THE PERSON YOU HAVE CALLED HAS A VOICEMAIL BOX THAT HAS NOT BEEN SET UP YET. PLEASE TRY YOUR CALL AGAIN LATER. GOODBYE.
I have her address. Should I just drop by her place? No way! Way too pushy. I’ll call again this afternoon. He did, but he got the same result.
Hmm. I’ll try again in the morning. If I get this message again, I’ll have a decent excuse to stop by her place. If nothing else, I can leave a note for her, let her know that I’ve been trying.
No one was home at the Lotello/Klein household. No one’s paying me any attention. He borrowed Frank’s clubs and went to the local driving range and hit a few buckets of balls. Not great, but improving. He left the range, unsatisfied, and went to the park down by the lake and jogged a 5K—by himself.
CHAPTER 28
December 8, 2019, One Day Later
AMIR LOST THE TWO men who were following him. He went to Cipher’s apartment. Cipher didn’t advertise his location, but that was no problem for someone as resourceful as Amir.
He knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. This time: “Da?”
“Cipher, it’s Amir. Can we talk? Pozhaluysta. Please.”
The door opened, but Cipher didn’t invite Amir to enter. He was not particularly friendly. Perhaps Amir was interrupting something.
“What do you want?” Cipher asked.
Amir explained that for the past few days he was being tailed by two men. He didn’t think they were being all that discreet, so he spotted them easily. He wanted to know if Cipher knew anything about who they were, what they wanted.
Cipher stared at Amir as if he were wondering what to say. Finally: “Psikh! You are crazy. Why are you bothering me. Go away!” Cipher slammed the door in Amir’s face.
CIPHER WONDERED IF THIS obnoxious little twit could have something to do with the insect hacking into his laptop.
JAKE HAD CALLED ANYA again with the same result—the default greeting. He was now at the address where she said she was staying. He realized he wasn’t sure she had told him the truth, although he couldn’t imagine why she would have misled him about that. He rang the doorbell, and a middle aged man opened the door. “Yes? Can I help you?” he said.
“Hello, my name’s Jake Klein. I’m a friend of Anya. Is she here? May I talk to her, please?”
“Sorry. She’s not here. I don’t know when she’ll be back. May I give her a message?”
“Yes, please,” Jake said. “Please tell her I stopped by to say hello. Her phone doesn’t seem to be set up. Please ask her to call me. Again, my name is Jake Klein. She has my number.”
“Why don’t you give it to me again, you know, just in case.”
Jake felt a little reluctant, but gave the man his cell phone number.
AMIR RETURNED TO HIS car. As he did, two men approached him and asked him to come with them.
“I don’t wish to,” Amir said.
One of the men pulled a gun from inside his coat. “That was not an invitation,” he said to Amir. “Your wishes are of no concern to us.”
Amir hadn’t misunderstood, but he thought it was worth a try. Resigned, he was accompanied by them to the black SUV he had previously noticed following him around town. One of the men, the one with the brandished gun, joined him in the rear seat. The other man hurriedly got behind the wheel and drove them away. Amir had known it was not an invitation. What he didn’t know was where they were headed.
DISAPPOINTED, AND A BIT UNSETTLED, Jake returned to the family home. Everyone was back in the roost.
“We were about to have a late lunch. Care to join?” Leah asked.
“Sure.” Jake was worried that Leah was about to have at her favorite subject again, but she didn’t say a word about it—Jake and school. Instead, they talked politics.
“What do you think about the upcoming impeachment vote?” Leah asked him.
“I don’t know really,” Jake said, “but it sure seems like a wasted exercise to me.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Frank said.
Charlie didn’t say anything, his head buried in his smartphone.
Madison said she thought Baker was a jerk and had it coming.
“I’m kind of with Madison,” Leah commented.
“Why bother?” Jake asked. “We all know what the outcome’s going to be.”
