by Trevor Scott
"And the German technology?"
Isaac hesitated. "Rudolf assures me that his technicians can handle the transputer conversion."
"Is Rudolf loyal?"
Isaac laughed. "Of course. He's family. Married to my niece. She's quite good looking. Our family network is important, Vitaly. We've had nothing else for the past fifty years."
"But I thought we still needed the remainder of the transputer relay schematics?"
"That's true. In fact, that's why you're here. The American will be in Germany soon. I need you to take the rest of your men to Bonn and confront him. You explain to him that we had a deal with his man, Johnson." Isaac's eyes became wide and his voice deepened. "Don't take no for an answer. He'll have access to the German technology we need."
Vitaly shifted nervously in his chair. Isaac knew that this was the first time since leaving Hungarian Intelligence he had asked his good friend to go beyond the normal means of persuasion. Yet, he also knew that he would never ask his top man to do something he himself was not willing to do.
"What if the American is stronger than we think?" Vitaly asked, knowing the answer already.
Isaac hesitated. He tapped his finger against his temple and stared directly at Vitaly. "Take all of your best men," Isaac said. "We need this information now. If the American hands over the last of the chip technology to Bundenbach Electronics, they could reach the market much sooner than us. We could still produce a quality product much cheaper, but we can't afford that kind of competition. Bundenbach has massive resources compared to us. So then you must do two things, Vitaly. Get the German technology, and stop the American from turning over his information."
Vitaly nodded. "Yes, sir." He got up from his chair and slowly walked out of the room.
Isaac slid his front desk drawer open. Inside, a beautiful postcard of the Italian Riviera lay among a pile of stark white papers. He picked up the card, brought it to his lips, and kissed it gently. Bright red, yellow and green sailboats were moored in the San Remo harbor. The sun shone brightly. Colorful flowers canvassed the foreground. And Isaac saw himself bend over to take a deep whiff. He closed his eyes and smiled.
* * *
CHAPTER 34
ROME, ITALY
Toni paced from the refrigerator to the sink and stood with her hand on the faucet not remembering why she was even in the kitchen. She noticed her hand tremble.
Kurt came into the kitchen from the living room. "I guess I'll get my own beer, Toni, but thanks for offering anyway," he said, pulling a liter bottle of Peroni from her refrigerator.
"I'm sorry, Kurt. I guess I'm drifting off a bit tonight," Toni said. She stroked her long fingers through her thick black hair.
Kurt opened the bottle and took a slow gulp. "Jake should be back any minute."
Toni knew that Kurt was trying to play down the fact that Jake was later than they had planned.
"He should have been here two hours ago," she said. "This is really rare for Jake. When he says he's going to be someplace at a certain time, he's there dammit. I can't remember him being more than a few minutes late for any occasion."
Kurt took another sip. "Maybe so. But an aircraft carrier can take your breath away and make you lose track of time."
"That wouldn't matter," she said, and then walked into the living room.
Kurt was right behind her. "I don't understand what the problem is. I'm sure everything is all right."
Toni peered through the decorative sheers of the window overlooking the courtyard. A new dusk had darkened the garden greenery into one melded mass. She pulled the nylon cord next to the window and lowered the rolladen all the way to the bottom, and then turned toward Kurt. "Is everything all right? We have four people dead, at least one person with the U.S. Customs office transferring restricted technology to another country, and who knows what else. Jake has a similar technology transfer in Germany by the same company, at least one person dead, and a former German Intelligence agent and his men trying to shoot Jake full of holes. Other than that, everything is just fine."
Kurt plopped into the plush living room chair and took another long sip of beer. It was obvious to Toni that Kurt's long day watching Dalton had taken its toll on him.
Toni turned her head quickly with the sound of a key in the door lock.
Jake entered slowly and quietly closed the door behind him. He looked over at Toni next to the window, and then to Kurt sitting in the chair. "It's like a fuckin' morgue in here," Jake said. "Who died?"
"Where the hell have you been?" Toni asked.
