Change of Heart by Jack Allen

by Unknown

  The bridge had two entrances, the rear door through which they came, and a side door, which was open. The bridge was empty. Without a crewman to steer, the wheel drifted lazily to the left, then to the right.

  “I’m gonna steer us back to that dock,” Josh said as he hol-Change of Heart

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  stered his pistol. “Don’t let anyone come up those stairs.” Jerry nodded. Josh grabbed the wheel and turned the yacht around. With his back to Josh, Jerry never saw the man come through the side door and crack Josh over the back of his head with his Uzi. He heard it, and felt the yacht surge forward. When he turned around, Josh was on the floor. The man had his foot on Josh’s chest and the barrel of the Uzi pressed to Josh’s cheek.

  Josh’s eyes were closed. He barely looked alive. His lip was split open and there was blood down the front of his shirt.

  The man glared at Jerry with his teeth clenched.

  “Drop it or I’ll waste your friend,” the man shouted. Jerry hesitated. “Don’t fuck with me!”

  Jerry glanced past him out the front window of the bridge.

  What he saw alarmed him, but he tried not to let it show on his face. Josh must have fallen forward on the throttle because they rushed toward the dock at top speed. The security people scattered. Jerry wasn’t sure what would happen when they hit, but he knew they were going to hit hard.

  The man had his back to the window. Jerry had to make sure he held his attention.

  “All right. I’m putting it down.”

  In his left hand he held out the Uzi, slowly lowering it to the floor. With his right hand he grabbed the edge of the door frame, hoping the entire structure didn’t collapse on impact.

  The guy never took his eyes off Jerry until the last second when the lights of the dock flashed through the window. His head swivelled around to see what the light was at the same instant the yacht rammed the dock. He never had time to scream. The sound of the crash was deafening. The man vaulted head first through the large plate glass window.

  The door frame held up, but Jerry didn’t. He lost his grip and slid across the floor, colliding with the control console on the forward bulkhead. Anything that wasn’t bolted down, and a few things that were, fell on top of Josh. The wooden dock groaned and Jerry heard the sound of steel wrenching open. The yacht slid backward a few feet, then stopped.

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  Jerry scrambled to his feet, searching for the Uzi. He found it wedged under the console. Josh was already digging himself out from under the pile of debris and Jerry went to help.

  “You all right?”

  Josh got up to one knee, rubbing the back of his head.

  “I’ve been better.”

  He got to his feet, looking around. The interior of the ship was trashed. The antenna mast collapsed and lay over the forward deck. The bow had carved a neat wedge in the wooden dock and the thick timbers ripped open the hull. Water rushed in. The forward half of the yacht was up on the dock and pointed up at the night sky. The car they used to get to the boat in the first place had ripped loose, tumbled over the finished mahogany deck, and dangled over the port side, half on the yacht and half off.

  Josh shook his head.

  “There’s gonna be a lot of paperwork for this.” The sound of gunfire made them duck behind the console.

  Josh drew his pistol from the shoulder holster under his jacket.

  None of the bullets hit the yacht, however. Josh peeked over the edge of the shattered window.

  “It’s those guys who were shooting at us. They’re firing on the dock security,” he said. In the distance they heard police sirens.

  “It’s gonna get interesting now. Come on, we still got work to do.”

  Jerry went with Josh out the side door, away from the gunfire.

  Jerry’s heart was pumping. He hadn’t been this excited since he saw action in the desert, and compared to what he’d been through in the last hour or so, his experiences with war were pretty calm.

  They went down the stairs and Josh stopped. Jerry bumped into him. One of the men on the dock caught a mooring line that was tied to a cleat on the bow and must have gone over the side in the crash. He tied the other end to a post on the dock and was scaling the rope, about halfway up, hanging upside down over the water like a raccoon. An Uzi dangled from a strap on his back.

