Covert Assassin

by Ethan Jones

  “The matter of three wounded border guards.” Al-Mahrama nodded toward the man standing next to him, a man in his late fifties, with receding hair and the obligatory mustache. “Colonel Ramady is demanding answers.”

  Justin lowered his weapon. “Stay here,” he whispered to Carrie and walked slowly toward the two men. He had avoided this difficult conversation when he had requested al-Mahrama’s assistance, hoping the matter would not come up until much later. Now, Justin needed to deal with it.

  When he reached the SUV, he gave the colonel a respectful nod. “Sir, I wasn’t aware you would be present at this meeting.” He gave a stern look to al-Mahrama, then offered the colonel his hand.

  The colonel shook it reluctantly. “Yes, you’d prefer I didn’t even hear about this matter. You are responsible for a bloody attack on my men,” he spoke in Arabic in a loud angry tone, punctuating his words with hand gestures.

  Justin did not think about denying that his team had exchanged fire with the Jordanian border patrol. “It was a misunderstanding, sir. Our paperwork was in order, but—”

  “They were doing their job, when they were attacked, viciously, by you.” The colonel wagged his finger and pointed it at Justin’s chest.

  Justin looked at Ramady’s hand, then at his face. “No, we were fired upon and only returned—”

  “My men are not liars.”

  “I’m not saying they are. I was there, and I’m telling you what happened.”

  “Regardless of what you’re saying, the truth is I have three wounded men, and you are responsible for that.”

  “One of my teammates, al-Rawi, died in the gunfire. Your men will live,” Justin’s voice turned firm but still kept a kind tone. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

  Ramady did not reply right away. He seemed to be taken aback by Justin’s reply. He gave a shrug, opened his mouth, then shook his head. “It was a misunderstanding, an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

  “Yes, I would say so.”

  Ramady nodded. “In the future, make sure to communicate clearly with our units, to avoid such incidents.” His voice had taken on a more agreeable tone.

  “We will do so, sir, certainly,” Justin replied in a hurried tone, eager to end the conversation.

  Ramady nodded again, then looked at al-Mahrama. “I’m finished here.”

  He turned around and walked briskly toward the truck.

  Al-Mahrama heaved a sigh of relief and stepped closer to Justin. “Why didn’t you tell me about the clash with the border guards?”

  Justin shrugged. “Why didn’t you tell me the colonel was coming here?”

  “It happened at the last moment. I was thrown off by what he told me. I wanted to know if it was true, especially since you never mentioned it.”

  “I was going to, but it wasn’t relevant to getting us back to Amman.”

  Al-Mahrama gave Justin a sideways glance. “You have a strange way of making decisions. Wounding border guards is not relevant to crossing the same border?”

  “As I told the colonel, they drew the first blood and killed al-Rawi.”

  “He insists you started it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Can we go now?” Justin gestured toward the SUV.

  “Yes.”

  Justin turned toward Carrie and motioned for her to bring the truck to the SUV. When she did, Justin helped Thames into the SUVs backseat.

  Al-Mahrama asked, “What happened to him?”

  Justin shrugged. “Iraq happened. But he’s alive, and that’s what matters.”

  Al-Mahrama climbed behind the wheel. “Once we’re on the highway, we’ll make good time. I know a doctor in Amman who—”

  “He’s all right,” Justin said. “Once we reach Amman, you’re off the hook.”

  Al-Mahrama peered at Justin. “What?”

  “I mean we don’t need any more favors. You’ve been a great help already.”

  Al-Mahrama nodded. “I don’t mind.”

  Justin nodded back. “It’s all right, and I appreciate the offer.”

