VENGEANCE REAWAKENED

by Fredrick L. Stafford

The green tee-shirted man stood, lifted his seat cushion, and removed an MP5 submachine gun. “Yes, we can do it.”

  The bearded man stood, lifted his seat cushion, and removed an MP5 submachine gun and motioned for all to sit as Cardoza zoomed by for lap number four.

  They all waited and watched, weapons at the ready in their laps.

  After the fifth lap, Cardoza decelerated and brought the boat to a slow idle about 400-meters from his boathouse and cruised slowly toward it.

  The three men reeled in the fishing lines, removed the poles from their holders, and laid the poles on the boat’s deck.

  Cardoza’s boat was about 300 meters from the boathouse.

  The bearded man started their boat’s motor.

  Cardoza’s boat was about 200 meters from the boathouse.

  The three armed guards behind Cardoza’s house moved toward the boathouse to meet their arriving boss.

  Cardoza’s boat was about 100 meters from the boathouse.

  The bearded man’s hand remained on the throttle.

  The red tee-shirted man said, “Now.”

  The green tee-shirted man said, “Move now.”

  The bearded man’s hand clinched the throttle and then moved away from it, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “No. Damn it, no. We have to wait until the extraction team is in place. Damn it.”

  Cardoza’s boat—with the three unaware occupants—docked unmolested in the boathouse.

  PROJECT MOLKA: TASK 6

  THURSDAY

  APRIL 22ND

  CHAPTER 32

  Counsel Basement Office

  Israeli Embassy

  Brasilia, Brazil

  2:10 PM

  Molka accepted Raziela’s incoming video conference call and Raziela’s face appeared on-screen chewing.

  Raziela held up a “one-second” finger, finished her chew and swallow, and said, “Sorry, I missed breakfast and lunch. I had to eat something. It’s been crazy here.”

  “Where are you?” Molka said.

  “Arizona. They have great barbecue in this state. Ever been?” Raziela raised a forkful of shredded meat to her mouth. “Last bite, I promise.”

  “I’ve never been to Arizona,” Molka said. “I spent a month in the US southwest, though. Texas. They had great barbeque there too.”

  Raziela chewed, swallowed, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. You have a plan already?”

  “I have the solid outline of one,” Molka said. “But I need your help to finalize it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Before I get to that, I was informed about 10 minutes ago by the ambassador’s secretary that the civil police in Rio would like me to come in and answer a few questions about Henrique’s suicide. Would diplomatic immunity excuse me from that?”

  Raziela’s face contracted in thought a moment. “I’m not sure…but go ahead and meet with the police in Rio. Tell them exactly what you saw and heard. We have nothing to hide, and that will help close their investigation. But don’t sign anything.”

  “Alright,” Molka said.

  “Tell me your plan outline.”

  Molka read from notes she made on a legal pad she bought. “The tracking information shows a regular route of his trips from his house to his office at the hotel. And they always take basically the route we did when we made that trip.”

  “And that’s right through heavy city traffic,” Raziela said. “Which is not good for an interception.”

  “That’s what I figured too. But over the last week, he made several trips to a place called Tranquilidade do Lago, Lake Tranquility. Which is the name of an actual lake and also a little town next to it about a two-hour drive northeast from Rio.”

  “Yes, they tracked him heading that way when we were in Rio.”

  “Right,” Molka said. “And yesterday afternoon, Marvelous recorded a meeting Cardoza had in his office with someone named Felipe. Apparently, this Felipe was sent by Abreu. And Felipe told him that he and Abreu had located Henrique’s apartment, but there was no one else living there and nothing left to help them locate any of Henrique’s family.”

  “But he didn’t mention the female cop who knocked Abreu out, did he?”

  “No, he did not,” Molka said.

  Raziela grinned. “As I said, the machismo culture kept his mouth shut.”

