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

by Trevor Scott

  “Coming in,” Bragin said loudly. The Russian shoved his shoulder against the foyer wall a few feet closer to the living room than Jake.

  Now, when the man in the living room went to shoot again, Bragin was waiting for the man, taking the guy down with two shots.

  “One down,” Bragin said.

  Jake whistled and Bragin turned to him. “I’m going that way.” Jake swirled his hand, showing he was heading toward the kitchen.

  Then, without an answer, Jake rushed toward the man he had just shot, stepped over the dead body, and continued through the dining room.

  “Dining room clear,” Jake said.

  Moving through the next doorway, Jake found himself in the kitchen. He swept his gun about the room and hesitated. There was a large picture window with a view of the back yard. Only a small light above the stove lit the room.

  Jake was about to step forward and into the hallway that swept around again to the living room, when he saw movement in the reflection in the large window. Before Jake could react, he sensed movement in the hallway.

  Turning quickly, Jake acquired his target, saw the gun and the man behind it, and he shot three times just as the man shot at him. But Jake dove to the floor as he was shooting. He hit his target but the bad guy didn’t.

  As Jake started to get up he remembered the movement in the window. Suddenly, the window smashed in with three or four rounds. Jake had hit the floor and glass rained down on his back. When he finally looked to his right, he saw that another man lay dead just a few feet from him. The Russian had been hiding behind the large island.

  “One down in the kitchen,” Karl said.

  “Another in the back hallway,” Jake said.

  There was more gunfire from the front room.

  “Coming in,” Karl said.

  Jake waved as he got up and brushed off the glass.

  Karl looked at the dead man he had just shot. Kadri was right on his heels, her eyes wide.

  Making sure there was no one else in there, Jake checked the pantry and then opened another door and saw that it was stairs leading to a basement.

  Jake got on the comm and said, “Two coming to help from the back side.”

  “Don’t bother,” Bragin said. Then the Russian stepped out from the other hallway, almost getting shot by Karl and Kadri. “We need to clear the upper levels.”

  “Zaiga,” Jake said.

  “Yes,” she said over the comm. “I’m watching the staircase.”

  “That’s all I needed,” Jake said. Then he pointed to his son and Kadri. “Go with Ivan and clear the upper levels. I’ve got the basement.”

  Karl grabbed Jake’s arm. “You need help?”

  “No. Go. There are two more levels. It’ll take four to clear those.”

  His son nodded and took off with the others.

  Jake changed out his nearly empty magazine for a full set of 17 rounds. Somehow he had fired 14 rounds.

  Now Jake opened the basement door and could see a small light on at the bottom. He stepped lightly down the stone steps, his body hugging the left side and his gun pointed toward the lit area.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Jake stopped and scanned a small open area. This is exactly where Jake would take someone for interrogation. Ahead he saw a thick metal door with sliding bar locks on the top and bottom. But they were both open. Someone had to be in there. Or nobody.

  Slowing his breathing, Jake gently opened the heavy metal door and stepped quickly away when he saw the gunman. He looked again and the man fired two rounds, striking the door.

  Meanwhile, more gunfire came from upstairs.

  “Most of your men are dead, Pavel,” Jake said, guessing this was the man. “The rest will be soon.”

  “If you come in, I will kill her,” Pavel said.

  “Just kill him,” came a woman’s voice. Sofia Sepp.

  But Jake knew he needed this man alive. He needed to know what his plans were for the summit and the potential invasion of the Baltic States.

  Jake quickly looked through the opening and the Russian fired a couple more rounds. This time the bullets sailed past Jake and hit the concrete and stone wall behind him. But Jake had gotten a better view of the room—a naked Sofia Sepp was hanging from the ceiling, her legs stretched out. The Russian was using her as a shield.

  “Kill him,” Sofia yelled again.

  “Shut your mouth, whore,” Pavel said with a growl.

