† † †
Jake stretched, working out the kinks from sitting too long as the CIA Challenger jet descended over the Cantabrian Sea toward a spit of land along the Spanish-French border. Located along the Bidasoa River in the port town of Hondarribia, the San Sebastian airport was sixteen kilometers east of town. He’d been to Spain once before—when he was seventeen—not the northern coast but southern and central Spain. He struggled to remember what it was like but he could only conjure vague recollections of Madrid, the bull-fighting arena in Valencia where he’d met the toreadors, and the Mediterranean coastline. Even though he was only in his thirties, it was too long ago to vividly recall.
He’d spent the hours on the jet thinking about the note Wiley left him and his impending rendezvous at Peine del Viento—Comb of the Wind. He detected a tone of anger in Wiley’s words, his granddaughter harmed in the Paris attacks, and the man, who seemed to always be in control, wanted revenge.
So did Jake.
The jet landed then turned around and taxied back down the runway until it reached an exit to the ramp. Before the pilots could shut down the engines, two Spanish customs and immigration officers were walking toward the aircraft. After a cursory search of the cabin, the men left.
“That was quick.” Jake said. “I imagine Bentley ran interference since they didn’t look for squat.”
“Just checking a box.” Kaplan pointed out the open cabin door. “Here comes our ride.”
Jake and Kaplan grabbed the duffle bags and went to meet the agent Bentley sent from Madrid. As they reached the light gray sedan, a small man got out and opened the trunk. “Christopher Perez.” He stuck out his hand. “Call me Chris.”
Kaplan grabbed his hand and gave it a shake. “Gregg Kaplan. This is Jake Pendleton.”
When Kaplan released his grip, Perez rubbed his palm, opening and closing his fingers. “Quite a grip you got there, Kaplan.”
Perez slammed the trunk closed. “Let’s go. I secured three rooms in town about three blocks from the Hotel Maria Cristina, where Mr. Arlo Delgado is staying. I have a man watching the hotel right now. So far today, Delgado hasn’t left the hotel.”
“Have you seen him yet? Can you ID him as Khan?” Jake asked.
“Inside that folder you’ll find all the photos we have.” Perez accelerated the sedan away from the airport. “You can compare them yourselves. The descriptions match in every way. But, as you can see, even our best photo isn’t a full frontal.”
Jake held up two photos. “That’s our man, I'd bet my life on it. Only without the beard and the hair. Look at the eyes, that’s how you can tell. Dark and evil.”
“I don’t know, Jake.” Kaplan said. “We’ll need better confirmation before we make a move on him. Let’s get there and take a look for ourselves.”
“I’m telling you, that’s Khan.” Jake said.
Twenty minutes later the three men entered the Pension Santa Clara. Jake and Kaplan carried their duffle bags while they followed Perez to his room where he gave the two men weapons.
“There you go gentlemen.” Perez pointed toward the bed. “Glock 19, nine millimeter handguns with screw-on suppressors, three nineteen-round magazines each with hollow-point bullets. All ready to go. Bentley said if either of you need fifty-seven shots, you deserve to be dead.”
Jake checked his watch, a quarter after one. According to Wiley’s note he needed to be at Comb of the Wind by 2:30 to meet Wiley’s contact. He’d thought about it on the long flight to Spain and couldn’t imagine what Wiley could offer that Bentley and Fontaine hadn’t already briefed them on. If he’d learned anything from Wiley, it was not to underestimate the man. He was a man with unlimited resources and unlimited connections. Jake supposed being in the spy business for over fifty years brought a lot to the table.
He also suspected Bentley had told Kaplan to keep an eye on him, and make sure he didn’t do something rash—like kill Khan before the CIA could get to him.
But that’s exactly what Jake intended to do.
CHAPTER 54
J
AKE’S FIRST ORDER of business was to lose Kaplan and Perez. He had a plan he hoped would work. According to Perez’s man, room service just delivered a large meal to Arlo Delgado’s suite. Figuring it would be at least an hour before Khan showed himself, Jake made his first move.
“Let’s eat, I’m hungry.” Jake said. “I’m sure there’s a café close by.”
“More like a dozen or so within three or four blocks. This is the Old Town part of San Sebastian. It is considered a pedestrian area,” Perez explained. “Everything is within walking distance.”
