Counterblow

by Ethan Jones

  “Yes, it was good. Glad it worked.”

  “It wouldn’t have without your help, Matthias.”

  He didn’t answer right away. “Yeah, but nothing will bring back Yael,” he said in a somber tone.

  “True, but you can be at peace knowing her blood is avenged.”

  “Maybe in time.”

  “Yeah, I hope so.”

  “I’ll let you know if they suspect anything of me or you. As things stand, everyone believes it was an operation that just went wrong.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  “Where are you now, Javin?”

  “Getting the heck out of the area.”

  “Good luck. And thanks for everything you’ve done… for her.”

  “The least I can do, Matthias. She was a dear friend.”

  “She was a precious soul. Greatly missed.”

  “By all, Matthias.”

  “Alright, Javin. I’ll let you go. We’ll keep in touch.”

  “By all means.”

  He drew in a sigh of relief. If Mossad is satisfied with the results of the op, they’ll be less likely to leave no stone unturned to figure out what happened. And if no one finds the drone, then this might wrap up well.

  He drove for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the solitude. There wasn’t much traffic on the road, but he still needed to be careful as vehicles slowed down and stopped on the side of the highway with little notice. Whenever he came near villages or towns, pedestrians would cross the highway without much regard for their own life or the lives of drivers around them.

  Javin picked up the phone to call Mila, who spoke before he could, “Javin, I had started to worry about you…” Her voice rang with sincere concern.

  “How… how did you know it was me?”

  “You’re the only one calling from strange numbers like this one with a Baghdad prefix.”

  Javin smiled. “What can I say? I love sightseeing.”

  “Yes, Baghdad is the number one travel destination this year.”

  “Damascus came in a close second.”

  “About Syria, I hear you left behind a trail of dead bodies.”

  “People like to exaggerate…”

  “I don’t think so. Twenty people dead and ten wounded.”

  “Maybe; I didn’t count. None of them were innocent, I can tell you that.”

  “Javin, I’m not blaming you. I just wish this was a bit quieter; that you had kept a lower profile.”

  “That would have been my preference too, but it didn’t depend on me.”

  “I know how things unfold, so you don’t have to explain. Do you need anything for exfil?”

  “No, I’ve got it under control. I’ll be out of Iraq tomorrow and in Canada the next day.”

  “Oh, take your time. There’s no rush.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Things are good up here, Javin.”

  He sensed excitement in her voice, so he asked, “Good news?”

  “Excellent news. My team in America found the broker who had helped the traitor purchase a French passport. It didn’t take much to make him talk.”

  “You’re very persuasive.”

  “We do what we can,” Mila said in a playful tone. “He gave us a couple of names, old contacts of the traitor. He still kept in touch with one of them. He had an address to a house just outside Toronto.”

  “What did he say?”

  “It’s not what he said, but what he did. We made him invite Tarasov for a meal.”

  “And he fell for it?”

  “Wouldn’t you? An old friend you trust asks you to come to his house and break bread. Wouldn’t you go?”

  “I’d be suspicious.”

  “And so was the traitor. He came early, with a couple of bodyguards armed as if they were going to war.”

  Javin frowned. “How did it go down?”

  “How we expected it to go down. The coward surrendered without much of a fight. Even if he had fought hard, it would have been useless.”

  “Where’s Tarasov?”

  “Still in the country. This just happened last evening.”

  “That’s too bad. I missed the party.”

  “I would have wanted you around, but you were busy and had your own shindig going on.”

  “True. So, what do you need from me?”

  “We need to get him out of the country. We can’t just tie him up and throw him in a bag. It might work in a third world country, not in Canada.”

  “So, you need a passport?”

  “No, he has one, brand new, Russian. We just need someone at the border to stamp it and let us go through with Tarasov.”

  Javin thought about Mila’s request. Securing information about a specific individual who had crossed the border was one thing. Convincing a border services officer to turn a blind eye while the Russian SVR agents carried out a kidnapping was something completely different. “I’ll try, Mila, but this is extremely difficult.”

  “That’s why I need you, Javin. You’re the best.”

  Javin grinned. “Not really, but thank you.”

  “And you’re modest too.”

  “Eh, I do what I can. Give me a day to figure out how it’s going to work.”

  “Here’s my idea: We’ll drug him up, so he’ll look like he had a long evening of hard partying, and he’s tired and drunk, barely able to stay on his feet. Your friend takes a quick look, waves us through the border, and that’s it.”

  “That might work.”

  “We need to make sure it does. We’ve got one shot to do this right.”

  “We will, Mila. Just let me see who’s willing to take the risk.”

  “There’s good money for the brave man or woman.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Moreover, I might be able to return some of that loan.”

  “What loan, Javin? I have no idea.”

  “Good one, Mila.”

  “The loan’s forgiven.”

  “But not forgotten. Look, I want to even things out. Once Tarasov has crossed the border, and the plane has taken off, we’re even. I don’t mean I won’t ever work with you again, but I want a fresh start.”

