The Morgenstern Project

by David Khara

  “Crystal clear.”

  “If you prove to be half as talented as my subordinates claim you are, you’ll be a top recruit.”

  With perfect timing, Sergeant Howard burst down the corridor. He stopped in front of Neville and stood at attention.

  The man was born to do this, Neville thought. He gave the sergeant a nod.

  “Colonel, your driver sent me to remind you of your meeting with the prime minister,” Howard barked.

  “Colonel?” Starlin inquired, stunned.

  Neville stood up and put on his hat. “Colonel Neville Wladowski, at your service.”

  “Wladowski? You’re Polish?”

  “Yes, on my father’s side,” Neville confirmed as he gave the prisoner a wink. He suppressed a smile when he saw the stupefied look on Stefan Starlin’s face. He turned around and walked back down the corridor.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow on the training field, soldier.”

  “Ah, so you’ll be running my training sessions too?”

  Neville had already vanished in the darkness.

  “No, soldier. I’ll be training along with you. I’ll be at your side.”

  “Excuse me?” Starlin yelled. The man was completely confused.

  “Of course,” Neville replied. “We’ll be parachuting into Poland together.”

  Chapter 17

  New York, present day

  The black Audi A6 came out of the Holland Tunnel. Jeremy hadn’t been in Manhattan since the sale of his wildly expensive apartment next to the Guggenheim Museum. That was a lifetime ago, when he was willing to sacrifice even his dignity at the altar of the gods of finance.

  Light was filtering over the tops of the West Street high-rises that towered above the thick commuter traffic. Eytan could see that it would be a gray day. For the past two hours, he had been driving the first of two rental cars.

  They hadn’t gotten off to a smooth start. Jeremy had insisted that Jackie and he ride in his vehicle. Jackie was biting her nails and muttering second thoughts after handing Annie over to Greg, who had assured her that he had frequently fed, burped, and changed two nieces while telling them all about She-Hulk and Power Girl. Eli, meanwhile, had argued that he needed a core group of commandos to ride with Eytan, because they hadn’t finished strategizing. Impatient to get going, Eytan had given in to Jeremy but regretted his decision as soon as the man started bombarding him with questions. He had spent most of the drive talking to Eli on his cell phone, leaving the former trader in the dark. Avi, meanwhile, seemed to be the only member of the group who couldn’t care less. All he wanted was the decent cup of coffee that had been promised him when they reached New York.

  They were to meet Simon Attali’s informant on the High Line, an elevated railroad spur running along the Lower West Side that had been transformed into a pedestrian pathway lined with flowers and shrubbery. The meeting was set for two in the afternoon at Tenth Avenue and Seventeenth Street, close to the Chelsea Market.

  Eytan was leading his team toward the Maritime, a boutique hotel with porthole-like windows. The building was around the corner from their meeting spot. The giant had booked three standard single rooms, one for himself and two for Eli and Avi, who still hadn’t recovered from their jet lag, along with a double for Jackie and Jeremy, who were equally exhausted from everything they had been through.

  They had seven hours until the meetup. Eytan decided to scope out the neighborhood while the others relaxed and grabbed some food. His teammates agreed, aware that they needed to be rested before confronting what was likely to be a dangerous situation.

  At noon, the foursome reconvened at La Bottega Caffè on the ground floor. While the lobby and room décor were maritime down to the smallest detail, the restaurant was entirely different. A long dark-wood bar welcomed a host of clients. Even at midday, some were sipping martinis and Italian wines poured from bottles displayed in front of a large mirror. In the back, a chef was throwing enormous pizzas topped with ham and salami into an oven at a crazy speed.

  Despite a quick nap, Jeremy had the feeling that he was floating in a thick haze. Jackie, on the other hand, looked refreshed and energized. He made out Eli and Avi and took his wife’s hand as they worked their way over to the table. Avi was suspiciously eyeing a steaming cappuccino that his waitress—a smoldering and curvy Mediterranean-looking brunette—had just delivered.

