by Bob Blink
“Which one is that?” Carlson asked.
“LaSala,” Jake replied.
“Be careful, and call me at home when you know something more,” Carlson said. “I wish Laney was there to help out.”
“This won’t be played by the book,” Jake said. “I think it’s better he’s back there for the moment.”
After ending the conference, Jake, Nate and Karin sat and discussed the situation. Karin didn’t like it, but realized their future security depended on ending the threat.
“Let’s do it,” Jake said, after they had worked through the plan.
Jake retrieved his Sig from the desk, changing the barrel for the threaded version that would accept the special suppressor like the one he had used in Washington. He handed Nate the Glock he’d retrieved from the gun safe that was similarly equipped. Nate had his own weapon, but in addition to being linked to him, it wasn’t set up for suppression. Neither of the weapons they would be using could be traced back to them.
“I’ll open up the garage and putter around with the Highlander,” Jake said. “You sneak around and take him while he’s not being careful.”
Jake gave Nate ten minutes to go out the back and work his way around to the street in front, then went out in the garage and opened the door. He lifted up the hood of the car, and then dug into his toolbox and started laying out a number of wrenches. Nate worked quickly, and Jake hadn’t even gotten started with his pretend maintenance when his cell-phone vibrated. It was from Nate.
Jake pushed the button that would lower the garage door, and ducked under the door before it could close completely, walking toward the car parked across the street several houses down. When he got there, he found Nate holding the Glock on an unhappy Carlos LaSala, who sat with his hands on the steering wheel.
Blocking his own weapon from view of anyone who might be watching, Jake said, “In the back,” and opened the driver’s side door. He stepped back, and covered LaSala as he climbed in the back. Then he handed the hood a pair of plastic zip-ties and indicated he was to put them on. Only then did Jake climb in the back of the vehicle, as Nate slid behind the wheel. They would use this vehicle for their visit.
Thus far LaSala hadn’t been asked any questions, and he was surprised both to be discovered, and by the fact the man he’d never seen before who was driving, knew exactly where to go. Less than ten minutes since he’d found himself looking into the muzzle of the Glock, LaSala was climbing out of the car and walking toward the motel room where Santino was staying.
The one LaSala knew as Trask held the gun on him, while the man he’d never seen before kicked in the door without breaking stride. As the door slammed open, LaSala was pushed through the open space, with the two men following behind, their guns ready in case those inside weren’t as surprised as hoped.
Lenny Rizzo stood with his mouth open. Brusca was faster, and was already reaching for a weapon stuck in a holster on his belt. Nate fired a round into the table near Brusca’s hand, and the hood froze, seeing that he’d be dead before he could level his own weapon. Jake shoved LaSala into the room, then kicked the door shut behind him. Despite the damage Nate had done by kicking it open, it remained shut.
“I have a few questions,” Jake said before anyone else could speak.
Jake knew that Brusca would associate Jake with his recent activities in Washington. Nate was an unknown to them. Brusca would be thinking Jake was bound by the usual rules that applied to federal agents. They might not know who Jake was as yet, but that association would have colored their views. That wouldn’t be productive.
“I don’t know how they spotted me,” LaSala whined to Brusca.
Jake raised the Sig and shot LaSala once in the middle of the forehead. LaSala’s eyes rolled up, and he dropped to the floor dead.
“He was useless,” Jake said as he turned his weapon toward Brusca. “Now maybe we can talk without interruption.”
Jake could see the surprise in the older hood’s face as he tried to reconcile the brutal shooting with what he’d been thinking a moment before.
“I don’t know who you are,” Brusca managed a moment later, “but you’ve made some kind of mistake. We are not who you think we are.”
“I don’t think so,” Jake said. He turned the Sig toward the younger Rizzo. “Perhaps if I put a few rounds in your young friend here I can win some cooperation.”
Jake could guess what Brusca had to be thinking. Talking out of turn was not career enhancing in his business, but letting the boss’s son get wounded or killed wasn’t either. Jake had already shown he had no problem wounding or killing them, so he needed to decide what he could say without giving away information his boss would deem unacceptable. They hadn’t expected a confrontation. This trip was supposed to have been easy, and only focused on learning who this man was.
“I can’t tell you anything,” Brusca finally said, trying his opening gambit.
“How about I try my questions?” Jake said reasonably. “You might find what I’m asking isn’t something that is a problem. That might be better than I start shooting holes in Rizzo’s son. We both know he wouldn’t like that.”
Jake could see that Brusca was surprised by how much Jake knew. He’d hadn’t expected that Jake would know who Lenny was. He was going to be even more surprised in a moment. Brusca nodded slowly.
“Let me start by saying I know that Don Graper of the FBI came to meet with your boss, Lucio Rizzo in the past couple of days. I know that Graper was involved in the attempt on Senator Kerns and Mark LoBue last year. Those are matters that Graper will have to explain away when his superiors at the FBI get their hands on him. I know that Graper came to see Rizzo because he wanted to inform him about me, and his suspicions that I might be the missing Stan Mathews who foiled the attempt. You can see that I am aware of more than you suspected, and therefore you won’t be revealing certain things by your answers. Are you ready for my questions? There are only a couple.”
