by Mark Nolan
There was a long silence as everyone wondered if they had heard Jake correctly.
“You can’t be serious,” Brinkter said.
Jake turned and looked at Brinkter. “Why not? The USA paid out fifteen million dollars each for information that lead to the capture of Saddam Hussein’s two sons. You can pay a total of thirty million dollars to one man who made a few phone calls to tip you off about two far away arrests. But you can’t afford to pay me one million to fight a terrorist to the death, right here on our home soil? If that’s the case, you can fight him yourself Brinkter. Good luck with that. I’ll be betting against you.”
Brinkter folded his arms. “You are not getting one million dollars from the CIA. It’s too much money.”
“You pay peanuts, you get monkeys,” Jake said.
“Forget it Wolfe, you can go back to FBI custody right now for all I care.”
Jake stood up. “Okay then, let’s go.” He looked at the TV screen. “General Clemens, President Kaufman, I’m sorry I can’t help you. But I’m sure Brinkter here can do the job for you instead of me. Good evening sirs, it was an honor to speak with you both. If you want to talk again, I’ll be at the FBI headquarters being held on false charges by the well-meaning people there.”
Jake turned and started walking toward the door. Easton was blocking his path, staring Jake down. Jake stared right back and continued moving directly toward him.
Easton didn’t draw his weapon. Both men flexed their muscles, preparing for a fist fight they didn’t want but neither would back down from.
“Wait a minute Jake,” President Kaufman said.
Jake stopped a few feet away from Easton. He nodded in respect and then turned his back, trusting him. He faced the TV screen. “Yes, Mister President?”
“I’m not an unreasonable man but you’re asking for an almost impossible condition on short notice.”
“That’s true, but you’re asking me to perform an almost impossible life or death mission on short notice. What is your Plan B if I decline to fight and kill Zhukov?”
“Point taken, but we simply can’t pay you a million dollars right now. However I can and will authorize a reward of one hundred thousand dollars, as a bounty on Zhukov. The funds will be paid to you in the form of a reward upon successful completion of your mission.”
“Thank you, sir. I guess that will have to do. I want Brinkter’s office to make the payment. And I want half paid up front tonight and half paid after the mission is successful. I don’t trust Brinkter any farther than I can throw him.”
“What difference does it make who pays you?”
“Brinkter has lied to me, he’s used me, he owes me, and he needs to pay me. He left me to die in the desert. It’s the principle of the thing. As a man of principle, I’m sure you understand.”
The President looked at Brinkter a long moment. “Well Brinkter, what’s it going to be? I want your team to pay this man. Or else I want you to personally go after Zhukov on your own as a civilian vigilante. Your orders will be to fight him to the death. Take your pick and make it quick.”
Brinkter looked afraid, but he shrugged as if it was no big deal. “If you sign an order for me to give this loose cannon a hundred grand, then of course I’ll carry out your orders. However I want to go on record as advising against it. Wolfe’s problem is that you never know what crazy thing he might do next. He has no respect for authority and he strays too far off the beaten path.”
Jake said, “Maybe the beaten paths are for beaten men, and I prefer to be a trailblazer.”
“Consider it done and ordered Brinkter,” Kaufman said. “Get to work on it immediately and send me a memo when you wire the first half of the funds. I’ll expect to receive that memo within the hour. You’ll be keeping me awake tonight while I wait to hear from you. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir, understood.”
“Are you satisfied now, Jake?” Kaufman said.
Jake came back to the table and sat down. “Yes, Mister President.”
Brinkter glared at Jake but kept his mouth shut.
Jake looked at him. “You mad bro?”
Jake smiled, knowing Brinkter was going to have to pay at least the first half of the money, and finally pay him some respect. But Jake wondered if he would live to spend any of it.
“Now as your Commander in Chief,” President Kaufman said, “I hereby order you Jacob T. Wolfe to kill the enemy combatant Ivan Zhukov. While acting under the federal law enforcement authority of the US Marshals Service, and also secretly doing your duty under my presidential executive order. Time is of the essence. I hereby order all law enforcement personnel to give you their full support and cooperation during your mission, or face charges for the crime of interfering with a federal investigation.”
Kaufman looked pointedly at Brinkter, Greene, and Easton. Brinkter sat still, but Greene and Easton both nodded at the president in agreement and said, “Yes sir.”
“We’ll begin to carry out your orders immediately,” Jake said.
General Clemens spoke up. “Jake, do your duty and make the Marine Corps proud, son. We’re asking you to give your all. Whether it includes sacrifice, suffering or pain. You just get it done.”
“Yes sir.”
President Kaufman said, “Jake I’m looking forward to having a meeting with you here at the White House after the successful completion of your mission. But for now, on behalf of all Americans, I offer our nation’s thanks to you. Good luck.”
The flat screen televisions flickered and changed to a blue background with the Presidential Seal. Easton pressed the remote and turned them all off.
The woman with the headset came into the room along with a dangerous looking man from the US Marshal’s Service. He wore a .40-caliber Glock pistol in a holster on his belt. Introductions were made and the Marshal began the process of deputizing Jake.