  Josh raised his pistol and aimed. The man saw him and Change of Heart

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  climbed faster. Jerry couldn’t believe he would have the nerve to shoot a helpless guy like that, until Josh fired and the rope frayed and snapped about a foot above the man’s hands. The expression on his face as he dropped into the water still holding the rope made Jerry want to laugh, but he didn’t for fear of getting yelled at by Josh.

  Josh, however, turned to Jerry and snickered.

  “Man, that guy was dumb,” he said, and went to the aft deck.

  Jerry went after him, even more confused about his partner.

  The sliding glass doors to the cabin at the rear were still intact.

  Inside, a man came out toward them with an Uzi. Josh saw him first and fired two shots through the glass before the man could raise the Uzi. Both shots hit him in the chest and he went down.

  The large panel of glass in the sliding door shattered on the deck like a sheet of crashing water. He and Jerry shielded their faces with their hands.

  What Josh did next surprised Jerry. His pistol locked open on an empty chamber. He ejected the clip, which fell from the handle of the gun and landed in the pile of broken glass. He reached under his jacket for the holster, then patted each of his pockets.

  “Damn,” he said. He picked up the empty clip, jammed it back into the gun, and released the catch. “Watch my back,” he said, and went through the broken door.

  Josh was about to reach for the Uzi of the guy he just shot when a man Jerry recognized from the dinner party appeared from the stairs that led to the lower decks.

  His name was Maury VanBriekenbock. He looked distinguished in his black Armani suit with his silver hair gelled back.

  His face had the sharp features of a hawk, and he had a nickel plated Italian 9mm automatic pointed at Josh. He looked desperate and much less sophisticated than he did at the party. When he saw him, Josh forgot about the Uzi and raised his pistol at Maury.

  “McGowan, how could you do this to me?” VanBriekenbock 26

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  said. “I thought I could trust you.” Jerry wondered what he meant. Apparently these two had a history he was not aware of. Jerry knew Josh worked undercover for a long time, but he had no idea he was that deep.

  “It’s got nothing to do with trust, Maury. Drop the gun and let’s talk about it,” Josh said.

  Both men faced each other with their pistols extended at arm’s length.

  Maury noticed Jerry, who stood behind Josh with the Uzi.

  “Who are you, McGowan? You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

  “Close enough. Just put it down, Maury. We can talk about this.”

  VanBriekenbock seemed to hesitate, then lowered his arm.

  Josh quickly stepped forward and took the pistol from his hands.

  “We have nothing to talk about. You’ve betrayed me,” VanBriekenbock said in a defeated voice.

  “It’s my job, Maury. Don’t give me any grief. Now tell me how you’re doing it.”

  Jerry listened while Josh put his own gun back in his shoulder holster and pointed the Italian 9mm at Maury. This was the culmi-nation of months of investigation by Josh and his partners. They knew for a long time VanBriekenbock was smuggling technology out of the country, but they didn’t know how he did it. Jerry was dying to find out himself.

  However, VanBriekenbock said nothing. Josh stood with his hands on his hips. Jerry remembered the swarm of men on the dock. The shooting had stopped, but Jerry didn’t know what that meant. He hoped the good guys won. Josh didn’t appear too concerned.

  “All right, Maury,
let’s see if we can solve your little puzzle.”

  Josh grabbed VanBriekenbock by the arm and dragged him down the stairs to the lower deck. Jerry went down behind them.

  He wasn’t about to miss this. They would deal with the security guards later.

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  Josh threw VanBriekenbock on the couch. VanBriekenbock’s lips were sealed tight. Jerry stood at the bottom of the stairs where he could see Josh and VanBriekenbock and anyone coming down.

  “What should I try first?” Josh said, but still VanBriekenbock did not speak.

  Josh looked around the cabin. Jerry wasn’t sure what he was looking for. It looked like an ordinary room, decorated like a comfortable living room with chairs and a sofa and paintings on the walls, although most of it was dumped over.

  “Let’s try the safe,” Josh said.

  He went to a picture on the far wall and pulled the frame, which swung aside on a hinge like a cabinet door. Josh looked at the wall safe behind it, then at VanBriekenbock.

