Drawpoint (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 4)

by L. T. Ryan

  Just inside the gate was the main office where their previous visits had terminated. But beyond the one-story building were several square kilometers of infrastructure. Wastewater pools, tank farms, power generation facilities, heavy equipment maintenance yards, and of course, the pit itself. All of it protected by security fencing, barbed wire, and armed guards.

  The processing plant sat three kilometers to the east and could only be reached by an internal access road and rail system, also fully enclosed within the secure perimeter.

  While Israeli intelligence displayed confidence in their identification of the four tunnel access locations, the underground layout largely remained a mystery. Once below, Haeli would be at the mercy of her own common sense and powers of deduction.

  “Come on!” Wan leaned into the brake pedal and slapped the steering wheel with both hands.

  An old gray pickup truck, carrying six sun-beaten shirtless men, had turned into the roadway with no apparent regard for the SUV.

  Based on the number of men, Haeli wondered if they were heading to the mine. One thing was for sure. Wherever they were going, they were in no hurry to get there.

  “Take it easy,” Haeli said. “We’re still ahead of schedule.”

  She looked out the passenger side window. A group of women meandered along the strip of sand that had been designated as a road by the tire tracks left by previous traffic. Each balanced a different style of plastic bucket on the crowns of their heads. They had bare feet which, like everything else in the country, were coated with sand. The women smiled and laughed amongst themselves.

  Throughout her travels, Haeli had always been fascinated by the daily lives of people who lived and thrived in the most inhospitable places. She wondered where the women were heading and what the rest of the day held in store for them.

  “Imagine living here,” Haeli said.

  “No. I can’t.” Wan grimaced.

  The question prompted Bender to break his hour-long vow of silence. “Is there any part of this country that isn’t desert?”

  “Would you rather be in Iraq?” Ornal leaned forward to look past Goldmann.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one.” Bender sank back into meditation mode.

  As they approached the crumbling pavement of the trip’s final leg, the pickup truck swerved to the side and stopped. The six men in the bed, and the two in the cab, stared as they passed. Wan punched the accelerator, leaving a cloud of dust as a parting gift.

  The tires changed pitch as they left the sand and began buzzing along the solid road. Haeli ducked to get a view of the pickup through the passenger side mirror. She kept her attention on the truck until it started to fade from view. It hadn’t moved. Nor had any of the men disembarked, as far as she could tell.

  There was little conversation as they sped along the desert floor. Haeli considered it a good sign. No second guessing. No rehashing. They were ready to get it over with.

  By the time they reached the gate, it seemed as if only five minutes had passed since they left the village behind. The clock on the dashboard had elapsed thirty.

  Wan rolled down both driver’s side windows as he approached the guard booth. The single occupant, a bald man with charcoal colored skin, wore green camouflage fatigues. Its irony wasn’t lost on Haeli. There wasn’t anything green from there to Gaborone.

  The guard didn’t speak or modify his slack expression in any way. He pressed a button, and the gate began to rattle open.

  Wan pulled in, swung in a half circle, and stopped in front of the building. The others waited for Wan to shut off the engine and crack his door before following his lead. Like synchronized swimmers in a dry run, the four stepped out from the air-conditioned cabin into the blazing sun. They stood posted by the vehicle as Goldmann climbed out.

  Three more men had appeared from inside the building. They stood on the excess portion of the building’s concrete slab, just outside the door.

  On his own volition, Goldmann made his way over. The team flanked him. One on either side. Two at his rear.

  One of the soldiers held the door. “Come in, Mister Goldmann. Mister Molefi will join you shortly.” He enunciated the English words, forcing them through his accent.

  The men didn’t explain that the team was not welcome to join. They didn’t have to. The order of operations had already been well established.

  Goldmann entered with two of the men. The third pulled a pack of cigarettes from his thigh pocket, drew one out, and shoved it between his lips.

  Haeli wandered over to the SUV and leaned against the front fender. Wan, Ornal, and Bender crowded around her.

