Blindsided (A Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Novel Book 4)

by JT Sawyer

  “Yes, but who would go through all this trouble?” she said. “The company who hired us checked out—their financials, their corporate security ratings, everything. I researched them myself and had many video conferences with the owner as per standard protocol.”

  Petra had been tapping on his laptop and turned the screen around again. “Uhm, according to this, no such company exists.” The heading indicated that the domain name for the company website had expired.

  Dev slammed the side of her fist into the seat. “Fuck, what is happening?”

  As the plane touched down, Dev hardly felt the impact of the landing gear or the resulting turbulence of the brakes. She stared at the men below trotting to the side of the plane, their hands resting on their holstered pistols.

  Dev glanced at her trusted colleagues around her. “Prairie Smoke.” She said the words twice more, staring intensely into the eyes of the three men as each one nodded in recognition then cast wild glances around the cabin. Prairie Smoke was the code phrase for their rendezvous point in Tel Aviv should they ever have to escape and evade or if there was an urban disaster and they needed a rallying location. The place was a two-story apartment used as a Gideon safehouse years ago by Anatoly Leitner, one of many he had established in prominent cities they frequented around the world.

  “Once this questioning is over, head to the safehouse. And if we get separated once we leave the plane, then promise me that one of you will get to my mother. She’s not going to know what’s going on except from those ludicrous news reports.”

  Each of them unbuckled and stood up, walking solemnly through the narrow aisle. Mitch grabbed Dev’s right arm, letting the two other men move up ahead as the side door opened. “Whatever this is, we’ll get through it. We’re not in the wrong here.”

  Her face was rigid and she clenched her teeth, causing a ripple to shoot along her left cheek. Her nerves were already rattled from the mission but now she felt like every synapse in her brain was firing. “Whatever this is involves forces beyond what’s waiting for us on the tarmac.”

  Dev’s head was swirling with questions. Why would a respected contracting firm like Gideon be greeted like this? And why is the Shin Bet involved?

  She shot a glance down at her watch, noting the time, and then saw the date beside it: Monday, August 29. She tried to shove aside the anguish of its significance then looked out through the open hatch door at the agents gathered below. A year ago to this day my father dies and now someone is coming after Gideon. This can’t be a coincidence. Can’t be.

  Chapter 10

  East Tel Aviv

  In a dimly lit cinder block room in the basement of a shuttered brewery, Uri Belkin paced back and forth before the man restrained to the steel table. Beside the thick door to his right was Cavel, who stood with a robotic expression. The lithe figure waited in silence, watching his boss for any indication that he could begin interrogating the supine figure who was starting to regain consciousness.

  Uri’s determined gaze cloaked the mounting anxiety inside of him. He stopped beside a round metal bar stool and picked up the black box resting on top. It was similar in size to a pack of cigarettes but extremely dense, with a grainy surface that underscored its rugged construction. On the side were two USB ports and a small red light that kept flashing.

  One down but how many more to go? he thought while removing a single glove and stroking the side of the box with ever-widening eyes, as if a genie might emerge from inside. For the past year, he had cast a wide net, hoping to locate the other black boxes that could potentially thwart his political career. Months of planning to frame Gideon for a botched mission in Romania had led to this moment and, most importantly, crippled any retaliatory efforts by Devorah and her cadre. He looked at the box and thought of the fleeting strands of disconnected data that were contained inside. There were typed entries by Anatoly documenting his travels in Sierra Leone, where he located a few of Uri’s travel routes in the remote regions of the desert along with some financial figures regarding Uri’s shell companies. Nothing damning in itself except that there were a few locations on the periphery of his old diamond mining camps. What was most troubling though were the interview transcripts from several villages Anatoly frequented where Uri and his men had abducted tribal members for use as slave labor. There was no outright mention of Uri but Anatoly had been dangerously close to the underbelly of Uri’s nefarious doings, although just how close was uncertain. Uri hoped that the semi-limp figure lying before him would know.

  The bald man on the table was groaning, his watery eyes opening and focusing upon Uri. “You—what are you doing here?” said James Ratner while struggling against his handcuffs, causing the entire table to shake. “Why am I being held here?”

  “Now, now, James, you have nothing to worry about. Just a few questions and then we’ll discuss your options.” Uri leaned over the pale man’s face. “You were the head of cyber security and programming at Gideon, I understand.”

  He held up the black box then tapped it against the trembling man’s forehead. “Tell me how many of these you designed for your former boss, Anatoly, and about the encryption program you used.”

  “What?” He rattled his shackles and balled his fists, pounding them against the table. “Are you fucking kidding me? You tie me up in some basement like this—this isn’t legal—the hell is going on here?”

  “I know you’ve worked for Gideon since the beginning and were the one who must have created these devices for Anatoly. He always boasted about his IT staff and your considerable IQ. Now, tell me more about this box,” he said, waving it in front of the man’s face.

  “I only transferred data files to those devices at Mr. Leitner’s request. I never saw what was on them or encrypted the actual box.” He continued wriggling; his carotid bulging from his neck with each attempt.

  Uri shook his head while smirking. “‘Mr. Leitner’—such a term of respect. How Anatoly always commanded such admiration from his little minions.”

