Honorable Lies (A Titus Black Thriller Book 6)

by R. J. Patterson

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Shields said. “Conjecture is what makes this stuff more interesting to me.”

  “If you don’t have fun taking down Zahid tonight, you might want to check your pulse,” Black said. “This is going to be one wild ride.”

  “I prefer this evening be rather uneventful,” she said. “Can we aim for that?”

  Black shook his head as he dug into his rucksack. He fished out a few more devices and set them on the table.

  “We’re going to do all we can,” Black said, “but you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment if you think he’s going to willingly give us the information we need to know without putting up a real fight. We have to go in with the realization that there’s no way he says a peep about that operation … unless we make him.”

  “In that case, can we just not make it so complicated?”

  “Don’t underestimate my methods just yet,” Blunt said, wagging his finger. “A dash of simple fear might do the trick.”

  “Wanna bet a twenty on that?”

  Black nodded. “You’re on.”

  * * *

  AT PRECISELY nine-thirty that evening, Black entered the doors of The Madhatter, the quaint cafe he and Shields had scoped out earlier. The protocol they set up for verifying each other was simple, almost imperceptible to even the trained eye. But it was effective, which was all that mattered to Black.

  In one corner of the room, elderly men crowded around a chess table affixed to a wooden barrel. While precedent for such matches required a quiet place, this was the opposite. Spectators cheered or groaned with every play, while discussing openly what was a better move. The departure from chess decorum shocked Black.

  “Are these games always this loud?” Black asked the haggard waiter, who was balancing five drinks on a tray.

  The man cut his eyes toward the sign etched out of wood dangling over the bar. “This is The Madhatter. What’s up is down and what’s down is up in this place.”

  Black responded with a polite smile to the man who promised to return shortly. Once the waiter scurried off, Black removed his gray fedora and set it on the table. He nudged it toward the edge with his knuckles until the brim hung over the side by a few inches.

  “How are you doing out there?” Black asked through clenched teeth over the coms.

  “I’m hangin’ in there like a hair in a biscuit,” Shields said over the coms. She was watching the whole scene unfold on a computer monitor in a van two blocks away.

  “That good, huh?”

  “I’ve decided this van can’t be more than a couple of degrees warmer than the freezing air outside. I can barely type.”

  A couple of minutes later, the waiter hustled over to Black and took his order, an Americano.

  After he received his drink, Black spent the next fifteen minutes watching both the rowdy game of chess and the door. Zahid was late, though Black wasn’t surprised. As cautious as the Alsheri operative had been, he’d likely staked out the cafe to ensure that the meeting wasn’t a trap. Eventually, he strode through the door and headed straight to Black’s table.

  Black made eye contact with Zahid before gesturing for him to have a seat.

  “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Clark,” Zahid said. “Victor speaks quite highly of you.”

  “And you as well,” Black said in his South African accent that was more than adequate. “Consider me an admirer of your work, such as it is. What I saw in the Bahamas was exquisite.”

  Zahid leaned forward as a scowl spread across his forehead. “Mr. Clark, please. This is not the time or place to discuss such matters, regardless of your admiration for what I do.”

  Black placed his hands in the air, signaling his regret. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I rarely conduct these types of meetings in public like this.”

  “The first time is always in public,” Zahid said. “I must know if I can trust you or not.”

  “And?”

  Zahid leaned back, stroking his beard while eyeing Black. “We shall soon see.”

  “I hope you make your decision soon. I have a long list of buyers and I can’t wait around long with something like this.”

  Zahid’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he did not respond to Black’s statement. “So, Victor told me that you’re quite the impressionist.”

  Black heard Shields snicker in his ear piece. He didn’t flinch, even though he knew he was getting tested. He had two options: wing it or dispute the statement. Black could hold his own with impersonations, but he considered Zahid’s challenge to be a test.

  “Victor must’ve gotten me mixed up with someone else,” Black said. “I’m not much on impressions.”

  “I see,” Zahid said, eyeing Black carefully.

  Black wondered if he’d given the wrong answer and tried to change the subject as casually as possible. “So, do you support any teams in the English Premier League?”

  “Liverpool, of course,” Zahid said with a smile. “Salah is a magician with the ball.”

  “There’s no denying that.”

  Zahid glanced around the room before returning his gaze to Black. “Let’s continue this elsewhere. I think we can conduct business together, and I’ve arranged transportation so we can talk in a more secure environment.”

  Black nodded confidently. “As you wish.”

  He remained calm, but was taken aback by the upheaval. Black had met with terrorists in the past, each time in public for vetting purposes before transitioning to private meetings. But Zahid had deviated from the norm, and Black grew uneasy about the situation. Usually, the initial meeting resulted in a later meeting. The sudden transition was jarring.

  Zahid led Black out the door that exited into the alleyway behind the cafe. Black followed Zahid to an idling black SUV parked by the curb. A muscular man dressed in a suit blocked the door.

  “Omar will check you for weapons first,” Zahid said.

  “Is this necessary?” Black asked.

  Omar didn’t wait for Zahid to answer, running his fingers along the contours of Black’s frame. The bodyguard didn’t need long to locate Black’s ankle holster before quickly removing it and handing it to Zahid.

