Gates of Dawn (A Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series Book 12)

by Trevor Scott

“I hear you got your son back,” Jenkins said.

  Jake wasn’t sure how the former director was so well informed. It was a little scary. But he also knew that Jenkins had probably been the one who sent General Graves to convince Jake to go on this mission. “You heard right.” Jake looked at Karl and lifted his chin.

  “Nice work.”

  “Hey, somebody had to do it. Your government is stuck with their collective heads up their asses.”

  “I’m out of the government, remember?”

  “Same here. But you keep pulling me back in.” Jake noticed a car coming down the road from the direction of Narva. He pulled out his Glock and handed it to Karl. “Make sure it’s them and don’t kill anybody.”

  Karl took the gun and headed up the embankment.

  “What was that?” Jenkins asked.

  “Karl. Verifying our ride.”

  “You can call him your son.”

  “I take it this isn’t a social call,” Jake said, ignoring his old friend.

  Jenkins sighed on the other end and then Jake heard his phone beep because of the low battery. Finally, Jenkins said, “We need you in Riga.”

  “Latvia?”

  “Last I heard.”

  Smart ass. “Why Riga?”

  “We think the Russians are using Estonia as a chess move.”

  Jake looked up the embankment and saw that the Estonian intelligence officers had stopped and Karl was hugging Kadri longer than normal. Then he pulled away and shook Hans Vaino’s hand.

  “What kind of move?” Jake asked.

  “The kind where you move a bishop out and tempt your opponent to take it. Then when they do, they leave their queen open.”

  Jake had considered the moves the Russians had made in the past few months, and none of it seemed to make a lot of sense. “Where’s the queen? Certainly not Riga.”

  “The entire Baltics are vulnerable, Jake.”

  He ran the map of the region through his mind and knew the strength of the military for each of the three Baltic States. Collectively they were no match for the Russian army. “They have NATO protection,” Jake reminded the former CIA director.

  “Would you trust your life on that?”

  Good point. “What can I possibly do in Riga?”

  “Something is going on there that I can’t discuss on an unsecure line.”

  Jake’s phone was encrypted to a higher level than those at the State Department—perhaps even the Agency phones. Jenkins knew this. No, his old friend was holding back on him. “What’s the deal, Kurt?”

  Jenkins cleared his throat. Then he said, “Lithuania is the real target.”

  Now that made sense to Jake. “Russia is trying to pull off a traditional pincer movement. They’ll be moving heavy armor and tanks around through Belarus, cutting through the southern border of Lithuania to cut it off from Poland. Then they can come in from the sea and from Kaliningrad on the west. Once they’ve isolated the Baltics, they can push in from the east through their own territory into Estonia, and through Belarus to Lithuania.”

  “How do you know this? That’s the Agency assessment.”

  Jake glanced back up the embankment at his son, who was still talking with the two Estonian officers. Then he said to Jenkins, “What exactly do you want me to do in Riga?”

  “An Agency asset requested to speak with you. And only you.”

  Great. An Agency asset generally meant someone on the edge of society playing both sides. Double agents were not very reliable. It was probably an actual Russian.

  “So, I know the guy,” Jake said.

  “Afraid so. A guy named Ivan Bragin.”

  Shit! That was a name from his past. Bragin was a former KGB officer during the last days of the Soviet Union. They had encountered each other during the crumbling of the Berlin Wall. Bragin was trying to keep control over the East German Stasi, and Jake was trying to exploit those same officers, making sure they didn’t completely destroy all records on their way to cozy villas in South America.

  Jake glanced up at his son again, realizing that Karl was probably born around that same time.

  Before Jake’s phone died, he got the meeting time and place. Then he trudged up the hill to his rental car, accepting the keys from Kadri.

  “Did you leave those Russian bastards any dignity?” Jake asked her.

  She smiled. “Perhaps a little. What happens now?”

  “Now, Karl goes back to his unit and I go back home,” he lied. “We’ll drop you off in Tallinn.”

  The senior officer, Hans Vaino, moved in closer and said, “The Russians are making a move, Jake. They want this country back under their control.”

  “I know.”

  Karl, who seemed much better now, said, “He’s right, Jake.”

  “I said, I know. But I’m just one guy. What can I do?”

  Nobody had an answer for him.

  Jake continued, “But we need to get the hell out of Narva right now. These Russians are getting brash.”

  The four of them piled into Jake’s rental Skoda—Jake driving, Hans in the front passenger seat, and Karl in the back with Kadri. As Jake suspected, something was up with the two of them. His mind drifted to his past, when he first met Toni Contardo, Karl’s mother. They probably had similar expressions on their faces at the time.

  For a moment he glanced at the Estonian man to his right, the man whom he had called the stork in his mind since they first met. Damn it. Now that he got to know the man, he’d have to call him Hans.

  Before leaving Narva, though, he needed to get his son something to eat at a fast food drive through.

  13

  Jake was able to charge his phone during the two-hour drive back to Tallinn. His son and Kadri spoke constantly in the back seat, starting with his account of the Russians taking him captive, through his endurance of the elements and eating of bugs in the Russian bogs, and then to his encounter with Jake and their escape. Other than the one time when Karl had almost called him dad in front of the Estonians, he had maintained their cover quite well. He had a nice way of telling a story.

