Drawpoint (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 4)

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Drawpoint (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 4) Page 9

by L. T. Ryan


  She wished Blake were there. She should have told him. He would have known what to do next.

  Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her toothbrush, a t-shirt, and a clean pair of underwear. She turned on the water in the shower and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

  “Haeli!” Wan banged on the door.

  “Not gonna happen,” Haeli said.

  “No. You have to see this. Open the door, Haeli.”

  Haeli sighed, covered her bare breasts with her forearm, then unlocked the door and threw it open. “What?”

  In his left hand, Wan held an envelope. In his right, a photograph. He held the photograph toward Haeli. “It was stuck to the fridge.”

  The image of Adam Goldmann’s head stared back at her. The same picture she had received in Virginia.

  “We’ve gotta go. Now.”

  15

  Two Years Ago. The three soldiers fanned out and inched closer, keeping their shaky weapons on their targets. One of them spoke.

  “You don’t move.”

  The team froze.

  Through the door appeared another man. He had lighter, coffee-colored skin and wore a short-sleeved button-down shirt which featured large, wet stains around the armpits.

  “Molefi?” Haeli asked.

  “You ask as if you don’t know.” Molefi stepped off the landing into the sand. “There is no need for games. Mister Goldmann already told me who you are. You have made a big, big mistake coming here.”

  Haeli glanced at Wan. The telepathic message was clear. Goldmann had betrayed them. The plan had changed.

  “Take their guns,” Molefi said.

  Two of the soldiers looked to the smoking man, who reluctantly slung his sub-machine gun to his side and approached Haeli.

  Haeli glanced at the sky. Somewhere beyond the few wispy clouds was a high-altitude drone, its telescopic lenses capturing the unfolding scene below. But none of that would do them any good at the moment. If they were going to stay alive, they would need to act first. Goldmann was a lost cause. Now, survival was all that mattered.

  With hands still raised in the air, Haeli moved back to the front edge of the SUV and turned around, offering her back to the approaching man.

  She felt the tugging on her thigh as he tried to free the pistol from the drop holster.

  “It’s locked in.” She pivoted a quarter turn, blading herself to the man and presenting him with her right hip. Without moving her arms, she pointed her finger downward. “You have to press the release.”

  Her body position was intentional. Shielded by the fumbling soldier, the other two would not have a clean shot—at least, not without the risk of killing their own man. It was the best opportunity she was going to get, and she intended to capitalize on it.

  As he leaned in again, pulling the pistol with his right hand while using his left to manipulate the release, Haeli snatched the handle of the sub-machine, still slung over his shoulder. She flipped it upside down and pulled the trigger with her pinky finger.

  With her face buried in the soldier’s chest, Haeli swung the weapon from side to side, blindly spraying a barrage of bullets toward Molefi and his other two men.

  Wan, Ornal, and Bender dove behind the armored SUV as the soldiers managed to return fire.

  The instant Haeli felt the magazine run dry, she snapped back and kicked the smoker in the abdomen. The force propelled her backward, sending her careening through the air, toward the front driver’s side corner of the vehicle.

  Before her shoulder blades contacted the ground, she had already pressed the thumb release and rocked her pistol free from the holster. She fired two shots, striking the soldier in the chest.

  As Haeli rolled behind the front tire, the angry zip of the sub-machine guns rang out again. Bullets clanked along the broad side of the SUV.

  Boom. Bender’s forty-five barked two feet from Haeli’s head. It left behind a dull ringing in Haeli’s left ear and a pile of bloody, green camouflage beside the now empty guard booth.

  “Got him,” Bender said.

  Haeli dropped to a prone position and shimmied a few inches from the tire, until she had a clear view under the vehicle. From her vantage point, she could see one of the two remaining soldiers trying to hoist Molefi’s limp body to its feet. His gun dangled freely as he bent over.

  Molefi’s sweat-stained button-down was saturated with blood. The soldier didn’t seem to know it yet, but Molefi was dead.