  Glancing about the small room for an idea, Jake could only come up with one thing on short notice. He could either wait for the man to run out of bullets, or he could rush in. There was no waiting for help or divine intervention. Jake backed away from the doorway as far as he could go. Then, with a couple of heavy breaths, Jake ran as fast as he could toward the doorway. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Jake went into a slide like he had in his youth rounding first base and sliding into second.

  The Russian fired a number of times. Jake had just one shot, which he took, hitting the Russian in the right shoulder. The man’s gun dropped to the ground.

  Pavel reached for the gun with his left hand, but Jake was ready for that. He shot again and hit the Russian’s left forearm.

  Jake jumped to his feet and kicked the man’s gun across the room.

  “On your knees,” Jake ordered.

  “Fuck you,” Pavel said.

  Shaking his head, Jake snapped his right foot into the man’s sternum, catching him solidly and dropping him to his knees. Then, as the Russian tried to catch his breath, Jake found his knife and cut Sofia Sepp loose.

  Instead of getting dressed, though, Sofia turned to the Russian.

  “We need him alive,” Jake said.

  She nodded and smiled. Then she grasped the Russian’s head with her right hand and planted her right knee into the man’s face, bringing instant blood from a broken nose and knocking him out.

  The gunfire from upstairs had stopped. Jake checked his comm and said, “Status? I’ve got the package in the basement.”

  He got clears from everyone in his ear piece.

  Now Jake turned to see Sofia getting dressed.

  “Are you all right?” Jake asked.

  She smiled. “I am now.” She picked up her cut undergarments and continued, “He cut these off me and was about to do some unspeakable things to me. But he got a little excited and had an early accident. Then it took him a while to try to recover. By then the shooting started upstairs. Did you bring the whole Lithuanian Army with you?”

  “Not exactly,” Jake said. “I’m glad you are all right.”

  “What about him?” she asked, buttoning up her shirt and putting on her jacket.

  That was a problem, Jake knew. If they turned the man over to the Lithuanians, they would probably be forced to return him to Moscow. No, he needed a talk with the man first. Before Jake could say another word, Sofia came to him and gave him a big hug.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Jake kissed the young woman on the forehead, like a father to a daughter. Then he turned off his comm unit. “We should have never let this happen to you.”

  Moments later Ivan Bragin came through the door, his unsteady hand waging his Makarov around the room. Seeing that all was well, he holstered his gun.

  “Is he alive?” Bragin asked.

  “For now.”

  “Good,” the Russian said. “Let me interrogate.”

  “We’ll do it together,” Jake said.

  Sofia stepped forward and said, “No, this must be a Lithuanian interrogation. Our country is at stake.”

  Jake put his hand on Sofia’s shoulder and moved in close to her. “We have to do this, Sofia.”

  “Why?” she needed to know.

  “Because neither of us are officially affiliated with any government,” Jake explained. “We don’t have to follow the rules, and this Russian will fear that more than anything.”

  She nodded understanding.

  “Head upstairs and make sure nobody comes down h
ere,” Jake said to Sofia.

  “The police are on their way,” she said.

  “Make sure the police know this is a VSD operation.”

  She stiffened her jaw and said, “I understand.”

  Jake turned to his Russian friend. “What will motivate this man the most?”

  “Pavel?” Bragin asked. “I have read the man’s file. I have a few ideas. Help me tie him up.”

  38

  All of them spent most of the night in the Russian not-so-safe-house. Eventually the police had listened to Sofia Sepp, especially after making a phone call to her boss, Linas Sutkus, who had confirmed Sofia’s story unconditionally. The dead bodies had been whisked away as if they had never existed on this Earth. Then, after a rather complex and lengthy interrogation of Pavel Tursunov, Jake and his make-shift crew had departed the house and went back to their respective hotels just as the sun came up.

