by J C Ryan
Rex got off him and pulled him out of the narrow space by his legs and propped him up against the front door of the container in a sitting position. He searched him and found a silenced Glock 19 and two spare magazines, a tactical fixed-blade knife, the man’s passport, and wallet. Rex replaced the passport and wallet, took a step back, shoved the knife into his own belt, and kept the gun in his hand—pointed at the unconscious man.
A minute or so later, the Frenchman let out a moan and opened his eyes. He shook his head which spread the blood streaming from his nose all over his face. His eyes were still a bit glazed, but eventually he was able to speak.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Answer to question one; depending on how well you cooperate with me, I might be your worst nightmare or just someone who passed by here. Answer to question two is actually twofold; one, I want to know who do you work for and two, why are you following Mademoiselle Lemaire?”
Rex kept the pistol pointed at the Frenchman who took a few moments to answer. Rex admired his restraint. Someone less well-trained would have been babbling indignantly. It was good reason for Rex not to underestimate this guy. He must have concluded that Rex was someone like himself, but more skilled, to have gotten the drop on him.
Only the tiniest flicker in the Frenchman’s eyes betrayed his surprise at the question. He countered. “Who is Mademoiselle Lemaire?”
Casually, Rex raised the gun and pointed it to a spot between the man’s eyes. “I’m on a very tight timeline here. Don’t play games.”
The Frenchman’s eyes went cockeyed for a moment as he looked down the barrel of his own gun, then he shifted his gaze to Rex’s eyes and must have gotten the message. “I am here on orders from my government.” He pressed his lips together as if to avoid saying more than he should.
“DGSE?”
The man made no reply.
“I’ll take that as a yes. But for the sake of your own health I’d suggest from now on you answer my questions.”
Rex backed farther away and gestured with the gun for the Frenchman to get up. “I know you aren’t alone. Take me to the others, and we’ll have a chat about your orders.”
With a lift of his chin, the Frenchman slowly shook his head. “Non.”
Rex grinned and pointed the gun to the agent’s left knee. “Oh, I think you will. The only question is how much damage are you willing to endure before you do it? Why not save yourself the trouble?”
The man must have realized that the gun pointed at his face was a bluff, this guy wasn’t going to kill him, not yet, but the gun pointing to his knee was a different story. This guy was going to pull that trigger and shatter his knee at any moment.
“You will be tried for treason for this!”
“Treason?” Rex was amused.
“You are French—from Paris, I can tell by your accent. You’re interfering with the work of a government agent. I’m on a mission of national importance and your meddling in this matter is treason.”
“Hmm, I see. Well, you might have a bit of a legal problem with that charge, I’m not French. But look, this is a waste of time. Will you cooperate, or are you ready to take a knee for France?”
With an air of complete bewilderment, and probably capitulation, the agent gave the signature Gallic shrug—raised shoulders, hands half way up, palms open, and a pout on his face, as if to say, have it your way. “I will cooperate.”
“What’s your name?”
“Louie.”
“Okay, Louie, where are you staying?”
“A motel about two blocks from here.”
With the gun, Rex motioned for the agent to start moving, “Go on, now, head out to your motel.” He spoke into the mic to Digger. “Stay. Hide.”
The Frenchman turned and started walking but stopped when he heard Rex and looked back, confused.
“Not talking to you, monsieur. You move. Carefully,” Rex added and nudged the Frenchman in the back with the Glock.
When they reached the exit and emerged into the city proper, Rex rolled the balaclava off his face to sit like a beanie on his head and closed the gap between them, concealing the pistol from casual view.
“How many of you were sent on this mission?” Rex knew there were three of them.
“Only two of us.”
Rex grabbed him by the shoulder but didn’t allow him to turn around and see his face. “Louie, for a trained DGSE agent, you have piss poor field craft skills. I’ve been following you and your buddies for a few days already. I know there are three of you. So, don’t lie to me ever again. Okay?”
Louie nodded and started walking again.
“So, let’s try that again. How many of you?”
“Three,” came the reply immediately.
“You’re sharing a suite at the motel, right?”
“Yes, two bedrooms.”
“And you drew the short straw because you’re the junior and therefore have to work the night shifts and sleep on the couch.”
Louie didn’t make a reply, but he stopped as if to ask, how the hell did you know that? But he must have remembered that Rex said he’d been watching them for a few days already. He just nodded and started walking again.
Rex grinned. His deductive reasoning was spot on so far and obviously had Louie off balance as to how much Rex really knew about them or not.
“Okay, Louie, now I want you to describe the layout of the apartment to me. But be very careful and very precise. I still have a very itchy trigger finger on this Glock of yours.”
Louie sighed in defeat and started describing in minute detail every feature, including the estimated measurements of the apartment.
When they were about hundred yards away from the motel, Rex told Louie to stop so he could give him some instructions. “Okay, here’s how it’s going to go down. We’re going to the door of your unit, you’ll swipe your card to get in and give any passcodes or signals to tell them everything is okay.
