by J. T. Patten
“Yes, sir.”
“Now go start me another war somewhere near Mexico or Canada. Let’s get some more of that Canuck skin in the game. Those fur hat-wearing pussies. And get good people this time. We have more money now to hire good people. Get me the best. Get Havens. Let him pick his own team. We can clean up this little mess of his and expunge the records. Let him run the show. Shit, have him hunt down Draeger. And don’t ask me how to do it. Just do it or find me someone who can.”
“On it, sir.”
“Close the door on your way out.”
The general watched the door close before opening his drawer to pull out a royal blue folder. It was embossed with a corporate logo. He opened the folder and pulled out the top sheet. He looked at the figures in the offer letter.
850K plus 200K guaranteed bonus to run a homeland security business unit for this company? Wait’ll I really get things fired up. Let’s see what the competition will pay by summer.
Chapter 71
Two men shook hands in greeting on a mountainside in Arizona. While one unhitched a pair of mountain bikes the other went to the truck and extracted their rifles. Both agreed on the hide position and prepared themselves with their C14 Timberwolf sniper rifles arming .338 Lapua cartridges. They watched the target location through the lenses of the TrackingPoint precision guided firearm system until they marked their man. The PGF did all auto calculations through the scope, which was ideal for enhancing old sniper skills that had gotten rusty.
Lars Bjorklund was moving about in his kitchen. The panoramic window provided an excellent vantage for the shooters. Lars opened the refrigerator and grabbed a quart of eggnog. One of the benefits of being a bachelor was never having to hide when swigging right out of a milk carton. Swigging from an open carton of eggnog was one of those sweet moments in life for Lars these days.
“On two. I go head, you go mass.”
The two professionals were perfectly in sync and had spent hours in planning while traveling to the hide site earlier in the day for the first and only recon. Final confirmations solidified the mission as a go. The selected round was chosen with consideration to the distance, angle, and need to penetrate the windowpane.
“Roger that.”
“One…”
“Wait. I want to shoot the eggnog.”
Havens took a full breath with a slow release to maintain his rhythm and keep his heart rate slowed.
“And why, Red, do you want to shoot the eggnog?”
“I think it would be funny.”
“If I miss we have blown our shot—literally.”
“Don’t miss. Hurry before he puts it away.”
“You are an idiot.”
“Because I am here with you ready to commit murder? I’m a hero. Heroes don’t kill cops.”
“Ex-cop. Dirty cop. On two, I have head you have…eggnog. Don’t miss. I’m gonna try using the hole you are going to make if he moves in.”
“Here he goes. I get eggnog, wait a sec, and then go head through my entrance. I think you best go direct to glass and not catch an angle. Just don’t start laughing. I’m going.”
“The round is going to slow and tumble with contact to the glass and make a big hole in that carton. May blow off his hand.”
Lars looked at his one and only Christmas card of the season. It was affixed to his refrigerator by a cheap magnet that said “Larry.” There were no Lars magnets in the souvenir shop. The card was from Sean.
After all this shit, he still sees me as a brother and thought enough to send a holiday greeting. “Lars. Wherever you are, I’ll be there for you. Merry Xmas. S.”
Lars took another gulp.
“I’ll try not to hit his hand so the coroner can fold them in his casket. Glad you decided to do this, Sean. It was the right move.”
“Yeah.” It was your idea.
The carton exploded in Lars’ hand. Eggnog burst through the air. Red started giggling and dropped from his optic as Havens fired the second shot a fraction of a second later.
“Target down?”
“Target down.”
“I thought it would be funnier.”
“It was a little funny when eggnog splashed on his face.”
“That was a little funny. Ready to go?”
“Yep. Let’s go.”
“Sorry about all this shit, Sean.”
“I know. Thanks. Did you really want to shoot the carton or save yourself from life in prison? Either is fine. Just wondering.” I knew at the last minute you’d want to keep your hands clean.
Red regarded his friend for a moment. He felt exposed.
“If you needed me to do it, I would have done it for you, brother. I could tell that you were going through with it. And I’ll admit the thought crossed my mind about personal liability. I guess in the moment I just got a chuckle out of the thought of his face getting doused. Seemed fitting to humiliate him first. I know we don’t laugh at a man about to pay the ultimate price.”
“We don’t. But his big ass did look funny with eggnog all over. I had to pull though before someone put us on Funniest Home Videos.”
Sean’s chuckle released the tension Red was feeling.
“I know. It’d be funnier in a movie.”
“Tarantino style.”
“Did I tell you that I kicked Harrison in the nuts after I killed him?”
“No!” Red scrunched his face quizzically. “Why?”
“I thought it would be funny.”
“Shit, Sean, you are one fucked up dude.”
“You too, Red. Real fucked. Your number was all over Harrison’s phone. And your travel forays were all over Lars’ computer. You covered all the federal angles of this and covered up some evidence while pushing other bits up the flagpole for national effect. You sat in the car while my wife was killed. I found out you and Draeger had been in touch regularly too. Guess you patched things up a couple years back.”
