by Trevor Scott
“He’s a character, though,” Kurt said, as he rose from the deep chair. “You want a beer, Jake?”
“Thanks, I could use one.”
Toni twirled her hands toward herself. “Go on. What else happened?”
Kurt returned from the kitchen with a couple of beers and handed one to Jake.
“Hungarians,” Jake stated, and then took a satisfying chug of beer.
“Hungarians?” Toni asked. “What about Hungarians?”
“In Germany Herb and I ran into a few Hungarians. At the time I wasn’t sure what they were looking for. But today my new friend Burt told me a good story about Hungarians. That’s who Dalton and Simpson were selling to.”
“Why sell to the Hungarian government?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t think they were selling to the government. Simpson isn’t the most intelligent guy in the world. He saw dollar signs in his eyes and could have just as easily been selling to the Pope as far as he knew. Dalton is the brains behind the Roosevelt chips, but I don’t think he handled what took place in Germany. I’m not sure who’s behind that. I know what Bundenbach Electronics is trying to do, but I don’t know who wants them to succeed.”
“What about the Genoa bombing?” Kurt asked.
“Shit. I almost forgot. Toni, give your friend Bruno a call and have him pick up Burt Simpson at the Hotel Capri, room 303, in Naples,” Jake said.
“Simpson bombed those four guys?”
“Kind of. He delivered the car to the young boy. Simpson told me that a strange, tall Hungarian gave the bomb to him with the instructions. I didn’t have time to get more, even though I enjoyed the effort. I’m sure Bruno will get everything he needs. I’ve softened Simpson considerably.”
“Thanks, Jake. I owe Bruno.”
Jake shrugged his shoulders. “No problem.”
Toni picked up the phone and instinctively punched in Bruno Gallano’s number. In her quickest Italian, Toni explained as much as she could to her old friend. When she finished, she said “Ciao” and then pursed her lips in a mock kiss through the phone and hung up. She paused for a moment with her hand still on the phone.
“What’s the matter?” Jake asked.
She thought for a second. “Herb,” Toni said, as she picked up Jake’s message beeper on the table next to the phone. “Herb sent you a message through the Italian switch of the European Messaging Service.”
Jake gently received the small beeper from Toni. “I love these gadgets.” Even though he knew he needed to get the most recent smart cell phone. He’d be able to do everything he needed with that, without having to lug a bulky laptop everywhere with him.
Jake had purposely left the device behind because he knew he couldn’t get a signal onboard the aircraft carrier. Herb’s message was simple but revealing: “Lassen Sie sich Zeit.”
“What does that mean?” Toni asked, leaning over Jake’s shoulder.
“It means take your time. But what he means is, get your ass in gear back to Germany. I’ll have to call him.”
“Does he have secure capability?” Toni asked.
Jake smiled. “No. Herb’s a German Customs Agent working out of a tiny office in Bonn. He’s close to retirement, and the agency doesn’t have much use for his investigative approach. When he first found out about the technology transfer, his superiors thought he was full of shit. In fact, they only humor him now because they don’t fully understand the possible impact, and they don’t think he’s capable of uncovering anything significant.”
“Do you?”
Jake hesitated. “I’ve known Herb for quite a few years. Not well, but we’ve worked together. I trust his judgment. I trust him. Besides, his disdain for bureaucrats is equal to mine.”
“I didn’t know that was possible. So, I guess you’ll have to call like normal people,” Toni said smiling.
Jake smiled as he propped the phone against his ear and punched in Herb’s home number. “Herb? Yeah.” A pause. “No shit? Yeah I know the slimy bastard. I had a feeling about him from the first time I met him. From Rome? What was he doing here? He’s from Portland. He’s an executive vice president with Teredata. Yes, this does change things. I’m not sure how yet. No, don’t confront him. Keep an eye on him until I get there. Okay. What?” Jake listened intently. “Who the fuck did it? Gunter? I’m going to kick his ass this time. Yeah, thanks, I’ll try to. See you in the morning.”