When it was done, Jake held the US Marshals badge with the five-pointed star in his hand. He felt the weight of responsibility that came with it. “It is a great honor to be deputized as a US Marshal.”
The marshal looked Jake in the eye. “You’re damned right it’s an honor. And you’d better be as good as they say you are. Treat that badge with respect. Stay true to the high standards of the US Marshals Service or there will be hell to pay.”
“I’ll do my very best sir, I give you my word,” Jake said.
The Marshal nodded, and he shook Jake’s hand with a crushing grip like a steel vise.
Chapter 104
Banks called Zhukov on the phone and said, “We have a new problem. Congressman Anderson was secretly transported to Washington DC. As you know, enormous sums of money will be won or lost depending on his actions. And of course if things go against us, you’ll be killed by my associates for your failure. That would be rather unfortunate as I so enjoy our conversations.”
Zhukov cursed in Russian. “It’s too late for me to follow Anderson to DC. They’ll be watching airports and flights, even private jets.”
“None of that matters to the council members. They want to know when you will neutralize the congressman as you promised to do and were paid to do.”
“You ought to remind your council that the final step of their plan has not yet occurred, so I have not yet failed. I’ll pay a colleague in DC to kill Anderson when his car picks him up in the morning and drives him to work. In the meantime, I’d like to know what you are doing to neutralize the other politicians who could block your plans.”
“Our lobbyists are very busy. Some politicians are being bribed while others are blackmailed or threatened. Anderson is a vocal leader. He’s the most significant problem. The one you are being paid vast sums to neutralize.”
“I should have just killed Anderson in the first place, but you were against the idea.”
“We didn’t want to create a martyr. That could have caused our worst case scenario.”
“Did your Council have any backup plans, if the congressman failed to stay
in San Francisco?”
“Yes we thought that perhaps you could kidnap Katherine and use her as a bargaining chip.”
“Did Katherine travel to DC with Daniel or is she still in San Francisco?”
“According to our sources she is still in the same San Francisco hospital. However she’s very well protected by the Secret Service and the Police.”
“Maybe I’ll actually shoot her with a real bullet like you originally wanted.”
“If you had done that as we asked you to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“At the time, I had a problem with killing a woman. Especially a pregnant woman. But if it comes down to her life or mine, that changes my outlook. I’m a practical man. There is always a way to get to someone like her. A sniper shot through a window. Poison delivered in a flower bouquet or food item. Exploding teddy bears.”
“If she dies now, the congressman will become infuriated and even more determined to solve this mystery and thwart our plans. He’s getting closer to figuring out the reason behind all of this. The best course of action may be for you to kidnap Katherine and hold her for leverage. That way, even if Anderson discovers our plans he won’t want to risk the lives of his wife and baby by trying to interfere with us.”
“That kidnapping idea was previously rejected as being nearly impossible to implement. And recent circumstances make the odds even worse.”
“You’ve often bragged about how you enjoy a challenge. Here’s a real challenge for you. It would be nearly impossible for anybody else. But you are the true master, the legend, The Artist who does what no one else can.”
“Flattery now Chairman? You sound desperate but I can’t argue with your logic. “I’ll attempt to kidnap or frighten Katherine. The attempt alone, if sufficiently violent and horrific, should send a message to Daniel. He’ll learn that missing a few days of work doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but my desire for revenge does. He and his wife and child would never be safe from my vengeance for the rest of their lives.”
Chapter 105
When Sarah Chance got home to her studio apartment, she poured herself a glass of wine. She looked in the refrigerator for something to eat but realized that she didn’t have an appetite. After the surreal experience of being arrested and held in FBI custody, her nerves were raw and her stomach was in a knot.
Sarah kept glancing at her phone, wishing Jake would call. She felt a strong connection with him. He was probably still in FBI custody with no access to his phone. The FBI agents had taken her phone from her too when she was in their custody. They had only returned it when Bart Bartholomew had bailed her out. She kept telling herself that Jake would call. He just couldn’t do it right now. But he would tomorrow for sure.
There were plenty of texts and missed calls on her phone from Leonard, but her path in life was different than his. The man who captured her heart would treat her as an equal but still be an alpha male that provided strong leadership and swept her off her feet. Was that too much to expect, and was there any reason a man owed that to her nowadays? How could she explain to Leonard that she had just been taken in handcuffs to the FBI building and then questioned in an interrogation room?
Sarah remembered that Jake worked at the television studio. He’d probably be listed there on the page of photojournalists. Folks in the media did that so people could call them about breaking news stories. Sarah used her phone to go online and find the news station website.
She found Jake listed there and her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they added Jake’s number to her phone under the name “Bad Boy.” As Sarah stared at the phone screen and drummed her fingernails on the tabletop, she decided to just do it. She sent Jake a text message and worded it carefully in case the FBI read it.
Hello Mr. Wolfe. As your veterinarian I wanted to let you know your dog Cody is okay and is sleeping at your friend Terrell’s house.
Sarah then sat and sipped some wine and watched the phone like it was a magician about to do a magic trick.
