by David Nees
He tied his belt around his left leg to support it and stem the blood flow. Could he walk? The dark thoughts gathered again, this time stronger. His options were becoming limited. Frank steeled himself to not think about how this was going to end. The game had to be played. You didn’t think about the outcome, you just played it—played your hand until it was over. Later you thought about it if you were a reflective person, which Frank was not. He always felt in control in these deadly encounters. Now that sense of control was slipping away. Would he survive this fight? Could he get back to New York? He suppressed those thoughts. Got to take Dan out. He’d think about the rest later…if he survived.
Frank rolled over and brought the AK up to his shoulder. His left hand gripped what was left of the splintered stock. He couldn’t feel the jagged edges digging into his hand which was still numb and now swollen. With his right hand he fished a fresh thirty-round magazine from his coat pocket and inserted it into the rifle. Time was not on his side; he was bleeding and losing strength. If he was going to win this game, he knew he had to finish it soon. He lurched forward, stumbling. His left leg would not work properly. His right leg with his injured knee had to do all the work to propel him forward. He moved in jerks, firing short bursts in Dan’s general direction, still not sure of his position. Suddenly he saw him and loosed a longer round from the Kalashnikov and then fell forward as his knee gave out. He heard a rustling sound ahead of him. From his knees, he looked up and saw Dan’s bloody face about thirty yards away. Dan raised his rifle. The dark thoughts flooded over Frank. Through the leaves only Dan’s face, streaked with blood, like a demon from hell, stood out clearly. Frank started to swing the AK forward to fire. Dan’s rifle was pointed at him. He saw a flash and the world disappeared.
As Frank stumbled forward shooting, a bullet from his volley sliced across Dan’s right side. He staggered back. When Frank fell, he saw his chance. Ignoring the searing pain in his side, he stepped forward to get a clear shot. As Frank looked up and moved to bring his AK into play, Dan, looking through a bloody haze, squeezed off one round. The round hit Frank high on the forehead, the bullet tumbled through his brain, tearing an increasingly large channel and burst out the back of his skull after destroying his brain stem.
Dan leaned back against a tree. His knees gave way. His breath came in shallow pants, the pain in his side growing. For a long time he just sat there, leaning against the tree, panting and looking out at the forest without focus. The sound of a siren in the distance brought him back to the moment. Can’t be found here. Got to move.
He examined his side. The flesh was torn and bleeding, but the bullet hadn’t lodged in his body. He had bruised, maybe broken ribs. He would be sore, but he was not critically injured. He took out his knife and cut off a sleeve of his shirt, making a bandanna that he wrapped around his forehead to staunch the flow of blood. Now he could see better. After some thought, he decided to leave the battlefield untouched. The only thing that could connect him to the fight would be the bullet, which he didn’t have time to find and dig out of the ground. If it was crosschecked, it would only confirm what everyone would already suspect and believed that whoever shot up the gang in Brooklyn, had killed Frank in the Massachusetts woods. He turned back to his hide to collect his backpack and head north.
Fred heard the rapid shots as he was driving to work. That wasn’t hunters. It sounded to him like a machine gun firing. Was it connected to those guys from New York? He didn’t know and he didn’t want to go to the lodge to find out. He picked up his cell phone and called the local police.
The crunch of gravel announced the arrival of a car at the lodge. Dan crept to the edge of his sniper nest. In the yard at the front of the house was a county cruiser. No one had gotten out yet. He was probably radioing back to indicate that the place looked empty. Dan crawled back from the edge and turned to go. If the cop looked carefully, he would see the broken window and evidence of shots being fired; a bullet from his rifle could be found in the wood pile, shell casings from Joey’s .45 somewhere on the porch, and the rounds inside, embedded in the walls. Pretty soon the place would be swarming with inspectors and a helicopter might be called in. Dan didn’t relish trying to navigate the woods and stay hidden from a chopper.
When he was well clear of the ridge, he made a quick call on the scrambled phone. “I’m on my way; had some trouble, parts of me are not working quite right, so it’ll take a bit longer to reach you.”
“It’s a scrambled line, you don’t have to speak in code,” Jane responded. “Are you injured?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a wound in my side, maybe a broken rib. Hurts like hell, but I’ll get there. The cops are at the scene now. A chopper may be brought in, so I’m hurrying as best I can. May be hard to get out of the area.”
“Just get here as quickly as you can and keep under cover if the copter shows up. I can take care of the rest.”
In spite of his pain, he pushed his pace. He hoped Jane was right about handling everything once he got to the car. He wasn’t at all sure his cover, or Jane’s, would survive close scrutiny. Two hours into his trek, Dan heard the helicopter in the distance behind him.
They must have found the body. They’ll start a circular search pattern, expanding from the lodge.
He called Jane again. “You hear the chopper?”
“Yeah, the vehicle is covered. I’m under some trees. I’ll be fine. How are you doing?”
“Okay. Sore, but still moving. I’m not taking the easiest path, got to stay under cover.”
“What’s your ETA?”
“Not half way there yet. We won’t get past the checkpoints before they’re set up.”
