Black Flagged Redux

Chapter 39





10:25 AM

U.S. Embassy

Buenos Aires, Argentina





Special Agent Susan Castaneda examined her computer screen again, absorbing the details of the email sent by her lunchtime friend in the Argentine Federal Police. She had heard rumors of a particularly nasty murder scene in Palermo Soho involving Serbian nationals and had placed a call to Agent Federico Mariano. He had clearly anticipated her call because an email appeared while they chatted about their next lunch date. After opening the attached digital pictures, food was the furthest thing from her mind.

The crime scene photographs had taken her breath away, along with her appetite. Agent Castaneda had never seen that much blood and carnage in one place, even in the movies. Dark red blood covered most of the white marble floor in the living room, sprayed against the walls and kitchen cabinets. She counted at least eight bodies crumpled in various positions on the floor. The bedroom was the real shocker, and she couldn't help but gasp and stare at the pictures, trying to make sense of them.

The bright white bedspread was splattered with dark red clumps and brighter blood stains. A body lay slumped on the floor in front of the bed. It took her a few moments to figure out what had happened to the other body. A half undressed, badly slashed man had been strapped into a steel and leather harness contraption that suspended him a few feet off the floor in an extremely vulnerable, belly up position. His unsupported head tilted back and downward, above a pool of blood. She didn't envy the coroner's job on this one.

She finished reading Agent Mariano's assessment and dialed Agent Sharpe.

"Special Agent Ryan Sharpe," he answered.

"Ryan, it's Susan Castaneda from the embassy in Buenos Aires."

"Hi, Susan. Great to hear from you! Thank you again for the information you passed along. I can't go into details, but it proved to be extremely helpful."

"I'm really glad to hear that. I miss investigative work. Not much in the way of that down here. Hey, I ran across something this morning that might interest you. A bunch of Serbian immigrants and a few Serb nationals were found dead in a high end condominium high-rise yesterday. Strange circumstances to say the least."

"Another sponsored attack like the others?"

"My contact doesn't think so. I just sent you an email with all of the details and some pretty nasty crime scene photos. The condominium was owned by an Argentinian couple. Security cameras in the lobby show that the wife was staying there alone this weekend. The lobby is occupied by a security concierge twenty-four/seven and the night shift guard confirmed that she was alone. The day guard was killed during the attack. Bottom line, we have ten dead Serbs in the apartment. Federal Police are investigating the possibility that a sniper fired into the condominium. A few of the windows facing a hotel across the street were shattered and at least two of the men were hit by rifle caliber projectiles. Weapons found in the room fired 9mm. Security cameras caught a man and woman leaving through the back lobby door shortly before police arrived."

"You have pictures of them?"

"Yes. The last six pictures were taken from the security cameras and the pictures labeled 'Russo' were taken by security for visual identification reference. The building had decent security. Nobody gets in or out, unless their identity is confirmed."

"Sounds like a lot of unauthorized people got in that day," he said. "Here it is. Russo."

The line went silent for several seconds.

"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Uh…yes. Susan, do me a huge favor and keep these photos out of circulation. I need to make an urgent phone call. Thank you again. Sorry to be abrupt…I have to go."

The line went dead in Susan's ears.

"That was strange," she muttered.

She opened the digital pictures of the Russos and arranged them side by side. Natalia Russo was stunningly beautiful, but not really her type. Glamour girl for sure. The earrings looked like they could cost more than her entire outfit. She liked the confident expression on Natalia's face, though. Almost cocky. Susan liked women with attitude. Dario Russo was handsome in every traditional way, but in a different league than Natalia. Still, they made an attractive couple. She studied Dario Russo's picture for a few more seconds. For some reason, he looked familiar to her. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"No way," she whispered.

She navigated through the FBI intranet on her second monitor for several seconds, until a face filled the screen. She compared the two images.

"No shit," she said out loud.

Dario Russo's picture identically matched Daniel Petrovich, also known as Marko Resja. Wanted for several counts of murder and domestic terrorism? She scanned a list of known associates and saw the name of his wife, Jessica Petrovich. Her picture appeared on the screen and she compared it to Natalia Russo. Another exact match. She was wanted for assaulting a federal agent and conspiracy to commit murder. She was also classified as a domestic terrorist. No wonder it sounded like Agent Sharpe had swallowed his phone. She'd give Sharpe some time to formulate his own response before she passed the discovery on to her boss back in D.C. They'd make the call on what to do with the information.

The next picture she examined was the best shot taken from the security camera and showed Natalia, bloodied and bruised, in the lobby with a man that clearly wasn't Dario Russo. Interesting. She closed the file and sat back in her seat, wondering if she should send the picture of the man in the harness contraption to Agent Dan Bailey. It might curtail his extracurricular activities and restore some dignity to the legal attaché's office in Buenos Aires. She laughed out loud at the thought, after deciding it would probably only serve to give him another bad idea.