  Molka continued. “Cardoza ended the meeting by telling Felipe he wouldn’t feel safe in Rio until Abreu could find out if the IDI was really trying to hit him or not and that he would continue to stay at the lake until then and that’s where they could contact him after business hours.”

  Raziela presented an intrigued face. “So, Cardoza might have a house at this Lake Tranquility.”

  “Only makes sense,” Molka said. “But to confirm it, I checked public records and found out that three years ago, Cardoza did purchase a large, expensive house on 20 acres of lakeside property on Lake Tranquility.”

  “Great follow up,” Raziela said. “You would make a good analyst for the Counsel.”

  Molka bounced in her chair. “Oooo…a nice quiet desk job. How soon can you get me transferred?”

  Raziela grinned. “Funny.”

  Molka got serious again. “Anyway, I looked at the online satellite pics of Lake Tranquility and the town of Lake Tranquility and Cardoza’s house. The whole area is very rural with one road leading there from the main highway that cuts through very rural country.”

  Raziela nodded. “And that road would offer some good opportunities to intercept Cardoza’s car when he comes or goes.”

  “Yes. I figured to rent a van in Rio and drive it out to the lake. Then once I grab Cardoza, I’ll restrain him, throw him in the back of the van, and drive him to the embassy.”

  “How far is the drive?” Raziela said.

  “It’s a drive. About 13 hours.”

  “About the same distance if you grabbed him in Rio.”

  “Yes,” Molka said. “And I also figured to ask Danny Geller to help me get Cardoza through embassy security and into the basement without any questions.”

  “Excellent idea.” Raziela grinned. “You’re making my day. If you only knew what I was dealing with here.”

  “One little problem, though,” Molka said. “Those satellite pics I found were almost two years old. I would want to go to the lake and spend some time doing recon.”

  “Absolutely. Get out there first thing tomorrow after you see the Rio police.”

  “Ok. And if the opportunity presents itself, I won’t waste any time taking Cardoza.”

  “I agree and approve of your plan. It’s good.”

  “Thanks,” Molka said. “But this is the part I needed your help with. I need someone else to assist me. At least to cover Cardoza’s driver-body guard Leonardo while I get Cardoza into the van. I don’t want to have to shoot the guy. He’s just making a living. Could you find someone?”

  “I anticipated you would need a helper, and I already secured you one.”

  “Good,” Molka said. “They’re located in Rio, I take it?”

  “No, they’re located right upstairs from you in a cubicle. My newest recruit into the Projects Program.”

  “Who would that be?”

  Raziela grinned again. “Project Nathan.”

  CHAPTER 33

  6:12 PM

  “Pro tip: If the ambassador ever calls you into his office and tells you that he just received a priority secure communiqué from Tel Aviv, which states that Raziela would like to speak with you via secure video conference in the Counsel’s basement office, don’t go down there.”

  Molka could not suppress a giggle at Nathan’s statement when she opened the apartment door to his arrival. “Come in, Nathan. And welcome to the program.”

  After their meeting, Molka followed Raziela’s instructions to call Nathan on his cubicle phone and ask him to meet her at their apartment to coordinate the task away from Nathan's embassy coworkers' nosey eyes and watchful
ears.

  Nathan entered carrying a brown leather binder. He dressed in his hipster office outfit of the day: lime green slim-fit, dress shirt, yellow tie, yellow dress pants, yellow dress shoes, and accessorized with yellow-framed glasses and yellow earrings.

  He glanced around at the furnished apartment and frowned at the couch. “I stayed here for a few days. Back when I first got to Brasilia two years ago until they assigned me permanent housing. I can’t believe that same grungy couch is still here. You don’t even want to hear the stories other embassy guys have told me about what they did on that thing.”

  Molka held up a stop sign hand. “You’re right, I don’t. I was just sitting on it.”

  Nathan grimaced. “Eww…had a recent tetanus shot?”

  “Let’s sit at the kitchen table,” Molka said. “I sterilized those plastic seats with bleach when I first got here.”