  “Mr. Clark, why would you need this to meet with me?” Zahid asked as he removed the weapon from the holster. “Were you concerned I’d do something to you?”

  Black steadied his breathing, trying to remain calm as two more burly men crowded near him. “It’s a dangerous world out there. When you have the reputation that I do, you make a lot of enemies.”

  “Yet, I’ve never heard of any,” Zahid said.

  Black was still looking at the terrorist when he absorbed a wicked punch to the side of his face before collapsing to the ground.

  Chapter 8

  Atlantic Ocean

  Off the coast of Florida

  KENNETH PARKER DREW his shoulder near his mouth so he could wipe away the blood oozing from his lips. The bald man standing in front of him wore a white tank top. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he studied Parker.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way,” the man said. “You can just tell me what you were doing at the harbor yesterday and I’ll be on my way.”

  Parker huffed a soft laugh through his nose before shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way you’re going to let me walk out of here. So, there’s little need for me to tell you anything.”

  His captor considered the statement for a moment and then sighed. “Suppose there’s a way I can guarantee you that this actually happens. I know you’ve got an attractive wife back in Virginia. Let’s not make a widow out of her just yet if we don’t have to, okay?”

  Parker’s face throbbed from the series of hits he’d just endured from the man, who answered his partner when she called him Naja. The woman, who went by Fazilah, rolled her eyes.

  “Let me just dump him into the water,” she said. “I’ll shoot him in the arm and let the sharks finish him off.”

  Naj
a glared at her. “Not until he tells us everything we need to know.”

  Fazilah huffed as she stormed out of the room, clearly unhappy with her colleague’s decision to prolong the interrogation. Parker mustered a faint smile for two reasons. First, he bettered his odds. Second, Naja would get annoyed and maybe take another run at Parker. And that’s what he wanted. An altercation was the only way Parker had a chance to survive, which included getting his hands on the cell phone Naja had tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Parker used the confrontation between his two captors against Naja. “You think I’m going to tell you a damn thing? Better dream on, brother. You couldn’t beat a phone number out of me, much less classified information.”

  “I’m not looking for classified information, Agent Parker,” Naja said with a sneer. “I just want to know what you were doing at the docks in Freeport.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s classified?”

  Naja’s nostrils flared as he drew back. Parker braced for the hit, and Naja didn’t disappoint. The brute recoiled and took a wild swing at Parker’s jaw. He leaned back, resulting in only a glancing blow. However, the sudden move to avoid a direct hit put Parker’s chair off balance as it teetered backward. Naja kicked one of the front legs, putting Parker on his back. However, in the midst of the fray, Parker’s bindings loosened.

  Parker felt the slack in the ropes around his leg and worked to free himself. Naja knelt down next to Parker and delivered two more body blows, unaware of Parker’s effort to shake off the rope.

  Naja drew back and then narrowed his eyes. “Now, I’m only going to ask once more. What were you doing at the docks?”

  Parker felt the rope slide off his right leg. “I can’t—” he said in a whisper. “My voice is gone.”

  Naja snarled, then leaned in closer to Parker but maintained a distance to avoid a head butt. “You ready to talk now?”

  Parker nodded. He acted as if he was about to speak before mustering up as much strength as he could to deliver a kick to Naja’s crotch. The terrorist wailed in pain, instinctively grabbing the area Parker drilled with his foot. Parker scrambled to his feet and bull rushed Naja, slamming him into the wall. His head whipped backward and hit it squarely, knocking him out.

  Parker bashed the chair on the floor, releasing his hands. He heard heavy footfalls approaching and realized time was scarce. He snapped a photo of Naja and texted it to Blunt along with a short message.

  Aboard fishing vessel in the Atlantic. Terrorists have detained me. Require immediate assistance. Re-read the real report I sent you.

  Parker then deleted the message and blocked Blunt’s phone. The agent didn’t want Naja or anyone else knowing that they were in danger of getting caught. After Parker finished, he stuffed Naja’s phone back into his pocket and prepared for a fight. He grabbed the back of his chair and drew it behind his head, ready for a fight. When the door flung open, he was met by three men, all wielding weapons.

  Fazilah pushed her way through them and looked Parker up and down. “I appreciate your help, gentlemen, but I think I can handle him myself.”

  * * *

  J.D. BLUNT stared at his phone in disbelief.

  “Sonofabitch,” Blunt said aloud. “Parker wasn’t just being paranoid after all.”

  Blunt called Brady Hawk and Alex, two of his other agents who’d just successfully completed another mission a day earlier.

  “I know you’re probably all snuggled up on the couch watching a Bollywood film, but I need you and Alex to help out in an emergency problem.”

  “Of course,” Hawk said. “What’s going on?”

  “I hate to do this to you, but I need you to go back into the field this afternoon.”

  Hawk sighed. “And where exactly do you need us to go?”

  “The Bahamas,” Blunt said.

  “What did you say?” Hawk asked, incredulous.

  “I need you to go to the Bahamas. There’s a CIA agent in trouble and he needs our help.”