  “Look, there were three boxes. I only saw them once, after they arrived, and he had me upload some files to them.”

  “And where did they originate?”

  “Hell if I know; some older guy with a big scar on his neck showed up a few years ago at Gideon and gave them to Mr. Leitner—said he was an old Mossad friend. Then he walked me through the programming procedure. I’d never seen anything like them before.”

  Uri ran a finger along the underside of his chin and took a deep breath, looking back at Cavel. “Yes, of course, Hughes—Victor Hughes. He must have been involved in this too. It had to be him.”

  “Can you get me out of these cuffs now, goddammit? I’m not a criminal—you can’t keep me here.”

  Uri gestured with his hand in a figure-eight pattern as if he were a conductor using the black box to telegraph his moves. “James, who else possesses this technology or this kind of device?”

  “Nobody as far as I know.” James writhed on the table, balling and unballing his fists. “This is bullshit, get me out of here. I’m not answering any more questions.”

  Uri moved the edge of the black box against the man’s lips and pressed against his front teeth. “Now, my man Cavel there by the door would probably prefer it if I left you two alone so he could peel your psyche slowly over a few days; but I am much too impatient a man for that.” He ran his gloved hand over the man’s profusely sweating head. “You see, my good fellow, I have waited a long time to unravel the mystery of this box, and I knew Anatoly well enough to know that he would’ve had others hidden somewhere for insurance. So where are the locations of the remaining boxes?”

  The man mumbled something, causing Uri to straighten his posture and lighten the downward pressure of the black box. “Say again, son, I didn’t quite make that out.”

  “I said you’re the corrupt bastard I always figured you for. You’re not getting anything from me.”

  Uri drove down forcefully on the black box, the front teeth c
racking from the strain as blood spurted upward. “Oh, James, be careful with your words. After all, Gideon doesn’t have a very good dental plan as I recall.”

  The man thrashed his arms and cried out, the whites of his eyes seeming to fill his entire face.

  Uri eased up his grip on the black box momentarily. “Ah, some individuals just take eating solid food for granted. Now, look what you’ve done to yourself.”

  James arched his head up, his lips foaming blood and splintered tooth fragments. “Piece of shit…”

  The man’s sentence was abruptly cut short as Uri slammed the black box into James’ mouth, driving it into the back of the trachea, crushing the soft cartilage. The man’s throat made a gurgling sound like a ruptured garden hose. Blood leaked out from his mouth and nose as his facial muscles quivered. Uri continued pounding his fist onto the edge of the black box until it was completely submerged and the ports filled with crimson fluid.

  Uri removed his hand from the nearly buried black box and wiped his soiled glove across the man’s blue shirt. He stood back and rolled his eyes then resumed pacing back and forth before the still-twitching corpse.

  “This man Hughes is the lead you were looking for?” asked Cavel, who stepped out from the shadows.

  “An unexpected lead at that.”

  “Shall I get our intel people to locate him?”

  Uri turned and looked at the ashen face of the dead man. He pressed his thumb to his curled index finger, cracking a knuckle. “Hughes is a ghost—he worked in counter-intelligence during my time with the Mossad. I thought he disappeared years ago—supposedly dying in an attack in Africa.”

  Uri slid on his other glove and walked to the door. “No, all eyes need to remain on Anatoly’s daughter—it’s possible that Hughes may reach out to her now with all that’s happened.” He paused for a moment before reaching for the rusty door handle, then he turned towards Cavel with a look of wonder. “And Devorah’s mother—Hughes was, shall we say, always fond of her. She might know something about his whereabouts. Send one team out to her place and bring her back to me.”

  Chapter 11

  Gideon Headquarters

  Dev sat nervously in the conference room, her finger stroking the pendant of Poseidon around her neck as if it could conjure up a new beginning to her day. She had been in this room a thousand times over the years, either hearing her father giving a briefing or conducting one herself. Now she was sitting across from the head of the Shin Bet, Benjamin Amadi, whose rigid face seemed to mirror her own.

  “That was some performance at the airport, Ben—especially the part with you bagging my pistol as evidence. You want to tell me what the hell this is about and who is pulling your strings?”

  He leaned forward, resting his shovel-like hands on the edge of the table. “I received orders early this morning. All operations at Gideon are to cease and senior members are to be apprehended upon returning to Israel.”

  “You know me—the work I do. What’s this all about?”

  He lowered his voice and moved closer to her. “I’m not sure. This came from way above—all the way from Parliament itself as far as I can tell.”

  “Do you think for a second that me or my crew are guilty of what the news reports are saying?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. You are in the shit and somebody clearly wants you there for a reason.”

  Dev thought back to the timeline in Romania again and their arrival back in Israel. How did it all happen so fast? Someone would have to orchestrate an operation like this weeks or more in advance and then have pull with the media, the Romanian government, and the Shin Bet. “I’m absolutely confounded.”

  “Look, I’ll let you know if I find out anything. For right now, you need to cooperate with Tamir Arenberg, who is going to be stepping through that door in a few minutes. He’s a federal prosecutor who will fill you in on what the charges are as even I don’t know for sure the full extent of what they’re hitting you with.”