  After a brief silence, the growl of a sub-machine gun resumed, and more bullets battered the side of the SUV and ricocheted off the acrylic windows.

  Haeli had no visual on the soldier who was shooting, but she had a shot at the bottom half of the one who was trying to render aid to his dead boss.

  Haeli lined up the sights of her Glock with the soldier’s left knee and squeezed off a round. His knee exploded and his leg buckled forward. As his body crashed to the sand and his head came into view, she squeezed once more.

  “One left.” She slid out from under the SUV. “Who’s got a visual on him?”

  “He ducked inside,” Wan said. “Forget him. Get in.”

  The two driver’s side doors were wide open. Ornal had already climbed into the front passenger seat. Bender was hoisting himself into the back.

  Haeli wanted nothing more than to finish off the last guy. And then Goldmann, for good measure. But she knew Wan was right. At some point, there would be more of them. A lot more. They needed to get out fast. Out of Boitshwarelo. Out of Botswana.

  Wan waited for Haeli to get in before jumping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Haeli pulled her door closed as Wan gunned the accelerator. The SUV fishtailed until its nose lined up with the closed chain link gate. They sped straight toward it.

  “Hold on,” Wan said as they crashed through. The frame rocked and pieces of metal scrapped along the windshield and roof.

  Wan jammed the brakes and threw it in reverse.

  “What are you doing?” Ornal yelled.

  Clearing the busted gate, Wan slammed the brakes again. “Take the tires.”

  Just outside the rear passenger window was a Land Rover, parked behind the guard booth. Haeli knew what Wan was getting at. There was at least one left, if not more. The last thing they needed was someone giving chase.

  Bender rolled down his window halfway, pulled his forty-five, and fired twice. The two front tires blew out and the front end drooped.

  Another flurry of bullets clacked against the rear window of the SUV. Haeli turned to see the third soldier leaning out of the doorway, emptying another magazine in their direction.

  Wan mashed the accelerator. The tires chirped as they hit the paved road and gained traction. The speedometer rose quickly and settled at a hundred and seventy-seven kilometers per hour.

  Haeli knelt on the back seat, facing the rear. For nearly fourteen minutes she watched, but there was no one.

  Not behind them.

  “Heads up,” Wan said.

  “This isn’t good,” Ornal shifted in his seat.

  Ahead, where the road ended and the village began, the old gray pickup truck sat sideways across the road. A line of eight men sprawled out to either side. Even from some distance, Haeli could see the men were armed.

  Wan let off the accelerator. “Damn. You were right. We should have taken out that last guy.”

  “No,” Bender said. “These guys were already set up. They were waiting for us to get back. They must be trying to roll us. It’s the diamonds they’re after.”

  “Doesn’t make me feel any better,” Ornal said.

  Their speed bled off but Wan kept the vehicle rolling toward the roadblock.

  “Wait. Is that what I think it is?” Haeli extended her arm between Wan and Ornal and pointed.

  One of the men was climbing into the bed of the truck. There, mounted to a tripod, was a large gun. Now close enough to even make out the men’s facial features, Haeli was pretty sure they all knew exactly what the
y were looking at.

  “No way,” Wan said. “A Browning?”

  The World War II Era Browning M2 heavy machine gun posed a specific problem and they all knew it. Its fifty caliber rounds were likely to slice right through the SUV’s armor.

  Wan pulled his seatbelt and clipped it in. “Put ‘em on. And hang on tight.”

  The SUV lurched as the motor surged and the speedometer jumped, once again.

  Haeli grabbed for her seatbelt. The momentum pushed her back into her seat.

  Wan lined up with the rear end of the pickup and pinned the pedal to the floor.

  The SUV closed the gap in a matter of seconds.

  As Haeli clipped her seatbelt, she saw the man in the bed swing the barrel of the big Browning toward them. She closed her eyes and braced for impact.