  Mila didn’t reply right away. “Javin, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’m hiding nothing from you. You’ve been a major help in this op, which I couldn’t have even started without you. But I don’t want to owe you or your service anything.”

  “You don’t owe us anything, Javin.”

  “That might be the case, but I don’t feel free.”

  “Oh, I see. And you think money will buy you freedom?”

  “No, your willingness will buy me freedom. We both know how things work. We’ve played a game of favors for a long time. I don’t mind it, but I want to level the playing field.”

  “I’m not the one who decides on that, Javin,” Mila said in a reluctant voice.

  “I know, but you can make my case. We’ll still work together, but as equals.”

  “Huh, equals?”

  “Yes. Too much to ask for?”

  “No, not really. I’d say it’s fair.”

  “Okay.”

  “My boss might disagree with me.”

  “And he might have to find another way to get Tarasov out.”

  “Or he might decide to play tough…”

  “He wouldn’t be the only one…”

  Mila sighed. “Javin, you’re the one who stands to lose the most if things go sideways.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. You have a traitor that you need to extract out of Canada. The scandal, if news came out, would be devastating, for you personally, your boss, and Russia’s reputation.”

  “Really? What would happen to you if Iranians learned who killed their commander? And if the Syrian government heard about your attack against their troops? And if the Chinese found out who stole their drone?”

  Thank God she didn’t mention Mossad. Is it because she doesn’t know? J
avin sighed and thought about his answer. “Precisely, Mila. We all have so much to lose if we work against one another. Convince your boss that this is the last thing I owe, and I’ll get it done.”

  “I’ll need some time, Javin, and no guarantees it’s going to work.”

  “I understand that. And that’s why I need you, Mila. You’re the best.”

  She let out a peal of sad laugh. “I don’t think so, Javin, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “Good. Now, I’m curious about Beijing. When I called you from K-stan, you told me you knew everything about what happened in Beijing. What does that mean?”

  “It’s one of those things that we do for one another when we work as a team that we don’t even mention.”

  “But you mentioned it.”

  “Only to show the extent of our involvement and that we didn’t leave you alone.”

  Javin nodded. “So what did you do in Beijing?”

  “We covered your back. The Chinese security operatives chased you and your contact, Fang, after you left the restaurant. They would have caught up to you and arrested you.”

  “That wouldn’t have happened.”

  “It didn’t happen, because we didn’t allow it.”

  Mila’s voice took on a prideful tone, but Javin decided to let it slide and not interrupt her. She continued, “So my team on the ground took care of them.”

  “Killed them?”

  “Neutralized the threat. And we did the same with the officers that came after you and Fang at the inn.”

  “Again, I had full control of the situation.”

  “Did you, Javin? Really? Did you know Fang was being followed, and he led the police to your hideout?”

  Javin had suspected that was the case, but he didn’t have any evidence. Fang had denied it when Javin had asked him.

  Mila said, “He might be a fantastic hacker, but the man can’t lose surveillance to save his life… How’s he doing, by the way?”

  “The surgery went well, but the infection is still there. He’s recovering, but slowly.”

  “What are his plans?”

  “He can’t go back to China; that’s for sure. He’s hoping to make it to another country.”

  “The money should help.”

  “Always does.”

  “And the rest of your team?”

  “They’re going back. They’ve kept their identities hidden.”

  “Or so they believe.”

  “Yes, and I hope it’s true.”

  “So do I, Javin. Anything else you want to know?”

  “Yes, when is your man delivering the money?”

  “Three days from today, as scheduled. He’s dropping it off to the Beijing contact.”

  “One last thing: the name of your mole inside my agency.”

  “Oh, I thought you had forgotten about him.”

  “Really?” Javin’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “No. I’ll send you his name and some of the intel he gave us.”

  Javin nodded. That was the Russian way, using someone until he had no more value and tossing him away like a dirty rag. “Good. That’s it, then.”

  “Okay. Let me talk to my boss and get back to you. Is this number good?”

  “Yes, but don’t call after 6:00 p.m. my time.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Just don’t call, Mila.”

  “Alright, Javin. No need to get testy.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had a long day and night and haven’t slept much.”

  “Well, I’ll let you go then, so you can rest.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We’ll talk soon.”

  “Bye, Mila.”

  “Take care, Javin.”

  He ended the call and drew in a deep breath. If I don’t owe Mila anything, I can have a fresh start. And if things go wrong with my boss and the inquiry committee, it’s a fresh start with Liberty, and her alone.

  The thought of spending some quality time with her sent a jolt of encouragement through his body. He stepped on the gas, flying along the highway. He still needed to call his contact at the CBSA and arrange for Tarasov’s crossing through the border.