Jake unsnapped his leather coat, pulled it off, and set it gently on a chair. "Working, dear," he answered, smiling.
Toni gasped when she noticed the dried blood on Jake's left temple. "What happened to you?" She came over to Jake and pushed his head sideways as a mother would to inspect her son's road rash after taking a spill on his bicycle.
"I had a little misunderstanding with Burt Simpson. He thought my sideburns were a bit too long."
"Go ahead and make fun," Toni said.
"Okay, truthfully, I'm pretty damn sick of getting shot at. And I don't see that the end is near. By the way, Kurt, your buddy Leo is a good guy."
"He's a character, though," Kurt said, as he rose from the deep chair. "You want a beer, Jake?"
"Thanks, I could use one."
Toni twirled her hands toward herself. "Go on. What else happened."
Kurt returned from the kitchen with a few beers and handed one to Jake.
"Hungarians," Jake stated, and then took a satisfying chug of beer.
"Hungarians?" Toni asked. "What about Hungarians?"
"In Germany Herb and I ran into a few Hungarians. At the time I wasn't sure what they were looking for. But today my new friend Burt told me a good story about Hungarians. That's who Dalton and Simpson were selling to."
"Why sell to the Hungarian government?" Kurt asked.
"I don't think they were selling to the government. Simpson isn't the most intelligent guy in the world. He saw dollar signs in his eyes and could have just as easily been selling to the Pope as far as he knew. Dalton is the brains behind the Roosevelt chips, but I don't think he handled what took place in Germany. I'm not sure who's behind that. I know what Bundenbach Electronics is trying to do, but I don't know who wants them to succeed."
"What about the Genoa bombing?" Kurt asked.
"Shit! I almost forgot. Toni, give your friend Bruno a call and have him pick up Burt Simpson at the Hotel Capri, room 303, in Naples," Jake said.
"Simpson bombed those four guys?"
"Kind of. He delivered the car to the young boy. Simpson told me that a strange, tall Hungarian gave the bomb to him with the instructions. I didn't have time to get more, even though I enjoyed the effort. I'm sure Bruno will get everything he needs. I've softened Simpson considerably."
"Thanks, Jake. I owe Bruno."
Jake shrugged his shoulders. "No problem."
Toni picked up the phone and instinctively punched in Bruno Gallano's number. In her quickest Italian, Toni explained as much as she could to her old friend. When she finished, she said "Ciao" and then pursed her lips in a mock kiss through the phone and hung up. She paused for a moment with her hand still on the phone.
"What's the matter?" Jake asked.
She thought for a second. "Herb!" Toni said, as she picked up Jake's message beeper on the table next to the phone. "Herb sent you a message through the Italian switch of the European Messaging Service."
Jake gently received the small beeper from Toni. "I love these gadgets," he said.
Jake had purposely left the device behind because he knew he couldn't get a signal onboard the aircraft carrier. Herb's message was simple but revealing: "Lassen Sie sich Zeit."
"What does that mean?" Toni asked, leaning over Jake's shoulder.
"It means take your time. But what he means is, get your ass in gear back to Germany. I'll have to call him."
"Does he have secure capability?"
Toni asked.
Jake smiled. "No. Herb's a German Customs Agent working out of a tiny office in Bonn. He's close to retirement, and the agency doesn't have much use for his investigative approach. When he first found out about the technology transfer, his superiors thought he was full of shit. In fact, they only humor him now because they don't fully understand the possible impact, and they don't think he's capable of uncovering anything significant."
"Do you?"
Jake hesitated. "I've known Herb for quite a few years. Not well, but we've worked together. I trust his judgment. I trust him. Besides, his disdain for bureaucrats is equal to mine."
"So, I guess you'll have to call like normal people," Toni said smiling.
