The Reluctant Assassin Box Set

by Lee Jackson

  The plane halted on the runway within a yard of him, its engine idling, its propeller spinning. Klaus ran out, mounted the wing, and scrambled to open the door.

  Even before he had sat down, the pilot started to taxi, the rugged runway still stretching out to their front. Klaus buckled in and secured the door. He looked across to see the pilot but could only make out a broken profile by the glow of instrument lights.

  “Listen and don’t talk,” the pilot said as he straightened the plane and increased speed. Ahead of them, the ChemLight sticks were adequately visible, marking the path of the runway.

  “I’ll fly straight up that mountain range and cross in a saddle between two peaks. You won’t be able to see. The air will be turbulent. It’ll shake us. When we get to the other side, I’ll dive down to the flat land to stay below radar. Keep your hands still and don’t react. We’ll land in thirteen minutes. When I stop, you get out fast, and run to the light. I’ll point it out to you, but it’ll be the only one. Do you understand?”

  Klaus grunted. The plane accelerated to speed and soared into the night sky.

  “The Border Patrol caught nothing last night.” The Austin FBI field-office chief was clearly disgruntled. “There ended up being nearly a hundred attempted penetrations along the length of the border, from Texas to California, but no Klaus. We kept detainees longer than usual and questioned them but got no leads.”

  “Aircraft?” Atcho asked.

  The bureau chief shook his head. “We had a few blips on radar but caught no one.”

  “The chatter started up again all over the Islamic world,” Burly chimed in. “They keep mentioning the name, Sahab.” He frowned. “That’s Klaus. They’re saying he’s in the US and that he’s going to visit the wrath of Allah on the Great Satan.”

  “We are so proud of you,” Yousef said over the phone. “You proved your equipment works, and you arrived safely in-country. Did all your shipments arrive?” He was careful to avoid keywords that could trigger listeners.

  “They did. A couple were damaged, but they are easily replaced. I’ve located a machine shop that can do the job. I should be ready in a day or two. What are they saying on the news?”

  “No one has explained the seismic event in Afghanistan, at least not publicly. We’ve heard no speculation about your whereabouts either. My police friends have heard nothing.”

  Klaus pondered that information. “They would keep that classified anyway. What about Atcho?”

  “I saw an interview with him from Berlin last night. He must be there now. An earlier report said he had received an offer to buy his company and he was seriously considering it. The interview was very short. He was entering a hotel, and a reporter stopped him. He said he had finished his study of possible manufacturing locations and was flying to Washington to discuss regulations for exporting the technology or selling the company to a foreign purchaser.”

  Needles of anxiety poked at Klaus’ gut. “I expected him to be home by now. What’s his wife doing?”

  “Not much. They had that big meeting at Atcho’s company headquarters. She went home that night. Since then, she’s been doing normal things, going to the store, meeting with her garden club friends, etcetera. She went to see a doctor. Everyone seems to have forgotten about you. That should make it easier for you to move around.”

  Engrossed in his own thoughts, Klaus barely heard what Yousef had said. “This makes no sense. Atcho baited me in Berlin. He was never there for business."

  “The people he spoke with seemed serious. Several stories appeared in business magazines about the worth of his company and its future prospects. They’re saying his technology proved itself in Kuwait. Maybe a European company or a major investor took an interest.”

  “Maybe, but we should have seen major fireworks in Kuwait. He baited me there too. He’s doing it again. I can feel it.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Did you see what the name of the hotel was in Berlin where he was interviewed?”

  “No, and the reporter didn’t say.”

  “Then he could be anywhere. I won’t play his game.” Suddenly, Klaus’ mind seized on something Yousef had mentioned. “What kind of doctor did his wife go to?”

  “I don’t know. Let me see if that’s in Kadir’s notes.” The phone remained silent for a few minutes. Then Yousef came back on. “There’s not much information on that. I have the name and address of the doctor, but all it says about him is OB/GYN. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “No, but we should be able to find out. Tell Kadir to get me a direct phone number to Atcho.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Make him come to me.”

  40

  “It’s good to be home,” Atcho said, “but I can’t stay cooped up like this forever and we can’t keep using the riverside entrance for me to come and go. Sooner or later, someone will spot me.” He leaned back on the sofa in the downstairs lounge of his home, his arms encircling Sofia. Two days had passed since the meeting in his company’s conference room.

  He glanced around the room. “So, this is where you intended to tell me about our baby.” He smiled. “I should have known—several days of being sick in the morning. A single glass of wine. The romantic setting. How could I have been so blind?”

  “You’re a man,” Sofia said sardonically. She chuckled and squeezed his hand. “You were preoccupied. I knew that.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “For now. Klaus is still out there, and I’m still his prime enemy.”

  “If he or any of his buddies are paying attention, he should think you’re on your way to Washington from Berlin.”

  “That’s a big if. He’s not stupid. He guessed we smoked him out in Berlin and tried to corner him in Kuwait. Since then he’s fired off a nuclear bomb—at least we think it was him. If that’s true, his threat on the world stage is real. Right now, he’s limiting his own potential with his vendetta against me, but that will wear off. He learns fast and he’s shown patience. If he can’t get to me soon, he’ll either change his tactics or choose another target. Maybe a bigger one.”