SFPD Sergeant Cori Denton was at home drinking a gin and tonic and smoking a Marlboro Lights 100 cigarette. She heard a phone vibrating. The sound was coming from inside the file box of evidence for the Jake Wolfe investigation. She’d taken it home in violation of police procedures.
Denton jumped up off the couch, ran to the file box and retrieved a clone of Wolfe’s phone. It was an exact copy of the one that had been found on the airport shuttle. The police tech named Roxanne had downloaded all of the data from Wolfe’s phone before the FBI had taken it away. Denton had told Rox to transfer a copy of the data to another brand new phone that was the same make and model. Denton then went to a phone store and used her badge to intimidate an employee there into activating the clone phone for her.
Wolfe’s actual phone was probably still in an evidence locker at FBI headquarters. Denton hoped that either the battery was dead, or nobody would hear it chime or vibrate at this time of night. She saw that the clone phone had received a text from Sarah Chance. The text raised her suspicions. She texted back. Call me.
The phone vibrated with a call. Denton answered it but didn’t say anything.
She heard a female voice. “Hello, Jake? Are you there? It’s Sarah.”
Denton said, “This is Sergeant Denton with the San Francisco Police Department. You have called the phone of a suspected criminal and wanted fugitive. Identify yourself or I’ll send a police car to find you and arrest you.”
Sarah’s heart sank. “My name is Sarah Chance. I already went through all of this with the FBI. If you have any questions you can talk to them. Or to your fellow police officer named Beth Cushman.”
“I remember you Chance. You’re a suspect in the murder of that attorney in Mill Valley. I have a lot of questions, and you’re going to answer them right now.”
“I’m sorry but I only answer questions in the presence of my attorney. His name is Bart Bartholomew. If you wish to speak with me any further you’ll have to call him first. Good night.”
The call ended, and Denton cursed. She accessed the police department computer records of the investigation of Wolfe. Sure enough, there was an entry for this evening. The FBI had found Wolfe at Chance’s veterinary clinic and had taken him into custody. Denton was furious that nobody had bothered to inform her. She was the lead investigator on Wolfe’s case. This was an outrage and was so typical of the jerks she had to work with. It didn’t matter to her if it was late at night and the case had been taken over by the FBI. Cushman had written a brief report. She hadn’t bothered to give Denton a courtesy call at home to update her on the status of the case. What was Cushman doing at the scene of an FBI raid anyway? And why was Wolfe captured at the clinic of that Sarah Chance woman? Sarah was looking guiltier by the minute.
Denton paced back and forth in agitation and then sent a text to her partner Kirby. He didn’t reply. She then tried calling him but only got his voicemail. This was not right, and she was not going to stand for it. Even though she’d been drinking alcohol, she put on her jacket and grabbed her car keys.
Before she went out the door, she grabbed a bottle of pills and swallowed one down with the last of her gin and tonic. Then she walked to her vehicle and sat down in the driver’s seat. She fumbled for the keys and dropped them on the floor. When she reached down to pick them up, she banged her forehead on the steering wheel. She cursed and then started the car. If she ever caught someone else drinking and driving she would put them in jail, but her own illegal activity didn’t matter. She was above the law. She was on the side of the angels. She could do whatever she wanted and nobody could stop her.
Denton drove off, leaving the forgotten clone phone sitting on her table at home. It vibrated again with a series of texts from Jake’s former fiancée Gwen. Texts that Jake had no way of seeing.
Jake, we need to talk!
ANSWER ME!!
Jake?
Jake!!!
I’M PREGNANT!!!!
> Hello?
No comment?
YOU JERK!!!!!
Chapter 106
Zhukov drove slowly past Sarah Chance’s home. It was a Victorian house that had been converted into individual studio apartments. Her unit was on the second floor. Zhukov looked up at Sarah’s window. He saw a light on inside and a person walking around. “Hello Sarah my dear.”
He found a parking space two blocks away, lit up a Cohiba cigar he’d stolen from the Far Niente, and walked back to within visual distance of Sarah’s apartment. He stopped one buildings down and across the street. He stood in a dark recessed doorway while he smoked the cigar and watched Sarah’s building with night vision binoculars. The front door and the ground floor windows didn’t appear to have an alarm system installed. He’d never found a residential building anywhere in the world that he couldn’t break into within a few minutes. This one would be no different.
Car headlights approached, and Zhukov stepped back into the alcove, staying in the shadows out of sight. The car slowed down and stopped in front of Sarah’s building. A spotlight shone from the driver’s side of the vehicle and swept over both sides of the street. Zhukov flattened his back against the wall as the light passed across his location. That was close, and if the car moved forward, the light could shine right into the doorway and expose him.
Zhukov held the cigar with his left hand, down by his side that was away from the light. His right hand went to his pistol, and he was prepared to fire at the driver’s window of the vehicle if it drove forward. The spotlight went off however, and the car drove slowly away and down a side street. In the dark he couldn’t tell if the vehicle was a private security company or the police or the FBI. Someone was keeping an eye on Sarah Chance, but who was it?
