Danger-Close: A Jake Thunder Adventure (The Jake Thunder Adventures Book 1)

by Jon F. Merz

  I looked at Viktor. "You never had her?"

  He grinned. "Once."

  I nodded. "Uh huh. That's what I thought."

  "She was good," he said.

  I nodded. "At least Woolery was right about one thing."

  Melinda sighed. "And what was that?"

  "You really are a whore."

  Melinda frowned. "Right, well now that you two have compared notes, why don't we finish this all up, okay?" She looked at Viktor. "Who do you want?"

  Viktor looked at me and then Darmov. He brought the PDW to rest a short space from Darmov's face. "Him."

  Melinda nodded and walked over to me, bringing the barrel of the G3 on to my heart. "Ready to say good night, Jake?"

  She racked the slide.

  And actually smiled at me.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The gunshot, when it came, sounded so distant that I actually thought my hearing was going bad on me. Then I realized that the reason it sounded so distant was due to the muffled effect the suppressor must have had on it.

  It sounded like a sudden breath expelled by my ear; the first round slammed into Melinda's side just below her armpit. It knocked her to the floor. She howled from the pain.

  Viktor wheeled but came up short as another round plowed into the left side of his chest, just over his heart. He looked down at his chest, already exploding crimson, tried to bring his PDW up and then took another round lower, just east of his heart.

  I watched him sink to the ground, dying faster than he could draw a breath. I slid the small Walther out of my arm holster and flicked the safety off.

  On the floor near me, Melinda was still gurgling and trying to move. Her G3 lay next to her, now too heavy to lift. She clawed at my chair, trying to pull herself up toward me.

  "J-jakeÉ" Bright pink froth bubbled on her lips. The bullet must have punctured one of her lungs on its way through her body.

  I looked down at her. There's a moment when you watch someone realize they're dying that you feel a small measure of pity for them. Depending on what they've done, however, it may not be much at all. Melinda had killed Gregor. She'd conspired to kill us. She was responsible for her sister's death. She was over her head in karmic debt and the repo men had come calling at long last.

  She tried one last time to rise.

  And that's when Darmov shot her again with Viktor's PDW.

  Melinda sank back as Darmov's round shoved its way into the base of her skull.

  I looked up at Darmov. He wore a thin smile on his face as he watched Melinda die.

  He looked at me. "Don't even think about telling me she didn't deserve that."

  "She was dead anyway, Darmov. What you did was cheap vengeance."

  "She would have killed us both."

  I nodded. "Probably."

  He aimed the PDW at me. "Perhaps I should finish you off, too, eh? After all, you did betray me as well."

  "I wouldn't do that."

  "No?"

  I nodded with my head toward my right hand. I had the Walther aimed at Darmov's chest. "You know what hollow points will do when they hit your chest? Lots and lots of nasty stuff."

  Darmov chuckled. "So, what happens now? We're at a bit of a standstill, wouldn't you say?"

  "Nope."

  He frowned. "Must you disagree with everything I say?"

  "Look behind you, Darmov."

  He turned slightly, keeping the PDW aimed at me. In the darkness behind him, shadows had begun to materialize. I saw long barrels thicker at the muzzle. Three men stepped forward, each aiming at Darmov.

  And in the midst of them Major Dave came walking toward us.

  "Hello Darmov."

  Darmov frowned. "Who are you?"

  Major Dave smiled. Then he looked at me. "Hope you don't mind us taking the place of your friend McCloskey."

  "Took you long enough to make your appearance."

  "Yeah, well, it took me long enough to use my pull to find out where the hell this was all going down. Not exactly nice of you leaving me out of the party."

  "Where's Frank?"

  "Outside. This is a federal matter now."

  "Bullshit."

  Major Dave ignored me. He looked at Darmov. "We need to talk."

  "About what?"

  "Your information concerning the location of Osama Bin Laden, the make-up of his networks, his resources within Afghanistan, that type of stuff."

  "What makes you think I know that kind of stuff?"