Jake smiled as he propped the phone against his ear and punched in Herb's home number. "Herb? Yeah." A pause. "No shit? Yeah I know the slimy bastard. I had a feeling about him from the first time I met him. From Rome? What was he doing here? He's from Portland. He's an executive vice president with Teredata. Yes, this does change things. I'm not sure how yet. No, don't confront him. Keep an eye on him until I get there. Okay. What?" Jake listened intently. "Who the fuck did it? Gunter? I'm going to kick his ass this time. Yeah, thanks, I'll try to. See you in the morning."
Jake hung up the phone with a crash and then looked toward Toni and Kurt. Toni had moved closer to him and Kurt had gotten up from his chair.
"Well?" Toni asked.
"Not good!" Jake pinched his nose. He knew he had to maintain his strength up front. Whatever his feelings, whatever weaknesses, he had to get stronger and not let anything get in his way.
"Is everything all right?" Toni asked softly, putting her hand on Jake's shoulder.
"Do you remember my friend Walt Kaiser, the Polizei out of Wiesbaden"?
"Yes. We met once at that New Year's party a few years back. The one in Frankfurt."
"Yeah, well Gunter and his men have put him in the hospital in Koblenz."
"How?" Toni asked.
"I don't know. He and his men beat him up pretty bad. Herb said he'll make it. But I've about had it with Gunter. I never liked the bastard. And now I've got a good reason to kick his fat ass." Jake felt his ears warm and his face become flush as though he were still a school boy enamored by some beautiful new girl. But he knew this heat was not from passion. A pain wrenched in his stomach as he took a sip of his beer and tried to enjoy it.
All three stood there, not knowing what to say.
Finally, Kurt said, "Do you need some help, Jake?"
Jake looked at him. "I'm sure I could use you, Kurt, but we still have to keep an eye on Dalton here. We know he's pretty much in charge of this operation. We need to close him down for good. Besides, I'd like to know who he's selling to, and what else he might be giving away. You need to stay here and finish your case. Toni's office really needs you. Since Cecil has been gone, they've been short handed."
Kurt nodded his head as if taking an order from his superior.
"What about..." Toni stopped short.
Jake knew that she could go to Germany if she wanted. She could work anywhere in Europe. Even if he said no, she could shadow and back him up.
"Kurt could use your help, Toni," Jake said, before she could get her question out. "The Hungarian bomber is still out there. I'm sure Bruno will catch him, but what about before he does? It's better to have two sets of eyes." Before Toni or Kurt could respond, Jake swirled his leather jacket on. He felt the butt of his gun and then ensured the two extra fifteen-round clips were in his inside pocket. "I've got to go," he said bluntly.
Jake noticed Toni staring into his eyes. He wanted to kiss her and hold her tight and then make love through the night. But that would have to wait, he thought. He zipped and snapped his coat half way and then started toward the door. He stopped with his hand on the curved door latch and turned to Toni. What the hell. Romans never waste an opportunity to kiss a pretty girl. He walked over to Toni, kissed her gently on both cheeks, and then meshed his lips firmly with Toni's moist red lips. Toni's chest heaved with a slow deep breath. Finally, Jake slowly released his lips and looked into Toni's eyes.
"I'll come back to Rome if you want me," Jake whispered softly.
Toni smiled. "I want. Be careful."
"Always."
Jake shook Kurt's hand. "Get Dalton."
"You can count on it, Jake."
Jake slowly closed Toni's door and started walking down the stairs. He got to the bottom and stopped. Someone was following him down the stairs. He quickly moved to the side of the wooden banister and waited.
The steps were slow but deliberate. It wasn't Toni or Kurt, he thought. A shadow preceded the figure and came farther and farther and closer to the bottom of the stairs.
Jake slid his CZ-75 out of its holster quietly. The figure came into Jake's view. It was the old man from the third floor in his night clothes with a pillow under his right arm as if going to a slumber party. Jake quickly holstered his gun and watched the man walk right into the first floor apartment. Finally, he sighed with relief and went out the door.
Once outside and walking toward his car, he realized how presumptuous he had been. It was never bad to be too careful, he reassured himself.
There was a chill in the darkness. The dim yellow street lights made Jake's eyes work overtime trying to adjust.