  “So it’s not the cuppa joe you couldn’t wait to wrap your hands around, is it?” Eli joked, looking at the menu.

  “No, I guess I should have gone for the Caffè Americano. I need a bigger dose of caffeine.”

  “Slide that cappuccino over here,” Jackie said. “It looks perfect to me.”

  Avi did as he was asked.

  “You know how I am about my coffee,” he said, staring at Jackie. “Think there might be a Starbucks around here?”

  Jeremy didn’t care about the doctor’s coffee, but he did care about the man’s chummy behavior with his wife. “Any word from Eytan?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” Eli replied. “But he’s a perfectionist. He’s probably going over every last nook and cranny in the neighborhood. Don’t worry, Jeremy. He won’t be long.”

  “You know him pretty well, don’t you?” Jeremy asked.

  “Better than anyone else, which doesn’t say much, actually.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Eytan is a one big mystery, young man. I’ve hung around him for a long time now, and yet I’ve barely scratched the surface of his past. I’m sure you’d like to know all about his life, but I’m telling you, if you pry into his history, you’ll hit a brick wall. I learned a long time ago that I needed to respect Eytan’s privacy.”

  His answer wasn’t the one Jeremy wanted to hear.

  “Are you familiar with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Jeremy?”

  “Of course.”

  “He wrote, ‘Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy,’” That’s the best I can do to sum up Eytan.”

  The quote shamed Jeremy. Eytan had displayed unequaled heroism when Professor Bleiberg was holding them captive. Jeremy knew he had no business trying to snoop into the man’s past. He apologized to the old Israeli, who gave him a look that was both gentle and fatherly.

  “How about we order?” Jackie suggested.

  “Good idea,” Avi chimed in. “And on the subject of tragedy and heroism, I think I’ll try ordering another coffee.”

  The foursome finished reading their menus and told the waitress what they wanted. When she arrived with the food, along with Avi’s coffee, he frowned and took a sip. A smile lit his face when he put the mug back on the table.

  “Mmm. Delicious!” he pronounced. “The best I’ve had in the US.”

  “Score one for the Yanks,” Eli said, grinning. “Now let’s enjoy ourselves. We’ve got some serious work ahead of us.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Returning from his scouting expedition, Eytan was pleased to see his protégés getting along so well.

  “I take it that you all got some rest and had a good meal.”

  “Sit down and order,” Jackie said. “It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

  “Thanks, but I already grabbed a sandwich. I hate being a killjoy, but it’s almost time. Finish up, and meet me at our cars,” he instructed before going back the way he had come.

  Five minutes later, they were in their vehicles, heading toward a nearby side street.

  After parking, Eytan asked Avi and Eli to be lookouts while he retrieved the bags from the trunks. He unzipped one of them and took out two small metal boxes. He gave a flesh-colored earpiece to each of them.

  “They’re headphones with an integrated communications system,” he said as he placed one in his ear. “No loud talking needed. The microphone can pick up the vibrations in your vocal chords.”

  The team huddled, and like a star quarterback before a pivotal play, Eytan explained the game plan with poise and authority.

  “Eli will blend in with the pedestrians
and stay close to Jeremy. Avi will be behind the wheel of one car, and Jackie will be in the other vehicle. They’ll keep the engines running in case we have to make a quick getaway. Jackie, you’ll be positioned on the west side of the High Line, and Avi will be on the east side. I’ll show you exactly where in a little bit. Jeremy, you’ll be on foot.”

  “What about you? Where will you be?” Jeremy asked. “And how will you recognize our contact?”

  “According to Simon Attali, we’ve already met. That’s all I know. I’ll be waiting on the roof of this building,” he said, pointing to the apartment complex that spanned the side street. I’ll be watching everyone from above. I’m expecting you to be as attentive as possible. Point out anything that looks suspicious. Paying attention to these details separates the suprisers from the surprisees. Any problem with our plan?”

  There was no word of dissent.

  “Great. Any questions?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got one,” Jackie said. “Jeremy has no training, so why are we throwing him into the middle of the ring?”

