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Drawpoint (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 4)

Page 5

by L. T. Ryan


  With his left hand, Nikitin pointed at the floor. Evgeni dropped to his knees.

  “If you cannot get the records, you will find another way. One of them is called Haeli. Find out who she is and who she was working with. And do not forget, if you fail, they will all burn.” Nikitin pressed the pistol further into his flesh. He leaned in and whispered, “And you will burn with them.”

  The pressure on Evgeni’s forehead released, leaving a circular impression behind. He stayed on his knees, eyes lowered, as Nikitin walked toward the bay door.

  From behind him, Evgeni heard the click of the door control, followed by the grinding of the casters as the door began to close. Then he heard another familiar sound. The chatter of the ignition and the Ducati’s motor roaring to life.

  Evgeni jumped to his feet and bolted toward the door. He ducked under it, just in time to watch the tail end of his beloved bike tearing out of the driveway.

  8

  Two Years Ago. Haeli tightened the valves. The flow of water dropped to a trickle, and then a slowing drip. She gathered her hair and wrung it out, then stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat.

  “Toss me a towel?” Haeli said.

  Wearing only a pair of blue boxer briefs, Michael Wan was bent over the sink, working a toothbrush with vigor. Defined striations ran from his abdomen and along his side toward his bulging lats. Whatever Wan was or wasn’t, Haeli knew one thing for sure—the man was as hot as hell.

  He rinsed off the toothbrush, pulled a towel from the towel bar, and turned toward her. He hesitated.

  Confined to the three-by-two terrycloth island, Haeli could feel his gaze lock onto her body. It excited her. She could feel her skin warming and tightening. As he drew closer, her legs trembled.

  Grasping the towel at each end, Wan flipped it over her head and across her back. His smoldering gaze meeting hers. He pulled, squeezing her dripping wet body against his.

  Then he kissed her. Or she kissed him. Either way, she lost herself in its depth and passion. Her body and mind throbbed in unison. Given another few seconds, she would have completely forgotten that there was somewhere they needed to be.

  Haeli slid her hands upward and rested her palms on his swollen pecs. With a gentle push, she leaned her head back. Their lips parted.

  “Ugh. We don’t have time. We’re gonna be late,” she said.

  “So, we’ll be a little late.” He leaned in and kissed her again.

  For a moment, she indulged. Then she shoved him. This time, hard enough to cause him to take a step back and release one end of the towel.

  Haeli snatched it from his hand and wrapped it around herself. “I don’t do ‘late.’ And by the way, neither do you.”

  “You’re so mean to me.” Wan smiled.

  “Hey, you’re the reason I needed a second shower in the first place. I think you’ll be all right. Now, get dressed.”

  Haeli walked into the bedroom and gathered her clothes from the floor. The same clothes she had picked out earlier and worn for about ten minutes.

  She got dressed.

  They weren’t far from headquarters, but far enough that they’d have to drive to make it in time. It was the one thing she missed about living in the residence quarters. Then, she could roll out of bed and already be at work.

  At first, she hadn’t been eager to leave. Having grown up in the facility, it was comfortable to her. Even when she turned eighteen and started working for the company as a paid employee, she’d stayed for several more years. It was a perk unavailable to most—especially low-level operators. But because her father was who he was, she was made an exception.

  As she reached her mid-twenties, a feeling of claustrophobia started setting in. She needed to get out on her own. To live her own life, if not her best life.

  The apartment was nothing to look at. In fact, it was kind of a shithole. But it was hers and she was content there. So there she stayed.

  Wan came into the room, picked up his pants, and set about climbing into them. “What do we need a briefing for, anyway? I’m sure it’s gonna be no different than the other two times.”

  “Who knows? Maybe he’s changin’ it up this time. Anyway, what are you complaining about? Frank was right, it’s the easiest gig in the world and the bonuses are stupid good.”

  Wan shrugged. “That’s what I don’t get. Why are we getting paid so much extra to do next to nothing?”