Four hours later Dan reached the rendezvous point. Jane ran to meet him. She reached up to him and took his pack.
“You are a mess,” she exclaimed.
“Sorry. I didn’t have time to clean up before arriving.”
She guided him back under the trees. There, under camouflage netting was a Chevy Suburban SUV. Jane retrieved a first aid kit from the back of the vehicle and helped Dan take off his jacket and shirt. She gave him some water to drink and a couple of energy capsules. The side wound was ugly—the skin gashed and torn in a deep channel. It would leave a big scar. Jane poured disinfectant on the gash and then applied a clotting bandage to stop the bleeding. Next she removed the bandanna. The cut above Dan’s eye was small but deep. After disinfecting the wound, Jane pinched the edges together and applied another clotting bandage.
“You look worse than you are,” she remarked.
“Thanks.”
They could hear the helicopter in the distance.
“Where do I sit?” Dan asked.
“That special place that I told you about before. It’s not too comfortable, but should work.” She opened the rear passenger door, unlatched the rear seat and folded it forward. Inside was a small cavity that Dan could curl up in.
“Good thing I don’t get claustrophobic,” he said. “What about the rifle?”
“There is a compartment in the front part of the gas tank. It’s actually a sub section of the tank, so nothing can be seen from the outside. I’ll put your rifle in there.”
“Okay, what about explaining your presence in the area?”
“Look in the back. Remember, I’ve been camping. That’s what I actually do with my vacation days so it’s an easy ruse. I’ve got all the right gear. You didn’t know I was such an outdoor girl, did you?” She smiled at Dan.
He shrugged as he struggled into the seat compartment.
“When we’re past the checkpoints, I’ll get you out. You won’t have to ride all the way to New York in there.” Jane closed the seat down over him. Then she pulled off the netting, packed it away, climbed into the driver’s seat and drove down the trail to the road.
Chapter 54
Jane drove east on Route 2 and ran into a checkpoint where the road joined the Deerfield River. Her story was accepted without question as the state police searched
the SUV. There was another checkpoint just before they entered Charlemont.
A look through the SUV showed nothing unusual. The police passed her through with an admonition to not pick up any hitchhikers as there had been a shooting recently in the area. Duly admonished, she drove off. Before reaching Greenfield, Jane pulled off at a secluded spot to let Dan out of his hiding place. It was a slow process. Dan had stiffened up and could hardly unwind from his cramped position. When they reached Greenfield they got on I-91 and headed south.
They stayed on I-91 all the way down through Connecticut to I-95. Jane sought the anonymity of the interstate, and every mile they put between them and the shootout reduced their chance of being discovered. Dan drifted in and out of sleep during the drive.
After a long silence, Jane said, “I don’t want to know anything about today. That’s your business and I don’t want to get into it any more than I have.”
“Deniability?”
“Exactly. I’m on pretty shaky ground already if everything came to light. My career would probably be over and I might be facing jail time. But if my plan works out, I’ll…we’ll be able to do some good and all this crap will be forgotten.”
“And remain a mystery?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m banking on.”
As evening set in, Jane stopped at a rest area on I-95 to check Dan’s wounds. She parked away from other cars and checked him out with a small flashlight, avoiding the SUV’s interior lights. Satisfied, she set out again. The SUV had an extra large capacity tank so they would not have to stop for gas.
“Where are we going?” Dan finally asked. “Are you going to drop me off in Brooklyn?”
“Not on your life,” Jane replied. “We’re going to a safe house in New Jersey. It’s north of the city. We’ll take the Tappan Zee Bridge. I want you to stay there while you recover from your injuries.”
They arrived at the house at midnight. Jane pulled into the garage and lowered the door before getting out of the SUV. They entered the house. The drapes were all drawn. Jane went to the bar in the kitchen, took out a bottle of Knob Creek Limited Edition whiskey and poured two glasses, handing one to Dan.
Dan took a sip of the expensive bourbon. “You guys live quite well. This is good whiskey.”
“We try. Nothing but the best for our agents. Now let’s take that shirt off so I can see what we’ve got.” She reached over to help Dan who now could hardly raise his arm above his head.
“You a doctor as well as a spy?” Dan asked.
“This isn’t my first field op. I’ve got some experience.” She opened a bottle of pills. “Here, take two of these.”
Dan shook his head. “Don’t want to be drugged. I’d rather have the pain.”
“These aren’t for the pain, they’re for the swelling.” She thrust the pills into his hands.
“Now we’ll stay here for a few days to get you in better shape. I also don’t want you around Brooklyn for a while.”
“You’re beginning to sound like a boss.”
Jane just looked at him without responding.
“I’ve still got something to finish. It didn’t get done back there at the lodge.”
“Joey?”
Dan nodded.
“I don’t want to know any more.” Jane put up her hand. “But this is getting to be dangerous…for both of us. You can’t keep dragging this out much longer.” She turned to go into the kitchen. “Look, I’m going to heat up some pasta; the house comes stocked with supplies so no one has to go out. Sit. You must be hungry. We can talk while I make something to eat.”
“Hungry and tired. It’s been a hard three days.”