Red paused just long enough for Havens to lift and fire a concealed .38 caliber semi-automatic pistol. The shot found its mark where Havens intended—just above the right eye a bit over the temple. It was enough to kill Red instantly without looking like a professional. Havens had encouraged Red’s ride up the mountain by bicycle to mirror the Baseline Killer case of Phoenix or the Serial Shooters incidents occurring around that time. Copycat? Third party? Either way it would have folks guessing.
The serial attributed kill saved Havens the chore of cleanup aside from the rifles which he simply cased and slid through the cutout in the mattresses and box strings tied down to the pickup bed. He checked Red’s corpse quickly to ensure no pocket litter pointed to Havens. It surprised Havens to find that Red was also carrying a small Sig Sauer 38H .32 caliber semi-auto. The pistol was not Red’s usual brand. To the best of Havens’ knowledge, it wasn’t even Red’s gun. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils and exhaled slowly. Yet another friendship gone. He couldn’t waste the time or energy wondering if Red was planning to kill Havens too on that quiet mountain. Red may have been looking to finish the story as well. Havens was running low on friends.
Chapter 72
After a quick call and a few minutes waiting at the front door, a rather rattled Lars emerged. He still had eggnog on his shirt. He cautiously let his brother-in-law inside.
“Sorry for the mess, Lars.”
No response.
“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”
No response.
“I’ll get you another eggnog.”
Sensing no threat, but still on guard, Lars broke eye contact and looked down at the floor. His eyes followed the wet mess on his shirt to his shoes.
“It was the Southern Comfort brand. And I want two. I had just opened this one.”
“Yes,” Havens said, looking Lars up and down. “I see it was rather full.”
Both men burst into laughter, breaking the awkward moment.
“Lars, I broke into your home in Chicago.”
“I know.”
“Two ways. One, I have a key light since the hall is so dark, and if I have been drinking I need to find the hole. I saw that the tarnish on the edge of the lock opening had a bit of polish to it. Like steel wool or a lock wizard.”
“And two?”
“When I saw the lock was jimmied I really wasn’t sure who would be in my home, so before I got myself killed I stopped by my neighbor’s. I asked him if he had seen or heard anything and that I was concerned about someone potentially breaking in. He really didn’t want to say anything, but figuring I have been through a lot, he assuaged my fears and said my brother-in-law stopped by just to check on me.”
Havens nodded his head in understanding.
“Christina and Maggie had a key. You didn’t.”
“Sorry, Lars. Things weren’t adding up.”
“I understand. That’s why I had to get all wiggy on you. Tried to signal you with the pets. Smart predator, dangerous predator, but it fell short. Made sense in my head. I was scared and didn’t want to be seen with you so we could both stay safe. I knew I was in over my head and just hoped you would figure it out.”
“When I called you, I hoped you would understand what I meant. That’s why I said what I said.”
“I know, ‘Remember Seany, I am your brother. Red is not.’”
“It was a helluva leap of faith. But you got it.” Lars started to tear up.
“I know. That’s why I said, ‘Sir Charles understands.’”
“I wanted to believe you, man. But boy, when that shot took out my nog, Crissakes.”
“What were you thinking at the time?”
“Well, as you know, time stands still. I was aware that my nog exploded and my window had been shot, exploding the granite near the fridge. And then I saw your card. I figured, if that were Seany coming for me, he wouldn’t have missed. If it wasn’t you, then I prayed in that instance that you were going to be there for me.”
“You said you didn’t call the police. What did you do while I was coming down from the mountain?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“I think we have been through enough where we can share.”
“Well, the place had been cleaned before I got here, and I figured if indeed I was going to die, I knew the angle of the shooters had me pinned and I couldn’t get to a piece.”
“So?”
“I got on all fours and started slurping up that spilled eggnog. My Last Supper.” Lars lifted his shoulders and shrugged sheepishly as only a giant can do. “So how is that baby girl of mine?”
“She’s coming along and can’t wait to see you.”
“Well, I’ll come back soon once I get this cleared up for you.”
“You going to call it in?”
“Nah, not unless I need to. Shooter down?”
“Shooter down.”
“Red?”
“Dead.”
“Good. Had to practically wrestle the store owner’s security tape from Red at the scene. Too much of a coincidence for you to be in the area earlier. If you had a disguise, I knew you were going into the store and they could put something on you as the initial recon guy before the killing.”
“Thanks. Don’t suppose you have the tape?”
“Long gone. Destroyed. Red was still asking me for it. Did you see my notes that Red was also in those locations where the families were killed? I hoped you would. He managed to be FBI on the scene even out of state, but no one ever knew who he was since he said it was always unofficial. He showed up when I was looking into a Chicago cartel hit. Something wasn’t right. He had an awful lot of opinion about what was going on for someone unofficially there. I was surprised to see in the report that he was at your house too when Christina was killed. He was also at another site in DC that I was following up on. We had caught a picture of him while we were swarming the scene. I sent it on to one of my buddy detectives and got a match on him. I followed up on a few other scenes and every time there was that Red.”
“I suppose somewhere in between they saw you as a threat.”
“Just lucky they didn’t make me out to be family when I first got the pitch.”