  Major Dave smiled and looked suddenly very dangerous in the dim light. "Don't bother with the bullshit, Darmov. We know all about you. We know what you did in Afghanistan. We know about your assignments. And we know better than most that you've got a nice cozy relationship trucking heroin out of Afghanistan and shipping it here stateside."

  Darmov shifted the PDW slightly. Behind Major Dave, the three men brought their guns to bear on Darmov.

  Major Dave chuckled. "You might want to be careful with how you handle that weapon Darmov. My men are rather fidgety about people wielding guns around me."

  I frowned. Major Dave had brought a small team of DIA shooters with him. Probably all special operations men. That would explain the precise shooting abilities they'd demonstrated by shooting Viktor and Vanessa in the dark.

  Darmov frowned. "And why would I ever consider handing you over such valuable intelligence?"

  "Because I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse."

  Darmov lowered the PDW slowly. "I'm listening."

  Major Dave gestured around him. "You know this whole place has been wired with enough video and audio surveillance equipment to convince any jury?"

  Darmov glanced around. Major Dave continued. "That's right. We got it all on tape. Every little dirty deed you've committed. Hell, we even got that nice coup de grace of you plugging that chick over there."

  I sighed. I hate theatrics.

  "Between the audio and the video, I am very confident we could send you away for life. Heck, we could probably lobby for the charges to get trumped up to federal. Maybe garner the death sentence for you."

  "I'd be deported," said Darmov.

  Major Dave shook his head. "Oh no. You definitely would not be deported. Not with the crimes you've committed. The kidnapping of babies alone would hold you here and you know it."

  "Make your offer," said Darmov.

  Major Dave nodded. "All right. Here it is: you give us the intelligence we need to take down Bin Laden and the rest of his terrorist pukes and we cut you a deal."

  "What kind of deal?"

  "How's complete amnesty sound?"

  It sounded like shit to me, but nobody ever asked my opinion in these matters, so I kept quiet.

  Darmov smiled. "All the charges would be dropped?"

  "Yes."

  "And what about my future employment opportunities here in the United States?"

  Major Dave shrugged. "I could get you a consultant slot with our intelligence services, I guess."

  "I wasn't referring to that," said Darmov. "What about my business activities here? What's to stop you from holding this over my head?"

  "My word," said Major Dave. "As well as my word that you'd enjoy relative immunity from prosecution in any future incidents. Provided you don't make too much of a nuisance out of yourself."

  Darmov's eyebrows shot up. "Really."

  I sighed. Major Dave shot me a look.

  Darmov smiled. "You make a strong case."

  Major Dave nodded. "You'd be a fool to turn it down, Darmov. You can walk away from this whole bad thing. You can continue making money, bringing in the drugs. Hell, if you keep your networks operational, we might even work out a quid pro quo where we insert some of our people in so we can get some first-rate data."

  "For that kind of involvement, I'd need some additional financial compensation," said Darmov.

  Major Dave nodded. "Anything's possible. Just deliver the intelligence we need and we can discuss it."

  I felt sick.
Not only was Darmov going to walk but he was going to be able to continue his criminal enterprises. Hell, the guy was going to get paid.

  Darmov shifted. "What about Mr. Thunder here?"

  Major Dave looked at me. "What about him?"

  "You can't really expect me to let him go. He knows too much. And besides he's just ornery enough to be a thorn in my side."

  Major Dave shook his head. "I don't think you need to worry about him. Jake will be cool as a cucumber, isn't that right, Jake?"

  I just looked at him.

  I guess that wasn't what Darmov was looking for. "I can't let him go. He'd come after me. He's got too much honor in him to let this go. I don't care how much pressure you put on him, he'd come after me anyway."

  Major Dave frowned. "Don't fuck this up, Darmov."

  But Darmov didn't seem to be listening. "After all, you said yourself that I'd get amnesty if I give you the intelligence."

  "That deal doesn't include you killing this man," said Major Dave.

  Darmov looked at him and waggled his eyebrows. "But you aren't about to stop me if I do shoot him, are you? After all, your mission objective is to get the intelligence out of me, isn't it? If I kill him, and you get the intelligence anyway, then we all walk away happy."

