Bloody Truth: A Granger Spy Novel

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Bloody Truth: A Granger Spy Novel Page 3

by John J. Davis


  “Eat some mussels and fries?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I answered, trying not to laugh. “But in all seriousness, I was thinking we should shoot down to Overjise.”

  Closing her laptop and turning to face me, she just stared at me with those crystal clear blue eyes, saying nothing, but encouraging me to continue.

  “It might be a good idea to see an old acquaintance who might know something that can help us dig ourselves out of this hole we’re in.”

  She still said nothing; she just smiled and continued to stare at me like she knew something I didn’t know, which was usually the case.

  “You know, Jens in Overjise. Jens has his hands in every illegal thing going on in Europe. Nothing happens that he or his people don’t know about.”

  Smiling that all too familiar cat-that-ate-the-canary smile of hers, she finally told me.

  “Ron, Jens is being arrested by Interpol, and we’re assisting.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  JENS HANNE

  I SAW HEADLIGHTS SPEEDING toward us as our plane taxied down the runway. A black Mercedes Sprinter van raced alongside us on the private airfield’s tarmac, located a few kilometers southwest of Brussels, Belgium.

  “Who the hell is Jens?” Leecy asked me as the plane came to a complete stop, and Tammy started moving toward the exit.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” I said, helping her open the door of the plane.

  “Agent Wakefield?” a voice asked from the darkness.

  Appearing in the wash of the van’s headlights, I saw a tall, slim, black man in a well-tailored suit, looking like he’d just stepped out of the display window of a Savile Row shop. He extended his hand toward Tammy as she stepped onto the tarmac and said with a very British accent, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Robert Jeffery Leeds, the Eastern European Station Chief with Interpol. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “You’re it?” Wakefield asked, eschewing any pleasantries.

  Unfazed by Wakefield’s lack of decorum, he answered. “Budget’s taken a bit of a shellacking the past few years. Not a surprise, really, given the status of the global economy and all that. Some of our member countries have been delinquent with their annual contributions and staffing is, as you well know, the first cut. Unfortunately, when the economy goes south, crime rates go north, and we’re spread pretty thin right now. We certainly appreciate the assist.”

  “So, you’re it?” Tammy asked again, standing in front of the van and looking around the tarmac for more Interpol agents.

  “Yes,” he answered, nodding and smiling at all of us now assembled behind Tammy. “I’m it, as you say, but from what I’m seeing I don’t believe even I’ll be needed.”

  Tammy looked over her shoulder at me, giving me the look and nod that said now’s your chance.

  “Robert?” I asked. “May I call you Robert?”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” he answered, smiling an ultra bright smile and extending his hand. “I know you Americans like to keep things informal, and to whom am I speaking?”

  “Ron Granger,” I said, shaking his hand. His grip was as firm and as confident as his eye contact was direct. I made the rest of the introductions and then asked, “Tell me what you know about Jens Hanne?”

  Looking at his watch, a stainless steel Rolex, he said, “Why don’t I bring you up to speed on the road? We do have a schedule to keep. That is, if we plan to use the cover of darkness.”

  We listened to him as he drove, outlining the mission details, and what he knew wasn’t much. Interpol’s Computer Forensic Division, or the I.C.F.D., in conjunction with the FBI and the Secret Service, had spent the past ten months back tracing the hackers responsible for the attack on Sony, Target, and JP Morgan Chase and that work led them to Jens Hanne.

  “With cyber crime at an all time high,” he said, “there’s a priority on bringing hackers to justice. That’s why our officers are spread so thin, we’re working directly with the US government on this one.”

  “I see,” I said.

  “These types of operations have become a global law enforcement effort, so when I reached out to my contacts in the US with what we had on Jens, I expected to have FBI or Secret Service joining me, like when the FBI lured that Romanian hacker to Boston for arrest earlier this year. I had no idea they would send a CIA tactical team on this mission but, like I said, I welcome the assist.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll go where we’re ordered,” Tammy said. “But back to Jens. He’s an old… what would you call him, Ron?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’d call him,” Valerie answered for me. “I’d call him a killer. He shot Ron twice some years ago.”