“We can eat later.” Kaplan argued. “We have work do to.”
“Look Gregg.” Jake stuffed his Glock in the back of his pants and the magazines in his jacket pocket. “I’m going to get something to eat while we have a few minutes. We might not get a chance later—once Khan is on the move. You two can come with me or you can sit here and starve. Your call.”
“Fine.” Kaplan seemed reluctant to start an argument in front of Perez. “Let’s just make it fast. I want to be there when Khan comes out of the hotel.”
Perez opened the door. “I know a place where the service is fast, the food good, and the prices reasonable.”
The three men exited Pension Santa Clara to a walking street labeled San Lorenzo. Within a few minutes they stepped inside a modern and welcoming café called Sidreria Donostiarra.
“I thought you said reasonable prices.” Jake said. “Have you ever looked at the menu?”
“The food is excellent.” Perez laughed.
“Why did you bring us here?” Kaplan grumbled.
“Because the desserts are to die for.” Perez said.
“Odd choice of words.” Kaplan said. “Because if we miss Khan, that might be what happens.”
They were seated at a table next to the window where Jake watched the hordes of pedestrians stroll by as if they had nowhere to go. No one seemed in a hurry. The trio ordered sandwiches and waited too long before the order was brought to the table. Jake glanced at his watch, 1:45. It was getting close to time for him to elude Kaplan’s constant monitoring of him and make his way to Piene del Vientos where he was to meet his blind date.
Jake finished his sandwich well ahead of the other two. “That was good.” Jake stood up. “Time to make a head run.”
“Don’t take too long.” Kaplan complained. “We’re short on time.”
Jake could tell Kaplan wasn’t expecting him to disappear this soon. “Keep your sense of humor, Gregg. We might need it later.”
Jake scoped out the location of the restrooms as soon as they arrived at the café, noting who went in and when they came out. The men’s room was the first room down the hall and he could tell by the floor plan that it backed up to the kitchen. He saw men waiting outside the door several times so he knew it was a one-man facility. The women’s room was at the end of the hall and he'd noticed numerous occasions when more than one woman entered at a time. And each time the door opened, Jake could see the reflection of outside light—meaning it had a window. He just hoped the window was large enough to squeeze through.
Jake walked down the hall, glancing back to see Kaplan’s watchful glare. He grabbed the knob. Locked. As he knew it would be. Jake bounced up and down enough to let Kaplan see his urgency, and then he walked to the women’s room. He gave Kaplan a ‘
what the hell’
look and stepped inside. Jake had watched this room carefully, he was sure it was empty.
Jake opened the door and slipped inside, locking the door behind him. He heard a shuffle behind him.
“I beg your pardon. This is
not
the men’s room.”
Jake turned. A brunette was standing at the mirror touching up her makeup. She was older, he guessed mid-forties and wore a tight black dress, spiked heels with ankle straps, and was quite attractive.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was empty.” Jake pleaded his case. “And I really have to get out of here.”
Not part of Jake’s plan, not Plan A, anyway. “Look, I can’t hide in here much longer. I was having a drink at the bar and asked a woman for a date. Her boyfriend wasn’t very happy about it.”
“Not a smart move.” Her eyes scanned him up and down. She smiled. “You should have waited for me. You’re luck might have been better.”
Think fast, Jake.
“Now I wish I had. You’re a beautiful woman. Get me out of here and I'll buy you dinner. Can I can meet you somewhere?” He couldn’t believe what he was saying.
She laughed. “You’re cute. Not very smooth, but cute.”
Jake walked to the window and opened it as far as it would go. The opening was large enough to crawl through. Now to see how gullible the woman was.
“Are we on?”
She grinned. “We’re on. When and where?”
“How about at the end of the Boulevard by the water. Say, six o'clock? Then we'll go wherever you'd like. I owe you that much.” He pulled himself to the window ledge.
“I’ll be there.” Her voice turned sultry. “Let me give you a little push.”
“Thanks.” He moved through the window opening and felt the woman’s hand run up his leg to his groin, then squeeze his buttocks.
“Nice and tight.” She said. “That’s why I love younger men.”
He felt himself flush. He crawled out the window and dropped to the ground.
