by Ethan Jones
“We can’t please everyone.” Justin shook his head.
“Not today.” Flavio sighed. “And not tomorrow either.”
He sat back on his chair and swiveled around for a moment. He flipped another page, then said, “Yes, the Chinese. This is where things get interesting. As expected, they denied knowing Ying was working with Lim, despite the well-known fact they were lovers.”
Carrie frowned. “A fact they conveniently forgot to share with us.”
“Yes, I brought that to the attention of my MSS counterpart. He was extremely apologetic, promising an internal inquiry and vowing that they will make sure Suen and anyone else involved in this operation pay dearly for their mistakes.”
Justin nodded. “We’ll never know what happened, but also we’ll never hear from Suen again.”
“Or from Ying’s accomplice. He left for Beijing yesterday.”
“What? How?” Justin asked.
“His diplomatic status. He claimed Ying forced him to help her at gunpoint. But I’m sure the Chinese will take care of him.”
“I still would have liked to have known for certain this was solely a Chinese job.”
“It is. There’s nothing to prove a North Korean connection, and all the players are Chinese. They can deny it as much as they want, but we all know what happened.”
There was a pause in the conversation, so Karolin coughed, then said in a low voice, “What are the Russians saying about the Chinese denying any responsibility?”
“On the surface, they’re accepting the MSS’s apology. We can rest assured that this isn’t the end. The Russians do not forget and, definitely, do not forgive.”
“How’s Mary?” Justin asked.
“She’s alright. Considering the shock she went through, her recovery is slow, but it’s going well. She’s back with Thames, who most likely will not face desertion charges. The SAS has to complete the investigation, of course, but it’s headed in that direction.”
Justin nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Now, that’s pretty much all about this operation, but for one last thing.” Flavio closed the folder and put it on top of the first one he had set aside to his left. “Karolin’s contribution. Although it was the first time you were involved in such an intense intel-gathering op, you did a very good job.”
“Thank you, sir,” Karolin said with a nod.
“Your work was excellent, and without that intel, we might have missed the chance to stop the assassination. Many people are still alive today because of you.”
Karolin’s face began to blush, and she nodded slowly.
“You’re ready for bigger assignments. More field ops, and this time a step up.” Flavio reached for the third folder. “An elimination.”
Karolin’s eyes sparkled. “I’m ready, sir,” she said in a voice full of excitement.
Justin frowned and leaned forward. “Sir, eh ... with all due respect—”
Flavio interrupted him with a hand wave, then said, “Carrie, Karolin, can you step outside?”
He held Justin’s wary eyes until Karolin closed the door, then said, “Justin, I know what you’re going to say: Is she ready?”
Justin nodded. “Yes, perhaps this decision is premature.”
“I understand how you feel about Karolin, and that you want to keep her away from danger. But this is her life now. She’s not the same as when she joined us. She has grown, has learned.”
“Yes, but is she ready?”
“She’s close, and she will be working with two of the best agents I know, you and Carrie.”
Justin sighed. “I’m not sure, sir—”
“Were you ready when you started your first op?”
He peered into Flavio’s inquisitive eyes. “Eh ... I’m not sure that’s relevant to this matter.”
“Oh, but it is. No one is really ready when they start. They will make mistakes and learn from them. That’s why I’m pairing Karolin with you and Carrie for the next mission. Whatever Karolin may be lacking, you and Carrie will supply.” Flavio’s voice had turned firm, leaving no room for Justin’s objections.
He drew in a deep breath and offered an unconvinced nod. His mind went to his first operation in Marseille, France. Justin had arranged to meet an asset at an abandoned warehouse in Marseille, but that operation had gone completely sideways. The mess was so great that Justin thought he would be thrown out of the service before he had even started. But he was given a second chance to do better the next time around. “Yes, sir. We will do that,” he said in a low voice.
“That’s good to hear. Now, have them come back.” Flavio gestured toward the door.
When Carrie and Karolin had returned to their seats, Flavio slid the folder across the desk toward Justin. “The three of you will work together on your next mission. As I said earlier, it’s an elimination, a sanctioned kill.”
“Who is it?” Karolin asked, barely containing the thrill in her voice.
“It’s all in the file. A man planning to run in the next presidential elections in Libya. He used to run the brutal Libyan intelligence service during the times of Gaddafi. If he takes power in Libya, this strongman will return the country to the times of Gaddafi’s bloody regime and become a danger not only to the region, but to the entire world. We can’t afford for that to happen again.”
Justin nodded and glimpsed through the file.
Flavio continued, “Use all means necessary to reach the objective. You’ll be working with the CIA and local contacts. Make plans to head out tomorrow morning.”
Justin looked at Carrie. “I’m ready,” she said with a smile.