  “Not now,” he said to himself. “I need a break. I need to think about Liberty and how life would be if it were just her and me…”

  He thought about her on and off throughout the entire trip. When he arrived at the camp outside Mosul that evening, he fell into her arms, kissing her passionately. He felt sad about what he had been missing all this time in his life. But he also felt happy to have her as he held her tight against his body, promising to himself never to let her go…

  Chapter Thirty

  The Next Day

  Mosul, Iraq

  Javin tried to do as little work as possible, managing to get most of it done early in the morning, when Liberty was still asleep. Mila called him to confirm that her boss had agreed to Javin’s terms: Once he assisted them with Tarasov, his debt was fully paid. He wouldn’t owe them anything, and there’d be no need for Javin to return any of the money he had received. He insisted, but Mila didn’t want to hear it. Too much trouble, she said more than once. Too much paperwork and explanations.

  That had been the easiest part.

  The hardest part came when Javin tried to convince his CBSA contact to help him find someone willing not only to bend the law or simply ignore it, but to completely throw it down and stomp on it with both feet. However, half a million dollars was too much of a temptation. A border services officer barely made 60,000 dollars, less after the government collected its taxes. Almost a ten-year salary for less than two minutes of “work” was something very few people could resist.

  Javin’s contact knew just the right guy.

  Liberty woke up as Javin was finishing the arrangements. He stepped into the bedroom for some privacy while she freshened up and proceeded to make breakfast. When he walked into the small kitchen, he was met by the delicious smell of fried turkey bacon and eggs. “Oh, now you have time for me,” Liberty said with a playful pout. She had wrapped a flowery apron around her waist and had tied her blonde hair into a messy ponytail.

  “I always have time for you, hon. Just needed to finish something.” He walked to her and gave her a quick kiss. “Mmmm, tasty.”

  “It’s the bacon. I tried a piece.”

  Javin went for the slices of bacon heaped on a plate next to the small gas stove, but Liberty smacked his hand with the wooden spoon.

  “Hey,” he complained and rubbed his hand.

  “Not so fast, secret agent man…” she laughed.

  Javin returned the laugh. “I love you, Liberty.” He went in for another long, deep, passionate kiss and held her in his arms.

  “I’m going to burn the bacon…”

  “Do I care?”

  “I do. Let me finish now. Go make a phone call or something.”

  “It’s all done.”

  “Then I don’t know. Clean your gun.”

  Javin smiled. “Did it while you were asleep.”

  “Go for a run. And get us some dates at one of the vendors by the main gate. It’s the old woman with the rusty cart.”

  “How many?”

  “A handful. You like dates, right?”

  “I love dates. Everything sweet.”

  “Same here, but I can’t have too many.”

  “Why not?”

  “I… I just can’t.” She shrugged and flicked the end of the ponytail over her left shoulder.

  “Okay, I’m out.”

  He closed the trailer’s door behind him and looked at the row of grayish and blue tents and trailers stretching as far as the eye could see. The camp housed over 2,000 families or about 10,000 refugees at any given time. Liberty’s trailer, as the camp’s deputy manager, was slightly better furnished than the tents, with just the bare necessities of life and work. She lived and worked in perhaps eight hundred square feet, including the tiny bathroom, with an even tinier shower.

  He walke
d slowly along the main dusty trail leading to the entrance. Some of the residents were still asleep, as it was just fifteen minutes past seven, but many were standing by their tents, sipping tea or coffee, smoking, or talking on their phones or among themselves. A few nodded at Javin, who returned the greetings. Children in mismatched or tattered clothes chased one another or kicked a ball around.

  Javin chatted briefly with two of the security guards stationed outside the camp. It had been a quiet night, without gunshots or any other trouble. He crossed through the steel panel gate and meandered through the small makeshift bazaar that popped up every morning outside the camp, with vendors hoping to make a few sales off the residents and their visitors.

  The old woman selling dates was sitting at her usual location, about twenty meters to the right side of the gate. She was dressed in a brown abaya and a blue hijab, the headdress wrapped around her hair and neck. She was still setting up her merchandise, dried fruit, and nuts, in small, neat piles of about ten or so. She smiled at Javin, who was most likely her first customer of the day, giving him a hopeful toothless smile.

  Javin said, “Salam Alaykum,” and placed his hand on the right side of his chest.

  “Alaykum Salam,” the woman replied. Her smile grew bigger when Javin stopped in front of her rickety table. “Come and buy now… Everything is good, the dates, figs, almonds. Good prices. I also have honey.” She shifted in her seat and reached into a large duffel bag to her side.

  “I’ll get some dates, that’s all.”

  “Sure, sure. Whatever you want. How many?”

  “Those two heaps.”

  “Only that? These are the best dates in Iraq. Have some more.” She began to put the dates in a small plastic bag she produced from one of her abaya pockets.

  “Sure, make it three.”

  “Four?”

  “Just three, thanks. I’ll come back later if I need more.”

  “These won’t last long. They’ll be all gone in an hour.”

  Javin smiled. It was an exaggeration, but a good sales tactic. “Three is good, but I’ll get one of those honey jars.”

  He had made some coffee when Liberty was still asleep and had found it very bitter. He had looked for sugar or honey, but didn’t find any without turning all the cupboards upside down.

  “Sure, here you go,” the old woman handed him the largest jar of perhaps one kilogram.