  Eyeing me in the rearview mirror, Robert asked, “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” I answered, “but that was a long time ago. To answer your question, Tammy, I’d call Jens a valuable resource.”

  “Care to elaborate?” Leecy asked from the seat behind me.

  Prompting Robert to comment to Wakefield who was seated next to him, “Your team doesn’t seem to be on the same page.”

  “They’re fine, just an outspoken bunch,” she said, looking in Robert’s direction before answering Leecy’s question. “Jens is the fourth generation of a well-connected criminal syndicate that’s been active in Europe’s underground crime scene since the nineteen hundreds. Jens took control of the family business in early 2003 after… let’s just call it an internal power struggle, which landed him in the boss’s chair, which is where he’s been ever since.”

  “I know it’s your job to know this stuff,” Zach said from his seat next to Leecy, “but why is this one bad guy on the tip of your tongue, Wakefield?”

  “He wasn’t on the tip of my tongue. I was briefed during the flight that he was wanted by Interpol.”

  “Jens Hanne was Wakefield and my last mission together,”

  I said.

  “One we failed at,” Wakefield corrected. “You’re forgetting that.”

  “Well, we did get half the job done.”

  “And as Valerie has already mentioned, Jens shot you twice.”

  “Oh, I see,” Leecy said. “So this is the time Wakefield saved your life. And to think, I didn’t have to wait till 2035 for you to tell me after all.”

  “No, that’s something else entirely,” I corrected my daughter. “Wakefield said shot, not almost killed. Anyway, what’s important is Jens can help us.”

  “Help us?” Robert asked. “How can he help us? We’re charged with arresting him.”

  “That’s right, Ron,” Wakefield said. “Jens can’t even help himself.”

  “I understand what we’re here to do, but I think the intelligence on this is all wrong,” I argued. “Years ago, I spent months learning everything about Jens and his family’s organization so I could get close to them, and I’m telling you these guys aren’t hackers. They’re into the black market. Clothes, music, movies, anything they can make pirated copies or cheap knock-offs of and sell. They did do a little weapons smuggling, and they’re definitely involved in prostitution and drugs, but not computer hacking.”

  “I’m sorry, Ron,” Robert countered, “but the intelligence is spot on. There’s no doubting it.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said, speaking for only the second time since his dressing down on the plane. “We’re here in the first place because the intelligence we were given about the Ukraine turned out to be not so ‘spot on’ as you say. I’d question everything at this point.”

  “Jesus, really?” Hodges said.

  “That’s your story now?” Franks added.

  “Seems your team is all over the place,” Robert said, glancing at Wakefield. “What am I to make of that?” With his eyes back on the road he continued, not waiting for an answer. “Nasty business when the intelligence you’re told to trust is a shambles, but you made it out all in one piece. All of you, that is, except for Ron, who from the looks of him was in a bit of a dust up.”

  “Yeah, he was t
ossed around a bit,” Wakefield said, staring through the windshield, “but he’s tougher than he looks.”

  “Where’s this conversation going?” Leecy asked. “Why do I get the feeling Dad wants to talk face to face with a guy that shot him twice?”

  “That’s exactly what I want to do,” I said, looking over my shoulder at my daughter sharing a bench seat with Zach and Hodges. “And for the last time, Jens wasn’t trying to kill me.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Val said.

  “Why not?” I asked, turning my head to look at her. “Setting aside the shooting, we have leverage over him with this Interpol thing hanging over his head, and we should use it.”

  “Use it how?” Tammy asked.

  “Look, we know the guy’s connected. There’s not much happening that’s illegal in Europe or Asia that he or his people don’t know about. Why not give him a chance to help himself by sharing some of that knowledge with us?”

  “That’s Interpol’s call, not mine,” Tammy answered.

  “Ron, you want to bring him in,” Robert began, “and then turn him out in exchange for information on a bigger fish?”

  “Not exactly, no. I don’t want to bring him in at all. Bringing him in is a waste of time,” I said. “An added step to the process that we don’t need.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Val interrupted.

