Without Options (26 page)

Security was fairly high, but the systems weren’t infallible. So when Jake came to his target house, one of the nicer houses in the row, he quickly went to work disabling the system and entering through the back alley entrance. Once inside, he stopped and removed his shoes, which were wet and would squeak on the wooden floors.

Now, on the second floor master suite, Jake sat in a chair next to the large bed, his gun out, the barrel itching his aching replaced knee. In the bed, the two people lay sleeping, the man’s breathing somewhat uneven, and the woman on her side facing away.

Jake thought of the best way to approach the man, but there really was no good way to wake a dangerous man from his sleep. He just needed to try not to make too much noise. A hand over the mouth? Too much? A gentle nudge? Maybe.

Without more thought, Jake simply reached over and took the man’s hand, his gun hand, and held it tight. When the man’s eyes opened and realized it wasn’t his wife holding him, he panicked for a split second. Until Jake put the barrel of his gun to his lips and said “Shhhh.”

Rolling to his side toward Jake, the man tried to focus his eyes in the dark room, which was lit somewhat by the street lights out front and two night lights.

“Jesus Christ,” the man whispered loudly.

Jake let go of his hand. “I prefer Lord and Savior.”

“Jake, what the hell are you doing here?” the man whispered loudly.

Nodding his head toward the door, Jake led the man outside the bedroom. They went down the hall to a study, where the homeowner clicked on a small light. The guy was bare-chested and wearing only pajama bottoms.

“Transformers,” Jake said, taking a seat in a chair across from a large desk that took up much of the room. The study reminded Jake of something a tidy professor might own, with full bookshelves taking up one whole wall.

“Birthday present last year from my kids,” the man said. “Now, can you explain why you’ve broken into my house at two in the morning?”

“Have a seat.”

Reluctantly, the man sat into the large leather chair behind the desk.

“It looks like the Agency pays a lot better than I remember,” Jake said to him.

“It’s a station chief perk. I don’t own the place. How did you get in here?”

“I’ll tell you how to upgrade your security system later, Hank, but first I need your help.”

“Couldn’t you just have come by the office in the morning?”

“What? Make a damn appointment?” Jake had been senior to Hank Roberts when he was in the CIA, and the two of them had worked together many times in Germany and other locations in Europe.

“Hey, you left the Agency,” Hank pled. “It’s taken me a long time to get here. And I understand you’ve done quite well for yourself. Especially after that recent case in Bulgaria. That’s a lot of booty.”

“Speaking of booty. . .looks like you and Karen are pumping them out like rabbits.”

“Hey.” It was a woman’s voice from the door. A severely pregnant woman, but terminally attractive nonetheless.

Jake got up and met her, hugging her as close as he could considering her condition. “Sorry to wake you.”

“It wasn’t you,” she said. “I have to pee every five minutes. What are you doing here so late? Don’t tell me. I know, you’d have to kill me.” She waved her hand and drifted away. “Nice to see you again, Jake. Come by for dinner after I drop this one out.” As she turned and left, Jake noticed an automatic pistol clipped to her pajama bottoms at the small of her back.

Alone again, Jake said to Hank, “Karen hasn’t changed a bit. Does she miss working for the Agency?”

“When she’s that prego, damn right. You want something to drink?”

“No. I’ll get out of your way in a hurry. Let you get back to sleep. But I need a little information.”

The Berlin station chief looked somewhat concerned. Like he knew he was going to lie to Jake, but also knew that Jake would know he was lying. “You know I can’t talk about any op we’re working.”

“How about an exchange of information then?”

Hank considered that. “You first.”

Jake expected that. “All right.” He explained what had happened to him in the past few days, right up to the point where he was forced to shoot the young couple that night outside the old Stasi’s apartment.

“You had drinks with that Stasi bastard?” Hank inquired.

“I needed information,” Jake said. “And got it.” He told his friend about the man’s theory about the surge in Russian SVR influence, and how Jake had suspected as much. “You have to be seeing similar things, Hank.”

The Agency man nodded his head. “Yeah, we’re a little concerned. Becoming quickly outnumbered here.”

“What are the Russians trying to accomplish?”