  Jake and Bragin had gotten a detailed understanding of what the SVR had planned for the summit. Because of that, they also knew that there was no recall order possible. There was also no location for the hit teams. Those had all been compartmentalized by team. So their only option was to either cancel the summit, which the leaders of all three of the Baltic States agreed would not happen, or they would have to stop the attack as it happened. Or hopefully a little before it happened.

  Jake had slept all day and had dragged himself out of bed as darkness set in to Vilnius again.

  Now, he stood before his hotel window overlooking the small courtyard out back. He heard the door click open and Jake saw Zaiga Ulmanis enter in the window reflection. He waited until she came alongside him.

  “Do you want to get something to eat?” she asked.

  “I could use a beer,” he said. “How did the briefing go?”

  She shook her head with desperation. “My boss, Oskars Liepa, is not happy with me.”

  “He’ll get over it.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Sofia is fine. Her boss is calling her a hero of Lithuania. She will get their highest medal.”

  “That’s great. And Kadri?”

  “Hans Vaino was the most disappointed that he wasn’t part of the operation. Even though Kadri explained that it all happened so fast there was no way to include him.”

  “What about her boss, Olev Tamm?” Jake asked.

  “Tamm wasn’t happy, but Kadri will get a KAPO First Class Order of Merit for her particular bravery and selflessness.”

  “Good for her,” Jake said. “How do they plan to stop these hit teams?”

  “The CIA man, Anthony Paitrick, asked to speak with you about that,” Zaiga said.

  “My job is done, Zaiga. More than done.”

  “I know, Jake. But you should listen to the man.”

  Yeah, perhaps. The man did have some control over his son, Karl. “All right. Why doesn’t he just give me a call?”

  “He said he doesn’t have your number. And he seemed a little concerned about showing up unannounced.”

  Understandable. The man had a little discretion. “Where does he want to meet?”

  “He’s waiting downstairs in a big black vehicle.”

  Jake adjusted his gun under his left arm. Then he put on his leather jacket over his weapon. “I thought you wanted to get something to eat.”

  “I’ll wait here for you,” she said. “It shouldn’t take long. After getting me into a shootout, I think you should buy me a drink or two. Maybe three.” She smiled at him.

  “I know of this young man working with Estonian KAPO. He might like a pretty girl like you.”

  “He’s a good man,” she said. “But too young for me. I like someone with more experience.”

  He wasn’t sure how to take that, but luckily she didn’t elaborate. Jake simply smiled at her and left her alone in the room.

  Getting to the ground floor, Jake then wandered out to the waiting black SUV.

  Paitrick lowered his back window and said, “You need a ride?”

  Jake opened the door and got into the back seat. Sitting in the front were two rough-looking characters—probably contract former special forces. He closed the door and buckled up.

  They pulled away and nobody said a word for a couple of blocks.

  Finally, Paitrick said, “Nice work last night.”

  Jake said nothing.

  “I wish you had informed me of the op, though,” Paitrick said.

  “Why?”

  “To bring our resources. To help.”

  “We did all right,” Jake said. “Killed the bad guys and got the intel. Am I missing something?”

  Now Anthony Paitrick didn’t have anything to say. But he said something anyway. “There are certain protocols we need to follow.”

  “Fuck you. You’re just pissed because you didn’t get credit for gathering the intel.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “You’ve reached the Peter Principle, Paitrick. You’ve finally reached a level of incompetence where you can actually do real harm.”

  The man in the front passenger seat let out a slight laugh, which brought an evil stare from Paitrick.

  “I haven’t begun to. . .”

  “Fuck up royally,” Jake said. “Give it time.”

  “You’re an asshole,” Paitrick said.

  “Now we understand each other. I’m an asshole and you’re a fuck up. I can live with that.”

  “What in the hell have I done to you?”

  The SUV rolled slowly down the outer ring around the Old Town of Vilnius, keeping well below the speed limit.