  I could tell by the way Major Dave was chewing his lip that he wasn't quite sure what to do. The men around him still had their guns fixed on Darmov, but I caught one of them glancing at the others. They didn't know what to do, either.

  Great. Just great.

  Darmov turned slowly in my direction. "I want you to know, Jake, that this is entirely personal. I don't like being betrayed. And I don't like you. Not one little bit."

  I nodded. "That's okay, Darmov. I don't like you very much, either."

  And then I shot him with the Walther.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  I was working on the speed bag again when my doorbell rang. I was too tired to play twenty questions with whoever was up there, so I just buzzed the door open and said "basement."

  Two minutes later the elevator doors slid open. McCloskey and Major Dave walked out. Major Dave's faced wrinkled when he took a whiff. McCloskey nodded.

  "A fan. He needs a fan down here."

  Major Dave looked at me and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You got a minute?"

  I increased the tempo on the speed bag. For another thirty seconds, the movement was a blur. When I finished with one final solid right, the bag jumped on the chain. I turned and looked at them both.

  "Make it quick."

  Major Dave nodded at the bag, which was still taking a while to slow down. "You're pretty good on that thing."

  McCloskey winced. I smiled. "Actually, I'm damned good on this thing. And I'm also good on the heavy bag. And I'm even better when I do it on people."

  "Yeah. That's what I meant."

  I smirked. "Of course you did."

  Major Dave sighed. "Look, we probably got off on the wrong foot Ð "

  "We've never been on a right foot," I said.

  Major Dave turned to McCloskey. "Is he going to let me finish my sentence?"

  "Depends," said McCloskey. "He looks pretty pissed to me."

  That Frank, always so damned observant. Major Dave considered me again. I took a drag of water. Major Dave cleared his throat.

  "All right. How about this: what you did the other night was almost completely inexcusable."

  I cocked an eyebrow. "Almost completely? I love it when people speak in oxymorons. It really enriches my life."

  McCloskey tried not to grin. He didn't really succeed. I sighed. "What do you mean Ôalmost completely?'"

  "He's still alive," said Major Dave. "At least you didn't kill him."

  "I'm a good shot," I said.

  "Bullshit," said Major Dave. "You had no idea where that round would go once you shot him. You didn't know if it would have passed right through his body or struck a couple of vital areas and killed him in no time."

  "Well, you guys weren't exactly overwhelming me with your attempts to stop him from killing me."

  "You know the reason."

  "Sure," I said. "I know the reason. Didn't mean I had to go along with it. And since Darmov's actions were getting ready to violate Jake Thunder's Personal Salvation Code, I had to act."

  "Is that really a code?"

  "In my book it is. Subparagraph three section 2 says that no baby kidnapping former Soviet Intelligence officers shall be permitted to riddle Jake Thunder's body with bullets from a Heckler & Koch PDW."

  "That's a pretty specific ruling."

  "Damned straight. Can't leave much to chance."

  "You got anything in there about pissed off DIA officers?"

  I smiled. "Absolutely. Case like that, the duties of avenging my wrongful death fall to my duly-appointed friends to carry out."

  McCloskey nudged him. "That'd be me, Dave."

  Major Dave nodded. "I figured."

  I took another swig of water. "So, how is ol' Darmov anyway?"

  "You really want to know?"

  "Maybe. Maybe I'm just being polite."

  "I wouldn't figure you for polite."

  "Figure whatever you want. You said he's still alive."

  "If you can call it that. Your bullets severed his spinal cord midway up his back."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah. You paralyzed him from the neck down. He can talk and stuff but he'll never be away from medical attention."

  "Well," said McCloskey. "I'd say that works out pretty well, wouldn't you?"

  "Suits me," I said. "This world can always use a few more ambulatory-challenged folks."

  "You're very lucky he can still talk. Very lucky he can still tell us all about Osama Bin Laden and all the Al-Qaeda networks."

  "I'm a lucky guy," I said. "Just ask Frank there. He'll tell you all about the time I found a five-leaf clover."