  The truth was Justin was going to pay hand over fist for each favor al-Mahrama was doing for them. As was always the case with the Jordanians, they asked for much more than they gave. Justin shrugged and tried to relax in the comfortable leather seat. We would have had such a hard time without al-Mahrama. He drew a deep breath, then glanced at Thames sitting next to him. Once he’s gone, we can return to London and stop the assassin.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Trafalgar Café

  London, England

  Justin glanced at his phone and reached for his coffee cup. Markov was running late, but she had informed him of the delay. She was still at the airport, attending to an urgent matter. She had not elaborated, and Justin had not asked. If it was related to this operation, she would have told me.

  He took a long sip, enjoying the strong black coffee. Justin’s mind went to the last leg of the operation, Jordan. Once the team had reached Amman, Justin and Carrie had escorted Thames to the British Embassy on Damascus Street. He was handed over to two SAS officials, who seemed displeased to take custody of him. It was as if they preferred to return him home in a flag-draped coffin. That scenario would have posed no difficulties. A hero’s welcome, followed by a funeral, and a medal ceremony. The fact that Thames was alive after killing a teammate and deserting his post raised many questions.

  Justin had made Thames swear he would stay silent about the course of events that had taken place in Iraq. We are already working with MI6, and I will fully debrief them upon our arrival, Justin had promised Thames. He had asked to talk to Mary, but she was not answering her phones. Mandy had someone check Mary’s apartment. She was not there, and it seemed she was out of town for a brief holiday. At least, that was what an MI5 agent had learned from Mary’s colleagues. She had taken a personal day, blaming it on increased stress. Then she had requested three days off to rest and relax. According to her colleagues, she had most likely gone to Nice, in the French Riviera, which seemed to be her favorite holiday destination. However, they did not know for certain, and had no idea about the name of the hotel where Mary might be staying. Thames thought of a few hotels where they had either stayed or considered staying, but Mary had not checked into any of them.

  Justin began to wonder whether one of Lim’s associates had kidnapped Mary, or whether she had taken off in an attempt to avoid being pestered by MI6, or Carrie. Thames had begun to worry as well, but both Justin and Thames had agreed they had no shred of evidence to conclude the worst had taken place. MI6 had agreed to double its efforts to find Mary, and Justin had promised to connect with Thames as soon as some concrete information came in.

  Justin’s phone vibrated with the arrival of a message. He tapped a button and read the message. It was from Markov: En route to the café. Maybe fifteen minutes. Justin shrugged and his mind went to his girlfriend, Karolin. He had last talked to her the previous evening, shortly after he and Carrie had arrived in London. Karolin was still in Bilbao, Spain, following a few leads about Lim’s suspected associates and contacts. She had tracked two of them and was hopeful that one would give her information that would help locate Lim or Ying. Maybe I should give her a call and see what’s new. I’ve got time.

  He put in Karolin’s number, and she answered after the fourth ring. “Hallo, Justin, I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Oh, I had no idea. Should I call you back?”

  “No, it’s okay, but I only have five minutes.”

  “What’s new?”

  “Finishing up talking to my informant.”

  “Informant? Lim’s contact.”

  “Yes, one of his associates.”

  “He’s your informant now?”

  “Yes, but you don’t sound convinced or glad about it.”

  “I ... I’m just surprised that you’ve turned him.”

  “Well, not exactly turned, but in the process. Hu, that’s the associate’s name, he was cheated by Lim—some deal
that went wrong—so he’s eager to get even, of course, for the right price.”

  “Too eager?”

  Karolin hesitated for a moment. “No, just the right amount,” she said with a laugh. “Look, Justin, I’ve double checked. Hu knows what he’s talking about.”

  “What has he said so far?”

  “He has confirmed what we already know: about Ying being a special op and working closely with Lim. According to Lim, they also had a love affair, but that’s in the past, supposedly.”

  “What about the assassination?”

  “Yes, I’m getting there. Hu is positive that Lim and Ying aren’t going to wait until the president arrives in London. Too much security. Hu is convinced they’ll make their attempt while the president is in transit.”

  “In transit to London?”

  “Yes, somewhere between the airport and the city.”

  “Does Lim know the route?”