  “Just because nothing happened the last two times, or the last hundred times, doesn’t mean it won’t the next time. That’s the danger with stuff like this. We can’t get complacent.”

  “No, you’re right. I just hope there’s an end to it. Or are we gonna have to take these runs forever?”

  “My guess is we’ll be doing it until somethin’ real goes down while we’re away playing Kevin Costner. Watch how fast Frank changes his tune then.” Haeli grabbed her bag and headed to the door. “I’ll pull the car around. Meet me out front. And hurry up.”

  Haeli and Wan stepped into the expansive lobby. At this time of morning, it was like Heathrow Airport. Dozens of people moved across the marble floor in intercepting patterns. All of them in their own heads, consumed with whatever temporarily dire tasks were atop their mental dockets.

  Above, the overhanging corridors, separated from open air by glass-panel railings, teemed with employees of all walks. From lab technicians to executives. From operators to janitors.

  At the top of the main staircase, leading to the second-floor reception atrium, Haeli could see Bender loitering.

  They made their way to the steps.

  “Little Ricky’s gonna be all bent outta shape we’re rollin’ in hot.” Haeli slapped Wan’s backside. “I’ll just blame it on you.”

  Wan chuckled.

  As they reached the top step, they split apart, moving around either side of Bender. “Hey, Rick,” Haeli said while she continued walking.

  Bender caught up and fell in next to them. “Cutting it close, aren’t we?”

  “You know you don’t have to wait for us. You can just go in,” Haeli said.

  “I know that.”

  “What?” Wan said. “You got someplace else to be? Another hot date with Aphrodite?”

  “Her name’s Maria. And no, doesn’t look like it.”

  “Uh oh,” Wan said, “trouble in paradise?”

  They reached the double doors of the boardroom.

  “She and I are done.” Bender paused. “I think… I don’t know.”

  “Shit. Sorry, man.” Wan squeezed his neck.

  “Can we do this later?” Haeli pushed between Wan and Bender, opened the door, and entered. The other two clamored in behind her.

  What Haeli walked into was not what she expected.

  What is this?

  Ornal was already in the room. So was Goldmann. But Frank wasn’t there. Instead, Levi Farr himself stood at the end of the table. The sober look on his face set off her internal alarm.

  Standing behind Goldmann were two bearded men, one larger than the other and both wearing white button-down shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Like Levi, neither of them looked happy to be there.

  Haeli shot a look at Wan. She wondered if he had gotten the same vibe—like they had just barged into a funeral, waving streamers and blowing into the plastic noisemakers they hand out on New Year’s Eve. Judging by the size of Wan’s eyes, he had.

  “Close the door,” Levi said. “Take a seat.”

  Haeli pulled up a chair next to Ornal and across from Goldmann. Wan and Bender filed in next to her.

  Levi sat. At the head of the table, he was a good ten feet away from anyone else. “You know Mister Goldmann. I’m guessing I don’t have to tell you who our other guests are.”

  Mossad.

  Israeli intelligence. She knew as soon as she laid eyes on them. What she didn’t know was why they were there.

  “Gentleman.” Levi lifted his hand toward the two agents, palm up.

  The larger
of the two spoke.

  “I am Ari. This is Gram. It is time you are all fully briefed into this mission.”

  Mission? What mission?

  “As of zero three hundred hours this morning,” Ari continued, “our friend, Adam Goldmann here, has graciously agreed to cooperate with the State of Israel. Apparently, he is rather put off by the idea of spending his life in prison.”

  Haeli looked at Goldmann. His usual nervous energy was missing. He remained inanimate with his eyes lowered toward the table. He was exhausted. Or relieved. Or both.

  What was he involved in?

  Haeli raised her hand, then spoke. “Did something happen that we weren’t aware of?”

  Ari nodded. “Safe to say. Let me give you the synopsis. Then we’ll answer any questions you might have.” He stepped away from Goldmann and began pacing in a tight pattern.

  Gram stayed planted to the floor.