He got to his car and stopped for a second pretending to look for his keys. Jake had noticed a blue BMW, similar to Herb's, with two dark shapes a block down the street, but the figures had disappeared. He was sure they had both crouched down. He got in and thought for a moment. What if those were the Hungarians and they just planted a bomb in his car? But why would they want to kill him?
He shook his head, started the car, and slowly pulled from the curb. He looked into the rear view mirror, but the car was still there.
After a few blocks, he turned right and continued driving slower than normal. He couldn't help wonder why those two men were outside Toni's apartment. Or were they even there? Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He had been up since before the sun rose, driven to Naples and back, and encountered Burt Simpson on the USS Roosevelt and then interrogated him. He had every right to be tired. His eyes had every right to be deceiving him. The bullet graze to his head still brought pain and dizziness.
He turned right again down a one way street. He shook his head to break loose his blurred vision. But he couldn't get those two men out of his mind. Why were they there? He had to find out.
Turning right again, he headed back toward Toni's apartment. Just before he turned back on Toni's street, he pulled over to the curb and stopped. How you going to play this one? Scanning his memory, he tried to remember the best way to confront trained terrorists, if that's who they were. If it came to firepower, he knew he'd be outgunned without Toni and Kurt. But there was no phone in the area to call Toni, so he had to move fast.
Jake pulled away from the curb and turned right onto Toni's street. The car was still there. No heads though. He stopped just two car lengths behind the BMW and turned off his lights.
The darkness made it difficult to make out anything. To the right of the car, across the sidewalk, was a high metal fence that ran for nearly the length of the block. The multi-unit apartment building on the other side of the fence had a security system with a speaker box on the fence gate. Jake could see from the fence to the building, so he felt fairly sure that the two men couldn't lurk in the shadows there and ambush him.
He sat and waited. It had only taken him a few minutes to drive around the block and come back. Long enough for the two men to leave their car.
"Shit!" he said aloud. Jake popped the seat belt and got out of his car. He pulled his gun, cocked the hammer, and ran up to the blue BMW. Nobody there. Terrible thoughts ran through his mind as he ran toward Toni's apartment. He should have known something was wrong. Shut up. Just get the bastards.
Jake reached the front door of Toni's building and slowly and quietly entered. If they had knocked o
n Toni's door she might have thought it was him having forgotten something. She could have just swung the door open. And then. Shut up.
With his gun leading the way up the stairs, Jake smoothly stepped upward. He knew every creak in the hardwood stairs. Every spot to watch for. His eyes quickly jutted downward and then back up again. His steps were sure. He listened carefully for any sound above. It was as if he were in the woods stalking a deer. Senses against senses. But deer didn't carry Uzis.
Then he stopped. He thought he heard whispering for just a second. Just a few words, but he couldn't make them out. Hungarian?
He froze. His gun pointed up to the last corner just outside Toni's door. Did they know he was there? That's it. Draw their fire to allow Toni and Kurt enough time to react.
Then Jake heard the sound of the door slowly swishing shut below him. Who the hell is that? Redundancy! An East Bloc trademark. If two could do the job, send four. Now he was trapped just above the ninety degree turn in the stairs. A team of Hungarians above him, and probably a back up team below him. He had to make the first move. Now!
He aimed his gun to the corner of the ceiling above him and fired a shot. The sound reverberated throughout the stairwell. He heard the men above him stir. Below there was no sound. Toni and Kurt had to hear that.
"Ciao," Jake screamed.
Around the corner above him came a flurry of flashes without sound. He dodged to his left and hugged the wall. Plaster flew from the wall where he had been standing.
Jake pumped off a couple rounds toward the flashing barrel.
Then Jake thought of the others below him. Did they know he knew they were there? He smashed his body as close to the wall as he could. Sweat streaked down the sides of his face. His heart pounded uncontrollably. What if those below were just visiting the old man on the third floor? Then the shots would have made them move, and they won't be there. You've gotta move. They've got you, Jake.