  “You bet I’m serious,” I said. “I know him. I know the layout of his residence. I know what to expect. It’s the fastest way to achieve the desired results because he’s not the hacker, but he’ll know more than your computer forensic guys know, Robert, or ours.”

  “Getting shot again or worse?” Val asked, then calmly added. “That’s what I know, and it’s a risk you shouldn’t take. You’re hoping Jens will get our team off the bench. But it’s not worth risking your life.”

  “Granger’s right, but also wrong,” Ryan interjected. “If this Jens guy is really as connected as Ron and Wakefield say he is, he’s worth talking to. But Ron’s busted up and in no condition to take lead on this. If we want to get back in the game, I should be the one to take point.”

  “As always,” Wakefield said, “your thoughts are duly noted.”

  “Okay, hold on a tic,” Robert said. “Regardless of which one of your boys it is, let’s say I agree to this meeting with Jens. How do you approach him? What’s the plan?”

  “Well,” I began, and then paused, looking around at Ryan, who averted his gaze, falling silent. “Robert, you’ve told us we’re driving to Overjise, so I guess Jens still lives in the same place. I’ll just approach him like I did in 2003.”

  “And how was that?” Robert asked.

  “I was sent to kill him before, not talk to him, but I’m mainly talking about how to gain entry to the residence. The rest of it, I’ll make up as I go along.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying,” Val said. “He knows that. He knows you were sent to kill him. Why wouldn’t he just put two bullets in you on sight?”

  “I agree,” Robert said. “It sounds like a suicide mission. I don’t think I can sign off on this. Sorry, but you’ll just have to interrogate him after the arrest.”

  “No, it’s not a suicide mission,” I said, leaning forward between the front captain’s chairs. “Look, I’ve got a history with the guy, and I know him. If we arrest him he’ll go deaf and dumb on us. I’ll concede that maybe my history with the guy isn’t on the best of terms, but he owes me in a way. I’m the reason he’s in the position he’s in. I killed his boss.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Wakefield agreed, “but you were supposed to kill Jens, too.”

  “He doesn’t know that. He shot me before I got the chance to shoot him, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember,” Val chimed in again. “I remember you were out of action for months, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

  “It’s been so long since all that happened,” Wakefield said. “And Jens dropped below the CIA radar after that mission. I think Ron going in is a risk worth taking.”

  “Wow, talk about flip flops,” Valerie said.

  “What can I say?” Wakefield rejoined, “Granger’s persuasive.”

  “I have a question,” Leecy said, breaking the tension inside the van. “Who was Jens’ boss?”

  “His father,” I answered.

  “His father?” Leecy said. “What in the…”

  “Yeah, I know how it sounds, but trust me, it’s complicated.”

  “You’re going to walk back in there?” Val asked me, squeezing my hand.

  “What’s it going to be, Robert?” I asked, ignoring Valerie, but squeezing her hand to let her know I understood her concern. “I need you to trust me. I know this guy, and I know he’s not the hacker.”

  “Sounds a bit reckless to me, honestly it does,” he answered. “But I’ll go for it on two conditions: one, you’ll have thirty minutes, and two, you go in wearing an earpiece so we can monitor the action.”

  “Deal,” I said.

  Flipping down the TV screen mounted in the roof of the van, I said “Zach, can you put the satellite map view of Jens’ house on this screen?”

  “No problem. I’ll just need a few seconds.”

  “If memory serves,” Wakefield said, turning in her seat to face us, “Jens might, like his father before him, want to conduct any unpleasantness in the empty barn.” I pointed to the roof of the longest of the three buildings on the screen, showing everyone the barn as Wakefield continued laying out her plan, “Leecy, you and Val can access the barn from the adjoining vacant lot. If I remember correctly, the loft had excellent sightlines to the main floor of the barn, as well as the secure courtyard. In addition to that, you two will have the high ground. I think one of you positioned fore and one aft it will work just fine. Any questions?”

  “Terminate or incapacitate?” Leecy asked.

