Hunter Killer

by Brad Taylor

Seacrest described what had happened, including Amena’s actions, and Wolffe shook his head, saying, “So she’s as crazy as Pike?”

  Seacrest set his weapon against a wall and said, “Probably more so.”

  Amena was unsure how to take that. Was it a compliment? An insult? She settled for just sitting in a chair, swinging her legs back and forth to burn off the adrenaline.

  Seacrest took Kylie’s hand, returned to Wolffe, and said, “We have no idea of the scope of element against us. We need to pack up and get out. What did that guy say?”

  Wolffe leaned on the man, driving his knee into his neck and causing him to groan. He said, “Not much. He claims his team was the only one here, but I agree, he could be full of shit.”

  Seacrest said, “Any word from Pike?”

  “No. He won’t answer his cell.”

  The second the words left his mouth, his phone went off, vibrating on the table next to him. Wolffe said, “Watch this guy,” and picked up the handset.

  Seacrest raised his barrel toward the Russian’s head and Wolffe looked at the screen, saying, “Speak of the devil.”

  He clicked the green button and said, “Why the fuck won’t you answer your phone?”

  He heard nothing, then, “Is this George Wolffe?”

  “Yeah, who else would have my cell?”

  He heard a sigh, then, “Shit, sir, I thought you were dead because you didn’t answer your phone. Look, are you still in Charleston? I got a call, and Kylie and Amena are in trouble. I need you to find Veep and—”

  Wolffe cut him off, saying, “A little late for that. What’s happening in Brazil?”

  Pike replied, the trepidation dripping out, “What do you mean? A little late?”

  “I mean your little refugee initiated a Prairie Fire alert on a phone you gave her—without authorization, I might add—and Veep and I interdicted the problem.”

  Pike said, “Interdicted? Interdicted what? What happened?”

  Wolffe told him, relaying the assault and Amena’s efforts at the fort. He heard Pike turn away from the phone, saying something to someone else, then, “So Kylie and Amena are secure?”

  He laughed and said, “Yeah, why? Is that a surprise? Me working a weapon is like fantasy shit or something?”

  “No, no, sir. I mean, I’ve just been worried sick. These fucks called me and ordered me off of our mission. They put Kylie on the phone, and if I could have reached through it, I would have, slaughtering every one of them. Just like you did.”

  Wolffe ignored the accolades, focusing on the one word that mattered. He said, “What do you mean, ‘mission’? We have no mission. What have you been doing?”

  “Nothing that we haven’t talked about. Working on freeing Knuckles and Brett.”

  Wolffe felt the hairs on his neck rise. “That was supposed to be you as a liaison with the Brazilian assault element. Is that what you mean?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. That’s what I mean. Is Amena there?”

  “Yeah. She’s fine.”

  Wolffe walked into the den, out of earshot of the others, saying, “But we need to talk about her situation. I know this isn’t the time, but we don’t get to pick the time. With Kurt dead, she’s a weak link. If someone finds her, and then finds GRS, we’re in trouble. There is no explanation for it all. They’ll crack open the Taskforce, and we know now that someone’s looking.”

  All he heard was, “Bullshit. Give her the phone.”

  Wolffe said, “Pike, we have a serious problem here. This shit I just did in Charleston is another brick in the wall. We need to solve this problem. Find a solution for her. A permanent solution.”

  Pike said, “Permanent solution? What the fuck? You sound like a Nazi.”

  Wolffe couldn’t believe how Pike had twisted his words. He exploded, saying, “Have you lost your mind? Don’t put that on me. I just told you I’m with you. We aren’t going to throw her to the wolves.”

  Pike said, “Wolves? She’d probably survive that. Kurt told me you assholes were going to send her back to Syria. Let me talk to her.”

  Wolffe said, “Now’s not the time.”

  Pike came back, and Wolffe recognized the heat in his voice. “Put her on the phone.”

  Wolffe relented. He walked back into the kitchen and caught Amena’s eye, saying, “It’s Pike. He wants to talk to you.”

  Surprised, she said, “Me?”

  He said, “Yes.”