Santino Brusca indicated he understood, but Jake could sense he was still considering how to respond.
“When did Don Graper arrive in Chicago and when exactly did he meet with Lucio Rizzo?”
The question wasn’t what Brusca had expected. It could be a trick. If he replied, he would be confirming that Mr. Graper had been there. Even though Trask claimed he was aware, he might be lying. On the other hand, he knew things he shouldn’t.
Jake moved the muzzle of the Sig until it pointed toward Rizzo’s son. “One in the kneecap?” he asked. “That might help you decide.”
Brusca knew he should refuse to answer, and he would have had it been anyone other than Rizzo’s son. Even if his answer would reveal that Don Graper was one of their informers, that was a smaller loss than allowing Lenny to be harmed.
“He arrived in Chicago sometime in the morning three days ago,” Brusca said reluctantly. “He didn’t meet with Mr. Rizzo until the following morning as he was away on business.”
Jake nodded and shifted the muzzle away from Lenny, who relaxed slightly.
“Who was at this meeting?”
Brusca couldn’t see how that could matter, and having already admitted it took place, he answered without further prompting.
“Mr. Rizzo, Mr. Graper, and myself,” he replied.
“No one else?” Jake asked.
“No one,” Brusca confirmed.
“Where was the meeting held?” Jake asked.
“In Mr. Rizzo’s study,” Brusca answered, wondering how that could possibly matter. If it was a meeting yet to be held, there could be reason this Trask might want to know, but for a meeting in the past, how could knowing that be helpful.”
Jake looked into the eyes of the gangster. He was certain he was being told the truth. Jake glanced at Nate who nodded his agreement.
“That’s all I wanted to know,” Jake said, as he stood.
“You killed Carlos over that?” Brusca asked, the surprise apparent on his face.
Jake looked over
at the body on the floor. If it wasn’t for the hornets nest that would develop and possible short-term repercussions, he might leave Brusca and young Rozzi to deal with the gunshots and body, and avoid the need to back-track, but he decided it wasn’t wise. He smiled at the gangster, and back-tracked.
Jake and Nate were finishing up the conference call to Carlson. She had just said to call her at home once they knew something.
“That won’t be necessary,” Jake said. Nate looked at him and realized what had happened.
“We did it?” he asked, as Jake nodded.
Carlson had seen this all before.
“What did you learn?” she asked.
Jake explained what the discussion with Rizzo’s men had revealed.
“Graper was telling Rizzo about you the same day we were in our own meeting,” Carlson said.
“So it seems,” Jake agreed.
“What are you going to do?” Carlson asked.
“I’m going to have to go to Chicago, the day before that. Somehow I have to be in a position to prevent that meeting and deal with Graper,” Jake said. “It’ll mean I have to miss those last couple of days, but the terrorists were already captured and it shouldn’t matter much.”
“You’ll have to come to Washington to back-track,” Carlson said, aware of the distance restriction associated with Jake’s ability.
“I’ll fly back to Washington in the morning,” Jake said. “I’ll get there tomorrow night. The sooner I can be there, the shorter my jump will have to be. I can jump back to the morning the day after the assault was completed. That will give me a day to get to Chicago and prepare.”
“I’ll send a package of information to your computer later tonight,” Carlson promised. “It’ll have everything we know about Rizzo and where he lives. You can study that on the plane and be better prepared.” Then she hesitated. “When you get here and have back-tracked, call me at home, the earlier the better. Tell me I told you I am to set you up with Tony. He can help you with this kind of thing better than anyone I know.”
“Tony?” Jake asked. It was a name he wasn’t familiar with.
“He’s the covert operator I’ve referred to a couple of times. Given the tight schedule, you’ll need someone like him if you hope to succeed.”
Chapter 43
Very early the following morning Jake and Nate headed north toward San Francisco Airport. Nate was on his way back to Sparks, Nevada, and the airport was on his way. There was little to be gained by having Karin wake Janna to make the trip with him, especially since once he reached the East Coast and back-tracked, all of this would cease to exist other than in Jake’s memories. Nate knew their adventure would disappear as well. He’d been involved enough times to know how it worked, and while he felt a little melancholy about the whole affair, he knew that Jake would recall how he’d helped out. If he probed him about it, he’d get the story so at least he’d know what they did secondhand.
Once again, given the time difference between the coasts, Jake arrived in Washington, DC late in the afternoon, the day there virtually spent. Jake had spent part of the trip going over the information that Carlson had forwarded to him, so he knew what he was looking at when he finally ended up in Chicago. As yet, he hadn’t any kind of workable plan. He couldn’t see any reason to delay looping back until he’d disembarked at the terminal, and so he back-tracked while the plane was still taxiing toward the gate. His memories found him four days earlier, very early in the morning. The arrival of the future events jolted Jake out of a sound sleep, but he was pleased by the whole thing. This was the longest back-track he’d attempted since his recovery, and he’d accomplished it without the faintest of headaches. He wouldn’t have to make the timid attempts to test his recovery all over again. He knew his ability was fully restored.
