“I called Hannah earlier. Everything’s fine. I told Magdalena I’d be back soon. She seemed relieved,” Jet said as they watched ostentatious luxury cars glide by, tinted windows safeguarding the occupants’ anonymity.
“I would be. Everyone’s been through a lot. Ferry explosions, attacks, manhunts…it’ll be good to get home, won’t it?”
“It’ll be good to get back to Hannah. But home? I’m not sure where that is anymore. We can’t stay in Uruguay. We’ll need to move someplace else and start over again.”
“You keep mentioning Argentina. I heard there were pretty dramatic economic problems there,” Matt said.
“There are. But if you have money, it’s a great place to live. It would just suck to have to try to earn a living or run a business.”
“Ah. Which you don’t have to do.”
“Exactly.”
“And is it safe?”
“Depends on where. Mendoza is incredible, from what I’ve seen, and seems extremely quiet. Maybe not Buenos Aires – there’s a lot of poverty, and it’s a massive city. I suppose that’s more like asking if New York or Paris is safe – it would depend on what part.”
The ride to the motel was short, the evening traffic light, and they sat side by side in silence, tired after the cross-country jaunt. When they arrived, Matt walked Jet to her room and then hesitated. Jet stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, her full lips soft and yielding, and the moment stretched into a minute before they pulled apart.
“Good night, Matt. Sleep well,” she said, and then unlocked her door.
He wasn’t going to press the point. There was no rush, and it wasn’t the right time. “You too. See you bright and early.”
Jet listened to the sound of his footsteps echo off the walkway, and then his door closed with a finality that made a small part of her sad. She moved to the dresser and slipped out of her clothes, changing into an oversized T-shirt, and then padded to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She felt exhausted, the hours, meal and the drink all seeming to hit at once, and minutes later she was on the bed, the lights out, the only sound the muted purr of the air conditioner and the distant rumble of traffic on the freeway.
Chapter 10
Jet awoke with a start, something in the room’s atmosphere different, triggering an unconscious alarm. Her pulse rocketed as she sensed a presence by the door – she wasn’t alone. A soft scrape sounded from near the window, and she threw herself at the barely discernible shape of the intruder, hearing him grunt with surprise as she went from being fast asleep to an attacking wildcat in under a second.
A muffled cry met her elbow’s connecting with a face, and she was rewarded by a gush of warm blood from his crushed nose. She was just about to follow the strike up with another using the heel of her hand – a fatal blow – when her entire body went into convulsions and her legs buckled, her limbs refusing to obey the commands her brain was sending.
She hit the carpeted floor and her vision dimmed, the room’s darkness replaced by a starburst of exploding synapses, and then the lamp on the night table next to the bed illuminated as sensation returned slowly to her body. A man wearing dark slacks and a black windbreaker leaned against the wall by the window holding his face, blood streaming down his arm from his brutalized nose, and another stood by the side of the bed, a stun gun in his hand.
“Don’t try anything, or I’ll shock you again,” the man with the stun gun said.
Panic greeted his warning, and it took a moment in her disoriented state to register why his words caused such a strong reaction. He regarded her, lying on the floor, and nodded as understanding registered on her face.
“Okay, you can get up, but don’t attack us. We’re not here to hurt you,” he assured her, taking in her expression as she groped for support from the side of the bed, trying to move.
Jet slowly got to her feet and stood, legs apart, defiant, glaring at her assailants.
“Why is the Mossad sending agents to break into my room?” she asked, hating the tremor in her voice and the sudden wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. The Hebrew sounded thick on her tongue, the words fuzzy and unfamiliar.
“Ah, good – you know who we are. The answer is very simple. Someone needs to talk to you. Somebody important.”
Jet glanced at the agent whose nose she’d broken. “Get a towel from the bathroom. Put pressure on it and hold your head back. You know the routine,” she said, her voice sounding stronger to her own ears as she recovered from the jolt. She returned her attention to the other agent as she pulled the stun gun barb from her shirt and tossed it onto the bed. “You could have knocked.”
He smiled humorlessly and secured the weapon, then walked over to the small circular table by the television and took a seat. “I’m sure you would have answered. Knock knock. Who’s there? Yes, I can see that playing out well.” He gestured to her, inviting her to join him, but she sat on the edge of the bed instead.
“So you’re here. I’m listening. What do you want?”
The other man returned from the bathroom and stood in the doorway with a towel pressed against his face, his head back.
“I have a phone in my pocket. My orders are to get your attention and then place a call. I would say we have your attention, no?”
“You’re partner is lucky he’s still alive,” she said, her tone flat.
“Yes, well, probably. But that’s neither here nor there,” he replied, reaching into his coat and extracting a cell phone. He jabbed at one of the speed dial digits and then, after listening for a moment, handed it to her. She leaned forward and snatched it from him, eyeing him warily, and then listened as a deep male voice spoke.