  She glanced first at Kylie, then at Veep. She rose, trying to hide the pleasure of Pike wanting to speak to her, and her alone. She took the handset and glanced at the others in the room, attempting to cloak the triumph of her being chosen among all of them. And failing.

  The act brought a smile from Wolffe, and he began to understand Pike’s attachment.

  She took the phone, her face serious, saying, “Hello?”

  She listened and nodded, saying, “Yes, we’re fine. I had to run, but Veep came through. He really—” and Pike cut her off. She paused for a moment, Wolffe hearing the chastising, and she finally said, “I know what you told me, but I had to make a choice.”

  Pike continued berating her. She squinted her eyes, then said, “You’re not the boss of me.”

  Wolffe could hear the laughter from the other end even as she talked. Pike said something else, then Amena smiled, saying, “I’m okay with ‘Doodlebug.’ If you don’t yell at me anymore.”

  She passed the phone back to Wolffe, saying, “He wants to talk to you.”

  He took the phone, looking at her and saying, “What was that all about?”

  She smiled and said, “Nothing. Just family stuff.” Clearly enjoying the disciplining she’d received.

  He grinned and said, “I know the feeling. I think I’m about to experience it.”

  He took the handset and came right to the point, saying, “Pike, what’s going on in Brazil? You were supposed to just advise and assist. What ‘mission’ are you talking about? You mean the Russian you took out, right?”

  “No, sir. That Russian gave us intelligence, and I used it on a flex target. A different target.”

  “What different target?”

  Pike said, “Uhh . . . I made a deal with the assault captain. I help him, and he helps me. And now it’s time for him to pay the bill.”

  “Wait, wait. Stop. What deal?”

  And Pike told him what he’d done, holding nothing back. Wolffe was incredulous. He waved at Veep, letting him know he was leaving the room. He walked out onto the deck and said, “You assaulted a church? One that’s a UNESCO landmark? Jesus Christ, Pike, you could have caused an international incident.”

  “Could have, but didn’t. Let it go. I have the police captain’s family, and he owes me a favor. I’m going on the assault. I need you to alert Knuckles’s phone. Can you do that? Even if it’s turned off?”

  “Wait, wait. I might need Oversight Council approval before you execute a Taskforce action.”

  Pike chuckled and said, “There is no Oversight Council. There is no Taskforce. There’s only Knuckles and Brett, and I’m going to free them. Can you alert his phone?”

  Wolffe ran his hand through his hair, not wanting to step out on the limb. But he did. “Yeah. I can get Creed to do that. Knuckles’s phone doesn’t exit the cell system even if it’s turned off. The only way it won’t work is if they’ve taken out the battery, but why?”

  “I want him to know we’re coming. You alert that phone, get it to ring or buzz or whatever that thing’s capable of, and he won’t even need to answer. He’ll know.”

  Wolffe took in the words, then said, “Okay, Pike. I’ll do it. But after that? Then you come home?”

  He heard nothing from the phone. He said, “Pike? You come home?”

  Pike said, “No, sir. I’m not. Rescuing Knuckles won’t solve our problem. The Oversight Council thinks that just giving up will prevent our discovery, but that’s not going to happen. Someone down here knows that Grolier Recovery Services is not what it appears, and they�
�re going to keep working to expose us. I’m going to stop it.”

  Wolffe knew he had to get a handle on Pike before he caused an incident nobody could explain. He needed to get him to understand what he was doing.

  He went into commander mode, saying, “Pike, that’s not going to happen. You’re coming home.”

  He thought he heard Pike chuckle, and bulled ahead, saying, “You get Knuckles, and get out. You’ve done enough. You keep going and you might just prove what they’re trying to expose. We can find them through others. Through the established intelligence community.”

  Pike snapped, “You sound like those cowards on the Oversight Council. The only one with any balls is a woman who hung her neck out to get me the chance. We choose your course of action and the way this ends is with the Taskforce shut down permanently out of fear because these guys are still running around. They’ll win.”