Karolin said, “Let’s get it done.”
Justin returned his eyes to Flavio, “We’ll take care of this, sir.”
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Target Acquired -
The Justin Hall Spy Thriller Series - Book 14
The Story:
How far would you go to save the one you love?
Spymaster Justin Hall is on a sanctioned assassination operation in Tunisia when his partner is captured by terrorists. With only a few hours to get her back alive, Justin frantically begins working with a CIA operative and attempts to activate a precarious old contact. Distraught and determined, Justin will go to any lengths to save her. Will he make it in time to save the one he loves?
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Start the adrenaline rush now...
Chapter One
Seaside resort town of Sousse
Tunisia
Justin Hall could hardly believe the voice that came into his earpiece, giving him the bad news. He glanced through his binoculars at the target house and said into his throat mic, “Repeat your last.”
“The car dropped off a woman and two children, a boy and a girl. The woman went in; the children are playing in the yard. Age four, five at the most.”
Justin frowned and bit his lip. The development complicated their already difficult mission. The Canadian Intelligence Service operative was studying the back entrance to the target house, waiting for the opportune moment for the assault. His partner was covering the main entrance. According to the intelligence the team had received, there were supposed to be four to six men, all known jihadist
fighters. Those odds were not in the team’s favor, but the arrival of the woman and children had made matters worse.
“Justin, come in,” the voice said.
“Yes, is the car gone?”
“It left, yes.”
“Was the woman armed?”
A brief pause. “No, not that I could see. She was dressed in the loose local garb, so anything is possible.”
Justin nodded and glanced at his watch. It was almost ten fifty. Faint lights lit the narrow, crooked back alley. The entrance led directly inside the house. The asset who had informed them about the terrorists’ safehouse had drawn its plans, and Justin had committed them to memory. There was a narrow hall with guest rooms on each side. Then, beyond the kitchen, there was a third, larger room the jihadists used as their headquarters. It was very likely that most of them would be in that room.
Justin drew in a deep breath and said, “Marco, we go on with the plan. Be extra careful.”
“Of course, Justin. Any movement on your side?”
“Negative. All quiet.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
“May God bless us.”
“Yes, we will need that. Over and out.”
Justin tightened his fingers around the Russian-made GSh-18 9mm pistol and slung the AK-105 rifle over his shoulder. Both weapons were equipped with sound suppressors. He dashed toward the back entrance and unlocked the metal door in a swift move, as the asset had procured them a copy of the key. Justin pushed the door as slowly and gently as he could, but its hinges still made a low screech. He hoped no one inside the house had heard the noise.
He was wrong.
“Hafeez, is that you?” someone shouted in Arabic.
Justin flattened himself against the wall of the dimly lit hall and pointed the pistol to his right, in the direction of the voice. Somehow, he felt the voice was closer than it really was. It was the adrenaline rush through his body that heightened Justin’s senses. He could now be laser-focused. His heart pumped harder in his chest; his fingers felt natural around the pistol, making it an extension of his hands.
A man appeared at the other end of the hall.
It took Justin a split second to determine the man was not the main target of the team’s operation. So he pulled the trigger, planting a bullet in the man’s chest.
The gunshot made a small crackling sound, like someone opening a can of pop.
But the thud of the man’s body collapsing on the floor was louder.
The element of surprise was gone.
Loud curses and scrambling noises came from the headquarters room.
Justin dashed forward.
He reached the first door to the left and kicked it open while remaining out of the line of fire of anyone who could be inside.
No one returned fire from that room or from the hall.
As he came near the next room, the door was thrown open and a gunman rushed out. Before the gunman could turn his AK rifle toward Justin, the agent fired a couple of rounds. The first one struck the man in the right arm, causing him to drop the rifle. The second bullet found the man’s lower abdomen. He dropped back against one of the walls, then crumpled onto the cement floor.
“Two men down,” Justin whispered into his mic.
A loud, long barrage came from the kitchen.
Justin fell to one knee, looking for the shooter.
There was no one in the hall, but bullets ricocheted from the wall a few feet away from him. Whoever was firing was doing so blindly.
Justin took a couple of steps, staying away from the bullets kicking up dust around his feet. “Marco, come in.”
“Just getting in—”
Gunfire cut off his words.
“Marco, Marco?”
“Taking fire, but I’m all right. Inside the house now.”
“And the kids?”
“The girl came in. Watch out for her.”
Justin frowned. “Copy that.”
He remained in place and peered down the hall for the girl. He did not see her right away nor did he see Marco.
The gunfire ceased, and it was silent for a brief moment.
Then came a tiny sobbing and small footsteps thumping along the hall. A little girl ran toward the headquarters room. “Mommy, Mommy, I’m scared...”
Justin shouted. “No, go back, back...”