  They moved into the kitchen and sat opposite each other. Molka’s legal pad sat on the tabletop.

  Nathan flashed a nervous smile. “This feels a bit awkward and weird to me. I wish we had the chance to get to know each other better before we were paired up for something so serious.”

  Molka shrugged. “Well, where are you from?”

  “Rishon LeZion,” Nathan said. “You?”

  “I grew up in Haifa. Raziela said you’re an artist. What kind?”

  “I’m a failed sketch artist and a failed painter. Which is why I made a perfect candidate for a job in the Cultural Department. What did you do before this?”

  “I’m a veterinarian.”

  Nathan grinned. “Oh, how cute. I would love to get a dog, but I don’t think it would be fair to the animal to make them wait in my little apartment all day trying to hold it.”

  Molka nodded. “So…um…is that enough casual banter to make you feel less awkward and weird? Because that’s about all the casual banter I have in me.”

  Nathan laughed. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. You’re funny. Please get to our business.”

  Molka moved her legal pad in front of her. “Raziela told me she filled you in on our joint task. Tell me what she told you so I can fill in any missed details.”

  Nathan removed a phone from his front pocket. “Well, first, she had me grab this from the basement closet to communicate with you. She said it’s encrypted but perhaps not 100 percent anymore. But still better than a regular phone.”

  “Yes,” Molka said. “She gave me the number for your new phone. Keep going.”

  “Then she told me that Gabriel Cardoza did some bad things in our country years ago—which, by the way, I pointed out to you both that I sensed he had a bad boy streak, thank you very much—and then she told me Cardoza is to be covertly brought into the embassy and detained there until an extraction team can take him to Tel Aviv. So far, so right?”

  “Yes,” Molka said.

  “And it’s my job to assist you in bringing Cardoza into the embassy and detaining him there for the extraction team by whatever means necessary. Is that it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I’ll do my best to help you in any way I can.” Nathan frowned. “But I have to confess. I’m super stressed about all this. I don’t handle confrontation very well.”

  Molka’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Because Raziela told me you served in the 38th Brigade and saw combat.”

  “Well, I was trained as a combat videographer but mostly just shot training videos and the occasional ceremonial military parade.”

  “I think you’ll be fine.” Molka tore a sheet from the pad with writing on it and passed it to Nathan. “The embassy has business accounts with that airline and that rental car company.”

  Nathan viewed the paper.

  Molka continued. “I already asked the ambassador’s secretary to have your name added to the authorized user's list for both. Raziela wants us to take separate flights to Rio. Try to book the first flight in the morning. Let me know, and then I’ll take the next one.”

  Nathan nodded and tucked the paper into his binder.

  “When you get to Rio, rent a van we can use to transport Cardoza back to the embassy. A work-type van with no windows in the rear area ideally.”

  “Acknowledged.” Nathan opened his binder to reveal a pen and pad secured inside, and he started a checklist.

  Molka continued. “Drive from Rio out to the town of Lake Tranquility. It’s in the GPS. Rent us a room at a hotel there we can use as a staging base.” She removed a thick yellow envelope from under her pad and passed it to Nathan. “There’s a prepaid debit card with a 2,000 reais balance for the hotel in there and 8,000 reais in cash for your expenses.”

  Nathan peered into the envelope “Why so much?”

  “You’ll need it. After you arrive in Rio and rent the van, call this number.” Molka tore another sheet from her pad and passed it to Nathan.

  Nathan viewed the paper. “This is a person named Maximillian?”

  “Yes. He’ll be expecting your call. Set a meeting with him in the airport parking lot. He has two semi-automatic handguns, two small-of-the-back holsters, spare mags, two sets of binoculars, two sets of night vision, two tactical hoods, flex-cuffs, handcuffs, a belly chain, ankle shackles, a blindfold, and duct tape for you. Pay him his fee from the expense cash.”

  Nathan finished writing down the items. “Ok, so I understand the binoculars, night vision, and the restraining items for Cardoza, but why the hoods?”