  Wolffe said, “Pike, it’s more complicated than that. Listen to yourself. We have a Senate inquiry into Kurt Hale’s death. He died at your house, for God’s sake. If that guy makes a single connection to Grolier Recovery Services, it’s a short leap to Amena, and an even shorter leap to your actions in Brazil. You’ve done good work, but don’t take it further.”

  Pike said, “Because you’re afraid?”

  The insult caused Wolffe to explode, “Because it’s fucking illegal! And if you want the Taskforce to continue, it needs to remain in the shadows. Think of Amena here.”

  And with those words, Wolffe thought he’d finally penetrated. Pike said nothing. Wolffe said, “Okay, so we agree.”

  Pike said, “We agree on one thing. Those fucks attacked my family. Tried to kill them.”

  He said, “What’s that mean?”

  Pike said, “It means they made a mistake. The man pulling the strings is still down here, doing evil shit. He killed Kurt, which is bad enough, but he made a mistake attacking my family. I can’t let that stand.”

  Wolffe tried one last time, “Pike, think about this. What am I supposed to tell the president?”

  There was a pause, then Pike said, “Tell him I’m going to burn it all to the ground.”

  Chapter 44

  Alek exited the Rio airport baggage claim and faced a throng of people, half holding signs with someone’s name, the other half unregistered cabbies trying to catch a customer.

  Tired beyond measure with the travel from Salvador, the clock climbing past midnight, he prayed that Nikita’s man was here. The last thing he wanted to do now was spend time trying to find a place to stay for the night. He needed a good night’s sleep before he began tracking his designated target because from what Nikita had told him, he was going to be starting from scratch, with the man having vanished. And failure was not an option.

  He waded through the crowd, growing concerned, then finally saw a man in the back, holding a sign with his name on it. Short and wiry, with a broad Slavic face, he had the dead eyes of a killer, standing next to a pillar and ignoring the flow of passengers exiting.

  He approached and, in Russian, said, “I’m Alek.”

  The man smiled, showing broken teeth that apparently hadn’t seen a dentist in years. He stuck out his hand and said, “You can call me Pushka. Nikita said you were coming to help, but I think I’ve solved our problem.”

  Alek said nothing in the crowded entryway. While he didn’t believe anyone spoke Russian near them, he’d wait until they were in the car.

  Pushka noticed the pause and understood. He pointed at the small roll-aboard suitcase and said, “Is that your only bag?”

  Meaning, had he brought something for the mission. Something given to him by Nikita. Alek said, “This is it. Nikita said you had what we needed.”

  Pushka nodded and said, “Car’s right out front. Let’s go.”

  They exited through the swarm of people and loaded up into a dented Ford Fiesta, Pushka taking the wheel. He pulled away and threw a manila envelope in Alek’s lap, saying, “That’s the target.”

  Alek opened it, first seeing a photograph of a man in a crisp suit. He looked to be in his midsixties, with distinguished features and a severe cut of salt-and-pepper hair. In truth, he looked exactly like the men who paid Alek’s salary. A man of power.

  He pulled out the target’s description, wading through pages of analysis to get to the synopsis. He read:

  Gabino Alves, Mines and Energy minister of Brazil.

  Responsible for the oversight of all natural resources in the country. Currently engaged with Petrobras for the release of parcels of the Lulu oil field and predisposed to ignore Rosneft advances. Vehemently opposed to Russian expansion.

  Leverage points: Implicated in Petrobras bribes in the Carwash scandal, but no hard evidence. May succumb if operatives can glean proof.

  Alek knew he was reading original operational parameters, because he wouldn’t be in the country holding this packet if the third measure had been met. He flipped the page, and saw he was correct.

  A short statement read, All efforts beyond lethal approaches have failed. Gabino rebuffed overtures, and our information campaign against him failed to be effective. Recommend future efforts be dedicated to grooming a replacement. Recommend termination.

  Pushka left the urban jungle of the city and began traveling along the coastal road. Alek said, “Where are we going?”

  “A sweet hotel at Copacabana. Right on the beach. We’re almost there.”

  He pulled into a circle drive and Alek closed the packet, saying, “What the fuck are we doing here?”