The girl did not look at him or pay attention to his words. She scurried toward the room. Just as she came to the door, a man stepped outside and scooped her up in his arms. Then he walked out into the hall and toward Justin.
His pistol was trained at the man’s head, but the little girl covered most of his body and a part of his face. She was shaking and squirming, and Justin did not have a clear shot.
The man held the girl with his left arm against his chest and pointed the pistol in his right hand at Justin. “Drop your gun. Now!”
Justin did not even flinch. He kept his pistol leveled with the gunman’s head. “Put her down, gently,” Justin said in a warm voice in Arabic.
The man cocked his head. “You don’t hear me? Drop your gun, or I’m going to kill her.” The gunman pressed the muzzle of his pistol against the girl’s temple.
Justin locked eyes with the gunman. “You don’t want to do that—”
“Now, or she dies,” the gunman shouted.
Marco’s voice came into Justin’s earpiece. “I have him, Justin.”
Justin began to lower his pistol and took a couple of steps closer to the gunman. “All right, all right. You got it. But don’t hurt her.”
“Stay back, back.” The gunman began to turn his gun on Justin.
“Now,” Marco whispered.
Justin darted forward as Marco’s gunshot echoed through the hall.
The bullet pierced the back of the gunman’s head. It came out through the forehead, spraying brain matter and blood. His body began to fall to the floor, along with the girl screaming at the top of her lungs.
Justin dove as far as he could. He grabbed the girl just as her head was going to hit the floor. He wrapped his arms around her softly and rolled away from the dead gunman.
Some of his blood had splattered the left side of her face, and she was terrified, but otherwise unharmed. “You’re going to be okay.” Justin smiled at her and spoke in a warm, low voice. “I’m going to take you to your—”
“No, Justin,” Marco said, standing at the end of the hall. Then he whispered into his mic, “Her mother is gone, man.”
“What?” Justin’s eyes met his.
“Yes. She fired at me from the kitchen...”
Justin cursed under his breath. “Is the kitchen clear?”
“Entering now.” He slipped inside.
Justin held the girl close to his chest. She was still sobbing and shivering, but her hands were around Justin’s neck. His right hand was still holding the pistol. He shifted his body slightly and turned the pistol toward the headquarters room, in case someone else burst out.
No one did.
“Marco, come in,” Justin said after a long moment.
“Yes, we got him. We got Khazri, but he’s wounded.”
Justin heaved a sigh of relief. “Can he walk?”
“I’ll make him.”
“All right. Let’s get out.”
“And the girl?”
Justin stroked her hair and felt her warm breath on his face. It seemed she was sobbing a little less, or perhaps Justin wanted that to be the case. “She ... she’s coming with us.”
“Bad idea, Justin.”
“After what happened, we can’t leave her here with—”
“And we also can’t take her. What are we going to do with her?”
“I ... I don’t know.” His voice turned firm and louder than necessary.
The girl glanced at Justin with her clear blue eyes. They were the same color as Karolin’s, Justin’s girlfriend and partner in the initial operation that had brought them to Tunisia. Shortly after their arrival, Karolin had been t
aken. It had been over forty-eight hours, and there had been no news from her. No ransom call, nothing, just dead silence.
Justin shook his head. “I’m not leaving her behind.”
Marco cursed out loud. “Fine, but let’s go. The gunshots will bring the hyenas around, if they’re not here already.”
Justin slowly lifted himself and the girl off the floor. “We’re going for a short trip now.”
“Is my brother coming?”
Justin shook his head.
“And Mommy?”
He bit his lip. “No. She’s not.” He turned and raced toward the door.
“I’m going to fall.” She grabbed a handful of Justin’s hair.
“I won’t let you.”
They came to the end of the hall. He turned slightly and glanced at Marco, who was covering their retreat.
Marco gave him a thumbs-up. “We’re good, Justin.”
“Oh, I heard a tiny voice...” The girl noticed Justin’s black earpiece, then reached for it and pulled the wire. “Who is that?”
“No, no, don’t...” His voice trailed off as the earpiece fell off his ear.
Justin shrugged and stopped as they came to the metal door. He unlocked it, pushed it open a crack with the tip of his boot, and listened for a moment. Hearing no strange noises but a dog howling in the distance, he stole a quick peek.
The back alley was empty.
“Good to go,” Justin said.
He shouldered the door and stepped outside, hurrying toward their car parked around the corner.
“Where are we going?” the girl asked.
“For a little trip. You like trips?”
The girl shook her head. “I want to go back home.”
“You will. Soon. What’s your name?”
“Alina.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Justin said about it, which, indeed, meant “beautiful” in Arabic.
Alina nodded, and her face formed a tiny smile. “My mommy says I am her beautiful princess.”