“Influence mostly. For now. But they’re back to their old games. Stealing any high technology they can grab with their grubby hands. But these are a different breed, Jake.”

He knew that first-hand. “You mean how they seem to be shooting first and not even trying to ask questions?”

“Exactly. During the Cold War there was a civility. Honor. We were all doing our job for our respective countries. Sometimes it got brutal, but that was the exception. Mostly the thing of spy novels. I don’t know where they’re getting these young agents. . .”

“Probably from the children of the Russian mafia.” Either that or they were also reading spy novels.

“You might be right.” Hank sat back in his chair, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. “What’s your play in this?” he asked Jake.

“You heard about my girlfriend, Anna?”

“Yeah, sorry to hear about that.”

“We were going to get married.”

“Oh, Jesus. I didn’t know that. Jake Adams married? Now there’s a news flash.”

“Yeah, I had asked her just before the shooting started. So I didn’t have long to settle in to it myself.”

“How can I help you?”

“Stay out of my way.”

Hank Roberts didn’t flinch, as if he expected Jake to respond as he had. “Stay out? I should be telling you the same thing, considering my position here.”

“But much of your office is at that conference in Brussels,” Jake said.

“How’d you. . .never mind. Yeah, we’re a bit stretched, but we still have assets to handle this.”

“Maybe. But if I handle it for you, you have complete deniability.”

“Yeah, that works these days. They’ll shove their boot so far up my ass I’ll be chewing leather for a week.”

“I didn’t say you wouldn’t take some heat, but that’s why you make the big bucks, Hank.”

The station chief thought it over, his eyes giving away more than he liked, Jake was sure. “All right. Our people will hang back and take a back-up role. But if you need anything, just call my private number. You obviously remember that. Now can I get some sleep?”

Jake got up, satisfied he’d accomplished his main goal, to let the Agency know he’d be around and not shoot him by mistake. He knew Hank couldn’t stay out of it, nor would Jake expect him to do so. But he also had a feeling he might need the extra guns. The Russians were making a King’s Gambit and Jake couldn’t let that happen. When they killed Anna, they’d made a major error of judgment.

“You really need to fix your security system,” Jake said. “When I’m done here, I’ll hook you up with a nice system.”

“But, of course, you’ll still be able to break it.”

Jake shrugged. “The master doesn’t teach the student every trick.”

Hank hung his hand out for Jake and the two of them shook. “Take care.”

“Always do. Say goodbye to Karen. And congrats on the new child.”

The station chief nodded and Jake left the way he’d come, slipping on his shoes before leaving through the back door. He made his way back to the hotel using a new route and methods to ensure he hadn’t been followed.

When he got to his room, he stepped in quietly, got undressed, and slid into bed. Alexandra lay quietly next to him, her breathing a steady flow of air. He didn’t expect Alexandra to wake, since he’d reluctantly slipped her a couple sleeping pills before they went to bed—enough to make her sleep a good eight hours. She needed the rest, he reasoned. Maybe he should have taken a few himself. He hadn’t been sleeping like normal, with his conscience out of whack having to defend himself daily from unknown killers. Even though he realized he was forced to kill those who came for him, he still felt guilty for having to do so. Again, his mind seemed to have a special compartment of rationalization for such things. He knew he had choices. He could simply hop a plane and fly to Montana, saddle a horse, and ride up into the high country to wet a few flies. Maybe even keep a couple and fry them in a pan on an open fire.

With these thoughts running through his mind, he didn’t need any sedative. He fell to sleep almost immediately.

29

The next morning Toni woke early, not able to sleep much, her mind on Jake and the case. She showered and watched some local news on the TV. The Berlin Polizei were still concerned about a significant increase in crime—especially murder—which wasn’t actually rare in the city, but nothing compared to city’s of comparable size in the U.S. It seemed to Toni that the Germans liked to compare themselves to the Americans when it came to crime, but didn’t like to admit problems of their own. Like high unemployment, and the pacifistic nature of the German government on foreign affairs.

When Toni picked Franz up at his room, his skin was an ashen tone, his eyes red, and his breathing labored. It took great strength not to show concern for his condition.