“I’d like to say I designed that,” Sean said, “but I think we need more pictures around the house of Uncle Lars. I just can’t believe so many guys from my own crew over the years were involved.”
“Sorry, buddy. I know you were close. I think they resented you, but respected your capabilities. They just couldn’t pull it all off with you at arm’s length. Or like you said, that one guy wanted to get you back for some stuff he had pent up.”
“Yeah, we were all close, but not like my brother.” Sean put his hand on Lars’ shoulder and handed him a book that he had concealed beneath his jacket.
“What’s this?”
“Merry Christmas. Maggie helped me put some pictures together for you. They were able to pull some from the hard drives that were impounded. Some good ones of the three of you in there.”
Lars started to open the book and bit his lip holding back the emotions.
Havens put his hand on the book. “Why don’t you look at this later by yourself when you have things cleaned up. I have to ditch this truck I have parked down the road and get back over to Maggie at Mayo.”
“Maggie’s at Mayo?”
“Yeah. Close to family. She’s looking forward to seeing you when you can.”
“She’s talking?”
“Yeah, a bit. Slowly, but surely. They think she is processing everything but her motor skills need work. With the traumatic brain injury, she is going to need a lot of rehab for limb movement, balance, and of course walking again. Right now they are going to be focused on forming words better and with clarity. She passed a tower building test indicating memory and attention are coming around. Still going to be a long road to recovery as they say.”
“Well, glad to know you guys will be near. Let me know if I can help.”
“Thanks. I am going back home for a bit to get some things in order and probably put the house up. We’ll move where there is care for her and work for me.”
“Do you know what you are going to do?”
“I’m sure something will come up. I have some ideas. Just need to figure out how to get paid to do it. I liked the concept of the work I was supposed to be doing supporting military families that were having problems at home. I may see if I can get that going on my own perhaps. Could be a role for you if you’re interested.”
“Like I said, Sean. Anything I can do to help. I have a feeling I am going to need to do something to keep busy. So, we good?”
“We’re good.”
The two embraced again before Sean departed. As Sean was walking out the door, Lars called out.
“I am sorry about that train, Sean. Those poor souls shouldn’t have died that way.”
“We did the best we could. There are some bad dudes out there. Even the ones who are supposed to be the good guys.”
“It’s a black world, Sean.”
“I am afraid this is just the beginning.”
Chapter 73
The mild winters left some foliage to highlight the striking formation of the Albanian Alps. Prescott Draeger took in the familiar view as he crossed into the administrative district of Shkoder from Montenegro. The Mercedes M-Class hugged the turns, commanded by hands clad in leather CamelBak light assault gloves. The plush interior hugged Draeger’s torso in style and comfort. The cowhide seat trim looked fitting next to the lambskin black leather barn jacket that Draeger sported. The Czech CZ 110 9mm would have made for a classy advertisement photo laying in luxury on the passenger seat beside its owner. A much classier owner than the last few men who had tugged on its trigger. He passed a small herd of sheep as he wound up a hill through the river valley. Today was a good day. No more migraines. No more coffee.
It had been relatively easy leaving the country. Each time an airplane hatch closed, Draeger’s disposition improved. A signal fr
om Jason meant he had gotten out too. In Prescott’s opinion, Jason was still too uptight despite his time administering over discrete activities, but he did do as he was told. Draeger was amused by the thought of seeing how long Jason would survive in the field.
Driving home after Havens’ call, Draeger realized his vehicle could be traced, his phones that he had so carelessly used could be monitored. For all he knew a hit team could be waiting for him there in the garage, the entryway, a room. It was too much of a risk. He had let ego override his training. That couldn’t happen again.
Plans had not been perfect. Were it not for the satisfaction of seeing events unfold, Draeger would have internalized the shortcomings of his own performance. He would never reap the rewards in the manner he had intended, but perhaps it was fate. He knew his real employer would be fine with the outcome. Mission complete.
Draeger felt good about things now that he let it all go and fled to fight another day. He had attacked a weak apparatus and raised awareness for his cause. Havens had likely killed Mann. That was a nice convenience. Sure, Havens would want to kill Draeger, but with his daughter presumably alive, that harness would keep Sean in the U.S. for the foreseeable future. It would give Draeger time to implement his next plan and work internationally again. All it would take was a few keystrokes and Havens would be off running for his life. Draeger had plenty of funds to see it through and more than enough to start his new venture. It had always occurred to Draeger that operating in the black was illegal anyway, so why not reap the profits and go boots and knees together into crime and a completely deniable intelligence apparatus to secure the Homeland. He had just needed a little push to fully commit to the Pond.
Scanning the road, Draeger recognized some of the features and landmarks from the last time he passed along this way. He was only about eighty kilometers from his safe house destination. Another set of IDs, access to the web, plenty of kit, and plenty of underworld contacts still in lists from old jobs.
Yes, Draeger felt good about the future. He felt like he was driving to a new job grinning all the way. As he neared a small farm, an energetic dog ran along the road chasing the car. Draeger smiled as he veered off the pavement onto the side, overcoming the dog with his bumper and front tire and then rolling over the tumbling carcass with his rear wheel. It was good to be in control again. Havens had been right.