  Dev appreciated seeing a friendly face but his words seemed rehearsed. Even his posture was robotic, like he was trying to foist some stolen goods over on a friend. Something was off about him but she couldn’t tell what.

  Dev tilted her head up, her eyes shifting around the ceiling tiles as she tried to place the name of the prosecutor. “Can’t say I’ve heard of him before—is he the one who gave you your bullshit orders?”

  “He’s apparently a special appointee to the Israeli Parliament. Tamir’s a former judge for the military court of appeals. I don’t know much about him but yes, he is the one who sent down the orders to apprehend you and your guys.”

  At the turn of the faded bronze handle, the door creaked open and in walked a short man with floss-like hair. He was dressed in a nicely tailored blue suit with a bright red tie that had a blinding sheen. Tamir Arenberg moved like he was used to people stepping out of his way, and the two guards near the entrance took a step to the side as he swished past them. He didn’t make eye contact with Dev but only focused on a small patch of open space on the oval conference table where he placed his laptop bag. He solemnly withdrew his computer and laid out his goods on the table along with a recording device and manila envelope, arranging everything with the meticulous attention of a surgeon.

  When he was ready, he quickly darted his eyes up at Dev and then walked back and forth along the edge of the table as if he were presenting to a jury.

  “Ms. Leitner, criminal charges are being brought against this company. You clearly knew in advance about the international laws being broken in Romania or you turned a blind eye to it for corporate gain.” He slammed his palm on the desk. “Assassinating a young man—is that part of your company’s new mission statement these days?”

  She threw her shoulders back. “This mission was by the books and violated no international or domestic laws. Something had already gone down at the location where our client was supposed to be turned over to us. This other man was dead long before we arrived on the scene.” She tapped her fist on the table. “My company has a spotless track record in the K & R industry—in fact we are a recognized leader in the field, employed even by the Israeli government itself on occasion.”

  “Not anymore. This time you crossed the line and will have to answer for your actions in a court of law. Gideon’s doors will remain shuttered and its staff confined to Tel Aviv until further notice.”

  “You can’t just shut us down like this. I never even saw a search warrant. This is outside the usual protocols of even the Shin Bet.” She dragged her hands backward on the table, clawing at the glass surface as she seethed. “Do you want to tell me whose payroll you’re on and what this is really all about?”

  “While I work for the government, Ms. Leitner, I actually represent the Israeli people and our country won’t tolerate a criminal organization posing as a wannabe Fortune 500 company.”

  “Listen, this company is one of the main tools in the fight against international abduction. We have dozens of open cases right now with lives hanging in the balance in numerous countries where our clients are depending on our help. My staff takes years to train for this line of work. If you want to bench me and take me aside for questioning, then so be it, but if you shut down Gideon you will be cutting off any hope my clients have of rescue. It will be a terrible loss for both them and their families.”

  “That decision is not made by me but by someone in another place where they see things differently and don’t adhere to your Wild West antics.”

  “What the hell are the charges?”

  “Those are classified.”

  “Classified—how can that be? This isn’t a military unit. It’s a private corporation. Tell me what this is about and I will produce the evidence to refute these charges.”

  Dev looked over at Ben, who averted his eyes and cleared his throat. How can he just stand there? He knows this is utter horseshit. Clearly the person or group behind this has manufactured its own charges.

  Tamir
pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen, then turned it around and slid it towards Dev. “While I can’t divulge any details of the specific charges yet, this will shed some light, I think.”

  The video footage that emerged was remarkably clear and showed Dev and Mitch trotting through the hallway on the third floor of the estate in Romania. The black-and-white images then showed her storming through the entrance and firing three rounds from her pistol into the chest of the young man who was sitting unrestrained in a chair.

  Dev’s mouth hung open and it felt like her throat was constricting. Her pulse raced as she watched the images play over and over on a continuous loop. “But that’s not what happened,” she whispered as she slumped back in her chair. “That’s not the way it happened at all.” She gulped down a breath and forced herself to sit erect while gripping the edge of her chair.

  Tamir grabbed the phone back. “You will have twenty-four hours to meet with your lawyer and produce any evidence you need.” He leaned forward, his face barely an inch from hers. “And Ms. Leitner, don’t even think about leaving Tel Aviv, or Israel for that matter. The same goes for your senior staff.”

  She slid her chair away from him as fury filled every cell in her body. Dev wanted to drive the heel of her boot into the man’s sternum but instead she just narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Don’t leave Tel Aviv,” she said with a half-smile that bordered on a scowl. “You can’t tell me what to do. I’ve not even seen a court order, a warrant for my arrest, or any hard evidence other than this bogus video footage.”

  His face grew taut. “You think this is a joke.”

  “I think you’re a joke—a boy who never grew a pair of balls and is trapped inside a man’s body. And I think you get off lording over people to make up for your inadequacies.”

  The man scrunched his stubby fingers into a fist and slightly raised his hand from the table, glowering. Ben shuffled forward, trying to hold back a chuckle while inserting himself between the two. “I think she’s got the picture on what she needs to do, Tamir.”