  Peeking around Bender at the idle soldier, Haeli felt nothing but nagging annoyance.

  Hurry up.

  If this visit had been anything like the others, it would be twenty or thirty minutes before Neo Molefi would arrive for the meeting. Haeli had no doubt his chronic tardiness was intentional. It was a message. “My time is more valuable than yours.”

  Either way, between the time Goldmann would have to wait and the time he and Molefi would need to conduct their business, Haeli would only have a half hour to do what she needed to do. A half hour, at the most. Every drag the man took was another percentage point subtracted from the probability of a favorable outcome.

  Haeli moved so that Bender was between her and the smoking man. She whispered to the group. “I don’t think this is going to happen. I’m gonna run out of time.”

  “Give it a minute,” Ornal whispered, without looking at her.

  Haeli took meditative breaths as the man sucked the cigarette down to the filter. Then he pulled out the pack, lipped a fresh cancer-stick, and used the burning ember of the previous one to light it.

  Goldmann took his seat across the pressboard desk from Molefi’s empty high-backed chair. The two soldiers backed out and shut the door behind them.

  To the left of the desk was a second door, through which Molefi would make his grand entrance—whenever he got around to it.

  There was a time when Goldmann would have felt the need to assert his own dominance. He had, after all, worked a lifetime to achieve the level of status he had become accustomed to. He was the best in his field. Or, at least, the most successful.

  But he no longer felt like the same man. His family taken from him, his future uncertain, he had been manipulated on all sides, and it had taken its toll. He was broken. And there was nothing anyone could do to put him back together.

  It was the reason he made this decision. A last-ditch effort to take control. As it was, he was a lost cause. But another man, a new man, unencumbered by Adam Goldmann’s predicament, stood a chance at survival.

  Mossad had stripped him of his ability to make his own choices, just as much as Sokolov had. But he had reclaimed that power. He had chosen this moment. The hour of his rebirth.

  Expecting Molefi to be a while, he was surprised to hear Molefi’s voice booming from behind the rear door after only a minute or two. Molefi spoke in a language Goldmann didn’t understand, but it sounded like Molefi was delivering an ass-chewing to whoever he was talking to.

  As the doorknob turned, Goldmann reached up and yanked the third button down, popping it free. Four copper strands peeked through the empty buttonhole. Goldmann squeezed the button in his fist and stood.

  “Mister Goldmann, good to see you. Please, take a seat.” Molefi closed the door.

  Goldmann remained standing. “Listen to me closely. The deal is off. We have been compromised.”

  “What do you mean compromised?”

  “My security detail is working with the Israelis. Mossad. We are all in danger. You must act quickly. They know about the uranium. They know about our deal.”

  “How?” Molefi moved in a circle, to the door, toward Goldmann, and back to the door. “Why would you bring them here?”

  “I had to warn you.”

  “Warn me? You—” Molefi raised his hands like he was about to lunge at Goldmann’s throat. Then he dro
pped his arms to his sides. His chest rose and fell. “Stay here.”

  Molefi moved around Goldmann and opened the door. The two soldiers who had escorted him, remained posted on the other side. As Molefi slammed the door closed, Goldmann could hear him say “Where are they?”

  Goldmann walked around the desk and slid open the top drawer. He rummaged around until he located the handcuff key he remembered Molefi keeping there. Leaving the case handcuffed to his left wrist, he dropped the key into his shirt pocket and headed for the rear door.

  Haeli glared as the second cigarette waned down to within a drag or two of the filter. If he lit another, any chance of sneaking away would be blown. She watched and waited.

  The door flew open and the other two soldiers burst out, the barrels of their sub-machine guns pointed at Haeli and her crew. Taken by surprise himself, the smoking man tossed the cigarette and raised his own weapon. His attention remained fixed on his comrades as if waiting for further instruction.