  16

  Blake grasped the two one-hundred-pound dumbbells and yanked them free of the rack. He walked them to the bench and sat, dropping the weight to the floor by his feet.

  His pocket buzzed. He peeked at the screen.

  Harrison.

  Abandoning his station, Blake moved to the mats in the corner of the gym, laid out as part of a warm-up area. He sat on a large, inflated rubber ball and answered the call.

  “Harrison. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “What? A guy can’t check in now and then?”

  “I don’t know, can he?” Blake continued the question game.

  “Okay. Okay. I have a favor to ask. A question really.”

  “Shoot.”

  “My office is working a fraud case. Sort of high profile. A question came up and I thought you might be the guy to ask.”

  “You know I’ll help if I can. What is it?”

  “Well, I was wondering, is there any way to find out if a particular suspect had opened any bank accounts? Domestic or off-shore.”

  “Not legally,” Blake said.

  Harrison lowered his voice. “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Ah. Of course. Tell ya what, you send me the guy’s information and I’ll look into it.”

  “You’re the best. You know I hate to ask. How’ve ya been?”

  “I’m hangin’ in there.”

  “I checked in on Christa. Lucy seems to be doing well.”

  “Yeah, she’s a resilient girl.”

  “Spoke with Chief Fuller, too. More stuff coming out about Robert Foster. Crazy story. This job gets weirder every day. Now that you’ve got a taste of it, you oughta sign up for real.”

  Blake chuckled. “I’m a little old for joining the FBI. Plus, I never liked you guys anyway. All those rules.”

  “Can’t argue with that. But you did a hell of a good job. Talking to Christa’s neighbors, you’re a local legend around there now.”

  “You know I didn’t do anything. My whole contribution was having a hard skull and making good bait. Not exactly superhero status.”

  “Na. It’s about putting the pieces together. Ruling out the dead ends. Getting everyone pointed in the right direction. You can’t single handedly save the world every time.”

  “I’m not looking to save the world, period. Christa and Gwyn had it right. It’s time to slow it down and focus on what’s important. Ya know I contacted a realtor about selling my place?”

  “Really?”

  “Well, I‘ve been checking out my options, anyway. There’s nothing holding me here anymore. Not really. I was thinking of maybe renting a place up in Newport. Enjoying some of that New England salt air.”

  “Why don’t you pay a visit during the winter before you make that decision. Winter’s a whole different animal. But if you’re set on it, I can keep my eyes open. Ask around.”

  “Thanks, Harrison. Go ahead and send me that info. I’ll take a look when I get home.”

  “Will do. You take care of yourself.”

  “You too.”

  Blake hung up.

  Harrison turned out to be a solid guy. Blake had grown to trust him. To consider him a friend. He wondered how Harrison would feel about joining him and the others, should he ever get the business off the ground. He and Hopkins both. Given the unique service they could all provide as a group, they’d fetch a premium. And once they got up and running, there would be plenty of money to go around. More than enough to make it worth their while.

  Blake had called his contact, Whitby, hoping to call in a favor. Given what happened in the Himalayas, he figured Whitby owed him one. And he didn’t ask for much. Just enough of an investment to get them started and to entice Fezz, Khat, and Griff away from their pensions. Unfortunately, Whitby declined. As it turned out, saving someone’s life didn’t go as far as it used to.

  Struck by the realization that he was still balancing on an exercise ball, daydreaming about something that wasn’t likely to ever happen, he bounced himself into a standing position, put his phone back in his pocket, and set off to resume his next four sets of personal punishment.

  17

  Two Years Ago. “How’s the wrist?” Levi asked.

  Haeli banged the plaster cast on the table. “I could do some damage with this thing.”

  “I bet you could. How about you, Chet? All of you. How are you feeling?”

  Chet nodded.

  “Pretty damn good, now that we’re back,” Bender said.

  Wan raised his matching wrist cast. “I second that.”