Jake hung up the phone with a crash and then looked toward Toni and Kurt. Toni had moved closer to him and Kurt had gotten up from his chair.
“Well?” Toni asked.
“Not good.” Jake pinched his nose. He knew he had to maintain his strength up front. Whatever his feelings, whatever weaknesses, he had to get stronger and not let anything get in his way.
“Is everything all right?” Toni asked softly, putting her hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“Do you remember my friend Walt Kaiser, the Polizei out of Wiesbaden?”
“Yes. We met once at that New Year’s party a few years back. The one in Frankfurt.”
“Yeah, well Gunter and his men have put him in the hospital in Koblenz.”
“How?” Toni asked.
“I don’t know. He and his men beat him up pretty bad. Herb said he’ll make it. But I’ve about had it with Gunter. I never liked the bastard. And now I’ve got a good reason to kick his fat ass.” Jake felt his ears warm and his face become flush as though he were still a school boy enamored by some beautiful new girl. But he knew this heat was not from passion. A pain wrenched in his stomach as he took a sip of his beer and tried to enjoy it.
All three stood there, not knowing what to say.
Finally, Kurt said, “Do you need some help, Jake?”
Jake looked at him. “I’m sure I could use you, Kurt, but we still have to keep an eye on Dalton here. We know he’s pretty much in charge of this operation. We need to close him down for good. Besides, I’d like to know who he’s selling to, and what else he might be giving away. You need to stay here and finish your case. Toni’s office really needs you. Since Cecil has been gone, they’ve been short handed.”
Kurt nodded his head as if taking an order from his superior.
“What about...” Toni stopped short.
Jake knew that she could go to Germany if she wanted. She could work anywhere in Europe. Even if he said no, she could shadow and back him up.
“Kurt could use your help, Toni,” Jake said, before she could get her question out. “The Hungarian bomber is still out there. I’m sure Bruno will catch him, but what can the guy do before he does? It’s better to have two sets of eyes.” Before Toni or Kurt could respond, Jake swirled his leather jacket on. He felt the butt of his gun and then ensured the two extra fifteen-round magazines were in his inside pocket. “I’ve got to go,” he said bluntly.
Jake noticed Toni staring into his eyes. He wanted to kiss her and hold her tight and then make love through the night. But that would have to wait, he thought. He zipped and snapped his coat half way and then started toward the door. He stopped with his hand on the curved door latch and turned to Toni. What the hell. Romans never waste an opportunity to kiss a pretty girl. He walked over to Toni, kissed her gently on both cheeks, and then meshed his lips firmly with Toni’s moist red lips. Toni’s chest heaved with a slow deep breath. Finally, Jake slowly released his lips and looked into Toni’s eyes.
“I’ll come back to Rome if you want me,” Jake whispered softly.
Toni smiled. “I want. Be careful.”
“Always.”
Jake shook Kurt’s hand. “Get Dalton.”
“You can count on it, Jake.”
Jake slowly closed Toni’s door and started walking down the stairs. He got to the bottom and stopped. Someone was following him down the stairs. He quickly moved to the side of the wooden banister and waited.
The steps were slow but deliberate. It wasn’t Toni or Kurt, he thought. A shadow preceded the figure and came farther and farther and closer to th
e bottom of the stairs.
Jake slid his CZ-75 out of its holster quietly. The figure came into Jake’s view. It was the old man from the third floor in his night clothes with a pillow under his right arm as if going to a slumber party. Jake quickly holstered his gun and watched the man walk right into the first floor apartment. Finally, he sighed with relief and went out the door.
Once outside and walking toward his car, he realized how presumptuous he had been. It was never bad to be too careful, he reassured himself.
There was a chill in the darkness. The dim yellow street lights made Jake’s eyes work overtime trying to adjust.
He got to his car and stopped for a second pretending to look for his keys. Jake had noticed a blue BMW, similar to Herb’s, with two dark shapes a block down the street, but the figures had disappeared. He was sure they had both crouched down. He got in and thought for a moment. What if those were the Hungarians and they just planted a bomb in his car? But why would they want to kill him?