  Haeli stepped forward as Ornal and Bender slowly worked their way around the front of the SUV, toward the driver’s side. Wan held his position near the front grill.

  “Hold on guys. Take it easy.” Haeli raised her hands in front of her. “What seems to be the problem?”

  14

  Wan joined Haeli at the front door. “The back looks normal.”

  Haeli motioned to the camera mounted above the door frame. “These record right?”

  “Of course, what would be the point if they didn’t?”

  “Just checking,” Haeli said. “I say we clear the inside, then look at the cameras to make sure no one’s been lurking around.”

  “That’s fine. But I guarantee no one’s in there. These locks weren’t cheap. Nothing’s broken or been tampered with. Still buttoned up tight. We’re good.”

  Wan produced his key and unlocked the deadbolt.

  Haeli scanned the street. Nothing.

  Wan poked his head inside, then moved all the way in.

  Haeli followed behind him.

  The kitchen, dining area, and living room occupied one open space. Between the kitchen and the living room was a short hallway with a door on the right and a door straight ahead. Bedroom and bathroom, she assumed.

  Between the kitchen and the dining area was a counter with three high stools. Wan moved around the counter and carefully opened one of the drawers. He withdrew a Beretta 9mm pistol and crept toward the hallway.

  Haeli walked close behind, only pausing for a moment to slide a knife from the block on the back counter.

  Wan pushed the first door with his foot and stepped in, gun first.

  Haeli stood by the door and watched Wan clearing the bedroom as she kept her eye on the bathroom door at the same time.

  When Wan was done with the closet, he returned with a second pistol in his left hand. A Jericho 941.

  “Here, take this,” Wan whispered.

  Haeli took the weapon and checked that it was loaded. Wan returned to the bedroom, knelt on the floor, and threw back the bedspread to expose the underside of the bed.

  If there was anyone hiding in the apartment, the bathroom was the only place left they could be. Haeli moved to the bathroom door. Holding the pistol at head height, she pushed the door open with the knuckles of her left hand.

  Empty.

  She kept her sights on the shower curtain while she approached. Using the flat side of the knife blade, she shoved the curtain to the side.

  “Bathroom’s clear.”

  Wan met her in the hallway. “Yeah, bedroom’s all good too. Told ya it was fine.” He walked to the front door and latched the deadbolt.

  Haeli flipped the gun around, muzzle pointing down, and held the handle toward Wan. “Here.”

  “You hold on to that for now.”

  “Thanks.” Haeli tucked it in her waistband, then pulled the strap of her bag over her head. She placed the bag on the counter. “So this is your new place, huh? Not what I expected.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. Seems kinda stark. Where’s your guitar? And that ugly Matisse print you loved so much? I mean, where’s all your stuff?”

  Wan smiled. “At home.”

  “You said this was your home.”

  “No, I said it was my apartment. And it is. I just don’t live here.”

  “Who does?”

  “No one, Haeli. I keep this place in case I need to lay low. It’s completely under the radar. It’s not in my real name. I get no mail here. No one knows about it.”

  “Wow. Paranoid much?”

  “Considering there might now be a psycho trying to hunt us down, I don’t think so. You’re not paranoid if they’re really out to get you, right? Isn’t that what they say?”

  “You do have a point.” Haeli chuckled.

  “Good news is, we can stay here until we figure out what to do about Chet. What are we gonna do about Chet?”

  Haeli sighed. “I don’t know. He could be anywhere. If he isn’t dead already. We’ve gotta put a stop to this. There has to be a way to prove to Sokolov we don’t have his diamonds.”

  “Maybe we contact Sokolov and make a deal with him. If he tells us where he found Goldmann, we can retrace his steps and figure out what he did with the diamonds. Sokolov gets them back, lets Chet go, and leaves us the hell alone.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Sokolov isn’t going to make a deal. And if it were that easy, don’t you think Sokolov would have already done the same? He’s got more reach than we do, even with your Techyon connections.”