  Atcho’s cell phone rang. “Just checking in,” Burly said. “We’ve heard nothing. How about you?”

  “Nothing. The bad guys watching Sofia have either pulled back or they’ve gotten better at it. Ivan’s men haven’t seen them in more than a day. What about Horton?”

  “The same. Chatter has died down again. Illegal border crossings from Mexico have returned to normal. He’s disappeared from the CIA’s screen, and the FBI has no trace of him.”

  “But he’s in the US.” Atcho made his query a flat statement.

  “We believe he is.”

  “All right. Where am I going to show up next?”

  “We thought a shot of you meeting with commerce department officials would be good. A couple of their honchos are in Austin now. We rented a room at a hotel. We’ll do an interview there and broadcast it on the East Coast as if it happened in DC. The story will be picked up and broadcast through the world’s business channels. Anyone watching it should believe you’re in Washington. One of the FBI agents will pick you up below your house at the river in a couple of hours.”

  Atcho sighed. “All right. I’ll be ready.”

  No sooner had Atcho set his phone down than it rang again. Thinking Burly might have called right back, Atcho answered. “Did you forget something?”

  A low voice responded. “I don’t think so.”

  Atcho’s mind sharpened. He waved to get Sofia’s attention, and then spoke into the receiver. “Klaus?”

  Sofia’s expression morphed into one of horror. She immediately regained control and hurried to the entertainment center at the end of the room and pressed the switch to open the hidden safe-room.

  Atcho followed her. While he spoke, she reached up and plugged a wire into the bottom of his cell phone. Then she flipped some switches on a console and put a speaker to her ear. She nodded at Atcho. />
  “They call me by my real name now, Sahab,” Klaus said. “You remember my voice. That’s good.”

  Atcho started to interrupt.

  “Shut up and listen,” Klaus snarled. “I’m in no mood for small talk. I don’t know where you are, and you don’t know where I am. That’s the beauty of modern technology. I’m on a throwaway cell phone. You won’t trace it, and anyway, I’ll crush it when we’re done talking. Then I’m on the move again. Did you hear about the seismic event in Afghanistan?”

  “A few tremors in a remote mountain area. No one was affected. So, what?”

  “You know better than that,” Klaus grunted. “That was me. My technology works. I proved it and you know it. Stop the crap and let’s get to business.”

  “What do you want?”

  “That’s better. By the way, I should congratulate you. Your wife is having a baby.”

  Atcho’s heart skipped a beat. His mind spun.

  Klaus interrupted the silence. “Do I have your full attention now?”

  Atcho struggled to keep his voice steady. “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want. You. I want you dead. Revenge is my right. And I want to strike for Allah. Islam will spread over the world, and I will help. Listen carefully.

  “The bomb is planted. It’s active, tamper-proofed, and set where no one in your house can escape it. If your wife tries to leave the house, the bomb goes off. If anyone that’s not supposed to be there comes in, the bomb goes off. I have your house under electronic surveillance. If my cameras are tampered with, I press the button.

  “I have the remote, and I’m out of the blast area. You can save your wife and baby. Doing that is simple. All you have to do is go home. You cannot save yourself. You have twenty-four hours.

  “By the way, the bomb detonates whether you show up or not. I’ll see to that. If I don’t get you this time, I will the next. When I see you enter your house, your sweet Sofia will have one hour to get out of the area.”

  “What’s to stop you from detonating before that hour is up?”

  “I’m a man of my word. I’ll still get her. I’ll just do it later. At least she has a chance. You do not. You’re already dead.”

  “I heard,” Burly said. “Sofia patched me in. He’s put us in a tight spot.”

  “First things first,” Atcho said, his mind focused, his thinking crystal clear. “Send someone to meet Sofia at the bottom of our bluff by the river in twenty minutes.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Sofia broke in.

  “Yes, you are,” Atcho said steadily. “You have our baby to protect. You can’t do that here, and you can’t help me. You have to go. Get your things together.”

  Sofia hesitated.

  “Go,” Atcho said. He touched her arm. “I’ll think better when you’re safe.” He watched as Sofia left the room, her shoulders drooped. He had never before seen her look forlorn.

  “Burly, get Ivan to check out the private investigators that did surveillance on us. We know they weren’t good. I want to know where their cameras are and how they’re being monitored.

  “Next, get Veniamin on the phone. We need to find another vulnerability in the bomb’s design. Something we can exploit.

  “Get to the news agencies. Flood the airwaves with Klaus’ picture. Make up a story. Say he’s an escaped prisoner, armed and dangerous. Ask for public help to find him.”

  “Don’t you think that would make him trigger the bomb?”

  “Maybe, but he likes to live. He has an escape plan, I promise you. He didn’t anticipate having to look over his shoulder every second. You get everyone looking for him, and he’ll have to do that. At least it’ll be a distraction.”

  “I’m not crazy about that idea, but I’ll run it by others, see what they think. Maybe they’ll have other suggestions. What else?”