  “Two months ago, we intercepted information that a well-known Israeli diamond dealer was working for the head of a Russian crime syndicate. A former KGB agent named Olezka Sokolov. Ever heard of him?”

  Haeli shook her head. She looked to either side. Her teammates hadn’t either.

  “Sokolov is a major player in eastern Europe, but also throughout the world. He has powerful connections and is known to be extremely dangerous.”

  “Are you telling us Goldmann works for the Russian Mafia?” Wan asked.

  Goldmann raised his head and glared at Wan. Haeli noticed the tears welling in his eyes. “Sokolov took my family. My wife. My children. He threatened to kill them if I didn’t do what he said. I should never have let them travel to Turkey without me. And now—” Goldmann slammed his hands on the table. “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Enough,” Ari said. “This is true. His family was taken from their hotel room. Local assets have reason to believe the men involved were SVR—Russian Foreign Intelligence operatives. The information we’ve compiled suggests that in exchange for being allowed to operate his criminal enterprise, Sokolov has agreed to provide certain services. Things the Kremlin wishes to keep itself distanced from. That’s where Goldmann comes in.”

  “It makes no sense,” Ornal said, “why would the SVR need Goldmann to buy diamonds?”

  “Because they’re not buying diamonds,” Ari replied. “They needed Goldmann, or someone like him, to make it look like the transactions were legitimate. He happened to be the lucky winner. When you were escorting him to Botswana, it wasn’t cash in that briefcase. It was diamonds. Raw, uncut diamonds.”

  “Wait,” Wan said. “We’ve been bringing diamonds to a diamond mine? In exchange for what?”

  “Uranium.” Haeli blurted. Her brain churned. Like a game of Sudoku, once a few pieces of the puzzle were filled in, the rest started falling into place. It all made sense now. “It isn’t a diamond mine. It’s just supposed to seem like one.”

  Ari smiled and pointed at Haeli.

  “Of course.” Wan’s excitement surpassed Haeli’s. “They sell off the raw diamonds as if they were a product of the mine. From the outside, everything looks legitimate. It’s brilliant.”

  “What we didn’t know, until yesterday, was how and where the uranium was being delivered. Our Russian assets hadn’t heard anything, and all of the regular players were dark. We were at a loss, until—”

  “You followed the money,” Haeli said.

  “Exactly. How do you not work for us already?” He turned to Gram. “How does she not work for us already?”

  Haeli took it as an attempt at humor, though Ari hadn’t so much as cracked a smile.

  “Yes. We followed the money. Through Sokolov to Moscow. From Moscow to Tehran.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Haeli stood up. Her face flushed with rage. She wanted nothing more than to climb over the table and beat Goldmann’s face to a pulp.

  Iran was the single biggest threat to Israel. Especially their nuclear weapons program. She was convinced that the moment Iran had the capability, they would try to wipe Israel off the map. And Goldmann, an Israeli, was helping them get there. Forget beating him. She could kill him.

  Levi stood up. “Haeli! Sit down.”

  The use of her real name rang in her ears. She could see the acknowledgement on Goldmann’s smug face. She despised him. Even more so now that he knew her name. But she managed to calm herself. With a deep breath, she lowered into her seat. “You knew the whole time?” She shifted her attention from the two Mossad agents to Levi. “And so did you.”

  “It’s why I put your team on this,” Levi said.

  “Why didn’t Sokolov put his own people on it?”

  Goldmann started to speak, then paused and looked at Ari as if seeking his permission. Ari nodded and Goldman continued. “He told me he wanted me to do everything I would normally do, so it didn’t look suspicious. The few times I’ve had to travel with a lot of cash, I hired someone through Techyon for security. So, that’s what I did. I called you.”

  “When we intercepted the call, we contacted Levi.” Ari said. “We agreed to wait and see how things played out. Your first two trips were under surveillance, but now that we know the uranium ends up in Iran, we no longer have time to waste. We have orders to put their operation down, permanently. Which, politically, will be a bit tricky. The Kabo mine is half-owned by Neo Molefi, who I believe you’ve met. The other half is owned by the corrupt Botswana government. You can understand how this complicates things a bit. We’re going to need some solid proof before we can pull this off.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Ornal asked. It was proof that he was listening, after all.