Leah said she thought it was important for Congress to uphold its constitutional oversight responsibility, even if the outcome was a given.
“Probably because you’re a lawyer,” Jake said. “Personally, I think our taxpayer dollars could be put to better use than playing politics in the name of our Constitution.”
Frank smiled. “How ’bout them Washington Nationals?” Frank said, diplomatically changing the subject. “Think they can repeat?”
BIANCHI AND HER HUSBAND were sharing a sandwich at their D.C. townhouse. “Are you resigned to it?” her husband asked. “And when’s the vote?”
“Not much of a vote,” she said. “It’ll pretty much be Democrats in favor and Republicans against. Maybe a few exceptions, but straightforward and anti-climactic. And yes, I’m resigned to it. I just hope it doesn’t blow up in our faces.”
ANYA’S RED-EYE FLIGHT TOUCHED down at Domodedovo International Airport in Moscow early the next morning. She was met by a driver and whisked away. I don’t see why we couldn’t have done this by telephone. It’s always all about him.
CHAPTER 29
December 9, 2019, One Day Later
AMIR CAUGHT NOT ONE, but two lucky breaks. One, the two men who kidnapped him were cocky and lazy. Two, they were in Kazakhstan and not Moscow.
They took him to an old office building downtown, and didn’t bother to blindfold him. Amir knew Kazakhstan backward and forward, so he knew exactly where he was, and how to find his way to safety—if he ever got the chance.
They tore a bedsheet into strips and tied him to a chair they positioned in the center of the otherwise empty room—a far cry from chaining him to one of the walls or standing him on the chair and hanging him from the ceiling. He assumed they were GRU henchman, away from their home turf and assigned to get what they were after without the delay required to transport him to better equipped GRU facilities in Moscow.
To his dismay, they were prepared to make do with what they had.
ANYA SAT IN THE well-appointed office for approximately thirty minutes. She could have fallen asleep after the long sleepless flight, but she didn’t dare. She was not the least bit surprised when he entered the room. He took the seat to her right, facing both her and the empty chair opposite her.
“I trust you had a nice flight, Lieutenant,” her handler said. “Not everyone is treated to first class flight accommodations. I hope this reminds you of the importance of your mission.”
Anya was feeling a bit chippy. “I knew that when you felt the need for me to travel halfway around the world when we could just as easily have accomplished whatever we are about to accomplish by a scrambled telephone call.”
“That decision wasn’t mine to make. Nor yours. Besides, not even our embassy telephones are reliably secure. Our American colleagues will not be able to intercept these in-person discussions.”
She was entirely surprised by the next person to enter the room. The two of them immediately stood and faced the newcomer.
“Keep your seats,” Turgenev said. “We will be brief. You have a return flight to catch in just two hours. I wanted to discuss a few things with you in person, but I don’t want your absence to draw attention.” He looked straight at Anya, and spoke as if she was the only one in the room with him.
“When you were abruptly assigned to engage with the American, I believe his name is Jake Klein, you were told merely to cultivate a relationship with him and report back to us on his activities and proclivities. You weren’t told anything more. In particular, you weren’t told why. You have done well so far. What I will now share with you is extremely sensitive and confidential. It is of the utmost importance to Russia.” He paused.
“I understand, Mr. President,” Anya said without further prompting.
“Ochen khahrahsho. Very good. What I am about to tell you now must never leave this room.” Turgenev then explained to Anya Russia’s interest in the 2020 U.S. election, what steps he was personally taking to assure the outcome of the election, and his concern that Klein represented a possible threat to that outcome. “He must be stopped at all costs. I am counting on you to develop the kind of personal relationship with Klein that will allow you to keep us informed of what he is going to do before he does it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Anya paused. “I am not naïve, Mr. President. You are perfectly clear. You can count on me to do what you expect of me. For Russia.”
“Bolshoi spasebo. Thank you. Your country is in your debt. You will be rewarded. Have a good flight.” Turgenev stood and left the room.