  “I’m willing to make such a sacrifice for our country,” Hawk said.

  Blunt wasn’t amused. “This is serious, Hawk. Kenneth Parker is a longtime friend of mine, a young man very much like yourself who cares very much about this country. And I won’t abandon him now.”

  “Roger that,” Hawk said, turning more somber. “Grabbing our go-bags and heading to the airport now.”

  * * *

  THE SUN HAD NEARLY sunk beneath the horizon when Hawk and Alex arrived in Freeport. They hustled through customs and called Mallory Kauffman, an analyst at the NSA.

  “What do you have for us, Mallory?” Hawk asked.

  “Blunt had me triangulate the position of Parker’s cell phone call and it wasn’t that far off the coast,” she said.

  “Can you tell me where the phone is now?” he asked.

  “It appears to be turned off or outside.”

  “Or could they have gone back out to sea and be out of range?”

  “Not likely. I pulled satellite footage from the area and synced it up with the time of Parker’s text. It was partly cloudy most of the day, so I was able to track the ship for a while. It appeared to be headed back to the harbor before the cloud coverage prevented me from pinpointing its exact location.”

  “So, you think it’s probably docked somewhere in the harbor?” he asked.

  “I’m certain it is,” she said. “I zoomed in on the boat and got the name. It’s called Free Spirit and it’s registered to a rental company in Freeport. I spoke with the owner a half hour ago and he confirmed that it’s been returned. I’m texting you the address now.”

  “Thanks, Mallory,” Hawk said.

  Hawk relayed the conversation to Alex as they hustled to their rental car.

  “They’re probably long gone by now,” Alex said.

  “I don’t doubt that, but at least we’ll be able to get a lead on whoever has Parker.”

  When they pulled up to the harbor, they saw flashing police lights. Several cars were parked haphazardly near the docks.

  Alex looked at Hawk. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “That makes two of us,” Hawk said.

  As they got out, they approached a police officer who was standing guard outside of a string of yellow tape.

  Hawk flashed his credentials. “We’re conducting an investigation into a missing U.S. person. He was on a rented boat earlier today that was docked here.”

  “We heard you might be coming to investigate,” the man said as he lifted the tape and nodded in the direction of a cluster of officers. “They’re over there.”

  Hawk thanked the man and held the tape up for Alex. As they strode toward the group, one of the men stepped toward them.

  Hawk and Alex displayed their credentials to the man. He glanced at them as he drew near and then offered his hand.

  “Kai Knowles, deputy director of the Royal Bahamas Police Force,” he said. “Ambassador Travis informed us that the agency may send someone down here to investigate. But we had no idea it’d be this quickly.”

  “We weren’t coming to investigate anything,” Hawk said. “We were responding to a distress signal from one of our agents.”

  “If he was in trouble, you should’ve reached out. It’s possible that we could’ve helped you,” Knowles said.

  “There wasn’t much you could do when we first learned about it,” Alex said. “The kidnappers were in international waters. We only tracked the cell phone to this location since we landed.”

  “Well, it’s not a pretty sight,” Knowles said, gesturing for the two agents to follow him. “The nature of his death appears to be quite violent. Our best people will be working on this and should have a coroner’s report within twenty-four hours. But it’s probably best that you confirm that he’s your man before we get too far down the road.”

  “Of course,” Hawk said.

  They stopped and stared at the scene before them. One man wearing a white lab coat knel
t next to the lifeless body lying face down on the dock. Water pooled all around the corpse, as did blood near his head.

  “Looks fresh,” Hawk said.

  The doctor examining the victim looked up at Hawk and nodded. “If I had to guess, I’d say he was killed within the two hours. Someone found him floating in the water and fished him out because they thought he might still be alive. So, there’s no telling how this person might’ve been contaminated by that, but your assessment appears to be spot on.”

  Hawk turned to Knowles. “I’d like to see all the security footage you can possibly wrangle from all these nearby businesses. The quicker we move, the more chance we might have of tracking the attackers down.”

  Knowles winced. “I’m sorry, Agent Hawk, but this harbor isn’t exactly like ones in the United States. These areas aren’t nearly as secure as you might think. Those cameras are a luxury and not the kind you’d find on a dock like this.”

  Hawk scowled as he surveyed the area.

  “See any yachts here?” Knowles asked.

  Black slowly shook his head, understanding Knowles’s insinuation.

  “No yachts, no cameras,” Knowles said. “Thieves here don’t waste their time on a fleet of rental boats that don’t fetch much on the resale market. There are far better targets.”

  “I see,” Hawk said.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Knowles said, “I need to deal with another issue. Any of my officers here will be more than happy to assist you.”

  Hawk watched Knowles walk off, but not before he stopped and spoke with a few of his men, directing them to attend to Hawk and Alex’s requests.

  “You need to call Blunt,” Alex said.

  Hawk sighed. “He’s not gonna like this, but at least it confirms one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Alex asked.

  “Kenneth Parker wasn’t as crazy as Blunt might’ve thought,” Hawk said, glancing down at the body. “This poor guy was definitely onto something, the kind of something that cost him his life.”

  Chapter 9

  Punta Cana, Dominican Republic