Counter-Strike (A Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Novel Book 2)

by JT Sawyer

  Von nodded and grinned. “Mitch, I know about every dirty trick there is for smuggling people in and out of this country. This is your lucky day.”

  Mitch looked at the massive brown-and-blue bruise forming on his forearm and felt the contusion on his forehead then glanced back at Redstrom’s body against the backdrop of flames. “I’ll take luck over skill any time but today we sure as hell had plenty of both.”

  Chapter 43

  Two days later, Mitch spent the afternoon with Bob and Margo at their hotel in Tel Aviv. She had arrived the day before after hearing the good news and Mitch needed to go over Bob’s cover story regarding what unfolded in Indonesia. He didn’t want Gideon, Marco, or himself connected with the rescue efforts and they spent several hours rehearsing Bob’s story of escape. After parting with hugs, Mitch drove across Tel Aviv and showed up at the Leitner household with two bouquets of fresh flowers. After greeting Eva, she led him into the rear bedroom where Dev was convalescing from her wound. She was resting on her side, her hands folded under her cheek as she slept. Mitch placed the flowers on the nightstand next to her and sat in the chair. His eyes traced the outline of her lovely face and he leaned forward to brush a strand of raven hair from her nose. Dev’s eyelids opened and she inhaled deeply, craning her head up towards the flowers then back towards Mitch.

  “Why, what a kind gesture, sir.”

  “I thought of bringing chocolate but didn’t know if you were a fan.”

  “Oh, there’s so much to learn about me—I’m a chocolate addict. You just haven’t seen that side of me yet as I’ve cut down a lot.”

  “Coffee and chocolate—you can’t have too much of either in my opinion.”

  “I live on too much caffeine at work.” She winced as she turned onto her back. “Fuck—work. I’ve got some catching up to do.”

  “And plenty of explaining as well, I reckon.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that too. I’m supposed to take off the rest of this week—doctor’s orders—but I may try to go in tomorrow. I just don’t care what the board says anymore. Somehow I am going to make my father’s company into a place that he would be proud of under my direction without losing myself in the process. I have to just hold on longer until things smooth out with this transition.” She wriggled her body slightly to adjust her position to better face Mitch. “I also need to be in the field working on occasion and have to figure out a way to make that happen. I can’t be deskbound the rest of my days.”

  He moved up, leaning over her. “What about bed-bound?”

  She blushed and put her hand on his chest. “My mother’s in the next room and I’m a good Israeli girl or have you forgotten. Besides, you...”

  He pressed his lips against hers and she grew quiet. After a few seconds, she moved her head to the side. “Mmm…that’s almost as good as chocolate,” she said with a laugh then pulled him back. “Let me check for sure.”

  Mitch slid onto the side of the bed and hugged her while continuing to kiss her tender lips. She winced as he touched her bandage by accident, causing them both to separate. “You know, when you’re feeling better, I’ve got a mind to snatch you away from this country and take you back to the States for a little vacation.”

  She chuckled. “Usually, I’m the one snatching people out of other countries but,” she held a finger up to her temple as if she was pondering the offer, “in this instance, I might let you.” As he moved closer to kiss her, she pressed her hand into his chest again. “But, no hammocks, or leeches, or bugs. We’re staying in a hotel with running water and a pool.”

  He moved her hand aside, taking it into his while kissing her softly. “And room service. I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight much.”

  Chapter 44

  Four days later, Von found himself sitting in Natalie Quint’s office at Langley. His typed report was sitting on her spacious desk as she flipped through each page, pausing every few pages to give him a scrutinizing glance. He alternated between trying to read her expressions and looking out of the large windows to his right, relishing the sight of the seagulls flying freely.

  “There’s some pretty damming evidence here against Crenna—a man with an illustrious thirty-year career. Not that I’m disagreeing with what you wrote. The man was running his own Wild West show for a long time it seems.” She looked up from the paper while leaning back in her leather chair. “Who else has seen this report?”

  “Just yourself.”

  “Von, some of this report will need to be redacted to protect national security.”