  “The people who are after us will recognize you, Jeremy, and me. Avi and Eli are still off the radar. I’d like to keep that trick in my back pocket for as long as possible. Plus if it’s a trap, better to let our enemies think we’ve walked right into it. Jeremy’s the best choice for the job.”

  “But I’m better at hand-to-hand combat if it comes to that,” the young woman objected.

  “Yes, but you can drive. Jeremy can’t, at least not since his car accident. Am I right?”

  “Yeah, you’re right on that score,” Jeremy admitted. “I’m in no rush to get behind the wheel. But I’m pretty awesome at running and riding a bike.”

  “Sweet!” Avi cheered. It was hard to miss the sarcasm. “Learn how to swim, and you could enter a triathlon.”

  “Do me a favor, and cut the wisecracks,” Jeremy said. “You’re not the comedian you think you are.”

  “I beg your pardon. I’m the intellect’s comedian.”

  “Which intellects have you been playing to? The ones you’ve anesthetized before surgeries at your clinic?”

  Eli intervened before Avi could have a go at the bookseller. “Okay, let’s be serious now. This mission is taking place in the middle of the city. The smallest mistake could cost us a life. Innocent bystanders are at risk too.”

  “He’s right,” Jackie agreed.

  “Oh come on,” Jeremy protested. “I’m just messing around.”

  “Recess is over, the two of you!” Eytan growled. “Make one more dumb joke, and I’ll knock you out and stuff you in a trunk. I’m not kidding. This has to go down perfectly. Get to your posts, everybody.” He shot Avi and Jeremy a dark glare, and both turned silent and sheepish.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were all in position. From the top of the building, Eytan gave the starting signal.

  “All right, friend, off you go,” he whispered, looking through the scope of his rifle.

  Hearing those words, Jeremy walked up the steps to the elevated park. Eytan watched and saw the change on his young colleague’s face. Just seconds earlier, he had looked determined and brave. Now he looked like a mouse being tossed into a cage of ravenous snakes.

  Chapter 18

  Mesmerized by the panoramic view of the Big Apple, pedestrians meandered along the public pathway. The High Line, a linear park that ran from Gansevoort Street to West Thirty-fourth Street, was an oasis where concrete and greenery could coexist. It drew both New Yorkers and tourists.

  Atop the apartment building, Eytan enjoyed a clear view of the elevated walkway, as well as the squeezed-together skyscrapers some distance away. A pleasant little chat and a wad of bills had persuaded a security guard to give him access. Eytan had posed as a paparazzi intent on photographing a celebrity who was cheating on her husband. The ploy had worked like a charm. All he had to do now was tend to a few final preparations.

  On the walkway below, Jeremy slowly advanced past the white viburnum shrubs. His hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his black coat. Once upon a time he would have moved purposefully through the mix of runners, relaxed couples, and shoppers. But he was a different man now, and his reason for being there would have scared anyone.

  Eytan could see that Jeremy was struggling hard to feign a relaxed expression, and he was struck with guilt. “Just breathe. I’m right here with you,” he soothed.

  “That’s nice, but I wish I could see you,” Jeremy mumbled.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I promise to tell you lots of cool life stories when this is all over.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “I won’t forget that.”

  “You can count on me. From now on, I’m an open book.”

  “Ah, so now you’re the geeky booklover, and I’m the spy.”

  Eytan smiled. “I guess so. Got anything newsworthy to report, Secret Agent Jeremy?”

  “No, a group of kids with adults, some runners, a few old guys out for a stroll.”

  “Okay, keep your eyes peeled. Eli, what’s happening at your end?”

  “Nothing extraordinary,” Eli replied as he walked into the Chelsea Market via a connecting bridge from the High Line. Some Japanese tourists taking pictures, a couple with two children, a legless guy in a wheelchair pushed by a man who’s a Chris Waddle lookalike.”

  “I don’t see anyone in a wheelchair,” said Jeremy, who was about a hundred feet away. “Who’s Chris Waddle?” He seemed to welcome the opportunity to get his mind off his worries.