  Hans Vaino couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the younger officers. Jake wasn’t sure if he was jealous or simply curious. Perhaps a little of both. So Jake had kept the man busy by asking him questions requiring an explanation. Jake wanted to know about the man’s theory on the intentions of the Russians.

  “You think the SVR is trying to scoop up your officers to hold as pawns?” Jake asked Hans.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How many officers has your agency dedicated to the Russian border towns?”

  “That’s classified,” Hans said.

  “I understand. But what if they’re doing this as a ploy to simply occupy and overwhelm KAPO.” Jake turned to look at his Estonian counterpart.

  “You make a good point, Jake,” Hans agreed. “I will bring this up to our general director in the morning.”

  “It’s just a theory,” Jake said.

  “Of course. But a good one.”

  Shortly, Jake dropped the two KAPO officers at their car at the cruise terminal and said their goodbyes. It was always a bittersweet time working with intelligence officers from other countries. Jake had more in common with them than most average citizens of his own country. He noticed that Karl and Kadri hugged instead of shaking hands.

  Now, once back in the Skoda and on the road again, Karl in the front passenger seat, Jake turned to his son and saw angst on his face.

  “You like her,” Jake said.

  “You caught that,” Karl said.

  “A blind man could have picked up on the connection you two have.”

  They drove in silence back toward the international airport. Jake hoped the terminal would still be open.

  “Yeah, well that’s a problem. I have to go back to my work with the Army.”

  Jake shook his head. “Have you figured out what you plan on doing after your service?”

  “My original commitment is up,” Ka
rl said. “So I can resign at any time.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  “Oh, so now you want to be my dad?”

  “Listen, punk,” Jake said with a smirk. “I just bailed your ass out of Russia.”

  Karl swore under his breath. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Never say you’re sorry, Karl. You can admit when you screwed up, but saying you’re sorry shows weakness.”

  “So, you’re not sorry about not marrying my mother?”

  Damn it. The kid had a point. “I have many regrets, Karl. Not marrying your mother is not one of them. There’s no doubt that we loved each other, but we both had obligations we were not willing to compromise. In retrospect, that was probably a mistake. But your mother made a choice that didn’t include input from me.”

  “What would you have done?” Karl hesitated. “You know, if you had known about me.”

  That was a loaded question. “I honestly don’t know. I would hope that we could have worked out some arrangement. But I’m still pissed that she didn’t tell me.”

  “Maybe I’m not even your son.”

  “Now you’re just being a dick. Your mom knew the truth. I was the only one with her at that time. Besides, I found out she verified paternity with my Agency DNA exemplar.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that they had DNA tests back in the stone age.”

  Jake saw his son hold back a smile. He shook his head and said, “They didn’t. Just like now, they had our blood and our prints. Both of those would be flagged if anyone tried to run them. Any search would come up empty. Of course now they do the same with DNA and facial recognition. My guess is that your mom collected my DNA within a couple of years before her death. We continued to work together on occasion over the years.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  “Son, I never stopped loving your mother.”

  He drove into the airport frontage road, which looked like it might be closed.

  “When’s the last flight come and go from Tallinn?” Jake asked as he pulled his car into the rental return area.

  “They have twenty-four-hour operation,” Karl said. “But the last real flight comes in about zero one hundred, and the first departure is zero five hundred.”

  “What about military and private jets?”

  “The tower and ATC run twenty-four seven. Why?”

  “I’ve gotta run.”

  “Run where? You can’t at least stay the night?”

  “Afraid not.”

  Jake unplugged his phone and quickly called the Air Force colonel who ran the drone program. Colonel Poole. He should have done so sooner, but he didn’t want to make the call in front of the Estonian officers.

  The colonel answered immediately and said he had heard that Jake’s mission had been successful.

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “In and out and nobody got hurt.” As far as he knew.

  “Is Captain Adams with you?” the colonel asked.

  Jake looked at his son. “Yes, he is.”

  “Outstanding,” the colonel said. “The Army will want to debrief him.”

  “He’s on loan through the Agency to the Estonians. The Agency will want first crack.”

  “I’ve got orders to bring him to his commander,” the colonel said with as much authority as he thought he could get away with to Jake.

  Jake hung up. He looked at his son and said, “Have you ever flown on a private jet?”

  “No. Why?”

  Luckily, Jake had texted his request for the Spanish billionaire’s jet before leaving Narva. It would be waiting for him on the tarmac.

  “What are your orders?” Jake asked.

  “I was on loan from the Army to the Agency station chief. The Tallinn position is open, so a guy in Riga is handling the entire Baltics.”

  “On loan until?”

  “Until further notice.”

  Jake considered having Karl call the station chief and verify his orders, but then he had a better idea.

  “Come on,” Jake said.

  He grabbed his small bag from the trunk of the rental car, and then they hiked it from the commercial terminal area to the private terminal. As he suspected, Jake could see the jet owned by Carlos Gomez sitting just out from the small terminal waiting for him. He was getting way too used to this treatment.