  “Which parts exactly?”

  “The part about our bioweapons research for one and Crenna’s involvement in the cover-up of his nefarious doings. This agency doesn’t need a scandal flooding the news headlines. We’ve uncovered Anton Tokarev’s connection to Redstrom as his potential funding source but it’s all tenuous so it looks like he’s the one who gets off scot-free. ” She tapped her silver pen furiously on the desk.

  “But Crenna was the sole reason all of this unfolded in the first place with Redstrom and the virus—a virus that could have decimated an entire region and possibly spread throughout the rest of the world.”

  “Ah, Von, people outside of these walls don’t need to know what ingredients go into making up our modern reality. There are too many disturbing details. It’s our job—yours and mine and the other agents’—to make sure these things never pose a threat so our fellow Americans can get a good night’s sleep.”

  Von was silent, looking at her then down at the report while balling his fist in his palm.

  She stood up and walked around her desk, her black high heels, which resembled gondolas, clacking on the tiled floor. Quint moved in front of him and sat on the edge of her desk. “You know, Von, I think the agency has underestimated your abilities and prowess. Someone like you shouldn’t be consigned strictly to field ops.” She stood and walked around him then returned to her seat. “I’m going to reassign you to a senior case officer position in Europe—a change of station may do you some good. That is, unless you want to keep beating up your body in the tropics.”

  “That’s…uhm…” Von paused then looked up at her. “That’s very considerate of you, ma’am.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “There’s just one matter I need clarification on.”

  “By all means.”

  “So, this hit squad that Crenna sent to the lab—their attack provide you and Schueller with enough of a distraction to escape and get out on the helicopter which you then flew to Jakarta?”

  “That’s right. Redstrom must have had the entire lab rigged to blow. We barely made it out of there alive.”

  “I see.” She slid her reading glasses back on and flipped through the last few pages of his report again.

  “And there weren’t any data files retrieved from the lab in the jungle—from Crenna when he died—no other witnesses who could be a security risk?”

  Von squeezed his fist again and slid back in his chair. “No. As noted, we had to make a hasty exfil under fire. There was little time to stop and gather intel or items from the base.”

  Quint removed her glasses, dangling them around in her fingers. “You do realize that if anyone was privy to what happened in Sweden and Indonesia they could expose the agency. There’d be no safe haven for a person like that no matter how far they ran.”

  “Yes, ma’am, they would need to be hunted down without question.”

  The silence sliced through Von’s psyche and he moved forward, resting his hands on his knees. Quint turned her chin up slightly, her eyes scanning the ceiling then shooting back down at Von. “Tell you what, why don’t you take the week off and rest up. We can discuss the details of your new position next Tuesday before you relocate.”

  He nodded and stood up, twirling his fingers to release the cramps. “I will do that, thank you.” She reached out and shook his hand, gripping it for a long moment with a considerable squeeze. Quint walked with him to the door, op
ening it, the immense logo of the CIA on the wall in the waiting room shining before him. “And Von, mull over some of the things we talked about.”

  “I certainly will.”

  Epilogue

  At the end of the week, Mitch was sitting in his favorite sushi restaurant in downtown Tel Aviv. He had just gotten off the phone with Marco, who was lying low back in Kuala Lumpur and waiting for the right time to go back in and retrieve his plane from the remote jungle airfield.

  Mitch had another round of mantracking courses to teach for the Israeli military before his contract was up and he was trying to find a way to enjoy the urban setting, though the large city, throngs of people, and grating sounds were beginning to wear thin.

  Mitch was dining at this particular restaurant today for a meeting and he had his back to the wall, facing the entrance as he always did out of habit. Looking up from his plate of futomaki, he saw a lanky figure enter and move in a straight line towards him then sit down at the table next to him. Though the man was clad in a long coat and low baseball cap, he recognized the gait pattern instantly. Even though he was expecting the visit, Mitch shifted slightly, making sure the tactical blade on his right side was accessible for a quick draw.