  “Am I getting close, Maury?”

  “You’ll never get it open,” VanBriekenbock said.

  Jerry immediately felt defeated. He was right, of course, there was no way they could open that safe.

  Josh sighed.

  “You never did think much of me, did you, Maury?” He spun the tumblers. Jerry wondered if he was trying to pull off a bluff a second time.

  “There’s nothing in it,” VanBriekenbock said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

  Josh stopped and looked at him.

  “There’s only one way to find that out,” he said.

  He turned the lever and the safe opened with a thunk. Jerry could read VanBriekenbock’s last hopes falling by the look of horror on his face.

  Josh reached into the safe and pulled out a black velvet pouch, carried it to VanBriekenbock and set it on the table. VanBriekenbock stared at it like it was a bloody knife.

  “Am I warm now, Maury?” Josh said.

  He tucked VanBriekenbock’s Italian 9mm into his belt and squatted beside the table to open the pouch, and dumped the contents on the table. A handful of small, glittering diamonds 28

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  scattered on the polished wooden surface. VanBriekenbock stared straight ahead, his face set in stone, but Jerry was dazzled. Josh picked one up to examine it closely.

  Jerry heard footsteps on the deck above.

  “Someone’s coming,” he said, his voice a loud hiss.

  Josh was unperturbed. He set the first diamond down and picked up a few others, holding them close to his eye in his open palm.

  “Relax. That’ll be Alwayne and some friends,” Josh said.

  His voice was calm and even and Jerry was instantly reassured.

  He lowered the Uzi. The footsteps got closer and Alwayne appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “You guys have had a busy day,” he said as he came down.

  Behind him were two men in plain suits with badges hanging from the breast pockets of their jackets. Jerry stood aside when he saw they were FBI agents. Behind them came a pair of men in blue uniforms and black boots with bullet proof vests carrying Heckler & Koch sub-machine guns. One of the FBI agents took the Uzi from him.

  Josh seemed indifferent.

  “Hi, Alwayne,” he said without looking up. “Glad you could make it, Selewski.”

  He set the few diamonds in his hand aside and picked up a few others.

  “What’d you find, McGowan?” Selewski said.

  He was a short man with straight blonde hair and a face that looked like it was red all the time.

  “Nothing yet,” Josh replied. He stood up and went through VanBriekenbock’s coat pockets. “I know I’ll find it, though.” He looked directly at VanBriekenbock, who stared past him at the wall. Jerry wondered what he was looking for. If he knew what it was, why didn’t he know where to find it?

  Alwayne kicked one of the overturned chairs.

  “You never do anything subtly, do you, Josh?”

  “On my pay? Are you kidding?” Josh said.

  He found something in VanBriekenbock’s coat pocket. Jerry Change of Heart

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  didn’t see what it was until he put it in his eye. It was a jewel-ler’s eyepiece. Josh picked up a handful of diamonds and sifted through them in his palm, gazing through the eyepiece.

  “You better find something, McGowan, or there’ll be hell to pay for all this,” Selewski said.

  He seemed to be the one in charge now. He and Josh did all the grunt work, then this Fed came in and took over the show, getting all the credit. And Jerry was pushed aside, the kid who didn’t know better. Typical.

  “Try this,” Josh said.

  He held up his palm and handed Selewski the eyepiece.

  Selewski put the eyepiece in his eye and looked down at the diamonds. He was quiet for a minute while he examined them.

  What was it? Jerry was anxious to know. Above, he heard the sounds of shuffling feet and murmured voices and from below the soft groan of the hull as the gentle movement of the water rubbed it against the dock.

  “I’ll be damned,” Selewski said. He handed the eyepiece to Alwayne. “I’d never have believed it.” He turned to the other agents. “Take Van-, Van Brick-and-brack, or whatever his name is, take him in for questioning.”

  Alwayne whistled. He took the eyepiece out of his eye.

  “You knew this all the time, didn’t you, you bastard,” Alwayne said with a laugh and slapped Josh’s shoulder. “You owe me for that damn car.”