  “Yes, according to Hu.”

  Justin frowned. “How can he be certain?”

  “He didn’t say. Lim bragged he had someone working inside the Kremlin, but never mentioned any names.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, but I’ll go back for more.”

  “This is great intel, Karolin. It’s excellent.”

  “Oh, not really, I’m just asking questions. It’s good Hu knows what he knows.”

  “Yes, but you found him along with the other one.”

  “He was a waste of time.”

  “That happens when you’re looking. Some paths lead nowhere.”

  “Thanks, Justin.” A brief pause, then Karolin said, “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, honey, but I’ll see you very soon. Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I hope to be done by then.”

  “All right. I’ll let you go. Be safe. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Justin ended the call and placed the phone next to his coffee cup. He took the last sip, then thought about the intelligence Karolin had gathered. If Hu was telling the truth, that would mean a considerable change of plans. Like any asset, especially a new, untested one, there was a great likelihood that Hu might be lying to pocket the money. Or worse, he could be working with Lim and Ying in an attempt to deceive Karolin and throw off the team’s attempt at thwarting the assassination plot. We have to be careful, as always, but we also can’t ignore this intel.

  Justin drew in a deep breath and thought about the first conversation he had had with Suen and Ying at the Embankment Café. It was a ten-minute walk, but it felt so far away considering how much everything had changed since that day. What did they say about Lim? Yes, that he was a great sniper. And so Carrie and I, as well as MI6, thought he, and potentially Ying, would chose a rooftop or a window for the fatal shot. That could still be the case, but if the hit is to take place while the president is in transit, Lim would need to know the exact route, so he could set up position. Unless the assassination will involve a car bomb or another means of attack. Justin frowned. So many unknowns and so little time. The Russian president was arriving in London the next day at eleven in the morning.

  Justin shrugged and thought about the plan of action. Once I’ve talked to Markov, we’ll see if the president can change his route, especially at the last moment. That should throw off Lim and Ying. He smiled and nodded to himself, then he glanced at his watch. I’ll grab another cup of coffee while I wait.

  Before he could stand up, the phone rang. Justin glanced at the screen. It was Mandy. “Yes, this is Justin.”

  “Carrie and I just came out of the intel briefing.”

  “Yes. Good news?”

  “Excellent news. Lim’s contact has a good idea about the hit. It’s going to take place when the president arrives at the hotel.”

  “In London?” Justin frowned.

  “Yes, he’s staying at—”

  “I know where he’s staying, but I’m hearing conflicting intel.”

  “What is that?”

  “The hit will take place while the president is travelling from the airport to the city.”

  “Impossible. How did you learn that?”

  “My CIS partner.”

  “Well, he is wrong. I’m not sure what source he has, but that’s not true. Lim’s contact insists the attempt on the president’s life will take place in the city.”

  “And he’s absolutely certain?”

  “Well, as certain as he can be. Look, we’ll discuss this at length when we meet for lunch. I have to go now.”

  “All right. Take care.”

  “You too.”

  Justin’s frown deepened. That’s conflicting intel. Someone is lying to us.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Trafalgar Café

  London, England

  Justin tried to make sense of the situation. On one hand, Karolin had intelligence about the attack planned while the president was travelling to London from the airport. On the other hand, MI6 had learned the attack was going to take place only after the president reached the hotel. Can they both be right, and two different attacks are in the works? Is one of them the correct one? Which one?

  He sighed and sipped the coffee he had ordered. He glanced at the phone. A couple of minutes and Markov should be here. When he looked out the window, a box-shaped black Mercedes-Benz SUV screeched to a halt just outside the café.

  Justin smiled. She likes to make an entrance.

  Markov stepped out from the back door. She cast a wide glance around, then her eyes met Justin’s. She nodded at him, and he waved back. Markov gestured toward someone inside the SUV, then headed toward the café’s entrance. She fastened the bottom button of her brown leather jacket but not fast enough. Justin’s attentive eyes noticed the handle of a pistol poking out of her waistband holster.

