by L. T. Ryan
Ivanov didn’t respond. He stared at his desk in disbelief.
“Sir?”
Ivanov slowly looked up. Met Julij’s stare and held it for a moment. Then he exploded in a fit of rage. He started in the center of his desk and with his right hand, knocked everything off of it and then did the same to the left. Papers, pens, keyboard, mouse and monitor. All fell and crashed to the floor. Afterward, he stood in front of his desk, breathing heavily. He spoke slowly and said, “See if we can get a location on Noble. And see about getting a security team here.”
Julij nodded. Said nothing.
“God help us if Jack Noble arrives here first.”
Episode 9
1
Bear and Pierre sat side by side on a bench, facing Rat Rock in Central Park. The sun hid behind thick clouds that held the promise of a spring storm. The large rock cropping in front of them was as gray as the clouds, and if not for the budding trees and skyscrapers in the background, it would have blended into the sky behind it.
The rock shielded the men from the cold wind. The area was quiet and calm. The climbers who typically scaled the rock were absent today. Too cold and too early. The playground behind them was empty, as all the kids were back in school.
Walkers and joggers and bikers passed at sporadic intervals. Thin white cords dangled from their ears. Sunglasses shielded their eyes. They largely ignored the two men who appeared to be enjoying the morning sun on a brisk thirty-five degree New York City morning.
“You were inside the old man’s compound, right?” Bear asked.
“I remember the layout pretty well,” Pierre replied.
Bear nodded. Although he’d never been inside the old man’s house, he’d seen it from the outside. Heard stories about the inside. Mandy had been in there. So had Clarissa, but she’d be hard pressed to remember the layout. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t around to help.
“If we can get inside, pretty sure I can locate his office,” Pierre said.
Bear thought for a moment. “No way we get inside. That place is guarded like the White House. Roving security teams on the outside. Always a team on all four sides. A team at the front entrance and one at the back. Besides that, everything is electronic access controlled.”
Pierre nodded. “It is.”
Neither man spoke for a few minutes. All Frank had told them was to take out the old man. Didn’t provide any further instruction or offer any additional help. Kill him. Plain and simple. Bear didn’t hesitate to accept. The old man took out a contract on his life. Now he would pay.
“Any ideas?” Pierre said.
“We need to stalk him. Figure out his routine.” Bear paused while two women jogged past. “That day you spent with him, did anything seem habitual? Breakfast at a specific place? Coffee at a certain cafe?”
Pierre leaned back and took a sip from a disposable coffee cup. Steam escaped through the narrow slit in the lid. “Not that I saw. He picked me up around 10 a.m. and we drove to his place. We waited there until I left. If he has any routines, he didn’t make me privy to them.”
“OK. That’s the first thing we need to establish.”
“We’ll have to tail him for a while then. Can we get close to the compound in order to do so?”
Bear shook his head. “It’ll be a stretch. This is going to be a pain. We can’t rely on luck, though, so we have to figure out a way.”
“Should we call Frank?”
“No,” Bear said. “I’ve got someone who might be able to help us.”
“Who?”
Bear glanced sideways at Pierre. He still wasn’t sure how much he could trust the Frenchman. Better to keep the name close to the vest. “I’ll let you know when you need to know.”
Pierre nodded. “I understand.”
A group of small children approached from the west. Bear estimated there were twenty kids. They followed a woman dressed in khaki pants and a blue sweater covered by a black vest. He figured she was their teacher. They filed past Bear and Pierre, following the wrap around walkway to the park behind the bench.
“You think Frank will honor his end of the deal?” Pierre asked.
“What, give you a job?”
“Yeah.”
“You really want a job in the SIS?”
Pierre hiked his shoulders an inch and held out his hands.
“Do this job and get on his good side,” Bear said. “But you don’t want to be a part of that group. Trust me.”
“Did you work for them as well?”
“No, but Jack did. For two years. Maybe things have changed since, but based on what he told me, I’d never work with there.”
Pierre didn’t speak. He stared out over the rock formation in front of them.
“Working for yourself is where it’s at,” Bear continued. “Hell, you saw that. How much they offer you to take me out?”
“Two-fifty,” Pierre paused to take a drag from his cigarette. “Euros,” he added.
A few minutes passed and Bear got up and started walking. Pierre followed. They walked north to 67th and then headed west until they reached Columbus. They turned north again and walked five more blocks to 72nd, where the apartment Frank provided them was located. They stopped outside the door.
“Let’s do a drive by of the old man’s place,” Bear said.
They turned and headed east. Walked two blocks. Frank had a car for them. Kept it garaged on 72nd, next to the park. Ten minutes later they were on the road.
Bear drove from memory. It had been over six months since he stood outside the old man’s compound. They drove past the sprawling house, then turned around a block away. Bear pulled the car over to the side of the road once they had a view of the compound. They faced the rear entrance, where the cars were parked. There was little chance of Feng leaving through the front door. If he were to step out, it would be through the back.
“That’s the car,” Pierre said. “The white Mercedes. That’s the car he picked me up in.”
