Snell would shoot him a text when they were ready to go. Jake used the time to call home. Halle answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Dad,” she said, her voice bubbly. “When are you coming home?”
“Hopefully tomorrow,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “My case is wrapping up. What are you doing up at midnight on a school night?”
“Biology exam tomorrow. Mom said she’d get me a new phone if I got an A on it.”
“What happened to your old phone? We just got it for you.”
“Dropped it running yesterday. Cracked the screen like a spider web. Mom was not happy.”
“How’s that dipshit, Toby?”
“Dad…”
Jake’s cell vibrated. A text from Snell. It said “GO.” His stomach tightened.
“Listen, sweetheart, I gotta run. I just wanted to say hi to you and your mom and let you know I’d be coming home soon. I miss the hell out of you both.”
“We miss you too. Can we go shooting again when you come back?”
“Absolutely. Love you guys.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
He hung up, tears pressing his eyes. In talking with her, everything he had to lose reared its beautiful head. If this deal went bad, he may not see either of them again. He just showed Halle how to shoot. She was damned good at it. He wanted to take her fishing. Go running along the country roads in Warsaw. Watch her graduate. Marry Maggie. Maybe even have a baby, one they could both raise together.
He thought of calling this whole thing off. Images flashed of running away, looking over their shoulders, wondering if someone was out there to take them down. Masked men creeping into his house loomed large, guns drawn and shooting them in bed as they slept. Maggie and Halle tied to chairs, Keats making him watch as he hurt the ones Jake loved most. Watching the news of the death of Americans, victims of chemistry he had the means to stop but didn’t.
The old line from one of the Star Trek movies flashed across his mind. He thought it was Spock who said them. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…or the one.
There wasn’t a choice. Too many lives at stake. He put the car in drive, took his foot off the brake, and inched forward toward the courtyard.
* * *
Drabek watched Alim the Butcher approach, taller than he expected, clad in black slacks and a dark jacket. Drabek stayed by the car. Better to pull the man away from his own vehicle and out into the open where Stanton would have a better shot if it came to that. His nose itched, and he resisted the urge to scratch it because it was Stanton’s signal to start firing. Alim advanced, shoulders back, head high, confident yet cautious, with empty hands at his sides. The other man exited the SUV and circled around out of Drabek’s direct line of sight. The other man worried him, but best to keep his eyes on the money man. Alim stopped five feet from Drabek.
“Mr. Drabek,” Alim said, his accent apparent but slight. “We meet at last.”
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Alim. You are thought of well in the world community.”
“I doubt it.”
“Well,” Drabek said. “At least in the circles in which I operate.”
“I see you found your case at last. I must admit we were quite concerned you would not be able to retrieve it. Almost as concerned as your complete lack of security surrounding such an important item.”
“An unfortunate incident involving an associate who won’t be making the same mistake, or any other mistake, again. I am just happy we are able to conclude our business.”
“I have to see them, of course,” Alim said.
Drabek set the briefcase on the hood of his car. He opened it as Alim stepped forward, the headlights from Drabek’s car casting long shadows along the red-bricked wall of the building behind them. Alim pursed his thin lips at the five vials and ten empty slots. He reached forward to examine the contents when another set of headlights washed over them as a car bounced into the courtyard.
Alim pulled his thick eyebrows together. “Who is this?”
Drabek said nothing and drew his gun. He wanted to give the signal for Stanton to start shooting, but he needed to know who was behind the wheel. It could be Devaroux. The headlights of the car facing them went dark, and Jake Caldwell stepped out with another briefcase in hand.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“Recognize either of them?” Snell asked McKernan and Briggs. Snell watched the courtyard from a window of the empty building, her view limited by the gate opening. One window over, McKernan trained the video camera on the scene, watching through the viewfinder. Briggs set up in the tall building next door, his heavy breathing from running to the roof crackled her earpiece.
“Nope,” McKernan said.
“Guy in front of Drabek looks familiar,” Briggs said, his voice coming in low but clear. “But I can’t place his name.”
“You set, Briggs?”
“Affirmative.”
“See any bad guys other than the ones in the courtyard?”
“One on the roof of the east building. Definitely a bad guy. Got a Dragunov trained on the courtyard. Thought I saw another person on the third floor of the north building. I have a shot on the roof subject if you give me a green light.”
“Negative,” Snell said. “Let’s see how this plays out.”
At that moment, Jake drove through the gate opening and into the courtyard in Snell’s car. The guy in the background assumed a shooting stance. Her ex-husband slipped out a gun as well and stepped toward his own car. The guy in front of the SUV stood with his arms crossed.
“This could get real hairy real fast, Snell,” Briggs said. “I hope your boy knows what he’s doing or you’re going to need a shovel to pick up his pieces.”
Snell ran through her options as Jake opened the car door but could come up with nothing better than to wait and see what happened. She hoped Jake’s plan played out. Otherwise, there would be one hell of a bloody mess.
* * *
Jake stopped the car, watching the two men in front pan guns in his direction. If his heart wasn’t pounding enough already, staring into the dark barrels of a pistol and machine gun aimed at your head did the trick. The tall guy by the SUV seemed unconcerned about the approaching vehicle, which told Jake he had more cover fire around the courtyard than just the guy on the opposite side.