  Haeli concurred. They had all suffered injuries. But concussions and broken bones notwithstanding, they had all come through surprisingly well. Due in large part to Michael’s quick thinking and determination.

  With a broken nose and orbital, and a fractured wrist, Wan continued driving as fast as the crumpled SUV would take them. He managed to get them far enough south, before the SUV ran out of gas, to trek the remaining distance to South Africa on foot.

  Granted, it had taken several days, and they were forced to ration a twelve-ounce bottle of water between them. But it was better than any of the alternatives.

  Truth be told, if they had not been intercepted by the extraction team when they were, they would have died. At least Mossad had gotten something right.

  “Well, I appreciate you all coming,” Levi said. “There’s ample video so I don’t expect the debrief to take long.”

  The phone at the end of the table beeped. Levi walked over and picked it up. “That’s fine. Send him in.”

  A moment later, Ari walked into the conference room and without a word, sat across from Haeli and her team. Sans sidekick, Ari wore a blue blazer, with the top two buttons of his shirt open. He adjusted his cuffs and laid his forearms on the table. “Tell me, why in God’s name did you let Goldmann get away?”

  The team shared confused looks. If Haeli didn’t know any better, she’d say Mossad was less appreciative than they ought to be.

  “Is that a trick question?” Bender looked around the room as if waiting for someone to fill him in on the joke.

  “You have botched this thing beyond repair,” Ari said. “Not only did you fail to obtain any evidence, you killed a conspirator and potentially the main witness. Not only did you lose our asset, you let him get away with over a hundred and sixty million shekels worth of diamonds. You accomplished nothing. Less than nothing.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Bender said. “You’re the one who trusted Goldmann and forced us into this situation. We were nearly killed for your inability to manage him. He sold us out. But then again, you know as well as we do he never should have been there in the first place. He was a loose cannon and you knew it.”

  The overhead lights shone off Ari’s forehead. His scarlet hue made him look like he was about to burst into flames.

  “Everyone take a breath,” Levi said. “You wanted to debrief. Let’s debrief. Start with what happened in the room? Between Molefi and Goldmann?”

  Ari sat back in his chair and exhaled. “We don’t know. We lost the feed before Molefi arrived. The next thing we knew, Molefi’s outside and this woman is mowing him down.”
r />   “We were made,” Haeli said. “Goldmann ratted us out. Molefi told us so. Right before he told his soldiers to disarm us. They were working together. Against you. We were as good as dead if we hadn’t taken action.”

  “And by you killing Molefi, Goldmann was able to waltz out of there. Who’s working for who?”

  “That’s enough,” Levi said. “I get you're upset about your operation. But I will not stand by while you accuse my people of somehow being complicit in Goldmann’s escape. Haeli did what she had to do to save her life and the lives of her team. She has more loyalty in her little finger than your whole organization put together.”

  Ari stood up. “It’s not wise to cross us, Farr. This whole farce of a business you’ve got going on, it’s because we allow it.”

  “Let me tell you something.” Levi crossed the room until he stood face to face with the irate Mossad officer. “I know a lot of people much higher up the food chain than you. If you want to play that game, let’s see who can cause more damage to who. Your ass is on the line for this, there’s no way around that, but if you so much as lift a finger to try to take down my agents with you, I will feed you to the beast myself. If you like your job, I’d suggest you leave now.”

  Ari didn’t respond. He turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “Thank you,” Haeli said.

  Levi walked to the door. “No problem. I mean it, you did a hell of a job out there. Now go get some rest. There will be no more meetings about this.” Levi exited the room.

  “You heard the man,” Ornal said. “Let’s go get some rest.”

  “If by rest, you mean ‘the bar,’ I’m in.” Bender said.

  The group stood up and meandered out the double doors to the second-floor hallway, overlooking the lobby.

  “You comin’?” Ornal asked.

  “You two go ahead,” Wan said. “We’ll catch up.”

  “You don’t know where we’re goin’”

  “Funny,” Wan said. “We’ll meet you there.”

 

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