  Markov was a couple of steps away from the door of the café, when a blond man came around the SUV’s driver’s side. He was broad-shouldered and tall and was wearing a shiny gray pinstriped suit. He did not seem to mind that the pistol in his shoulder holster was visible. Diplomatic security. Justin nodded to himself. They like to show off.

  When Markov entered the café, Justin stood up and met her. She leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheeks, before sitting across the table. “You know Yuri, right?” She gestured toward the blond man still walking toward them.

  “No, never had the pleasure.”

  “Yuri works for the embassy.”

  Justin smiled and offered Yuri his hand. “Good to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Yuri said in the typical Russian accent Justin was expecting.

  “Something to drink?” Justin said.

  “I’ll have a large cappuccino,” Markov said.

  “I’ll get more coffee,” Justin said. “Yuri?”

  “I’ll have coffee too.”

  Justin said, “Good, I’ll bring them.”

  “I’ll get them. You stay,” Yuri said in a strong voice and tipped his head toward the table.

  Justin shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

  Markov waited until Yuri was beyond earshot, then said, “He’s a bit uptight, but a great operative.”

  “Doesn’t like you or me?”

  “He doesn’t like anyone. Well, except his boss, the Defense and Military Attaché.”

  “And Yuri doesn’t mind waving his gun around?”

  Markov shrugged. “What can I say? Diplomatic immunity.”

  Justin nodded. “Yes, well, that’s not going to protect him when bullets start flying.”

  Markov sat closer to Justin. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, my dear Justin,” she whispered in a teasing voice.

  He thought about talking to Markov about her sweet talk, but he did not feel it was the right time or place. Moreover, Yuri was heading back with their drinks. So Justin waited until Yuri took his seat, then said, “So, we’ve collected intel about the attack, but we have two contradictory versions.” He went on to tell them the differing account
s of CIS and MI6.

  “Who do you think is right?” Markov asked.

  “I’m not sure. It makes more sense for the attack to take place en route. Easier, fewer complications, and can be executed with only two, three people.”

  “There’s no way someone inside the Kremlin has leaked intel,” Yuri said with a headshake.

  “Everything’s possible, Yuri,” Markov said. “We’ll check again.”

  “Can you get the president’s team to change the route?” Justin asked. “Especially at the last moment.”

  Markov shrugged. “That might be difficult. First, the president doesn’t want to come across as a coward.”

  “Even when his life might be in serious danger?”

  “His life is always in serious danger,” Yuri said.

  “This isn’t like a crazy guy phoning in a threat,” Justin said.

  “Still, Yuri is right. The president does not want to appear weak under no circumstance. Plus, changing the route at the last moment might be problematic in terms of logistics. And it may not do much good, if the assassin is following the convoy, or if his plan isn’t static.”

  Justin nodded. Markov was right. If Lim and Ying were plotting to use a car bomb, the route the convoy travelled was immaterial.

  Markov said, “But we’ll request extra security, especially from the locals. In this way, we can always say it’s the Brits who are being extra careful or perhaps paranoid.”

  Yuri grinned. “Yes, we can push for that.”

  “Carrie and I would want to help with that security detail. You can say the Canadians are paranoid too.”

  Markov nodded. “We’ll make that happen. I’d love to work alongside you again, like the last time in Moskva.” Her voice again took on that tempting tone that had started to make Justin uneasy.

  “What about the MI6 claim?” Yuri said after taking a sip of coffee.

  “What about it?” Markov asked.

  “Shouldn’t we have someone work with them?”

  Markov shrugged and brushed back her long brown hair. “It’s very unlikely the elimination team will wait until the president gets to the hotel. There are numerous problems with choosing that venue for the attack.” She put her left hand up and started to count using her fingers. “First, they will not know which entrance the convoy will use—”