  “We don’t want Cardoza to see two friendly, familiar faces. We want him to see two scary masked killers. Intimidation is good for cooperation.”

  Nathan gave an understanding nod. “But what about the guns? I’m not a big gun guy. Are you expecting us to have to shoot anyone?”

  “No,” Molka said. “We’ll also need the weapons for intimidation purposes. And it’s always best to be prepared.”

  Nathan entered more items on his checklist and read. “Fly to Rio in AM, rent van, set up meeting with Maximillian in airport parking lot to secure equipment, drive to Lake Tranquility, and check into a hotel.” He looked up at Molka. “Is that everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “How should I dress?”

  “Casual,” Molka said. “And bring some dark clothes for nighttime work.”

  Nathan jotted on his pad. “Acknowledged. And what should I do after I get the hotel room?”

  “Wait for me to get there.”

  “And what’s your plan to grab Cardoza after you do?”

  Molka sat back and exhaled heavily. “I’m still trying to think of one.”

  PROJECT MOLKA: TASK 6

  FRIDAY

  APRIL 23RD

  CHAPTER 34

  Civil Police Station

  Rio de Janeiro

  9:36 PM

  “Sign it at the bottom, please,” the detective said.

  “Do I have to?” Molka said.

  “It is preferable.”

  “But not required. Because this is not a legal document.”

  “That’s right,” the detective said.

  “Well, I told you everything I can about what happened that day, so...” Molka pushed the account the detective asked her to write about Henrique’s suicide across the table in the little interview room. “I don’t feel the need to sign it. No offense, detective.”

  The detective shrugged. “No offense taken. One less trafficker in the favela is all we really care about. Good riddance to the bastard.”

  Molka exited the police station a little disgusted by the detective’s final flippant comment on Henrique’s death. But she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of reflection. It was a mean world with a lot of mean people saying a lot of mean things. And she had to stay focused on her task: task number six. Task number six 2.0, to be precise.

  Molka reached her car in the police station parking lot, drove through the downtown area, and picked up highway BR-101, which she would take northeast for about two hours to reach Lake Tranquility. Which meant it would be close to midnight before she ar
rived instead of before sundown as she hoped. Not her fault, though. She took the late morning flight to Rio, but the detective she had to see was out of the office working a “more important homicide case” and kept her waiting for almost seven hours.

  Nathan took the 7:30 AM flight, and she received a message from him at 3:48 PM stating: “Arrived LT and checked into Silver Jardim Hotel. Unit #6.” Followed by the hotel’s address.

  He made good time considering everything he had to do. And she appreciated his attentiveness and note-taking at her apartment briefing. He seemed fully committed to the task. But Raziela decided not to inform him about the earlier failed portion of the task because she didn’t want to overwhelm him.

  Molka turned on the car’s air conditioning. It was another warm, humid night. She was glad she chose to wear her cool and comfortable white polo shirt, khaki shorts, brown sandals, high pony-tailed hair, and black-framed glasses ensemble.

  She’d packed her gear bag with both her new tracksuits, cross trainers, socks, and underwear for three days. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take longer. She also brought her black mock turtleneck, black jeans, black tac boots, and her old pilot’s watch to wear when the time came.

  Molka drove into the little town of Lake Tranquility at 11:43 PM. It rested on its large kidney-shaped namesake’s western shore, and—judging by all the little hotels and motels, little restaurants and cafes, souvenir shops, bait and fishing tackle stores lining its two-lane main street—it relied on tourism for subsistence.

  Molka pulled over in a closed restaurant parking lot and sent a message to Nathan: Just arrived in LT.

  He messaged back: K. See you in a few.

  She then entered the address for the Silva Jardim Hotel he sent her earlier into the GPS. It was located off the lakeside road on the lake’s south shore. But she chose to first drive along the lake’s north shore where Cardoza’s house was located, take a quick look, and then circle around the lake to the south and meet Nathan at the hotel.