“Now, just in case you are contemplating any funny business, I will have your pistol in your back. You’ll be the first to die. If you survive that part, then as soon as the door is open, you’ll tell them not to touch their weapons, to put their hands up and keep them up. Got all that?”
Louie swallowed and nodded.
“No Louie, I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes, I got it.”
“Good. Now just to make sure you got it right, repeat it back to me in your own words.”
“I open the door with my card. I tell them to not touch their weapons, to put their hands up and keep them there.”
“And if you don’t do it. What’s going to happen?”
“You’re going to shoot me.”
“Yes, Louie. You’ve got that right, and the important thing to remember is you’ll be dead after I shoot you.”
“Yes, I’ve got it.”
“Excellent. I see you’re a good listener. Let’s go.”
Rex grinned again. He knew that if he did it like he’d described it to Louie, it was probably one of the worst plans he’d had in a long time. But as long as Louie thought that’s how it was going to go down and acted accordingly, there was a more than an average chance of success. After all, it already worked well earlier with Louie—surprise and overwhelming force.
The streets were clogged with the usual revelers making a lot of noise.
Well, that will work in my favor if I have to make some noise to get the truth out of these French assholes.
When they entered the hallway of the motel complex, Rex closed the gap between him and Louie and made good on his word that the gun would be pressed against the Frenchman’s back.
He increased the pressure of the gun’s muzzle in Louie’s back when they arrived at the door of the unit, while Louie retrieved his electronic card from his wallet and swiped it through the slot in the door lock. Rex could hear the sound on the TV coming from the inside and grinned.
Everything is working in my favor so far. I hope i
t stays so for a while longer.
With his left hand, Rex quickly pulled the balaclava back over his face. He told Louie to drop his pants, and when he hesitated, Rex pushed the pistol hard into his back. This persuaded Louie to do as he was told. When his pants were around his knees Rex told him to unlock the door. He waited until Louie pushed the door handle down and the door started opening, then placed his boot on Louie’s butt and pushed hard.
Louie tumbled into the room. Rex followed him and kicked back with his right foot to close the door behind him. He took a quick step to get up right behind Louie, and cold-cocked him with the pistol. Louie’s legs started to give way from under him, but Rex grabbed him from behind with his left arm around his throat, kept him on his feet and aimed the pistol over Louie’s shoulder at the two Frenchmen sitting on the couch watching TV, beer in hand.
Rex stood in the dimly-lit room and took in the scene in front of him. He had to suppress his urge to laugh when he saw the absolute shock and bewilderment on the faces of the two men on the well-worn sofa, their weapons stacked on a coffee table in front of them. They were stunned into paralysis, mouths ajar, unable to move or speak.
“Bonsoir. My apologies for barging in like this, but unfortunately, I’m in a bit of a hurry.” Rex decided not to ask them to turn the TV off. For starters, the remote sat on the table right next to their guns, and he didn’t want to give them any ideas by asking one of them to reach over and switch the TV off. In any case, the TV wasn’t so loud that they couldn’t hear each other, and the noise would help to disguise any noise they were going to make if a brawl ensued.
He let go of Louie who sagged to the floor. Rex put his foot on Louie’s neck and started talking to the two conscious but stupefied men. One was tall, probably around six feet, the other was short, probably around five eight or so. “Now, who wants to go first? I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about why you’re watching Mademoiselle Lemaire.”
When the two men remained silent, Rex said, “Oh, I see—you want some encouragement.” He leveled the pistol at the right foot of the tall one, seated on his left and said, “I’ve got fifteen rounds in the magazine, so we’ll start with the right foot, then the left foot, right knee, left knee, etcetera. I’ll work my way up until you’re dead, then start with your friend, and when Louie joins us again, I’ll carry on with him.”
“I will tell you!” The tall man shouted.
The short man elbowed him viciously, but he ignored it. “We are here on orders from our government. We were to find her and take her back to France for questioning on a matter of national security. That is all we know!”
“So, why didn’t you take her the day she arrived? You’ve been following her since she got off that yacht on day one.”
The two men exchanged glances, and the short one now spoke up. “We noticed others following her. We wanted to see if she met with them.”
“The Russians?”
The two men exchanged quick glances of surprise again and nodded in sync.
“And if she did?” Rex asked.
“Then we would have evidence with which to confront her,” said the short one.
“What matter of national security?” Rex continued.
“We were not given much detail, but by the looks of it, she could be in collusion with the Russians. They’re probably SVR agents.”
The SVR was the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service, successors of the infamous KGB.
“Well, you guys must be stupid or blind to believe that those Russian goons could be SVR agents. Or is it a matter of you desperately wanting them to be SVR, so that you could at least pin something on Mademoiselle Lemaire?”
They both started protesting.
“Okay, so then I’ll assume you are dimwitted French agents. I always thought France’s DGSE agents were selected for their brains and trained well. Seems to me, I stand to be corrected.”