“I trust they didn’t hurt you?” it asked in Hebrew.
“I think they got the worst of it.”
“Hmm. I have no doubt.” The voice paused, hesitating. “Do I need to tell you who this is?”
“Let’s make it official, shall we?”
“Very well. This is the director.”
“What do you want?”
“A good question from the start. I have a situation, and I require an operative with your unique skill set.”
“Run a classified ad. I don’t work for you anymore.”
“Yes, that’s right. You’re dead. It’s hard to keep that straight sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t have reached out to you if it wasn’t a dire situation. If there was anyone else…well, with Rain dead, I’m afraid I don’t have anyone left who possesses your level of expertise. He was the last of the select few. I’m sorry, by the way. I was told that you were with him.”
“You know about…about that?”
“You’ll find I know about most things, young lady.”
“How?” The word was like a slap.
“I have eyes everywhere.”
“Then you know that I’m out of the game, forever, and…disappearing,” she said softly. “Again.”
“I wish I could allow you to do that. Believe me. But I’m afraid it’s not that simple. As I said, there’s a situation…”
“And as I said, I no longer work for you.”
“May I remind you of the oath you took?” The director’s voice hardened.
“I remember it. But you got your money’s worth, and then some. We’re even.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It is with me.”
The director sighed, sounding tired, and tried a different approach. “Have you seen the news?”
“What? No. Why?”
“If you watch it, you’ll see that the biggest breaking story right now is the detonation of a nuclear device in Somalia. It happened yesterday.”
“A nuke? Somalia? Why? What’s in Somalia, and why do you care? And why should I?”
“That, my dear, is a long story. The short version is that I believe it’s only one of a pair of devices. The second one is still out there.”
Jet took a few moments to process that. “Fair enough. But why do
you care about an explosion in Africa?”
“Now we’re at the essence of why I need your help. If I’m correct, that was a test. To verify that the devices still worked. It’s not like you can just set off a nuke these days and say, ‘excuse me, my bad.’ I believe that test confirmed viability, and that the second one will be used sooner rather than later. And not on a remote stretch of coastline nobody cares about.”
She nodded as the scenario sank in. “You think that they intend to use it…in Israel?”
Jet could hear the director’s heavy breathing as he formulated his response.
“It’s more complicated than that.” And then he told her a story. He went on for five minutes, without interruption, and when he spoke the final words, her entire world had shifted.
Both Jet and the director sat silently for a few moments, the faint buzz of static on the encrypted line hanging like the pause before a guilty verdict.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.
“Isn’t it obvious? You need to find them and stop this.”
Her eyes darted to the man sitting at the table, who was studiously examining his nails, doing his best to appear deaf and dumb.
“And if I refuse?”
“There are some things you cannot refuse, my dear. As you know, by this point in your life.”
“What’s your proposal?”
“You help me, and I forget you exist. You go on to lead whatever life you were hoping to, and we’re even.”
“What if I say no and then kill your men, and then disappear forever?”
“Do you really believe that would be possible now? I know you’re alive. I discovered it only a short while ago, when we began surveillance of Rain in Washington. It took a while for us to place the face – there are no records to speak of. But some of us have long memories. Still, I shared your opinion – you’d done enough, paid your dues. Then Rain was killed, and this situation developed. It forced my hand. I have no other option.”
“You could send someone else.”
“Like the two you see there? Please – don’t waste my time. The team no longer exists. I don’t have access to resources like that at present – it would take years to rebuild it, to train, to find candidates that can successfully graduate and survive their trials by fire. My problem is time. I don’t have any. And I need to solve this problem now, or it will mean the end of the world as we know it. Was I unclear on the stakes?” the director growled, his voice an ominous rumble. “Do you not understand what will happen if this isn’t stopped?”
“How did you find me?” she asked quietly.
“A tracker on the car. We had trackers on yours and Rain’s, and when this man met with you at your hotel, we tagged his as well.”
“How did you find Ala – Rain?”
“He called from an internet phone. That left an IP address we could trace. From there, we were able to track his identification – I’m sure he believed that not all of his IDs were known to us, but he was wrong. Again, there is very little I don’t know.”
“If that’s the case, then where are the…where are the men who are causing you this problem?”
“Ah, another good question. We have suspicions, but nothing concrete. I’m working on that as we speak. Look, let’s not play any longer. I need you to do one last mission. For the sake of your country. For the innocents who will be slaughtered in the war to follow if this device is detonated as I believe it will be. You can name your price. I don’t really care at this point. But I cannot accept a no.”
Jet thought about his words, and then sighed to herself. “There is no cost beyond my freedom at the end of the mission. You will forget I ever existed, and our business will be concluded. That’s the price. No exceptions. But I don’t need to tell you that if you’re even half right, there’s no guarantee of success, and you’ll need to provide a full support group for logistics and surveillance.” She let that sink in, then shifted on the bed and looked over at the standing man, his nose now clotted. She raised an eyebrow and got up, went to the TV, and tuned to a news channel. After muting the volume, she moved to the dresser, pulled on a pair of sweat pants, and returned to her position on the bed, lifting the cell to her ear like it was radioactive.