  “Incapacitate, and I’m surprised you’d ask that question, knowing the strict protocols the team has in place for engaging any opposition. I want you both firing bean bag rounds only.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me, Wakefield,” Ryan offered. “Shouldn’t you deploy the healthiest and most qualified agent at all times? Or at least send in the entire team?”

  “No,” I answered for her. “We need to keep this operation simple. We don’t want to spook him. I’ll make the approach alone. Val, you and Leecy give me a ninety-second head start before following me inside the secure compound. The rest of you hang back and listen. If you hear things starting to go sideways, come riding in like the cavalry.”

  “What about your earpiece?” Leecy asked. “Won’t it be found if they search you?”

  “It’s part of the deal, but I don’t think they’ll search me that thoroughly.”

  “From what I’m seeing on the satellite, there’s construction nearby,” Zach said. “We can set up in the van two blocks south of the compound and not be noticed.”

  “I see,” Val said, glancing at the flat screen. “Tell me, how old are these images?”

  “Six weeks, but I can task one of our satellites in the area to photograph on the next pass. Problem is, that’s five hours from now.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Wakefield said. “We need to be in and out before the sun comes up. Let’s trust the data we have and make changes once we’re on site. Jesus, Ron,” Wakefield said, spinning around to face me, “I just remembered Jens knows you as Peter Heely. We don’t have any credentials for you to show.”

  “I don’t think that matters given what happened on our last visit,” I said, exchanging my vomit-stained black tactical sweater for a clean, long-sleeve black Under Armor HeatMax fitted shirt and black wool sweater. “I think he knows I’m not who I said I was, but I’ll stick to that cover anyway, even without the papers.”

  “All right,” Robert said. “I can’t say this plan is brilliant. Not one for this spur of the moment thing, but I’m on board. We should be there in fifteen minutes; best ma
ke ready.”

  “So,” Leecy asked, prepping her weapon, “when do I get to hear the full story on this Jens guy shooting you?”

  “I told you over a year ago,” I answered. “Anything related to my early days at the CIA is classified until 2035.”

  *

  The black Mercedes Sprinter van exited the highway, slowing for the off-ramp before turning toward the city center and increasing speed. I told Robert where to drop me, and the team how I planned to approach the compound. We synchronized our watches. It was 3 a.m., giving me three hours till sunrise, which was more than enough time.

  I was comforted knowing Val and Leecy would be watching my back. Val was carrying her Glock 17 in a back holster, and shouldering a sawed-off 12-gauge pistol-grip Mossberg pump-action shotgun loaded with beanbag rounds. She’d borrowed the weapon from Hodges.

  Leecy was sitting close to the window and next to Zach. I watched her checking her Sig Sauer P320 before holstering it on her left hip. She preferred a left-handed draw even though she was right-handed. She shouldered the twin to the shotgun Val had, which she had borrowed from Franks.

  I could see in the early morning darkness that Overijse had grown in the past decade and was no longer a small country town. Robert was stopping at the petrol station I’d used as my drop point for my first visit to the Hanne compound.

  “Here we are,” Robert said, eyeballing me in the rearview mirror, “You’re certain about this?”

  “One hundred percent,” I said. “From here I go on foot. Val, you, and Leecy ride with the others to the spot Zach picked out two blocks south of the house. If the satellite images are true, you’ll have a clear view of the compound and be able to see me enter the courtyard using night vision goggles. Just mark my route and follow me inside.”

  I winked at Val before closing the door to the van and watched as she, Leecy, and the team sped away. Alone in the darkness, I starting walking the three remaining blocks from the petrol station to the compound, hoping this plan of mine didn’t blow up in my face.

  *

  The white wall around Jens’ courtyard marked the beginning of the property, and it ran the length of the block. I noticed a new addition to the security wall: a heavy-gauge black metal door was built into the wall where there had been an open pass-through before. Other than that, the place was unchanged. Walking past the metal door and turning right at the corner, I walked by the automatic gate securing the driveway. I continued toward the far corner of the adjacent field, leaving the wall and the compound about half a block behind me.

 

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