  Pushka said, “We originally tracked the target to here. His house is in São Palo, but when he travels to Rio, it’s always to this hotel.”

  Alek looked at the ostentatious hotel and didn’t like it. He said, “This is asking to be remembered.”

  Pushka shrugged and said, “Hey, all I do is follow. I didn’t choose this hotel. The target did.”

  They exited, Pushka giving the keys to a valet. They went inside, Alek dragging his suitcase. A bellboy came out, asking if he could help. Alek said no and kept going. The bellboy looked incensed, and Alek glared at him, causing him to shrink back.

  Pushka whispered, “Don’t make a scene. That is what will get you remembered. The people here don’t worry about a couple of bills.”

  Alek relinquished the suitcase, disgusted, but let the man roll it behind them.

  They rode up to the fourth floor, remaining quiet. The group reached the room and Alek tipped the boy, then closed the door. He said, “That was absolute bullshit.”

  Pushka said, “We’re not in a safe house. You need to blend.”

  Alek took a look at the minibar and said, “Looks like you’ve been blending just fine.”

  Pushka smiled and said, “When in Rome . . .”

  Alek tossed the target packet onto the bed and said, “What did you mean in the airport that you might have solved the problem? I thought this guy was in the wind.”

  “He was, but I’ve been staking out the downtown Petrobras headquarters. There’s this weird church right across the street that’s perfect for surveillance. Looks like a gigantic pyramid and has a continuous flow of tourists.”

  Alek rolled his hand, telling him to get to the point instead of bragging about his skills.

  Pushka said, “Okay, anyway, I knew sooner or later he’d return, and yesterday he did. After he left, I called my contact that runs security for the front desk and learned he’s in town for a few days.”

  “You have his schedule? Or do we need to track him?”

  “I don’t know his schedule tomorrow, but I do the following day. He’s taking some Chinese investors on a little trip. Playing tour guide.”

  “Where are they going?”

  “I don’t have an hourly schedule. I only have what the guard could relay, but I know one point of inflection. One place we can interdict him.”

  “Where?”

  “The Christ Redeemer statue. They’re headed up to it the day after tomorrow.”

&nb
sp; Chapter 45

  We pulled back into the same spot we’d been in before, the car now packed with enough people that I felt like I was about to drive into a circus. I said to Jennifer, “Okay, only Aaron and I are going in. Just like before. Hold fast here.”

  From the backseat, the mother said, “What are you doing? Are you selling us?”

  I laughed and said, “Selling you? Shit no.”

  I pointed across the street to the naval base and said, “Your husband is planning an assault against a ship that holds my friends. I saved you so you could save them.”

  She didn’t look convinced, her arms wrapped around her daughter. I said, “I know you have no reason to believe me, but please don’t try to run away. You are safe. I promise.”

  She nodded, and Shoshana said, “Pike? Outside the door.”

  I looked out the window and saw a group of thugs, much like the ones who had interrupted our interrogation earlier.

  The mother moaned, then said, “I knew it. You’re going to sell us. I have money. Let me buy my freedom. Please. Don’t give my daughter to them.”

  I muttered, “What. The. Fuck. Is this place a walking criminal enterprise?”

  I turned back around to her and said, “No, I’m not selling you.”

  Jennifer said, “Pike, maybe we should park somewhere else.”

  I clenched my fists, then muttered, “I don’t have time for this shit.”

  Aaron said, “Maybe Jennifer’s right,” but I ignored him, swinging the door open just as the first man reached me. I didn’t even give him a chance to say anything, rising up and slamming a hard right cross straight to the temple, snapping my hips and putting my entire body weight behind it. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

  I looked at the other men in the group, raised my pistol, and said, “Get the fuck out of here.”

  They took off running, breaking apart like a pack of roaches caught in the light, all searching for a place to hide.

  I turned back to the car and said, “Aaron, can we go?”

  Aaron chuckled and climbed out, saying, “By all means.”

  In the back of the car, the woman’s eyes about popped out of her head, the realization of what I’d done sinking home. She said, “You . . . mean what you say?”