Bear nodded. Leaned back. He looked at Pierre and said, “Get low.”
“Where’s the security teams?”
“Wondering that myself. Maybe they don’t rove during the day. Just at night.”
“Guys on the roof probably see everything during the day.” Pierre pointed above the house, at the armed man standing at the corner nearest them.
“We should probably back up,” Bear said.
He placed his hand on the shifter. Stopped. The rear door of the house opened and the old man stepped out. A large man followed him out, then walked past him toward the white Mercedes.
“That’s the driver,” Pierre said.
“We need to turn the car around. He knows both our faces. The driver knows yours. Might know mine.”
Bear dropped the car into reverse and backed up twenty feet, then whipped the wheel around and drove another block away. He stared into the rear-view mirror, waiting for the Mercedes to get on the road. He didn’t have to wait long. The Mercedes pulled out of the lot and drove toward them.
“Get down,” Bear said as he ducked into his seat.
Pierre did the same.
They waited until the car passed, then sat up. Bear put the car in drive and followed the white Mercedes.
They drove into Queens. The vehicle in front of them turned onto 73rd. Pulled to the curb in front of a diner.
Bear passed and stopped at the end of the street. Watched from the rear-view mirror.
The driver stepped out of the Mercedes and walked around the back of the vehicle. He opened Feng’s door. The old man stepped out. They headed toward the diner.
A horn blared and Bear shifted his gaze. A line of cars had formed behind him. He dropped his eyes an inch and saw that the traffic light had turned green. He said, “Tomorrow we come here for lunch.”
2
The long flight across the Atlantic and Europe passed by quickly for Jack. He had forty-eight hours of non-stop action and seven shots of whiskey to thank for the sleep he found o
n the plane.
Jack and Jasmine landed in Athens just after noon. Grabbed a connecting flight to the island of Crete. Rented a small car and drove to the town of Palaiochora. He found it hard to believe that he’d only been gone a week. His life had changed drastically in the span of seven days. The six months of relaxation that had seemingly reprogrammed him were nothing but a distant thought now, like candles set adrift on the open sea.
He slowed the car down as he approached the cafe. Stopped next to the curb.
“This is the place?” Jasmine said.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Lived here for six months.”
Jasmine got out of the car and looked around. “It’s beautiful. Must have been boring, though.”
“At first. Then it became relaxing. I can’t explain it. A feeling I only ever had once before in my life.”
“When was that?”
“Three months in Key West.”
She said nothing.
Jack walked into the cafe and an old man stepped out from behind the counter. “Jack, my friend, how are you?”
Jack met the man halfway and shook his hand. “I’m OK. Need to get a few things from the apartment and then we’ll be on our way.”
“Sure, sure. Let me get the key for you.” The old man slipped behind the counter and ducked out of sight.
Jack looked around. Old men nodded in his direction as they sipped on their coffee and ate their pastries. Jack said, “Has anyone been here since I left? Looking for me or Alik?”
The old man poked his head up and shook it. “No, it’s been quiet. We had a few men here all week. Americans. They wouldn’t tell us who they were. Only said they were here to protect us for the week.”
Jack looked over his shoulder at Jasmine. She lifted an eyebrow and nodded. It was a clear enough of a gesture to tell Jack that Frank had sent multiple teams to Crete.
“Here it is,” the man said as he stood. He walked out from behind the counter. Tossed the key in Jack’s direction.
Jack reached up and snatched the key out of the air, then walked past the man toward the stairs. He motioned for Jasmine to follow him. They climbed the stairs. He took his time and stayed alert. He had no reason to distrust the old man. But someone else might have shown up in the past week and threatened him. That same person could be waiting, or have a team waiting, in Jack’s apartment.
They reached the top floor. Jack held up a finger directed at Jasmine and then pressed his ear against the door. Didn’t hear a sound. His hand grasped the doorknob and he turned it. Unlocked. The key had been unnecessary. Someone had been there, whether the old Greek knew it or not. The door pushed open and Jack waited. Nothing and no one stirred inside. He stepped in and gestured for Jasmine to follow him.
Nothing seemed out of place. It looked the same as best he could remember. He had reached a point where he didn’t mentally inventory a room before he left. The apartment was a six month blur in his mind. If the couch had been moved, he would have noticed. But if a knife were missing from a drawer, that would go undetected.
“Looking for anything in particular?” Jasmine asked.
“I’ve got a few guns here. Stashed in a safe in the back. If it weren’t for them we wouldn’t have come here.”
“You really think that old guy downstairs sold you out?”
“No.”
“Why are you being so cautious then?”
Jack didn’t reply. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher’s knife from a wooden block. He stepped into the hall. Heard Jasmine grab a knife as well.
He pushed the door to his old room open. The mess that greeted him was confirmation that someone had been here, inside the apartment. Clothes were strewn across the floor. The bed was stripped down and the mattresses flipped and laying half off the bed. The only question was whether it was the Russians or the Greeks who had been inside.
“Didn’t realize you’re such a slob, Jack.”