He shook his head, started the car, and slowly pulled from the curb. He looked into the rear view mirror, but the car was still there.
After a few blocks, he turned right and continued driving slower than normal. He couldn’t help wonder why those two men were outside Toni’s apartment. Or were they even there? Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He had been up since before the sun rose, driven to Naples and back, and encountered Burt Simpson on the USS Roosevelt and then interrogated him. He had every right to be tired. His eyes had every right to be deceiving him. The bullet graze to his head still brought pain and dizziness.
He turned right again down a one way street. He shook his head to break loose his blurred vision. But he couldn’t get those two men out of his mind. Why were they there? He had to find out.
Turning right again, he headed back toward Toni’s apartment. Just before he turned back on Toni’s street, he pulled over to the curb and stopped. If he had a cell phone he could simply call Toni and tell her to be on the alert. How you going to play this one? Scanning his memory, he tried to remember the best way to confront trained terrorists, if that’s who they were. If it came to firepower, he knew he’d be out-gunned without Toni and Kurt. But there was no phone in the area to call Toni, so he had to move fast.
Jake pulled away from the curb and turned right onto Toni’s street. The car was still there. No heads though. He stopped just two car lengths behind the BMW and turned off his lights.
The darkness made it difficult to make out anything. To the right of the car, across the sidewalk, was a high metal fence that ran for nearly the length of the block. The multi-unit apartment building on the other side of the fence had a security system with a speaker box on the fence gate. Jake could see from the fence to the building, so he felt fairly sure that the two men couldn’t lurk in the shadows there and ambush him.
He sat and waited. It had only taken him a few minutes to drive around the block and come back. Long enough for the two men to leave their car.
“Shit,” he said aloud. Jake popped the seat belt and got out of his car. He pulled his gun, cocked the hammer, and ran up to the blue BMW. Nobody there. Terrible thoughts ran through his mind as he ran toward Toni’s apartment. He should have known something was wrong. Shut up. Just get the bastards.
Jake reached the front door of Toni’s building and slowly and quietly entered. If they had knocked on Toni’s door she might have thought it was him having forgotten something. She could have just swung the door open. And then. Shut up.
With his gun leading the way up the stairs, Jake smoothly stepped upward. He knew every creak in the hardwood stairs. Every spot to watch for. His eyes quickly jutted downward and then back up again. His steps were sure. He listened carefully for any sound above. It was as if he were in the woods stalking a deer. Senses against senses. But deer didn’t carry Uzis.
Then he stopped. He thought he heard whispering for just a second. Just a few words, but he couldn’t make them out. Hungarian?
He froze. His gun pointed up to the last corner just outside Toni’s door. Did they know he was there? That’s it. Draw their fire to allow Toni and Kurt enough time to react.
Then Jake heard the sound of the door slowly swishing shut below him. Who the hell is that? Redundancy. An East Bloc trademark. If two could do the job, send four. Now he was trapped just above the ninety degree turn in the stairs. A team of Hungarians above him, and probably a back up team below him. He had to make the first move. Now.
He aimed his gun to the corner of the ceiling above him and fired a shot. The sound reverberated throughout the stairwell. He heard the men above him stir. Below there was no sound. Toni and Kurt had to hear that.
“Ciao,” Jake screamed.
Around the corner above him came a flurry of flashes without sound. He dodged to his left and hugged the wall. Plaster flew from the wall where he had been standing.
Jake pumped off a couple rounds toward the flashing barrel.
Then Jake thought of the others below him. Did they know he knew they were there? He smashed his body as close to the wall as he could. Sweat streaked down the sides of his face. His heart pounded uncontrollably. What if those below were just visiting the old man on the third floor? Then the shots would have made them move, and they won’t be there. You’ve gotta move. They’ve got you, Jake.
Now.
Jake swung around the corner, fired five shots quickly downward, and returned to his position on the wall. Two men. One hit for sure. Come on Toni, Kurt, I could use some help here.
Two shots rang out above him. And then the sound of heavy footsteps moving up to the third floor.