As if on cue, Snell’s voice breathed low into his earpiece. “Jake got a sniper on the roof, east side of the courtyard. We have him covered. Briggs thought he saw a guy on the third floor of the building straight ahead of you.”
Jake set his feet on the asphalt but remained behind the open door in case they blazed away. Drabek’s face crunched in disappointment. He didn’t think Jake would make it to the meeting.
Jake held his hands up to show all he had was the silver briefcase. “Mr. Söze, I presume?”
“Mr. White,” the man in front of the Suburban said, eyebrows raised in surprise. He made no move toward the car.
“What the hell is this, Alim?” Drabek asked.
Jake glanced at him. At least he had the guy’s real name now. “Relax, Wyatt. I got this. I have what we discussed. May I approach?”
Jake stepped around the door and crossed the lot. Drabek kept his gun trained on Jake, shifting from foot to foot as if unsure what to do. He had to think where Jake was, his ex-wife couldn’t be far. For all Drabek knew, Jake had Ares in the briefcase in his hand. The certainty of his payday might give him an itchy trigger finger.
Jake jerked his head toward Alim’s man in the courtyard who had his gun trained on Jake. “Is the gun necessary?”
“I don’t know you. If you try anything, you will be shot dead where you stand. Do you have what I want?”
“I do. You have the money?”
“In the back of the car. However, it appears we have a small problem.”
“What’s that?” Jake asked.
“Mr. Drabek also has a briefcase with Ares in it.”
Drabek stepped forward.
“I don’t know what this guy told you—”
“I told him I had Ares, Wyatt,” Jake interjected, cutting Drabek off. “I didn’t know you were coming with the extra ones.”
Drabek was a shitty actor, and confused wrinkles sprang on his forehead. For a successful businessman with a shrewd reputation, he wasn’t comprehending the play. Jake had to string him along. He turned his attention back to Alim.
“Wyatt hired me to track down Ares when your original contact Voleski stole it. Wyatt and I lost contact in the last couple of hours. To make sure we get what we want, he personally brought the remaining vials. Isn’t that right, Wyatt?”
Drabek gaped for a moment and jammed the pistol into his waistband. The right move. If he and Jake were on the same team, he wouldn’t need a gun. “That’s right. We’ll give you the extra vials on good faith you’ll make it worth our while. Consider the money you brought a down payment.”
Jake imagined the gears whirling in Alim’s head as his eyes darted between the two men.
“Open your case,” Alim said at last to Jake.
Jake placed his case by Drabek’s and spun it, so the opening faced Alim. He reached around and flipped the latches, raising the lid and revealed rows of fifteen vials filled with dish soap packed into form-fitting foam. Drabek’s eyes widened at the sight of the vials and gave Jake a slight shake of his head. Jake winced inside.
The green color from his case varied from Drabek’s, but he hoped Alim wouldn’t notice. Drabek’s case was already open. They stood side by side holding their cases for Alim to inspect, and Jake resisted the overpowering urge to crack Drabek in the face with an elbow. Alim selected one of the vials from Jake’s case and one from Drabek’s. He walked them twenty feet to the SUV, leaned inside and examined them against the dome light.
“Where’s the real Ares?” Drabek whispered, venom dripping in his voice.
“Right there in the case.”
“Bullshit. I can tell by looking at the vials. Where is it?”
“Somewhere safe and far away from your little Ares Road.”
“So what’s in the vials?” Drabek asked.
“Palmolive.”
Drabek’s body tensed. “Fucking dish soap? This is a dangerous game you’re playing, son.”
“Don’t call me son, jerk off. Is Alim this guy’s real name?” Jake asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Just want to make sure our boys cross the right name off the terrorist watch list when he’s dead.”
“If he doesn’t kill you for bringing in dish soap, I’m going to get you. Either way, you’re a dead man,” Drabek said, grinding out the words from clenched teeth.
Jake huffed. “Big talk from a man in bed with a United States Senator selling chemical weapons to the bad guys. How much is Young getting?”
“Enough to fund his election to the White House.”
“Doesn’t selling poison to the bad guys weigh on his conscience?”
“He’s a United States Senator,” Drabek said, tilting his frame toward Jake. “He doesn’t have a conscience anymore. Speaking of conscience, where’s my do-gooder ex-wife?”
“With your daughter. She hates your guts by the way.”
“My wife or my daughter?”
“I’d say both.”
“Can you blame them?”
“No,” Jake said. “And I thought I had a shitty father. What kind of sick bastard kidnaps his own daughter?”
“The kind that’s going to be rich in a few minutes.”
Jake wanted nothing more than to punch Drabek’s nose through the back of his thick skull. “Hard to spend money if you’re dead.”
“Alim won’t kill me. He may want more vials.”
“I’m not talking about him. I’m talking about me. And you can’t let me get killed, because I’m the only one who knows where the rest of Ares is located.”
Drabek’s nostrils flared. “Big talk.”
“It’s a fact, dickhead. You’re all going down. You, Keats and the Senator.”