  “I’m almost out of ideas. Do you have radio signal jammers that will work here? Is there a way to interrupt cell phone signal? He can’t have known that I’d pick up on his call just now and he doesn’t know where I am, so he wouldn’t have set the timer. He’s going to do it by remote.”

  “Good thinking. I’ll work on those. Do you have one of those NUKEX’s with you?”

  Atcho’s mind raced. “I have the prototype that was sent when I was doing due diligence to buy the company, but I don’t know if it’s a mockup or a functional device.”

  “I’ll find out. If it’s not a working device, maybe we can get one to you.”

  “OK, but it’s not going to do any good until we know where the bomb is. The good news is that if Klaus has already placed it, then it’s out of his hands. Is there anything flying that can detect the plutonium from the air?”

  “The amount of plutonium is too small, and it’s contained in a lead sphere. Hold on a second. I have a call coming in.”

  A minute later, Burly was back. “That was Ivan. His guys are taking action. Delay Sofia’s departure by half an hour. The man who picks her up at the lakeside will bring a working NUKEX. Do you remember how to use it?”

  “Someone can call and walk me through it.”

  “That’ll work. Now we just need to figure out where he put the bomb.”

  “The boat is waitin’, it’s blowin’ its horn,” Atcho sang softly. His lips smiled, but his eyes did not.

  Sofia slapped his shoulder. “Don’t joke. I might not ever see you again.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “I always come out,” Atcho said. “We’ll beat this.” He reached down and felt along her slightly rounded belly. “You make sure our little nugget has a chance at a great life.” He took Sofia into his arms. She buried her head in his chest. “Let’s go.”

  Sofia nodded, pulled away, and wiped her eyes. She headed to the small door leading out of the safe-room into the outdoors.

  “Stay hidden all the way to the shore. I’ll see you soon.”

  Sofia nodded. When she emerged at the back of the house, she stayed on the barely discernible footpath she and Atcho had laid out when they built the house. It switched back and forth downhill, screened by vegetation, and always within a few feet of rocks that provided solid cover.

  A boat waited at the bottom. Sofia scanned the far shore and across the river to her left and right. Then she hurried toward the boat.

  A man helped her climb aboard.

  A shot rang out. The man slumped, blood trickling from his mouth.

  Sofia jumped back in horror. Meanwhile the boat drifted into a turn in the water with its front facing the opposite shore. Keeping low, Sofia ducked behind the engine. Another shot whizzed by her head, and then another, shattering the windshield.

  Frantically and keeping low, Sofia searched the boat’s interior until she found a small bag that fit easily in her hand. She scooped it up and saw that fragments of a bullet had burned into the bag. She kept it anyway and scampered over the back end.

  A hot round hit her leg. She barely registered it as she ran for cover, but oozing blood and the effects of shock settled in as she climbed the twisting path back to the house

  Then Atcho was next to her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her behind some rocks, and checked her leg. The bullet had gone through her thigh. He jerked his belt off, tightened it around her leg into a makeshift tourniquet, and stood her up. Together, with one of her arms over his shoulder and one of his around her back, they finished the climb to the house.

  Atcho pulled Sofia through the hidden entrance. Then he pressed a button. Outside, a wall of stones to match the base of the house slid into place.

  His cell phone rang. He ignored it. Sofia had already hobbled to the other side of the room and pulled down a first-aid kit. Atcho grabbed it and took out a syringe. He was about to inject her leg with morphine. She stopped him with pain-filled eyes and a shake of her head. “The baby,” she gasped. She gritted her teeth, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut her slacks off just below the tourniquet. Straining against the pain, she pulled off the tourniquet and cut the slacks
to expose the entry wound.

  Atcho opened a small envelope with a coagulant powder and poured it into the bullet hole. By the time he finished, Sofia had opened a pressure bandage. Sucking in her breath against the agony, she held it in place while Atcho tied it off.

  Painfully, Sofia dropped to the floor. Atcho turned her over and repeated the process of dressing the exit wound. Then he turned Sofia on her back and placed a box under her feet to keep them elevated. Mercifully, Sofia swooned.

  Atcho’s cell phone rang again. When he answered, Klaus’ voice sounded angry. “Tell your wife that if she tries another escape, I won’t wait. I’ll detonate the bomb.”

  Atcho breathed deeply to control his fury. “What did you do to my wife?”

  “She didn’t tell you? She tried to leave with another man in a boat.” His voice turned sarcastic. “Don’t worry. Your competition won’t bother her again.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Ask her, but I think she made it back inside the house. Who knows? She might still be trying to climb that bluff. Tell her to get in the house and stay there. You’ll get no more warning.” The phone clicked off.

  Atcho returned to Sofia’s side. Gently, he picked her up and carried her through the hidden door into the lounge and laid her on the sofa with a pillow under her feet and covered her with a blanket. She groaned. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing her agony.

  Atcho caressed her face. “There must be something I can give you.”

  She shook her head, her face distorted in pain. “No,” she whispered. “The baby.” Atcho called Burly and relayed the situation.

  “How is she now?”