“Jake, is that you?” Toni yelled.
“Shit, yeah,” Jake said. “Who else would shoot up your apartment. Is it clear up there?”
“Yes, hurry.”
Jake ran up toward Toni’s apartment. She and Kurt were standing with the door wide open, guns drawn.
Jake signaled with his hands that there were two upstairs and two downstairs. And that he had hit at least one downstairs. Jake popped his magazine out and replaced it with a full one.
The door to the third floor apartment smashed in. Toni gasped and put her hand over her mouth.
Jake shook his head. “He’s down on the first floor apartment,” he whispered. “Kurt, stay here and hold those two from getting any closer. Toni, let’s go.”
Jake and Toni quickly ran up the stairs. Jake peaked around the corner. The old man’s door hung open. He moved forward quickly with his gun cocked and ready to fire. He felt Toni just behind him. Jake had been in the apartment a couple of times, so he knew the layout. But the rooms were dark.
Now.
Jake flung himself through the open door to the living room carpet. Instantly, a barrage of flashes from behind where the sofa normally sat lit the room. Bullets thumped against the wall behind Jake.
Jake shot three times toward the flashes. He heard the distinct thud of bullet penetrating flesh. He rolled across the carpet a few feet.
Then from the kitchen came another barrage. Toni instantly fired four times and then scooted back behind the door.
Jake crawled behind a large, thick lounge chair. Had he killed the man he hit? He thought he heard a body hit the ground, but he wasn’t sure. Now what?
Shots echoed up the stairway from Kurt’s gun. It had to be his 45 automatic, Jake thought. The sound was much louder than all the 9mm shots fired so far.
Then at least five more shots came from downstairs. Not Kurt this time.
One more shot from Kurt. Then silence.
Jake looked to where Toni was positioned. He couldn’t see her. The darkness was complete. He picked up a small ash tray from a table next to the chair and flung it across the room. Flashes came from the kitchen, followed by Toni firing three times.
As they fired, Jake crawled across toward where he had shot the first guy. He slithered around the outside of the large sofa. He listened for breathing. Nothing.
Then To
ni shot twice. With the light from the flashing Uzi return fire, Jake peered around the sofa. The man he shot lay face up just two feet from him. Jake reached his hand around the corner of the sofa and felt the man’s neck. Nothing. Lifeless. His neck was still warm, but no pulse. Then he felt a moist, stickiness that had to be blood. He slid his hand up to the man’s face. His nose was nearly gone. Jake quickly pulled his hand away and wiped it on the carpet. A shiver came over him. Control Jake. Control.
Jake scooted forward far enough for his gun to clear the edge of the sofa.
“Your friends are dead, give it up.” More flashes came from the kitchen. Jake could feel the sofa taking hits, and the wall next to the door near Toni.
Jake and Toni fired a salvo. And then the louder sound of Kurt’s 45 auto. Jake moved out farther from behind the sofa and opened fire through the thin kitchen wall until his gun was empty. Quickly, he popped in his last magazine. But the flashes ended.
Then silence. The smell of gun powder filled the air. And the hard, cold iron smell of blood from the man next to Jake. His ears were ringing.
“Toni?”
“Yeah?”
“Hit the lights.”
Finally, the overhead light lit the room. Jake looked over to the door. Toni was crouched on one side and Kurt on the other.
Toni pointed toward the kitchen. “I can see his feet on the floor.”
Jake got up and charged toward the kitchen. The man lay face down in a pool of blood. “All clear.”
Toni and Kurt drifted slowly into the room. Jake watched as Kurt winced when he saw the man with no nose. In the light, Jake could see that the back of the man’s head had been shattered and splintered and was stuck to the wall about six feet behind the sofa.
The last to die was riddled with at least five bullets. It was hard to tell through all the blood.
Jake turned the man over. He had a strong jaw and pock marked face. Even lifeless he looked mean.
Toni moved over closer and crouched down for a better look. “I know him. Well, I don’t know him, but I’ve had a few run-ins with him and his buddies over the years. I nailed a few of his friends about two years ago.”
