Authors: Trevor Scott
Tags: #Thrillers, #Technological, #Espionage, #Fiction
He guessed that much or he wouldn’t have brought it up to her in the first place. Although they both knew that Jake had killed her uncle Gunter along the Rhine River in Bonn, neither of them had ever confirmed the kill to the other. Gunter Schecht had gone rogue after retiring from German Intelligence, getting wrapped up in a scheme that included former Hungarian officers. Jake had nearly been killed by Gunter and his men, before the two of them finally shot it out in Bonn. Jake knew he had no real choice. It was self defense. Part of Jake wondered if his current situation didn’t come from that incident. But Gunter Schecht was dead.
“Your uncle didn’t give me much of a choice,” Jake assured her.
“I know.” She hesitated. “He was a good man at one time. A good military officer and a good Service officer. But it still hurts me to know you shot him.”
It pained him as well. He had worked with her uncle a few times while Jake worked in Berlin. “Some things are better left alone.”
“You think someone associated with Uncle Gunter is after you? You think they put up the million Euros?”
“I don’t know. That’ll take some time to figure out. What did you tell your boss at the Service.”
She turned to him again. “What do you mean?”
“While I was in the shower you packed a bag and took it to your car. Which is why you had me put my bag in the back seat.”
Alexandra’s eyes checked the speedometer and then settled on the Autobahn again. “I took the week off,” she finally said. “I haven’t taken a vacation in more than a year.”
“What did you tell them?” he implored.
“I just said I was going to take some time off. Maybe go to Paris. Maybe go to Berlin. I wasn’t specific. It’s none of their business.”
“They must have suspected something wasn’t right with your request. Sent a crew to check on you.”
“You think those men in the Audi were BND?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“We don’t play games like the CIA and SVR.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Jake scolded. “But it could have been innocent concern for your safety.”
A tear streaked her right cheek, which she let stay there, both of her hands occupied with the driver’s wheel. Jake wiped the tear away.
“I would never do anything to hurt you, Jake.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that. Like I said, they could have been looking out for you. You said you hadn’t taken vacation in more than a year, so that’s out of the ordinary for you. It raised a flag.” He thought for a moment as another tear rolled down her face. “Why didn’t you ask me to bring you along?”
She sobbed. “I know what you’d say.”
He moved toward her and wiped her face again. He wasn’t sure why she was becoming so emotional. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
She cried now. Not just sobbing, but full tears and emotions pouring out of her. As she did so, she slowed the car to a reasonable pace. Jake looked in her glove box and found some tissues, handing a pile to her. Jesus, he wasn’t overly equipped to deal with a crying woman. Not when he couldn’t hold her to sooth away the tears.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Finally, she said, “I’ve been under investigation.”
“For what?”
“For two months.”
“Why?”
Recovered somewhat, she picked up speed again. “Since you were shot in Austria. My boss knew I knew you and Anna. I went to the funeral for more than just Anna. They had me check into the situation to see if it had anything to do with German state security. My conclusions were less than certain, but my superiors told me to end my investigation.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t. I continued to look. I thought I’d covered my tracks. And then when I heard a man had died trying to set a bomb on your car, I went to Innsbruck on my time off. I ran into a brick wall with that new Kriminal Hauptkommisar, Hermann Jung.”
“We’ve met. He came by the hospital a couple times.”
“I know.”
Jake scrutinized that revelation.
She continued, “Then I heard about the men at your apartment. How one had died and the other got away. I was concerned, so I inquired further. I’m guessing our internal division found out I’d been looking into the incidents. Your call from the train station wasn’t totally unexpected. That’s why I called you my cousin. But I called my real cousin Johann this morning. He said the Polizei came to his door last evening and asked to see his identification. Something about terrorism. He showed them his passport and driver’s license and they left. They were checking up on me. I just know it.”
Jesus. “This is my fault, Alexandra. Just drop me off at the next train station. Get out of my life. Everything goes to hell around me.”
“Nonsense. What happened to Anna wasn’t your fault.”