  “He was a British football player,” Eli said. “Oh, I forgot. You Americans call it soccer. He was a great athlete and a good broadcaster. But he wasn’t known for his sense of style.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Ah, I see them now,” Eytan said. “The guy pushing the wheelchair has a big shoulder bag. Do you see it, Eli?”

  “Do you think I’m rusty? Yes, I see it. It looks like a big gym bag. They’re probably on their way to physical therapy. And anyway, they’re heading toward the elevator that goes back down to the street.”

  “Yeah, they’re getting into the elevator now. Jeremy, what time do you have?”

  “My watch says 1:59. I hope our contact shows up on time. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

  Eli broke in. “Look out! Three men in black suits and gray coats just entered the covered passageway.”

  “Give me a description,” Eytan ordered as he propped his weapon on his shoulder.

  “Tall, muscular, short hair, walking with intent. Each of them has a briefcase. They’ve stopped at the terrace.”

  “Are black suits the dress code for bad guys?” Jeremy’s feeble attempt at humor couldn’t hide his anxiety.

  “Personally, I don’t think it’s a wise choice. But yeah, I see it a lot,” Eytan said. “Eli, jump in at the first suspicious move.”

  “No problem, boss!” the Israeli responded.

  Eytan spotted their man and gave the order. “Okay, the games have begun. Our client has arrived.”

  “Where is he?” Jeremy asked, looking all around.

  “He’s at the top of the staircase, to your right. Walk toward him slowly, and try not to make any sudden movements. Eli, if your three nitwits move an inch, let me know before tackling them.”

  “Message received,” he replied.

  “What does he look... Hold on, is it that tall guy with gray hair and a scary scar on his face?” Jeremy asked. “Don’t they have plastic surgery for things like that?”

  “It’s Bramble,” Eytan muttered. “I wouldn’t have believed it if they had told me.”

  “Bramble? Titus Bramble?” repeated Jackie, who was parked on the side street, as instructed.

  “You know him too?” Jeremy said.

  “He’s the head of the paramilitary operations branch of the CIA’s Special Activities Division. He used to be part of an elite squad. The guy’s a legend. Of course I know who he is.”

&nb
sp; “Tell me he’s an okay guy, despite his creepy-ass face,” Jeremy pleaded as he approached the man.

  Bramble was in his fifties, but he still had an intimidating build. Eytan could see as much through the scope of his rifle. “If you disregard his obsession with sharp weapons and scalp-chopping, then yeah, he’s an okay guy.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jeremy gulped and squeaked a hello. He felt the man’s stone-cold glare and feared his legs would give out.

  He’s okay. He’s okay, Jeremy repeated silently, fighting to harness the power of positive thinking. Bramble continued to stare at him. Did the guy have X-ray vision or something?

  “Corbin, where’s Morg? He’s the one I want to talk to,” he boomed. The voice matched the build.

  This Bramble guy wasn’t okay.

  “And he wants to talk to you,” Jeremy muttered.

  “Hand him the extra earpiece I gave you, and head back north toward Avi’s car,” Eytan instructed. “There’s no point in staying out in the open any longer. Eli, anything new?”

  “Red herring. The guys are lawyers. They look like they’re on their lunch break. But I’ll keep my eye on them.”

  Jeremy, following Eytan’s instructions to avoid any sudden movements, slowly pulled the earpiece from his pocket and handed it to Bramble. The man put it in his ear. Jeremy edged away in the direction of the staircase. He was elated as he scrambled down the steps. He had survived.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I imagine you’ve got your sniper focused on me.”

  “You got it, Bramble,” Eytan lied as he scanned the other pedestrians through his sniper scope.

  “I never thought we’d have the opportunity to speak again.”

  “And I never thought it would be you behind all of this.”

  “I had nothing to do with it. I did everything I could to cover your ass, but it’s out of my hands now. That’s why I contacted Attali.”

  “Spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

  “Did you really think I’d set you up after everything we’ve been through? Semper Fidelis. Always faithful. Relax. I’m here alone.”