  Jake hesitated, wondering just how far he should go. Then he went forward and said, “Let’s see. You’re in charge of the entire Agency effort in the Baltics. The Russians are on the move, about to drive their tanks across the border and cut off Lithuania and the rest of these countries from the rest of Europe in an effort to bring them back into Mother Russia. The SVR has been kidnapping intelligence officers and using them for pawns and intelligence in kangaroo courts for months. There’s a summit scheduled for tomorrow morning and there are four hit teams set to shoot up the place. Knowledge we only gathered last night through my efforts, along with a few other officers.”

  “And a former Russian KGB and SVR officer,” Paitrick said with considerable derision. “How can we trust him?”

  “I was part of the interrogation of Pavel Tursunov. And everything was done in English.”

  “Maybe this is what they wanted you to find all along,” Paitrick said.

  Jake had already considered this possibility. The Russians could have easily set up the hit on Ivan Bragin to gain his allegiance with Jake. The problem with that, of course, is that Bragin and the Russians had no idea that Jake was on the case. Or that Jake would come to Bragin for help in getting back Sofia. “That’s a nice story to tell your grandkids, Paitrick. But that’s not what’s going on here.”

  “So, you think this strike on the Baltic leadership is real?”

  “Yes. It’s not to say that something else isn’t going on with the Russians, though. They have a history of thinking long-term. But it’s easier to strike a country or countries when their leadership is dead and there is internal struggle and chaos. I believe they’re using the Fifth Column approach.”

  Paitrick looked confused. “When will Moscow strike?”

  “That was above Tursunov’s level,” Jake said. “But if I had to guess, I’d have them striking within a week. It would take each parliament time to install new leadership. Assuming the strikes are entirely successful.”

  “What about NATO Article Five?”

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t trust NATO to go to war with Russia over these three countries.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Obviously the Russians are betting on the same thing.”

  By now they were cruising along the northern part of the Old Town, about to turn back toward Jake’s hotel. They were doing a slow loop.


  “Are you going to be with us tomorrow to make sure everything goes as planned?” Paitrick asked.

  Jake had already tried to get the billionaire to send his jet for a pick-up and return to Italy, but it wouldn’t be available for a couple of days.

  “What’s the point?” Jake asked. “You should have everything in place now.”

  “We could use your experience, Jake.” Paitrick hesitated. “These things never go as planned.”

  He thought it over. Something had been bothering Jake all along, from the moment he stepped foot in Estonia to rescue his son from the Russians. Something deep in his gut didn’t feel right. Shit! What if?

  “What’s going on tonight?” Jake asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  The SUV pulled up alongside the curb in front of Jake’s hotel, but the driver kept the engine running.

  “Where are the presidents of the Baltic States tonight?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think the hit teams are in place now,” Jake said. “And why not hit the targets when they’re dispersed and less hardened with security.”

  “My God,” Paitrick said.

  “Where are they?”

  “The Lithuanian president is at his palace. The Latvian president is staying at a private residence. I don’t know the location. And the Estonian president is staying at the Radisson Blu.”

  “You need to move these counter terrorist teams into place now,” Jake said. Then he got out of the SUV and looked back in. “I’m in. You notify the Baltic leaders and their security teams.”

  “Wait,” Paitrick said. “Where are you going?”

  “My son texted me earlier saying there was a dinner party between the Estonian and Latvian presidents at the Radisson. I’ll head there. You should get your people to the palace. It’s just blocks from here.”

  “That dinner is over by now,” Paitrick said. “From there they were expected to go to the Gates of Dawn for a candle-light vigil and prayers.”

  “All right. I’ll head there.” Jake barely had time to close the door before the SUV sped away.

  Now he rushed into his hotel to get Zaiga.

  39

  It took Jake minutes to grab Zaiga, who looked like she was ready to roll. They found their rental car out back and rushed south toward the Radisson Blu hotel, which was less than two kilometers away. Jake had called Karl to get the Estonians on the move, but his son had told Jake that Hans and Kadri were already at the Gates of Dawn. Karl had not been required to attend.