If only it was just Anna. What about all the others who had died at his hand or while working with him? He couldn’t even count all of those. What kind of man doesn’t remember how many people he’s killed? What had he become?
“I’m in this with you,” Alexandra said defiantly.
Just try to tell a German woman she can’t do something. Good luck with that, Jake. “All right. But will you have any access at all to your Service?”
She smiled now. “Yes, sir. Directly and indirectly. I have contacts all over.”
“Outstanding.”
“Where to next?” she asked, her hands gripping the wheel with newfound strength.
“Luxembourg.”
“Why there?”
“I need to make a withdrawal. In person.”
They drove on with great speed. At that pace, they’d be to the Duchy by afternoon, Jake guessed. He felt both good and bad about Alexandra joining him. Sure he enjoyed her company. But he didn’t want her getting caught in the crossfire when more assassins came for him. And Jake knew they’d keep coming. He felt it in his bones.
13
German Federal Intelligence Service (BND)
Pullach, Germany
Toni and Franz drove north through Garmish early that morning, not even stopping, and continued toward Munich. The BND and the Agency cooperated on many levels, and Toni had worked with them dozens of times over the years. Although many of her contacts were on assignments overseas, or had moved on to the new facility in Berlin, she still had access to BND assets after a quick phone call to her boss, CIA Director Kurt Jenkins, on the drive.
Their greeting at the front door security wasn’t overly pleasant. Toni figured part of that had to do with it being Sunday. A young man in his mid-twenties escorted the two of them into a conference room deep within the newer building on the BND complex. There they were offered a cup of coffee and made to wait. She guessed they were being watched and listened to, but saw no camera. She informed Franz to let her do all the talking. The Germans only allowed Franz into the complex on Toni’s insistence.
The thick wood door opened and a man in his forties stepped in, followed by their younger escort.
“Martin Mayer,” the man said, extending his hand to each of them. He pronounced his first name ‘Marteen.’ He reminded Toni of Tom Selleck, only a foot shorter and lacking his musculature. He did have the thick black mustache, though.
They shook all around and then the young man stood in the corner while Herr Mayer sat at the head of the table, picking up a remote control.
“How may I help you?” Mayer asked, his eyes directed more toward Franz than Toni.
Toni quickly explained in English how they were seeking one of their assets, Jake Adams, and hoped for German cooperation.
Mayer smiled continuously as Toni talked. “I met Jake a few years back,” Mayer said. “He was speaking on counter terrorism at Oberammergau. An interesting man. But I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”
This guy was fishing, Toni guessed. “Right. He was with the CIA and spent many years in Germany. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” She figured he already knew this about Jake.
“Do you know that Interpol has a Red Notice out on him?” Mayer asked derisively.
“Yes, we’re working on getting that lifted. They had no right to issue that notice.”
Mayer released air through his nose. “He killed a man in Austria. He beat a German Polizei officer in Garmish, a family man who was just doing his job.”
Franz interjected. “He killed that Serb in self defense.” He covered his mouth and coughed into his clenched fist. “They were hit men sent to kill Jake.”
“And our Polizei officer?”
Toni placed her hand on Franz’s arm and said, “The Red Notice is for the death of the Serb in Austria. You have no evidence that Jake did anything to the German Polizei officer. Coffee in the crotch makes for an unreliable witness.”
The BND officer stared at Toni trying to intimidate her, but he obviously didn’t know her at all, she thought. This puke couldn’t intimidate a Southern debutante. She didn’t want to tip her hand, but she also wanted to leave with some information and the hope of cooperation from German Intel. To do so she’d have to play the diplomat, much like she was forced to do while the station chief in Vienna.
“All right,” she said. “I need your help. Mr. Adams is an important Agency asset.”
“With a million Euro price on his head,” Mayer interrupted.
“So you know,” Franz said, and saw Toni’s staunch gaze upon him, shutting him down.
“Of course we know, Herr Martini,” Mayer sneered in German. “We also know you are dying from cancer and are on medical leave. So. . .is your presence here on official Austrian State Polizei business, or is this personal for you?”
