by Jack Gardner
This was not the same case as with the security guard who walked next to him down the hallway at Operations, his gun on the side opposite to Eddie’s. This man walked next to him, exactly half a step behind Eddie’s right step, so as to hinder Eddie from being able to turn around suddenly while relying on his strong hand. The object pressed against his body was low enough to stop him from making a sudden dive. More so—he wasn’t even sure that the object was actually a gun, because the man called Ram did not allow him to see that object at any given moment.
There was only one consolation in that whole absurd situation, where a man as skilled as himself was kidnapped by a man just as skilled, if not more. That was that his orders were to obey whatever the man told him to do. At least at this point. And then what? He’ll have to wait and see.
They crossed a live fence and walked over to a small parking lot behind it. It was an eight-car lot, but there were only two cars there. Eddie noticed a small dark car that he could not recognize, and next to it a jeep that he immediately recognized as a Lada, made in the Czech Republic. The man directed him toward the jeep and asked him to stop.
“Are you armed?” He asked.
Eddie did not think that his answer would replace a frisk. The man, he knew, would not take the risk.
“I have a 22 Breta in my right sock,” he quietly replied. There is nothing like a civilized conversation between two professionals.
“Thank you,” said the man, “and you are…?”
“Right handed,” replied Eddie, knowing that he is not saying anything the man didn’t already discover on his own.
“Allow me, please.” For an instant, the feeling of the gun pressed against him disappeared, and a quick hand lifted the bottom of his pants and took out the gun from its case. The entire thing took about a second and a half. The gun was back in its place.
***
For a change, I felt good. I felt that this time they sent a man to my liking. It didn’t mean that I should become careless, but this man, who called himself Eddie, was an experienced professional. You’d always rather do business with professionals, where ego doesn’t play a role. That usually prevents rash actions.
But can I trust this man? Could I tell him the story and convince him of its truthfulness? And what if his only motivation is the orders he receives from those who are orchestrating this pursuit? What if he is one of the bad guys and will change his spot once I let him get closer?
I opened the jeep’s door and asked Eddie to take the driver’s seat, letting him sneak a peak at my Keller and Koch while I walked in front of the jeep, opened the passenger door, and walked in. I handed him the keys.
“We’re going,” I said.
“Where to?” Eddie asked.
“Do you know the cliff beach?”
“Yes.”
“Go there.”
I guess Eddie decided this was the moment to study me in depth.
“I don’t like that idea,” he declared.
“And why is that?” I quietly asked.
“I was told that you shoot people.”
I was silent.
“The beach is isolated…” he went on.
“Had I wanted to shoot you, I would have already done that,” I said quietly. “In any case, we can’t stay here. We’re too close to the surveillance team you dodged. Drive.”
Eddie started the car.
As he was driving, I tried to imagine what went through his head. At this point, he probably decided that what he heard was enough, I thought, even though I had no doubt that he still distrusted me and my intentions. After all, he had no idea what motivated my actions. As far as he was concerned, I could have been a crazy murderer led by an uncontrollable vengeance—even if I seemed polite and at ease. I’m convinced someone made sure to portray me in a pretty devilish manner. He did say, “I was told you shoot people”—which was true. But he wasn’t told that it was in self-defense. That part was not mentioned; maybe it meant he was not part of the group making the decisions?
I believed that he did not like the situation he found himself in—a situation in which he received orders that did not leave him any space to maneuver. I decided that he must be someone from the outside who was called in to help them with something they couldn’t solve on their own. Does that mean I can assume that he was on board even before I initiated contact? If that is so, then his job was most probably to locate me, to dig me out of my anonymity—which their first teams did not manage to do. Therefore, they considered him an expert. But what kind of expert?
On the other hand, maybe he was only called in after I asked for a go-between. In that case, I could assume that being that they did not want to expose anyone involved, they used someone from the outside who wouldn’t know anything about their plot.
I had no other option but to try and see what the man knew. If he’s from the outside, my chances of convincing him are not bad. If not, well then…
Eddie got off the highway and turned toward the beach. About a half a mile later, I could already see the white foam of the waves, even in the dark. There was a parking lot at the entrance to the beach. At that hour, it was almost completely deserted. I gestured him to drive in and park at one end, the jeep’s front headed toward the exit. Eddie turned off the engine.
“Now what?” He asked.
I looked straight at him. “If I take away the gun, can I assume you will not jump me?”
Eddie was only slightly surprised.
“My orders were clear: I’m supposed to get a message from you, and I have no idea what it is. I wasn’t told to arrest you. Had I wanted you arrested, I wouldn’t have bothered getting rid of my tail.”
“They didn’t tell you about the tail?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not. The question is why would you want to know.”
“Let’s just say I like knowing exactly what I am part of.”
“Sounds fair to me,” I said. “Do you not know?”
“I feel like some details are hidden from my eyes—and I’ll leave it at that.”