“So what’s your plan?”
Chapter 11
When Matt knocked on Jet’s motel room door the following morning, bearing two cups of coffee on a makeshift tray with a bag of fast-food croissants, he was immediately struck with a sense of unease when she opened it, wordlessly standing back for him to enter, and then turned to continue what she was doing inside.
“Good morning, sunshine. Are you ready to hit the road?” he asked, setting the food and coffee on the table and taking a seat.
“Yes and no. Have you seen the news?” she asked as she packed the last of her things into her bag.
“No. Why? Are we on there?”
“No, but…I had visitors last night.”
“Visitors?”
“Yes. In the middle of the night. Former colleagues of mine.” She went on to tell him the story.
“I…I’m really not sure what to say. Obviously we need to switch cars…”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’ve…I’ve given the situation a lot of thought. They wouldn’t have tracked me down if they weren’t in a bind.”
“So they’re in a bind. It happens.”
She finished packing and fixed him with a frank gaze. “I’ve got to do this, Matt. I don’t have any choice. They really need my help, and time’s running out even as we sit here.” She moved to the table and sat across from him, then pried off the plastic lid from the coffee and took a long, appreciative sip.
“You don’t have to do this at all. You can walk away. They can’t force you.” Matt’s tone was strained.
“Well, that’s debatable.”
“I think you need to take some deep breaths and think this through.”
Jet looked around the room before sitting in the chair across from Matt. She took his hands in hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze.
“Matt, I spent most of my adult life in the service. This is the biggest threat I’ve ever heard of. They’ve come to me looking for help, and I can’t just say no. Frankly, based on how it was described, they may be right that I’m their best chance of stopping it in time.” She saw the look in his eyes and shook her head. “I can see your brain churning away at this. Don’t. It’s a mission, I’ve accepted it, and that’s that. It’s not your concern.” She stood and went to her bag. “So come on. Time to move. Getting out of the country is still the same issue. Once we’re in Mexico, I’ll have more options. We both will…”
Matt stood, obviously struggling with an internal debate, then grabbed the croissants and his coffee. “I suppose there’s no point in arguing, is there?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“Do you need any help with the bag?”
“No, I’m good. Let’s get going. I have a feeling it’s going to be a really long day.”
Matt turned in their room keys at the office and returned to stow her carry-on in the back of the Explorer next to his. In a few minutes they were motoring along Highway Ten on the way to the intersection that would take them south to Nogales and then into Mexico. Neither spoke as the endless procession of malls and industrial buildings flashed by. Matt finally broke the uncomfortable silence.
“So where are we going?” he asked, his voice normal again as he kept his eyes on the road.
“Mexico. We’ll hop a flight to Mexico City, and split up from there.”
“Split up? Whoa. I thought we were sticking together.”
“That was before. And we will stick together. Just not until I go keep the Middle East safe for another generation. Or at least safer.” Jet studied his profile, his jaw muscles clenching. “Matt, I need to do this alone.”
“No, you want to do it alone. There’s no reason I couldn’t help you.”
“I…I appreciate it. I really do. But there are a million reasons you can’t help.”
“Try me. Remember I’ve got at least a decade, maybe more, of operational experience on you.”
She appraised him, her expression neutral. “Oh, right. I keep forgetting what a hard ass you are. Okay, let’s start with some obvious questions. Do you speak Hebrew?”
He hesitated. “No.”
“How about Arabic?”
“Not that, either. But I speak a mean Thai, and some of the regional dialects…”
“Which is all good for the area of the world you were in. But it wouldn’t do squat where I’ve got to go. Matt, you no speakee, and you’re a poster boy for white guys. Is why this isn’t a great idea starting to sink in? Why you’d be more of a liability than an asset?” She deliberately softened her tone so the message wouldn’t seem as harsh, but she needn’t have bothered. The words had the effect of a slap.
“That’s it? That’s your whole pitch? You’re going to try to confuse me with facts and logic? What the hell kind of strategy is that?”
“Look, this isn’t a dig against you, and it’s not a reflection of your tradecraft or your skills. But this is a different operating theater. This is my back yard. You would stick out like a sore thumb, and I can’t afford that. Besides which, I honestly work better alone. It seems like whenever I have a partner–”
“They wind up dead,” Matt finished for her.
“It’s true. First David on the Grigenko incursion, then Rob in Thailand, and finally, Alan. I don’t like my recent track record, and frankly, I’d rather not lose the only man in my life,” she concluded in a quiet voice, almost inaudible over the road noise.
“You’re trying to protect me? Me? A guy who spent forever living in the wilds of one of the most dangerous places on the planet? You need to shield me from danger?”
JET V - Legacy Page 7