“Are you all right, Franz?” she asked.

“I’ll live,” he said. “At least for the day.” He coughed into a handkerchief and immediately folded that into his jacket. “Let’s go. I could use some coffee.”

God, she didn’t like the way he looked. But there was no way she could leave him out of this. Not now. He deserved to see this case through to the end.

They barely sat down in an isolated area with their coffee when Toni saw her contact come through the restaurant door. He saw her and stepped over to her table. It wasn’t the perfect place for a meeting, but she sure as hell didn’t want to be seen going into the U.S. Embassy.

“Toni.” Hank Roberts reached across and shook her hand.

She introduced Franz to Hank and they also shook before they all took seats.

Toni briefed the CIA station chief on what she knew, how Franz had been helping her, and how the Austrian Polizei officer would be talking with his counterpart in Berlin later in the day. When she was done, she sat back and observed her Agency friend, who seemed a bit reticent. They had worked together so many times, she could read the man better than her own husband.

“What’s the matter?” Toni asked Hank.

“I got a late night call from Jake,” Hank said.

“Jake is here?” She feigned shock, even though she guessed as much. After all, Jake had been one step ahead of her for the past couple of days.

Hank explained how Jake had gotten into his house and what they’d discussed.

“That sounds like Jake,” she said.

“I understand you two have a history as well,” Hank said, directing his gaze at Franz.

Franz held back a cough and said, “Yes, we’ve known each other for quite some time. Trouble seems to hang over him like a dark cloud.”

Toni laughed. “His problem is he cares too much. He can’t let things go.” Except for her, she thought with consternation.

“What do you have planned?” Hank asked.

She explained the meet later that night. How it should go down. Contingency plans. The works. What she couldn’t control, though, was how the local Polizei would respond.

“They’ve been working a multiple murder case,” Franz interjected.

“But they’ve been mostly collecting evidence at the scene,” the Agency station chief said. “As far as I know, they can’t find a link to any of them.”

“I’ll help them with that,” Franz said.

“After the fact,” Toni assured her Agency friend.

“Good.” Hank got up to leave. “It was nice to see you again, Toni. And nice to meet you, Franz.”

They shook hands all around once more, and the Berlin station chief left Toni and Franz to finish their coffee.

“He seems like a good man,” Franz said. “Can I get you some more coffee?”

She slid her empty glass to him. “Sure. Thank you, Franz.”

When Franz went away, she ran the conversation through her mind to make sure she knew how it would go down that evening. Jake was the only glitch. She wished she could talk with him before this went down.

Franz returned with the coffee and sat down across from Toni. “Everything all right?” he asked her.

“Yeah.”

“You’re thinking about Jake.”

“A little.”

Franz nodded his head. “You’re wondering why he hasn’t tried to contact you.”

“No. Jake has no idea I’m here. No clue I’m working this case.”

“Then you still have feelings for him,” Franz concluded.

“You think I’m that easy to read,” she said derisively. “I’m married.”

Franz sipped his coffee, smirked, and said, “You don’t have to convince me of that. The two of you were lovers for a long time.”

“Are you going to eat something?” she asked. “You’re starting to look like a cardboard-sign-holding homeless man.”

“I was born ugly. There’s no cure for mean.”

“Too harsh?”

Franz put minimal space between his thumb and forefinger.

“Sorry. I’ll take you to lunch after we talk with your Polizei friend.”

“Agreed.”

They got up and left.

●

Jake and Alexandra slept in late, her because of the sedatives and he because of the late-night reconnoiter to his old friend’s place. They ordered breakfast in their room and now she was taking a shower while Jake lay back on the bed watching the local news on the TV. The reporters talked about the men found dead throughout the city in the past few weeks, and Jake knew why those bodies had started stacking up. Some, like the two he’d shot the night before, had gotten caught up in the shadow game. The others, and this was only speculation on his part, had come to Berlin to collect on hits made in other parts of Europe. But the shooters weren’t collecting on the one million Euro bounty. Instead, they were catching bullets by other shooters. It was classic KGB assassination schemes. First, kill the assassin. Things hadn’t changed much. The SVR had the KGB play book.