  "Five leaves?"

  McCloskey shrugged. "We were near a nuke plant. Might have been a genetic mutation or something."

  Major Dave looked at us and shook his head. "You guys seem pretty tight."

  McCloskey shrugged. "Well, he doesn't give me good back rubs or anything, but yeah, as far as friends go, Jake's all right."

  Major Dave nodded. "Good luck to both of you." He turned and walked back toward the elevator. We waited until the doors closed.

  McCloskey turned back to me. "You shot him?"

  I nodded. "He was going to shoot me, Frank. And Major Dave there was going to let him."

  "Fucking spooks," said McCloskey. "Play whatever side they can to get what they need."

  "It's what they do," I said. "I wouldn't waste time on it."

  "You think Major Dave will leave you alone?"

  "I don't know. You tell me. Is he a smart man?"

  McCloskey nodded. "I guess so. Seems that way the few times I've dealt with him."

  "In that case, I'd say we're okay." I finished the water and looked at him. "What the hell happened that night anyway? I thought you and your boys had the joint locked down tight."

  "We did. We were sitting in the command post when Major Dave showed up and told us he was assuming command. He waved enough paperwork in my face to keep me from raising hell. Plus, he had a squad of shooters with him. We had to sit there and watch while things went south in the bus yard. Wasn't easy, I can tell you that."

  "Wasn't exactly easy sitting there waiting for all that shit to blow over, either," I said.

  McCloskey nodded. "Sorry about Melinda. I mean, for what it's worth."

  "It was all a lie, Frank. She wasn't who she claimed to be."

  "How'd you find out they were twins?"

  "I figured whoever shot at my office window and down at Black Falcon had to be a helluva shot. Darmov's guys were accounted for so that left only Vanessa. I figured there was no way a snob like old man Patterson would have sent his daughters to public school. I asked Brenda to run it down and find out where Vanessa'd gone to school."

  "She fo
und it?"

  "Yeah. Place in upstate New York. But Vanessa never took marksmanship. Only Melinda did. Brenda managed to dig up a copy of the yearbook. And there they were in black and white. Side by side, you couldn't even tell the difference."

  "Strange that Darmov never suspected."

  "Maybe he did at first. Trouble with identical twins is they can be pretty tough to tell apart. Plus, Melinda probably spent an awful lot of time devising her scheme. And while looks might account for a lot, actions account for even more. She could have simply altered her behavior patterns to the extent that she and Vanessa really became different." I took another sip of water. "It's too bad she wasn't the real Vanessa."

  McCloskey nudged the heavy bag again. "I'll make sure the paperwork gets changed."

  "Why bother? They're both dead now anyway."

  "Yeah, they are. But I like things properly filed away. The records state that Melinda died out at the Reservoir. I'll change it so it reads right."

  "Think it'll matter much?"

  "Matters to me," said McCloskey. "How you feeling otherwise?"

  I rubbed my shoulder. "Okay. Still a little sore from the waterfront." I sighed. "Any word on the Patterson estate?"

  "The judge and lawyer that oversaw the will are being disbarred apparently."

  "Really."

  McCloskey examined his fingertips. "Yeah, apparently some anonymous tip sent the local DA poking into the peculiar aspects on one Patterson estate. Amazing, huh?"

  "A crooked lawyer and judge busted at long last. Will wonders never cease?"

  "Word is all that money will be tied up in court for years. Buddy of mine says it might eventually go to charities."

  "That wouldn't be a bad thing. What about Darmov's organization?"

  "Finished as far as I know." McCloskey looked at me. "What happened to Neal Thompson?"

  "Turns out his wife has high insulin."

  "What's that mean?"

  "It means that it messed up her ovulation cycle. That's why they had such a hard time conceiving."

  "Her doctors didn't catch that before?"

  "The research is new. Only in the last few years or so. She goes on a medicine called Metformin, which brings down her insulin levels and allows her to ovulate properly. The doctor I recommended them to felt pretty certain she'll be pregnant within two months."