He looked at Jasmine and shook his head. “Nothing in there anyway. Whoever it was wasted their time.”
He turned around and returned to the hall. Walked past the closed door to Alik’s room. Opened a closet door. Got down on his knees and tossed blankets and towels over his shoulder. He pulled out a metal safe. Punched a code in and opened the door. Pulled out a 9mm Beretta and handed it to Jasmine. Pulled out a second weapon and tucked it in his waistband. He grabbed the extra magazines and some cash and then closed the safe.
Jasmine inspected the weapon and sighed. “I feel safe again, Jack.”
He nodded. “Me, too. Mostly.” He looked at Alik’s door. “Let’s check his room as well.” He walked past Jasmine. Grabbed his Beretta and stuck the barrel next to the edge of the door. He tried to open it a crack. It barely moved. “What the hell?”
“What is it?”
“Door won’t move.” He banged against the door. It opened an inch at a time. “Anyone in there?”
No response.
He kept pushing and kicking at the door, eventually breaking through the middle. He saw several items on the floor piled up like a barricade. His eyes shifted to the back of the room where he noticed a series of wires. He traced the wires back and saw that were connected to the door. The wires split the middle of the room. One ran to the side and connected to a device on the dresser. The device had a green LED display. The display had two numbers, big and bold. A three and a zero. A timer. Frozen. It wasn’t counting down.
“Christ.”
“What is it?”
“A bomb.”
“What?”
“Someone was expecting us.”
They backed out of the apartment. Closed the door. Reached the bottom of the stairs and approached the counter where the old man was standing. He was smiling at them.
“You need to get everyone out of here,” Jack said.
Confusion spread across the man’s face. His smile faded. “What are you talking about, Jack?”
“There is a bomb in one of the rooms upstairs. The room Alik used. Someone was in there. They ransacked my room. Put a bomb in his.”
“A bomb?” the old man said loudly.
Forks dropped against plates. Coffee mugs hit the floor and shattered. The patrons of the cafe stood and raced toward the door. What a week it had been for them. A shooting and now this.
“Yeah, a bomb,” Jack said. “Get out. Call the cops. Don’t tell them I was here. Just say that you were getting around to cleaning the place up and found it in one of the bedrooms.”
“It’s not going to explode?”
“No. Not yet. Don’t go up there and mess around. You might set it off.”
The old man nodded. Dropped his apron on the floor and walked past Jack and Jasmine, through the front door. He stopped outside and waited for them to follow him out. Then he locked the door and took off down the street.
“Poor guy,” Jasmine said.
Jack nodded and said nothing. Walked back to the car and got in behind the steering wheel. He waited for Jasmine, and then pulled away from the curb and left the town behind.
“Where are we going now?”
“To check on Alik. Only problem is, I don’t remember the exact route.”
Jack had watched the drive to the old Greek lady’s house in reverse. When he had left with Frank’s men, they had driven from the house to the small airport, which was on the opposite end of the island. He knew they had traveled north when they left the cafe a week ago. He tried to recall any landmarks that might have been hidden deep in his memory. There weren’t many, and the ones he did recall weren’t near a turn.
“We should call Frank,” Jasmine said.
“Not yet. I want to see Alik first. Besides, it’s early in D.C.”
“Maybe he can help us get to the house.”
Jack shook his head. “I have an idea. I know the way from the house to the airport. If we head toward there, I’ll know the intersecting road and can work backward.”
Ten minutes later he saw the road. Tur
ned right and navigated to the house. He turned onto a dirt driveway, past a line of trees and pulled in behind the pickup truck he had ridden in back of the week before.
“Be alert,” he said.
“OK,” Jasmine said.
“The guys were old. The woman was older. But who knows who might have come by in the past week.”
“OK.”
He cut the engine and got out. Approached the house slowly and cautiously. The air was still and mild. Nothing seemed out of place. Curtains hung in the windows, blocking any view of the inside of the house. He heard Jasmine’s footsteps behind him. Other than that, not a sound. Then the door flung open and Jack stopped. He aimed his gun at the open doorway and waited.
3
The old Greek woman stepped outside, a lit cigarette in her hand. She lifted her hand to her mouth and took a long, deep drag.
Jack tucked his gun away and nodded at the woman.
She nodded back and said, “Your friend is gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“He left.”
“Dead?”
“No.”
“Where did he go?”
“Wherever they took him.”
“Who took him?”
“Some men.”
“How many men?”
“Several.”
“Did you know them?”
“No.”
“Were they American?”
“Not with those accents.”
“What were they then?”
“Not sure.”
“What did the accents sound like?”
“Like his.”
“Russian?”
“Yes.”
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Jasmine. She still had her gun in her hand and aimed it at the front door. He didn’t try to encourage her to put it away. He looked at the old woman again and said, “Is your son around?”
“He’s working.”
“Where?”
She shrugged.
“Did he see the men?”
“No.”
“Was he here when they came?”
She shook her head.
“Did they threaten you?”
She didn’t answer. She lifted her head and stared up at the trees.