“But you’re up to it, right?”
“I got through it. You deal with whatever happens and complete the mission. But I’m near the end. Tell me more about the job. What happens after I accept your offer?”
“Like I said in our first conversation, I’ll take you to a training facility. They do all the training for field agents. They won’t have any idea of exactly what you’re involved in. They aren’t expected to know and don’t want to know. They just train you. I’ll warn you it isn’t easy, but you made it through sniper school so you should be all right. I made it through the training if that’s any encouragement.”
Dan eyed her critically. He figured her to be in good shape, but didn’t connect her mention of field work with what he expected was some hard training. For the first time he noticed that her eyes had a green tint to them. They almost shone as she stared calmly back at him. She was, he concluded, quite an attractive woman but she probably put off a lot of men with her strong, confident demeanor. Jane looked back at him steadily. He could tell she knew he was re-evaluating her.
“After the basic training, you’ll get advanced training in disguises. We’ll work out multiple identities for you, complete with background cover and all the documents to go anywhere you need to go. We’ll have identities set up with disguises and without disguises. You’ll be a shadow figure—a figure with many different looks. That will take some practice and training. It can be confusing to manage multiple identities. I’m afraid that may be the most grueling part of the training. It’s class work and memorization with exacting teachers.”
“How long before you would send me out?”
“Six months at least. Remember we’ve never done this to the extent we’re going to now. We hope six months, but if it takes longer, I’ll buy us time.”
“Us…?”
She turned from the stove and reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Yes, it’s us from now on. We’ll be partners. I’ll trust your insights and decisions from the field and you’ll have to learn to trust me to provide support and cover for you when and where I can.”
Dan felt a sharp wave of electricity surge up his arm. Where did that come from? “I thought you said I’d be on my own.”
“I did. But I can and will provide field support where possible. The people helping you won’t know who you are or what your mission is. That’s standard practice. They’ll just do what they’re called to do.”
“Unless there is a screw up.” They were now looking directly at each other, the world outside fading away as they conversed.
“If you get caught, I can’t help you. I can’t acknowledge your existence or connection to the U.S. Nothing in your identities will prove that connection. Others will suspect, due to the quality of your documents, but nothing, including the funds you will use, will track back to the agency. Of course, I will do everything I can to keep you out of that situation.”
“You’re all heart.”
Jane gave him a wry smile. “This is a tough world. It’s sometimes brutal and unforgiving. I don’t sugar coat it and I don’t gloss over its dangers. If I let my guard down, you could die. If you let your guard down, you could die. But you’d have to live like that anyway, on the run, as I’ve said before.”
“What about the FBI? You take care of them?”
“I did. Here is where you need to trust me. I can’t get into the conversation, but Mike Warner will bury your part of all this action as a figment he created to mislead the mob. Yes, someone shot up the mob, shot up Vincent’s house, but Mike will say he encouraged the story that it was you in order to create pressure on Vincent. He will theorize it was a disgruntled associate and he just used the events to his advantage. He’ll have his victory when he turns Vincent and you can disappear.”
“And you trust him?”
“I have some insurance in place that lets me trust him to do his part. I don’t take anything for granted.”
Dan thought for a moment. “I’ll bet he didn’t like that.”
“No, but he saw what was going to be good for him—for his career. He’ll do his part.”
“Looks like things are getting near the end,” Dan said finally.
“I hope so…for both our sakes.”
Dan barely got some food in him before he began to nod off. Jane helped him into a bed and went back
to the kitchen and poured herself another whiskey. She sat late into the night thinking about what she had just done and what she had committed to. It was part of the plan, but she couldn’t shake some other feelings that arose in her.
Chapter 55
When Joey got back to Brooklyn, he went to the Gardens to talk to Vincent. Joey could hardly contain his rage. He didn’t know exactly what was going on but his instincts told him he had been set up.
“Joey, what are you doing back?” Vincent eyes widened, seeing Joey enter his back room. “Where’s Frank? I told him to stay out of town until I called.”
“Yeah, well things got uncomfortable at the lodge, so I decided to leave,” Joey snarled.
“So where’s Frank?”
“I left him there.”
“You left him there, why the fuck did you do that? How’s he supposed to get back?”
Joey walked up to the table, put his hands on it, and leaned forward. “Vincent, what’s going on? Was I set up?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Set up?” Joey struggled to control himself. Vincent stayed seated. He looked a bit nervous at Joey’s aggressive attitude. “What happened at the lodge?”
“Dan was there, he tried to kill me, but he missed. I swear Frank set me up. Now what’s going on?” Joey pressed closer to Vincent. “I’ve worked hard for you, been a good earner. I’ve been loyal. I may have fucked up with Dan’s restaurant, but I made up for that. Didn’t I get in line? Didn’t I increase my earnings? Now tell me what’s going on.”
Vincent stared back at Joey. “Calm down, Joey. Nobody set you up. I don’t know how Dan found you. Most of the crew knew where you were, maybe someone said something out on the street, and it got back to Tommy. You know he’s talking to Dan. Sit down and tell me what happened. Is Frank still out there?”