Alim called over the man covering them with the gun by the back gate. The man trotted over, still pointing the gun in their general direction. They spoke in Arabic, Alim pointing at the vials and the other man leaning in and taking a closer look.
“What happened to your triangle of douchebaggery?” Jake asked.
“What triangle?”
“You, Keats and the Senator were one big, happy family at one point. You were Young’s largest campaign contributor, so I know that tie. But how did Keats get involved? Who double crossed who?”
“Keats had the contacts. Once he stole Ares, he tried to broker his own deal. He doesn’t even know Young.”
“I have photos proving otherwise.”
Drabek shot Jake a sideways glance. “Bullshit.”
Alim muttered to the man who went to the other side of the SUV and came back with something. He handed it to Alim and took his position across the courtyard. Alim stamped toward Jake and Drabek.
“Three weeks ago,” Jake said. “No bullshit. Outside Keats’s warehouse on Front Street. Young and Keats. Tells me Young was playing both sides assuming you’d fuck up the deal with the terrorists.”
Drabek couldn’t answer because Alim stopped in front of them and held up both vials in one hand.
“It appears we have a problem,” he said.
* * *
Snell watched through binoculars, though she didn’t have the best angle. The man Jake called Alim took a vial from each of the cases and traveled back across the courtyard.
“You getting this?” she asked McKernan.
“On crystal clear digital,” he responded.
“Briggs? How you doing?”
Briggs coughed. “Sitting in three inches of dust isn’t helping my allergies. I still have a line of sight on the guy on the roof. Can’t see anything of your boy or Drabek. Guy on the roof still holding steady, but he’s got them scoped in.”
“Stand by,” she said. “If Jake gives me the signal, I’ll let you know and give you the green light.”
Bear crackled in her earpiece. “Don’t let my boy get shot, Snell.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
“What problem?” Drabek asked.
Alim held the two vials up between his thumb and first two fingers. Side by side, even in the dimness of the courtyard, anyone could tell they weren’t the same in color or viscosity. Over the tops of the vials, there was movement on the third floor of the building at Alim’s back. Just a flash, but it was there like Snell said.
“These are not the same,” Alim said. “One looks like the sample sent to us in Syria. The other does not.”
“Different batches,” Drabek said. “There’s bound to be a minor coloration difference.”
“Why don’t you give them both a taste and find out?” Jake said.
“I think not,” Alim said. “Though we are thinking along the same lines, Mr. White.”
Alim produced a pair of aerosol guns from his other hand. He inserted the vial from Drabek’s case into the gun and handed the contraption to Drabek. He did the same with Jake’s vial and handed it to Jake.
“What are we supposed to do with this?” Jake asked.
Alim took a couple steps back. “If I am correct, one of those vials contains Ares. The other contains something that looks suspiciously like something my wife washes our dishes with. Though both green, I suspect we will have an entirely different outcome. So, we’re going to try an experiment. Mr. White will spray Mr. Drabek and Mr. Drabek will spray Mr. White.”
“Nobody’s spraying anybody,” Jake said. “This shit is lethal.”
“We’ll see. If I’m correct, Mr. Drabek will be mildly irritated with soap in his eyes. Mr. White, however…you are in for a most unpleasant surprise.”
Jake’s heart pounded, and a cold sweat broke out on his back. He had no idea if Drabek’s vial contained the real Ares or not, but he knew his own was a fake. He didn’t know exactly what Ares did, but
he was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to personally find out.
Jake glanced at Drabek who stood uncertain at the front of the car two feet from Jake. He had to think. Jake had no doubt Alim had crosshairs painted on Jake’s brow right now. He figured with one car, there were likely no more than four total bad guys. Two in the courtyard with him, one on the roof to his right. One behind Alim on the third floor. Snell would take out the guy on the roof, the guy in the courtyard had a bad position and couldn’t risk firing at him without hitting Alim. He just had to worry about the third-floor guy. Maybe a bad assumption but it was all he had at the moment.
“And if I refuse?” Jake asked.
“I give a simple signal and my men in this building pull their triggers. Your head will be blown off your shoulders. Either way, I will have my answer.”
Jake looked at the aerosol gun of dish soap in his hand and the gun full of Ares in Drabek’s. He needed a distraction. A gunshot ringing out would be as good as any.
“Now, Snell,” Jake said, loud and firm. Drabek’s eyes went wide, and his head swiveled, looking for the cavalry he assumed was coming. A grunt came from above, and a body plummeted from the roof and thudded to the asphalt of the courtyard. Drabek glanced over Jake’s shoulder and touched his nose, a signal to someone, and Alim screamed out something in Arabic. Jake lunged, a bullet grazing his arm as he dove into Drabek, taking him to the ground, intending to use him as a shield.
He and Drabek tumbled, Jake trying to roll them to the protective cover of the car, not that he cared about Drabek getting shot. Gunfire erupted from all around, kicking chunks of asphalt at his feet. As he rolled, a muzzle flashed from the middle of the building on the west side.
He grunted. “West side, third floor. North side, third floor. Two more shooters.”
He hoped Snell heard him. He was in deep shit.
Jake Caldwell Thrillers Page 50