  “You’re going to make the trip in exactly the same way you did before. As you know, Goldmann and Molefi meet privately, once he’s safely at Kabo. This time he’ll be wired with audio and video. He knows what he has to do, right Adam?”

  Goldmann offered no reaction.

  “In a perfect world, I’d love to get something more than just the transaction.” Ari said.

  Haeli leaned forward on her elbows. Compared to the last two trips, this one was shaping up to be a lot more interesting. “What do you have in mind?”

  Ari smiled. “I’m glad you asked. Since the Kabo mine changed hands, the open pit has been abandoned in favor of a cave mining technique. Which means tunnels are dug under the deposits and the ore is extracted from underneath. The ore is loaded onto an underground rail that carries it to an adjacent facility for processing. If we could get pictures and video of the processing facility, it would be ideal. But it’s likely not feasible. Like the mine, it’s highly secure and you’ll have no business there. The next best option is to somehow get access to one of the drawpoints.

  “Drawpoints?” Bender asked.

  “Yes. There are a few places where the ore is extracted and loaded onto the rail for transport. These areas are called drawpoints, and they move as deposits are depleted. Obviously, our satellites aren’t of any use. If your team were able to access one of these areas and obtain a soil sample, documented by video, we would have the proof we need to put pressure on Botswana.”

  “Gentlemen,” Levi said. “What you’re asking of my people is extremely risky.”

  “I know, I know.” Ari held his palms outward. “I’m not saying it will even be possible. But if you can create an opportunity to break away, undetected, it would go a long way to ensure our national security. And trust me, you will all be well compensated.”

  “We’re in.” Haeli said. “My team will get you what you need. Right?” Haeli looked to the others.

  “Absolutely,” Wan said. “Get us everything you have on Kabo. We’ll find a way in.”

  Ari turned to Levi. The room fell into silence as all attention shifted toward the end of the table. Levi let out a loud exhale and then nodded.

  “Excellent,” Ari said. “You leave the day after tomorrow. We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon to do a final walk through of the arrangements. Gram, anything to add?”

  Gram glared
at Ornal, then worked his way down the line.

  “No.”

  9

  Four Days Ago. “Where am I?” Chet Ornal squinted and turned his head toward the source of what little light was available. The blurred splotches resolved into a row of square windows along the roof line some thirty feet above. It was an old industrial building. What kind, he didn’t know.

  He felt the swelling in his lips. Tasted the blood in his mouth. His instinct was to touch his face. To read the story in the lumps and cuts like Braille. But his wrists snapped against the cuffs, fastened through the chair’s back supports.

  The balcony.

  He remembered it now. The sound of glass breaking. The sense of disoriented panic.

  Despite being awoken from a dead sleep, he had the wherewithal to roll over and open the bedside drawer. But it was too little, too late. Before he could grasp the pistol, the men had already descended on him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He twisted as quickly as his sore, stiff neck would allow. A man was approaching.

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  Ornal could guess what he wanted. What they all wanted. Information.

  Since joining the weapons program, he had been hypervigilant about this type of scenario. It was no secret that foreign adversaries would do anything to get their hands on the innovations he was now privy to. In fact, before transferring to the new job, he was required to retake training on resisting enhanced interrogation techniques. It was supposed to give him strategic options in the “unlikely case” something like this were to happen. He only hoped he had what it would take to endure whatever came next.

  As the man came closer, and Ornal could see his features in more detail, his pulse quickened. Ornal had never met or seen or even heard of Pavel Nikitin, but it didn’t matter. His scarred, busted face spoke volumes about the type of man he was, and the type of conversation this was going to be.

  “Listen,” Ornal said, “I know what you think, but you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m a grunt, man. I don’t have access to secrets or anything like that.”

 

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