‘Mine too,’ I thought, ‘only that I wouldn’t refer to it as “some details.”’ I still had no idea what this was all about, but I could see the man in front of me was curious. I had a feeling he wasn’t simply trying to trick me. This was an opportunity.
I decided to stop beating around the bush. “They told you I shot people. It’s true, I did. I shot people who came to kill me.”
“You’re talking about the incident at Davis Café,” Eddie stated.
“Yes.”
“When you were at the café that evening, you called the Vice Head of Operations,” said Eddie. “Why?”
“You got the number from the café’s call log?” I asked.
“Isn’t that what you wanted? Considering you were calling a listed number.”
“Yes. I called him to set a meeting place,” I went on, “I thought it would be right to leave a trace, only because I didn’t trust that guy. There was something really bothersome about the way he talked to me. A kind of tension, covering the smile of a hunter waiting for his prey.”
“And then what happened?”
“They sent an assassination team—allow me to guess you didn’t know that.”
Eddie remained silent. I read his silence as that of someone who suspected something but wasn’t totally sure of it.
“They were planning to shoot me like a stray dog. Right there, by the café table.”
“How can you be so sure? After all, you were the first to open fire.”
I looked at him. ‘He did his research,’ I thought. “Did you figure that one out on your own, or did they tell you so?”
“They told me, but I confirmed it at the scene. I reenacted everything that happened that evening and I am certain that you opened fire. There is no other way.”
“Yes,” I admitted it, “I was the first to shoot. Had I not done so, three gunmen would have shot me. Have no doubt about it: it was treason, o
f the worst kind. After all, I turned myself in, and they came to kill me.” I tried to appeal to his heart. After all, he was a smart man. He will see that there’s something wrong here. Still, I constantly reminded myself that they sent him, and that a few sentimental words would not make him switch sides. I kept going.
“I have a feeling,” I said, “that you know no more than I do what is going on here.”
“And what would I need to know?” Asked Eddie.
“I wish I knew. All I know is that someone is chasing me and trying to kill me, and I have no idea why. Moreover, I’m not even sure who is behind it all.” I knew Eddie would not reveal who sent him, but it was worth a shot.
“Why don’t you turn yourself in?” Said Eddie, “I can help and make sure you are safe.”
I took my hand out of my pocket, without the gun. “That is exactly what I tried to do then—and you know just as well as I do what happened. Now I am a murder suspect. I know it was self-defense. He who comes to kill you, rise and kill him. As I see it, two people died for no reason. If I turn myself in right now, I will never know what happened. I believe you could ensure my safety until you handed me over to them—but then what? After all, you don’t really belong to that gang!” Another attempt to put us both on the same side.
Eddie thought about it all for a long moment. “My initial orders were to locate you,” he finally said. “I have no idea why and what you are involved with. I was told that you killed two people. I was told you were an intelligence officer who strayed, who committed treason. I don’t think it takes more than that for me not to like you. But I am not a killer, and obviously, I would never harm a man who wants to turn himself in. Things should be cleared in the Bureau, by those who are trained to do so. Allow me to bring you to those trained to do so.” His words remained between us.
“But your orders changed tonight,” I said.
“It’s true.” Eddie saw no real reason to hide that fact. “My new orders are to receive material or directions from you, and in short—to do anything you want me to do and report back to my superiors. The idea of you turning yourself in is mine.”
“And now you know I have no material to give, simply because I have no idea why they are chasing me. And as for turning myself in, at this point, I told you my opinion of it.”
There was a silence in the car. Only by the sound of the waves hitting the rocks on the beach broke it.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” said Eddie, after thinking for a long time, “and chances are that I will pay a price for it, but tell me everything you know, start from the beginning.”
I was hoping he’d say that, and I told him so. I believed I read him right, and that at the end of the day, he’ll make the right decision.
And then, for about a half hour, I told him everything I knew. When I was done, Eddie said, “I have to think things through. What is the message I should give them?”
“It’s too early to show our cards. Not until we know for certain what is going on. Tell them I need more time, that I am asking them to let me be for seventy-two hours.”
“And if they say no?”
“Tell them that I have a description of their plot that I would be happy to share with the media, and if anything happens to me, the story will be sent automatically to select newspapers.”
Eddie nodded his head. I knew he would still confirm some details in order to make sure the things I told him were true. He was a pro, and I knew I should appreciate that.
“If you will,” I said, “I’m going to have to leave you here.”
“I understand,” said Eddie. “And my gun?”
I pointed to a small fence about eighty feet away from us. “Pick it up from there, please.”
Eddie nodded in approval. “Before I leave, I’m going to give you a phone number no one knows about. Do not use it until I specifically tell you to.”
Now I had to trust him, especially if I wanted to know why I was being chased. I memorized the number while Eddie got out of the car and started walking toward the fence. I passed by him in the jeep, reached out, and left his gun on the fence. Then I drove away quickly. I figured he would have to walk about a mile and a half, but at least the weather was pleasant. I was convinced my new ally would understand.