Franz started to rise in his chair but Toni settled him back down with a hand against his chest. Under his breath, Franz called the German a whore-screwing pig in Italian. Toni smiled at that. Her father had used that phrase many times while watching football on the television.
“Okay,” Toni started. “Herr Martini is working for me as a liaison.” She switched to German and said, “Now, can we cut through the bullshit and get to the business at hand? I know you’ve gotten a call from the director of our CIA, because he assured me you would cooperate fully with our investigation. Do you understand my German?”
The BND officer shifted in his chair and seemed to have broken out in a slight sprinkling of sweat. “Yes,” he said reluctantly. He was back with English.
“Well, come on,” she said. “We’re burning daylight.”
Mayer glanced at his young associate, who hit the lights. They were in total darkness for a split second until an LCD panel that filled much of the far wall came on, with photographs of a man on a train platform. The man’s head was down, but Toni still recognized Jake. Others would’ve had a tough time, though. The next couple of slides were equally obscured. Jake knew he was being photographed.
“Who is that?” Toni asked.
“Jake Adams.”
“How can you be sure?”
Mayer hit pause and clicked his remote. Sound above was of a phone conversation between a man and a woman. It was cryptic, the man asking for a ride, and the woman calling the man her cousin.
“The voice matches Jake Adams from his lectures,” Mayer explained.
“And the woman?” Toni already knew the answer.
Hesitating, Mayer finally said. “An asset of ours.”
“Where was this?” she asked.
“That’s the main Pullach Bahnhof. Yesterday.”
“The woman,” Toni repeated with more force.
Without answering, Mayer clicked another button and the photo of Jake switched to a video clip of Jake coming out of an apartment, a backpack over his shoulder, following a pretty woman. He threw the pack in the back seat of a black BMW and the two of them drove off. The camera followed them down the street and then the BMW sped up and evaded. Good driving, Toni thought.
The video stopped and the lights came on.
“When was that?” Toni asked.
“Just hours ago. And I’m sure you recognize the woman. She worked with you a few years ago in Vienna when you were the station chief there.”
“I thought she looked familiar,” Toni said, no shock in her voice. “But her hair was a different color. So, why do you have one of your own under surveillance?”
That caught the BND officer for a moment. “We thought she might be in some kind of trouble.”
Okay, that was a total line of crap, Toni thought. But then she wouldn’t have told him about an internal investigation at the Agency either. No need to push the issue.
“Where are they now?” she asked him.
“We don’t know.”
“No GPS tracking? Maybe an RFID embedded under her skin somewhere, being picked up by Autobahn scanners like some Big Brother grocery store check-out line?”
Mayer’s eyes raised to the ceiling, as if he was considering the possibility. “Afraid not,” he finally muttered.
She wasn’t going to get anything from these folks. Toni thanked them for all their help, such as it was, and the young officer escorted she and Franz out the way they had come.
They’d driven from Innsbruck in Toni’s rental car, so she got behind the wheel and sat while Franz finished smoking a long-awaited cigarette outside. Although Mayer thought he’d given her nothing at all, that wasn’t entirely true. She could learn as much by what they didn’t say as by what they did reveal. They didn’t have to let her see their officer, Alexandra. They could have doctored the digital file to crop her out, or only showed that portion with Jake. Yet, for some reason they’d allowed her to not only see her with Jake, but to imply that she’d done something wrong. They also hadn’t blocked the license plate of Alexandra’s car, which she’d placed in her memory. She made a quick call on her cell and hung up.
Franz smiled at her and stamped out his cigarette before getting into the passenger seat.
“You can smoke in here,” Toni assured him. “Living in Europe so long, I’m used to it.”
He put on his seat belt. “I thought you were assigned to Langley now.”
“I am. But I’m on the road more than not. Special assignments.”
Glancing at her left hand, he said, “I thought you were married.”
Funny, she thought. He had noticed no ring since the first five minutes the night before and now finally mentioned it. “I am. But I can usually get more information from men if they think I’m available to screw their brains out.”