Jake pushed aside the covers, rolled out of bed, and checked his watch on the nightstand. Five AM. His orders had been to call Carlson early, and this seemed to qualify. He located his cell-phone and made the call. After a couple of days of being himself, he was back to being Bob Trask for a while longer.
“What’s the matter?” Carlson asked when she answered the phone and realized who it was.
“I back-tracked,” he told her. “Four days worth. My ability has returned, but there’s a problem that needs to be resolved quickly. I have to move on Graper before that situation becomes uncontrolled. That’s why I looped back.” He gave her a condensed version of events.
“I assume you called me with a plan?” she asked.
“Actually, it was your idea,” Jake said. “You told me I should tell you that you need to link me up with someone named Tony.”
“Tony?” she asked, the surprise evident. Then after a minute she must have reproduced her thinking. “Yes, that probably makes sense. This has to be handled much as you used to deal with such problems. Tony would be an effective partner for you. I’ll give him a call. Come to my place. Try to be here in an hour or so. I’ll call Jim as well.”
By the time Jake arrived, Laney was already there, looking tired and concerned. There was no sign of Tony, whoever he was.
“Give us a summary,” Carlson ordered. “There are probably some things we don’t want to discuss once Tony arrives.”
Jake explained the sequence of events for the next several days in greater detail, including what he had learned from the men Rizzo had sent after him.
“There’s no longer any doubt who Graper is really working for. We know it, but none of what we have learned can be explained to others. We also can’t try and arrest him. That would give him an opportunity to get word to those Jake is trying to prevent from learning about him.”
“What are you saying?” Laney asked.
“Jake is probably going to have to take Graper out.”
“You’re kidding?” Laney asked.
“Think about it,” Carlson said. “You’re part of our special group now. What are the consequences if Graper can talk. Jake and his family are at risk. How many lives were just saved because Jake can operate freely.”
“There must be another way?”
“Sometimes there is, but sometimes things work against us. Once, nearly eight months ago, Jake came to us with advance warning of a man’s intended actions. We stopped him, but the courts threw everything out. Said we had no basis for our raids, and there was no proof of what we claimed the man intended. We had to let him go. Within a month he re-armed and caused another massacre. Jake had to deal with it his way.”
“You’re talking about the Roscoe case, aren’t you?” Laney said. “I thought that sort of quietly went away. We scared the guy out of doing anything. I’ve never heard of the man again.”
“Nor has anyone else,” Carlson said. “Nor will they. He’s put down and buried where he won’t ever be found. We couldn’t find another way around that situation either.”
They didn’t have a chance to discuss the matter further. There was a knock at the door, and given the hour it had to be the last member of their little party. Carlson went and answered the door. A few moments later she returned with a younger man than Jake had envisioned in tow. Somehow he had thought Carlson’s contact in the covert world was going to be someone closer to her own age. The man with her was Jake’s age, if not a year or two younger.
Tony was an inch shorter than Jake, with light brown hair worn somewhat long. He had an athletic build with powerful arms and chest, and very large hands. He exuded a sense of danger, and his eyes were intense and focused, seeming to observe everything around him effortlessly.
Carlson made the introductions, introducing Jake as Bob, which made Jake wonder if Tony was the agent’s true name. No last names were offered.
“We have a situation,” she explained to Tony. “It’s the kind of thing you are used to dealing with. One of our agents is known to be dirty. We know this with absolute certainty. He has information that could threaten a very important effort within the agency, something I unfortunately am not at liberty to reve
al to you. You know how that is.”
“We know this man, Don Graper, will be meeting with a mobster named Lucio Rizzo in the morning. At that time, the information Graper carries will be passed to Rizzo, who in turn will spread it throughout his organization resulting in grave harm to a number of key people.” Carlson also explained how Graper and the Mobster Rizzo fit into the attempt on the Senator the previous year.
“You want him killed?” Tony asked bluntly. He said it matter-of-factly. Tony had been assigned to deal with problems like this at the agency before. He understood the need. He was a little surprised that Carlson would abandon her normally strict code of ethics in such matters, but he trusted her judgement. If she felt this needed to be done, then there were very sound reasons why she believed that. Besides, Tony owed her a favor of the kind one could seldom repay. He would do what he could to help her.
Carlson didn’t shy away from the question, although Laney looked distinctly uncomfortable having the idea raised so openly. Now that he knew what Jake had done in the past, he and Carlson had effectively condoned the killings Jake had performed to save other lives. This was, however, the first time they had been part of the planning of such an action.
“Arresting him wouldn’t solve the problem,” Carlson explained. “He would be free to speak, and there is little doubt the secret information in his possession would reach the wrong ears. He must be stopped before the information has a chance to spread and we lose control of the situation. Multiple lives will be at risk if we can’t stop this leak.”
“What about this mobster you mentioned?”
“We believe he is unaware of the specifics at this time, although we are still trying to verify that. It would be acceptable if he were to be dealt with at the same time as Graper. He has escaped punishment for the attempt on the Senator and Mark LoBue, and his passing would assure that anything he’s been told already didn’t spread any farther.”
“This meeting takes place in Chicago tomorrow morning?” Tony asked. “That doesn’t leave much time to plan.”