  “That’s it.” Wan clapped his hands together. “We have to take this to Levi. He’ll—”

  “No. Absolutely not. Levi cannot know I was here. No one at Techyon can know I was here. Understand?”

  “But—”

  “Michael. No one. You have to promise me.”

  Wan’s shoulders dropped. “Ugh. Fine. What is it with you? First, we hear you and your father are dead. Then you show up out of the blue, very much alive, but you won’t go near Techyon. What happened? And what about Doctor Becher? Is he—”

  “He’s dead.” She cleared the lump in her throat. It rose again.

  “I’m sorry, Haeli.” Wan put his hand on her shoulder, then pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “I know how much you loved him.”

  Haeli buried her face in Wan’s chest and fought back the tears.

  “I don’t know what happened, but I’m glad you're back. It’s going to be all right. We’ll get through this.” Wan leaned back and put his finger under Haeli’s chin. He tilted her head upward and looked her in the eye. “Trust me. Okay?”

  Haeli smiled and nodded.

  Wan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

  For a moment, it all came rushing back. Everything they had once shared. Before she knew what she really was. Before she knew what Techyon was.

  Haeli pulled away. “I can’t.”

  Wan touched her cheek. “It’s okay, I understand.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Things have changed. I’m not who you thought I was. I’m not who I thought I was. You and I, that was a different life. I have a new life now.”

  “That’s not true. You’re the same Haeli I’ve always known. I can see it. I get why you felt like you had to leave. But you don’t have to stay gone. You and I, we can get a second chance. If you don’t want to stay here, I can come with you.”

  “That’s not it, Michael. There’s someone else. Don’t you get it? I’m in love with someone else.”

  Wan’s chest deflated, and his shoulders dropped. His face contorted and then slackened. “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I’ve moved on.”

  “Yeah, I thought I did too. But seeing you—”

  “I know.” This time it was Haeli who reached out to touch him. “It’s not that I don’t care about you. Or that I didn’t love what we had together. But that’s in the past. Please don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad, Haeli. Embar
rassed, maybe. But not mad.”

  “Come on.” Haeli smiled. “Michael Wan doesn’t get embarrassed.”

  Wan laughed. “That’s true.”

  “I am happy to see you again. But Sokolov is the reason I’m here. For you and Chet and Little Ricky. God, Little Ricky. He doesn’t even know any of this is happening.”

  “He’s lucky he’s out of the country.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t you remember the briefings? Sokolov’s organization is heavily rooted in Germany. Most of Europe. Jesus, pretty much everywhere. Rick’s no safer there than here. Probably less so. We need to get to him.”

  “I agree. I’ll put in for a few days of vacation and we’ll go find him. We can leave tomorrow.”

  “We could start driving tonight,” Haeli said.

  “Driving? Are you crazy? How do you propose we get through Syria on our own? I don’t know about you, but my passport still says Israel. No, we’ll fly.”

  “If we fly, we’ll be unarmed. We can’t take the chance. How about by boat?”

  “Haeli, think about what you’re saying. It’s five days to Italy on the freighter. It’s not an option. I’ll make some calls. I can get us a couple of weapons. Maybe even have someone meet us near the airport.”

  “All right. See what you can do.” Haeli dropped her eyes to the floor. An awkward silence lingered. “Hey, you mind if I take a shower?”

  “Of course not, please, help yourself to anything.”

  Haeli picked up her bag off the counter and walked toward the bathroom. She stopped to look at Wan. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything I’ve never thanked you for.”

  Wan smiled. “You want a shower beer? I’m having one.”

  “No. Thanks. Later, maybe.” Haeli flicked on the light and closed the bathroom door behind her. She pulled her shirt over her head, gathered her hair away from her face, and looked in the mirror. She felt as tired as she looked.

  Haeli was no stranger to leaping in headfirst with nothing but a flimsy plan, if any plan at all. But she couldn’t see the endgame here. They would go to Germany. And then what?