“Come, Anya, your driver will take you back to Domodedovo,” her handler said.
JAKE WAS UP EARLY, showered, dressed, on his second cup of coffee, and studying the “how to” Mossad manuals on his new computer. As the files were now locally resident on his computer, he did not have to connect to the internet to view them, and so it didn’t matter that he was using his computer at Leah and Frank’s home.
CHAPTER 30
December 10, 2019, One Day Later
AMIR WAS BANGED UP, bruised, and hurting. It had been a long day. The two thugs had assured that. They wanted to know what Amir knew about the American, Jake Klein. He kept telling them he didn’t know anything, that the American was just a customer referred to him by a travel agent to usher him around Kazakhstan during hisfour-day stay. He told them where he drove him, and what arrangements he made for him at KHC. He said that was all he knew. They “encouraged” him not to leave anything out. Over and over.
After too many hours, and too much encouragement, Amir told his captors that he needed to use the bathroom. “Please, hurry, my stomach is very bad. I can’t hold it much longer.”
They untied him from the chair and freed his hands so he could use the latrine at the end of the hall. One of the men, gun in hand, accompanied him. Amir entered the washroom and the stall. He spotted the window he was hoping for—the third world’s air conditioning system. He wanted to close the door to the stall, but the man wouldn’t let him. He relieved himself in plain sight.
Amir was a good actor. He had exaggerated his condition. He knew his life depended on it. As he slowly started to exit the washroom, hunched over, swiftly reached forward, and grabbed the exposed gun from his assailant, instantly slamming it across the man’s skull. One more time for good measure, and the man dropped to the floor, unconscious. Amir turned back into the stall, jumped up on the toilet, forced open the window, and climbed out.
THE GRU AGENT STRUGGLED back to his feet. But Amir was now the one with the gun. He spun around and raced back to retrieve his partner and reestablish the odds. They rushed out the door and looked up and down the street. It was too late. Amir had disappeared.
THE HOODLUMS RAN TO their SUV. Amir was on foot. Given his appearance, it was unlikely that he could flag down a ride. They’d beat him back to his apartment, if Amir even went back to his apartment.
AMIR DID NOT RETURN to his apartment. He had a different plan. When you grew up on the streets of Kazakhstan—and when you were in Amir’s line of work—you had to be prepared at all times. He had associates who had disappeared at the hands of the government—permanently. So Amir was prepared.
For starters, Amir went straight to the safe house he maintained. It wasn’t much, but it had what he needed—a few changes of clothing, a roller bag, some toiletries and cosmetics, a bundle of money, and several travel documents. He used one of his precious bottles of water to clean himself up as best he could and then changed his clothes. He had a schedule to maintain. It was time to leave, and he wasn’t coming back.
CHAPTER 31
December 11, 2019, One Day Later
JAKE SPENT THE DAY further studying the files pertaining to the remote retrieval component of the Mossad software. It was as powerful as the manuals were thorough. He digested the user guide for the software, and a number of “how to” videos, and white papers that illustrated various tasks the software could be used to accomplish that he didn’t yet appreciate.
Every now and then, Jake wondered about Anya. As much as it pained him, the next move had to be hers. Her host had said she was doing some traveling. He promised to let her know Jake had stopped by when she returned. Either she’d call him on her return, or she wouldn’t. He had too much on his plate. He couldn’t allow Anya to slow him down.
CHAPTER 32
December 12, 2019, One Day Later
AMIR HAD SPENT THE day before in a youth hostel near the airport. He cut and dyed his hair to match the identical picture in the three meticulously forged passports he had kept in his safe house. He was now Daniyar Aronov in his Kazakhstan passport, and Dhruv Bhakta in his Barbuda and Bermuda passports.