  Jake introduced the pilot and flight attendant to his son. Then before they took off, Jake and Karl stripped down and changed into clothes from Jake’s bag. Their clothes had gone from nearly soaking wet to a smelly damp, like a wet dog.

  “It’s a good thing we’re about the same size,” Karl said. “Although I think I’ll need to cinch up the waist a bit.”

  “Smart ass. I buy them bigger so I can conceal a handgun inside the waistband.”

  “But you’ve got the underarm holster now,” Karl said.

  “Right. But you can’t always use that. Especially in hot weather.”

  Once they got changed, the two of them sat in the plush swivel chairs. The flight attendant brought Jake a tall Nicaraguan rum—something they kept in stock since he asked about it months ago.

  She leaned in and whispered to Jake, “Your son is very handsome. So now I know what you looked like back in the day.”

  He laughed and turned to Karl. “What would you like? You are old enough to drink, right? If not, she can get you a soda pop.”

  Karl looked to the flight attendant. “Is he always an asshole?”

  She shrugged. “Only when he’s awake.”

  “What’s he drinking?” Karl asked.

  “Flor de Cana, twenty-five years old.”

  “Same as you, sonny,” Jake said, and then took a sip from the rum.

  “I’ll try that,” Karl said.

  Then she turned to Jake and asked, “Where should I tell the pilot to take us?”

  “Riga, Latvia.”

  She smiled and walked forward to the cockpit.

  Jake notice his son checking out her ass. “I thought you liked that Estonian officer, Kadri?”

  “I was just looking,” Karl said. “Perfection should be rewarded with acknowledgment. What’s in Riga?”

  “Most of the Baltic intelligence community. The Agency regional station chief can debrief you there.”

  The jet barely lifted off and Jake turned to view his son, who was already sound asleep. The flight attendant came over with a blanket, placed it over Karl, and took his empty drink glass.

  “Did you drug him?” the attendant asked Jake with a smile.

  “No, he’s had a few rough days. How long to Riga?”

  “About an hour,” she said. “Is there something you’d like?”

  He wasn’t sure how to take that. Perhaps back in the day he would have made some insinuating comment. Instead, he said, “When will Carlos Gomez need his jet again?”

  “He’s informed us to stay in the Baltics with you. We would have stayed in Tallinn with you, but Mister Gomez had us drop off some business associates in Vilnius.”

  “Does he do a lot of business in the Baltics?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is Carlos now?”

  “On his yacht somewhere between Palma and Malta.” She hesitated and studied him intently. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can get you?”

  Jake handed her his empty glass and said, “I guess I could use another rum.”

  She smiled and started to go.

  Jake stopped her by touching her arm. “You wouldn’t happen to have any 9mm rounds aboard.”

  “Critical defense rounds like last time?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll get you another box of fifty.”

  She came back with his rum, a sealed box of 9mm ammo, and a pair of latex gloves. She knew he used the gloves to load the rounds into the magazines so he wouldn’t leave his prints behind, even though the Agency still restricted access to his prints from any database.

  Once Jake filled his magazines and finished his r
um, he leaned back and watched his son sleep—something he had been denied while Karl grew up.

  The flight attendant came back and picked up Jake’s empty glass. “Mister Gomez wants to make sure you get everything you need. How else may I help you?”

  Now Jake ran his eyes across her beautiful Spanish body. There was no denying what she meant. But Jake had a gorgeous German girlfriend back in Italy seven months pregnant. But maybe there was something else she could do for him.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare 9mm handgun?” Jake asked.

  She turned her look of disappointment into a quick smile. Then she went away and came back with an aluminum briefcase, which she opened for Jake. Inside were a number of handguns, from Berettas to Walthers. Jake pulled out a Glock 17 identical to the one under his left arm. He dropped the magazine to see it was full with the same hollow points he had just put in his gun. Then he slid back the slide to see that there was one in the chamber. He found two extra full magazines and set them in his lap.

  “Registration?” Jake asked.

  “Carlos Gomez got these directly from the factory,” she said. “There is no registration.”

  “Outstanding. I will return it.”

  “Please don’t. It’s a gift.”

  Jake smiled and watched as she closed the case and walked away. Wow. Carlos Gomez had great taste.

  14

  By the time they landed in Riga, it was well past midnight. Jake wished he had been able to sleep during the flight. He was tired now. Yet, he knew his evening wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  Jake slung his nearly empty bag over his shoulder and tapped Karl on his arm.

  Karl startled awake. “Why haven’t we taken off yet?”

  “We’re in Riga,” Jake said.

  His son got up and shook his head. “Wow. This is a great way to travel. I could get used to this.”

  Karl got out first and waited on the tarmac for Jake, who needed to talk with the flight attendant.

  “So, you’ll stay here for us?” Jake asked.

  “Of course, Jake,” she said. “You are checked in to the Roma Hotel in the Old Town under Jacob Konrad. A car is waiting for you outside the private terminal.”

  “How many nights?” Jake asked.

  “As many as you need. Everything is paid.”