33
The phone in the Vice Head of Operations’ office rang, and he clicked “record” before picking up the phone. On the line was the Head of Surveillance in the operations department. He seemed angry.
“Whose team does your guy play for?”
Sammy sounded confused for a minute. “Who are you talking about?”
“Who do you think I’m talking about? I’m talking about the guy you asked me to follow to a meeting.”
“And what happened?” Asked Sammy, sensing more trouble.
“What happened is that the fucker tricked us.” The rage, therefore, was real. “In any case, the surveillance didn’t happen.”
Now it was Sammy’s turn to be surprised. “But you explicitly told me that the men were in their positions! How could it not happen?”
“What kind of vehicle does your man use?” The tone was cynical.
“As far as I know, the car I described to you,” answered Sammy.
“So what would you say to the fact that the man left his house on a motorcycle, leaving the car under my peoples’ noses? He let them believe he was home. Even left the lights on.”
“I see,” said Sammy, while thinking what a son of a bitch that Eddie was.
“I don’t understand,” the guy would not let go—he was really angry, “after all, we are his insurance policy! Why did he decide to leave us behind?”
“It really is weird,” Sammy lied, knowing the truth about the supposed insurance policy, “but as you know, top-tier agents are at times very independent and work according to their own judgment. I have to see what happened there with him.”
The Head of Surveillance was not appeased. “I will not turn a blind eye to this,” he replied angrily, “this is unacceptable. It was not a mistake on our side. Had you told me the man was not cooperating or did not know about the surveillance, we would have acted differently.”
“Let me check and I’ll get back to you,” said Sammy.
“I’m waiting to hear from you,” said the Head of Surveillance in a bitter voice.
‘Shit!’
***
The Vice Head of Operations called Eddie’s cell phone. He feared there’d be no answer and was surprised to hear Eddie pick up.
“This is Sammy,” he said, “any news?”
“I was just about to call you.”
“Did the meeting take place?” Asked Sammy.
“Positive,” replied Eddie.
“When?” Asked Sammy.
“It ended twenty minutes ago,” was the reply.
“And…?”
“The man is asking for time.” Eddie revealed the bottom line.
“Did you receive anything?”
“Negative. He is asking for seventy-two hours.”
“What for?”
“He said for restructuring, to end his affairs here and get out. Leave the country.” Eddie wondered whether his voice sounded natural enough.
“What if it doesn’t happen?” Sammy asked.
“He said the material is ready to be sent to newspapers. I have no idea what he is talking about.” That was true.
“Did he threaten you?” Sammy changed the subject.
“If a gun against my ribs counts as a threat, then yes. But all in all he was talking to the point and I think the gun was meant to keep him safe, not to chase his own tail.” Eddie used the double entendre knowingly. A sudden light cough on the other end of the line revealed that maybe some spit had gone down Sammy’s windpipe.
“You know the drill. I want a full report on the meeting as soon as possible. Tonight.” He left no room for doubt.
“It’s not a problem. I was planning on doing that anyway. I’m going to hop on my motorc
ycle and come to the office. The report will be on your desk in a couple of hours.”
Sammy hung up and bit his lower lip. So, the Head of Surveillance was right: for some reason, Eddie decided to take his motorcycle to the meeting and ruined the surveillance plan. They had hoped that by the end of the day they’d have the target’s address. That was not going to happen. Not tonight. And why not? Because of endless compartmentalization. After he had warned L about this! He suggested that they share their information from the surveillances with Eddie. But the Head kept saying, “How would you feel if you were sent to meet a dangerous man who might find out that a surveillance is taking place and take vengeance on you?” He asked, “And in general, it is better if Eddie knows as little as possible.” So, that’s what came out of it all. Nothing. He’d be interested to know if Eddie’s decision to take his motorcycle was coincidental, or whether he noticed the surveillance team, and being that he knew nothing about them, he decided to get rid of them before the meeting. That’s what he would have done. He’d definitely have to think about it. In the meantime, he had no way of verifying what happened there—except for the report that Eddie would write.
He clicked a buzzer and confirmed with Judy that the boss was in his office, asking to see him as soon as possible. She got back to him within thirty seconds. “Come now, he is waiting for you.”
Sammy thanked her and pushed back his chair.
34
Eddie, wearing a blue helmet and black leather jacket, started the Kawasaki. He took the fast way to the Bureau headquarters, estimating that the ride would take him about seven minutes. It was late and the road was almost empty. He was determined to stay focused.
In front of him, the highway forked into three directions: one turned right toward the south, the second continued straight onto a bridge that crossed the freeway, and the third led north on that freeway. He was driving at sixty miles per hour, and the RPM gauge showed 3,000 rotations. He made sure to check the dashboard every few seconds, a habit he developed in order to stay alert.