He had carefully selected Barbuda and Bermuda. It wasn’t because of the tourist board island images in his mind. It was all international treaty arrangements. Barbuda was one of the few countries that a citizen of Kazakhstan could travel to as a tourist without the necessity of a visa. Bermuda allowed citizens of Barbuda to travel to Bermuda as a tourist without any requirement of a visa. Citizens of Bermuda were permitted to enter the United States as a tourist without having to obtain a visa. This was the only way Amir could get from Kazakhstan to the United States with nothing more than the three false passports already in his possession.
In his preparations, Amir had learned that the Caribbean island of Barbuda had been substantially destroyed by Hurricane Irma in 2017, including its international airport. However, he also knew the airport had been restored by dubious investors earlier in 2019, and was once again operational. The flight to Barbuda would be the long leg of Amir’s journey. From there, it was only 1,000 miles to Bermuda. The flight from Bermuda to the U.S. was just a few hundred miles.
Amir used some makeup to cover up his bruises and replicate the complexion in his passport photos as much as possible. It wasn’t perfect; he hoped it would do. It would have to.
He watched the Kazakhstan airport for the better part of the day, but saw no signs of his opponents. Buying the ticket to Barbuda and boarding the flight this afternoon would be his Achilles heel, but if he got out of Kazakhstan, the rest of his long planned journey should be smooth sailing.
ANYA SLEPT ON THE flight back to Dulles. She was reasonably well rested when she arrived. Walking through the terminal, she opened her contacts and tapped on Jake’s number.
“Anya, did you have a nice trip?” Jake asked.
A nice trip? What does he mean? He couldn’t possibly know where I was. And then it dawned on her, what her local associate would have said to him. “It was nice. I just decided to spend a couple of days sightseeing along the coast. But I’m back now. I remembered you said there are some nearby scenic jogging trails. I have some chores to take care of today. How about tomorrow? And lunch should be my treat this time.”
“Sounds great,” Jake replied. They decided on a place to meet at eleven o’clock.
Progress. The President should be pleased.
JAKE WAS STRUGGLING SOMEWHAT with the remote retrieval details of the Mossad software. He was generally in full command of all things technology, but this software was a bit foreign to him—literally. The manuals were not written to be read in English as well as Hebrew. It was tough sledding. He put a call into Abelson that afternoon. He was able to make a video conference call date to connect with Abelson the next morning at eight o’clock. That would give him ample time to square everything away in time to meet Anya for their outing.
CHAPTER 33
December 13, 2019, One Day Later
JAKE AND ABELSON WERE right on time for their video conference.
Jake put Abelson through his paces with tons of questions about the
Mossad software. He made a point, however, of not opening the software across the internet because he was speaking from Leah and Frank’s.
“Hey, sport, I wasn’t expecting all this,” Abelson said. “Do you want me to come on board your computer to illustrate some of the answers to your questions?”
“Nah, I don’t think we need to do that,” Jake answered.
“You mean, you’re avoiding triggering your IP address, right? You really are being pretty careful. We ought to put you to work for Mossad.”
Jake paused.
“Just kidding. Besides, you’ve come up the learning curve pretty quickly. I think you understand the software now better than I do.”
“Not really, but I’m getting there. It’s incredible. Wish I didn’t have to give it up so soon.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the way things work. Cinderella had to be home from the ball by midnight. I don’t want you to get too comfortable with all this stuff, Mr. Hacker.”
Jake made a point of looking at his watch.
“Something on your mind?” Abelson asked.
“Actually, I have a date soon with a lady I met on a recent flight. I don’t want to keep her waiting. How about if I play around with the software a bit and get back to you if I’m still having any difficulties?”
“Sure thing. Don’t want to keep that hot lady waiting. Call me anytime.”
Jake powered down his laptop and returned it to his backpack.
JAKE WAS BREATHING HEAVIER than he wanted Anya to realize. “I thought you told me you were worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me,” Jake said. “Seems like you were playing me.”
JK's Code (Brooks/Lotello Thriller Book 4) Page 10