At first, he thought he’d made a mistake. The area behind the café was blocked off with no apparent way out but up—and no way to get
up.
He followed a wall that led him through a maze of nooks and crannies until he caught a glimpse of a street. He exited through a barred six-foot gate, fortunately not locked, which landed him on a narrow pedestrian street. He glanced at his watch, 2:00. He had to hurry; he had over three kilometers to run and only thirty minutes to get there. He had a problem, though. He’d lost his bearings in the maze and had to regain them fast without exposing himself to the café he'd just exited.
He used the shadows stretching from the structures around him to help him get his bearings. Soon he was standing on the Boulevard, the main walking street in Old Town San Sebastian.
The opportunity made him smile, a vendor was renting bicycles to tourists. Jake paid the man double, explaining he’d left his ID in his room, and then started pedaling down the route he’d already planned prior to their arrival in Spain.
By now, he concluded, Kaplan would have discovered he’d slipped out of the café and would be contacting Bentley. When he returned, he knew Kaplan would be mad but he’d get over it. Then together they would track down Arlo Delgado—Khan.
CHAPTER 55
G
REGG KAPLAN STARED at the bathroom door, waiting, wondering what was taking Jake so long. He almost went after him when he saw Jake go in the women’s room instead of the men’s room but Perez talked him out of it. “When you got to go, you got to go.” Perez said. Now Kaplan was getting suspicious.
He panicked when the door opened and the person Kaplan saw leaving the restroom was not Jake but a woman. He rushed down the hall pushing two women from the restroom entry and burst inside. He pushed open the stall doors. Nothing.
Perez followed behind Kaplan, tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed to the open window. “Looks like he ditched us.”
“Son of a bitch.” Kaplan stormed out of the room looking for the woman in the black dress. “Bentley is going to be pissed. We need to find the woman who just came out.”
“You mean the hot one? She’s over at that table.” Perez pointed to a couple seated at a rear table.
It was definitely the woman who had been in the bathroom with Jake and she was whispering in the ear of an older man with a shaved head and goatee. She had her purse tucked under her arm and started to stand when Kaplan walked over to the table. “Excuse me, ma’am. But did a man come in the restroom while you were in there?”
“Yeah. He told me what happened with your girlfriend.” She said. “Seems he made a mistake and was afraid you were so upset with him that you might try to do something about it.”
“I’m not here with a girlfriend. I’m here on business.” Kaplan grabbed her arm and squeezed. “Now where did he go?”
“Oww. That hurts.” The woman frowned. “I don’t know where he went. Out the window.” She yanked her arm free.
Kaplan motioned to Perez. “Come on, let’s move.”
“Where to?”
“The Hotel Maria Christina.” Kaplan motioned at Perez’s cell phone. “Call your man and tell him to be on the lookout for Jake.”
“What do you think Mr. Pendleton is going to do?”
“I don’t think, I know. Jake missed Khan in Paris. Wiley’s granddaughter was injured and hundreds of innocent people were killed and even more injured. Jake is going to kill Khan.” Kaplan started running. “We have to make sure he doesn’t get to him first.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. He knows we’re staking the place out. He knows we’re watching.”
“One thing I’ve learned about Jake is he’s unpredictable.” Kaplan pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial for CIA Director Scott Bentley. “That’s also what makes him dangerous.”
“But he still has to get through us to get to Khan.”
“You don’t understand. If Jake went after Khan, then he’s already gotten past your man and Khan is as good as dead.”
† † †
Jake pedaled across the courtyard in front of the San Sebastian Town Hall, past the carousel, and down Paseo de la Concha, the two-and-a-half kilometer walkway next to Playa de la Concha—shell beach. The late October sky was laced with streaks of cirrus clouds, sun sparkling off the ice crystals high above. The winds were light and the temperature unseasonably warm for the time of year. Jake noticed dozens of sun worshippers along the beach in a last ditch effort to grab a suntan prior to November’s impending chill.
Even at low tide the beach narrowed into non-existence as he approached Pico del Loro, a rocky finger that jutted out into the crystalline waters of Bahia de la Concha pointing toward Isla Santa Clara, the small island that guarded the entrance to the bay. Across the road from the rocky abutment, atop a hill sat Palacio de Miramar.