The two men were obviously insulted in the extreme but there was nothing they could do about it other than bite on their tongues.
“Okay, now back to Mademoiselle Lemaire. Who gave you instructions and what information were you given before you embarked on this Vietnam excursion?”
The short one answered, “The Director of DGSE gave us instructions, which came from the Minister of Defense, who got his from the President.”
Ah so the President knows. Well, that answers that question then.
“What were you told?”
“That Mademoiselle Lemaire is endangering France by colluding with agents from a foreign country. That we are to apprehend her and bring her back to France.”
“Anything else?”
They shook their heads in sync.
“And that was good enough for you? You didn’t ask for more information?”
The two of them produced the Gallic shrug in unison, and the short one said, “Look, that’s what we were told, and that’s why we’re here. We’d been given very specific instructions not to hurt her in any way and just bring her back to France.”
Rex concluded that he was not going to get more information from these guys. Not because they wouldn’t give it, but because they knew nothing more. “Okay guys, I would’ve liked to hang around and have a beer with you, but I must be on my way now. Maybe next time.
“But before I go. Just so you don’t waste too much of your taxpayers’ money sitting around here waiting for Mademoiselle Lemaire to turn up, she’s left the country again. Said something about not liking the weather and then all these stalkers, Russians, French, and who knows who else. I suggest you guys saddle up and ride out of town. I am sure there are some other real bad guys elsewhere in the world more deserving of your attention than an innocent woman.”
“But… we have instructions… we can’t...” the tall one started.
“Guys,” Rex interjected, “seriously, if I find you anywhere near her any time after tonight, you will be three very sorry frog eaters. Believe me.”
They made no reply.
Rex moved toward the table with the weapons and gathered them in his arms. That was when the short one made the mistake of trying to stop him. Dropping everything he had in his arms, Rex met the charging Frenchman with a Krav Maga block, used the man’s own momentum to propel him through the air headfirst into the kitchen wall, and braced for the next charge.
The tall one came at him with his head down like a charging bull. Rex waited for him, and when he was within range, delivered a kick to his face, which flipped him right over on his back. Lights out.
The short one had semi-recovered from his encounter with the kitchen wall and charged in. Rex met him with an uppercut that broke his jaw and laid him out on the floor on his back. The fight was over.
Louie was just starting to stir, he’d be up in about another two minutes. Rex would be long gone by then. He didn’t want to mete out more punishment to the three of them. After all, they were citizens of a NATO country, an ally of the United States.
Rex straightened his shoulders, gathered the weapons again, and said, “I’d advise you guys to pack up and go back to France. The wine is good, and the women are beautiful.” But he suspected none of them heard what he said.
Rex left with the pistols and knives. He started taking the weapons apart as he walked and dropping them in trash receptacles as he passed them on his way back to the harbor to collect Digger. He made sure to wipe his prints off every piece before discarding it.
With the weapons all gone, he pulled out his satphone and pushed the speed dial for Rehka. “Rehka, Margot should be well on her way to you now. We had a bit of a hold up here earlier, and I missed my flight. So, I’m going to need the next one out. Can you please have a look and find me one?”
“Are you okay, Ruan?”
“I’m great, haven’t felt so good in a long while.”
Rex also gave her a description of what Margot looked like in her disguise.
Rehka knew not to ask more questions. “You’ve got it, boss.
I’ll get back to you in a few.”
The call came just as he reached Digger’s location. “What have you got for me?”
“There’s a flight leaving in three hours. Can you make it?”
“Thanks. Book it. I’ll do my best.”
***
FEELING ASSURED THAT there’d be no more trouble from the French, Rex nevertheless took a circuitous route to the port. He had retrieved his backpack and Digger, changed back into more normal-looking clothing in the concealment of the bushes, and then headed back to the busy streets to find a taxi.
Within a few minutes, he and Digger were in the back of a taxi, and he gave the driver instructions to take a roundabout route to the airport, though he was conscious of the passing time. Once he was convinced he wasn’t being followed, he had the taxi speed down the highway to drop him off at the airport and prepared to board his flight to Mumbai.
Rehka had asked him whether he’d rather wait for a confirmed seat or try to grab a standby spot, and he’d opted for confirmed because he couldn’t be certain he would be able to get Digger on the flight at the last minute if he chose standby. There was no way he’d be putting Digger into baggage and then not getting a seat himself, although Rehka could be there to meet Digger on the other side. However, even though it required a wait, he was able to find a seat in the waiting area with his back to the wall and a clear view of the rest of the area. If any suspicious characters showed up, he’d spot them. He had only two hours to wait after putting Digger into the care of the baggage handlers. Between that and the flight time of almost eight hours, it would be a long wait for Digger but nothing he hadn’t endured before. It would have to do.
Chapter 45
Mumbai, India
SOME NINE HOURS later, Rehka met him at baggage claims at Mumbai airport, where he was waiting for Digger to clear customs.