  The man held up a menu, staring blankly at the words while speaking. “I was always told eating uncooked fish was a health hazard,” Von said.

  Mitch lowered his hand towards his knife. “I’d be worried about other bodily concerns to be honest. There are just too many other things which can kill you in this world.”

  “After all we’ve been through and you still don’t trust me.”

  Mitch took a toothpick out of its wrapper and needled out a piece of fish from between his teeth. “I trust you plenty, kid. It’s your employers that worry me.”

  “I was just passing through and thought we could catch up on old times,” he said with a chuckle.

  Mitch shoved a wad of food from his chopsticks into his mouth, never taking his eyes off of Von. He removed a padded manila envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table to Von.

  “This kind of work will eat you up and I ain’t just talking about your body,” said Mitch. “Our government doesn’t give a shit about you or me. Their concern for you only extends as far as their agenda demands.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He tucked the envelope in his jacket and nodded at the petite waitress who was approaching. “I’m afraid I have to leave. I just got an unexpected call.” She turned around and walked away as Von got up, straightening his rumpled sleeves. “I doubt we’ll ever see each other again but I will not forget what you did.”

  “You’re a good man, Von, whether you know it or not.” He smiled and waved two fingers. “I don’t care what my friends say about you.”

  Von returned to his blue Audi with the dark-tinted windows on the third level of a nearby parking structure. He scanned his surroundings before getting inside then unfurled the manila envelope and slid out the device. The encryption on Jessica Yin’s cellphone would still be able to be hacked and provide him with the server address that he needed to wrap up this final leg of his objective. Using a stolen laptop, he used a cable to connect the phone then slid in a disk that uploaded the malware necessary to crack the code. A few minutes later, he had the routing number and then he pulled out Redstrom’s flash drive that he had removed from the jungle lab. All of the files implicating Crenna, Redstrom, and Yin were uploaded to the phone.

  Von routed the phone’s server identification through the darknet linkup on the laptop and typed in the GPS coordinates for a Russian yacht, which was anchored in the Mediterranean Sea near Malta. He took a deep breath and then pressed the send button, the message being delivered to the editor of the Washington Post courtesy of Anton Tokarev.

  ***

  Mitch finished his meal and swigged down the rest of his water then paid the bill at the counter. He walked out, glancing both ways before getting on his motorcycle. He looked up at the skyline around him and shook his head while putting on his helmet. “God, I hate big cities.” As he merged into traffic and sped off, he thought of the mesas and canyons of Arizona. Just one more teaching gig here and then I’m free for a few months. Then maybe I can convince Dev about opening a U.S. branch in Arizona.

  He rode through the streets, his motorcycle gliding along the winding pavement that led towards Haifa and Mount Carmel National Park, inhaling the sweet fragrance of cedar trees and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.

  Thank you for reading this book. Join Mitch Kearns in book three, The Kill List, now available for pre-order on Amazon.

  Join JT Sawyer’s Facebook page to follow his book research and updates. If you would like to receive information on survival tips, please sign up for my email notices at author@jtsawyer.com or by visiting http://www.jtsawyer.com

  About the Author: JT Sawyer is the pen name for Tony Nester who makes his living teaching survival courses for the military special operations community, Department of Homeland Security, US Marshals, FAA, and other federal agencies throughout the US. He has over 25 years of experience testing long-term survival skills in the desert, mountains, and forest. JT also served as a consultant for the film Into the Wild.

  Post-Apocalyptic Fiction by JT Sawyer

  First Wave

  The Longest Day

  No Place to Hide

  Hell Week

  Until Morning Comes

  Non-Fiction Survival Books by Tony Nester:

  Survival Gear You Can Live With

  Bug-Out Gear for Travelers

  A Vehicle Survival Kit You Can Live With

  When the Grid Goes Down: Disaster Gear and Survival Preparations for Making Your Home Self-Reliant

  The Modern Hunter-Gatherer: A Practical Guide to Living Off the Land

  Bushcraft Tips & Tools

  Life Under Open Skies: Adventures in Bushcraft