  He laughed again and went up the stairs. A pair of agents hauled VanBriekenbock out.

  “Jer, come here. I know you’re dying to see this,” Josh said.

  He handed the eyepiece to Jerry. Jerry put it to his eye and looked down at the diamonds in Josh’s palm.

  “What am I looking for? Oh,” he said when he saw it.

  One of the diamonds had a flaw. To the naked eye it was a tiny black dot among all the shining facets. Magnified, the tiny black dot became a microchip.

  “Computer chips? He’s stealing chips?” 30

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  Josh collected all the diamonds and put them back in the pouch.

  “Not just the chip, but what’s on the chip. Whatever information he wants to steal he digitizes, writes to a chip, or several chips, then transports the diamonds legally to whoever paid for the info.”

  “Oh,” Jerry said. It seemed so simple. “So what’s on that chip?”

  Josh handed the pouch to one of the agents.

  “Just a set of algorithms, I think. Nothing too complicated.”

  “Who’d have a use for that?”

  Josh shrugged.

  “Anyone who might want to, say, plot the trajectory of an object in motion back to its source, like a sub-launched missile, for example.”

  “Oh.”

  Jerry went up the stairs with Josh. They looked at Alwayne’s car, laying upside down on the port gunwale. A crane on the dock moved in to lift it off. A dozen or so FBI agents scoured the yacht, cataloging every single item, including every shell casing and dead body.

  “You did a good job tonight,” Josh said.

  He had his hands in his pockets and kicked a piece of broken wood.

  “Thanks,” Jerry smiled.

  He looked at his partner. That warrior was gone, and the simple, timid man had returned. It was like a transformation from Mr. Hyde back to Dr. Jekyll. Josh nodded toward the car.

  “I don’t do this kind of thing every day.”

  “Thank God.”

  Chapter 2

  Three cars in one night. Josh drove the outskirts of Baltimore to the Naval airbase in Annapolis. A personal record, if he remembered correctly. He wrecked one car and risked people’s lives when he could have let the van go and simply called the police to pull it over. He acted out of anger instead of using his head.

  He wrecked the other car with a crazy stunt when he could have
called the harbor patrol to stop the yacht.

  Walt would not be pleased. Not only did he disobey a direct order to leave immediately in the first place, he was now terribly late. He’d get chewed out for that, then he’d be expected to be a key part in whatever mission they planned. That pretty much shot his weekend. He had hoped to spend it with his brother in Philly. There must be someone else they could assign to this job.

  Why him? And why did he always get stuck with the dirty jobs no one else wanted?

  The Naval airbase was accessible only by a single guarded gate.

  Josh showed his identification at the gate and the Shore Patrol guard, who looked at him funny, waved him through. Navy fighters took off over his head as he drove to a squat building adjacent to the hangars. As he got out, a young Navy officer came out of the building and ran up to the car.

  “Is that my plane warming up?” Josh asked.

  Sitting in front of the hangar with its lights flashing and its engines running was the U.S. Naval Intelligence’s twelve passenger Lear jet. Beside it sat a pair of U.S. Navy F-14 jet fighters with 31

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  skull and crossbones on the upright tail rudders, the insignia of the Jolly Rogers.

  “I don’t believe so, sir,” the ensign replied.

  He gave Josh a funny look, too. Josh noticed, but didn’t pay any attention. He was puzzled by the ensign’s answer. Maybe Walt was going to send him out on a commercial jet. If so, he wouldn’t be pleased. Few things were more relaxing than a leisurely flight on that Lear jet.

  “Are you all right, sir?”

  “Fine, why?”

  “You’re bleeding, sir.”

  Josh groaned inwardly and touched his lip where it was sore.

  Now he understood why the ensign and the Shore Patrol officer looked at him funny. He probably looked like he had been in a fight.

  “I’ll be fine,” Josh said, hoping to cover his embarrassment.

  “Of course, sir. The colonel is waiting for you inside,” the ensign said.