“I’m not sure, just some old guys he worked with years ago. There’s the Delacroix couple and then a couple Englishmen. Why would he think there’s a connection between them and this Russian we don’t know anything about?”
“How long have you had that search running?”
“A couple hours now, so far nothing’s popped up. What you working on?”
“Been on some extremist sites, trying to see if anyone’s up to no good.”
“Seen anything interesting?”
“Seen plenty that made me sick, but nothing threatening. It’s actually so quiet it’s scary.”
“Like they’re trying to stay quiet for some reason?”
“That’s what I was thinking. It’s almost like…hey…something’s on your screen.”
Miriam looked back at her screen and there was a flashing alert in the top corner. She clicked on it and read the information, then pointed for Ahmed to take a look.
“Is that a hit on that search you were running?”
“Looks like it. Someone’s looking for Jean Delacroix.”
“Got a location?”
“If he stays online long enough. This one’s tricky. Look.”
“Location keeps changing. He’s routing through proxies, using several to hide where he really is.”
“That just means it’s gonna take longer to find him. Should have something in a few minutes if he doesn’t disconnect too soon.”
“ Is that the new tracking program Nathan installed the other day?”
“Yep. It’ll filter out all the fake location data. Works like a charm.”
“I haven’t used it yet.”
“I messed around with it the other day when I was bored.”
“How’d you do that?”
“I had some hacker friends in college.”
“They helped you test that?”
“Well…kinda.”
“Ah…they didn’t know they were helping you.”
“Precisely. Got location within a few feet each time. These hacker types think they’re so slick, and some of them are, but nobody can hide forever these days. Only way to do that is to go offline completely.”
“How long do you figure to find them?”
“Shouldn’t be too much longer. Got it narrowed down to France…hang on…Paris…should be a minute or two to get the address…bingo!”
Miriam pointed to the screen and there was a map with a house pinpointed. She zoomed in and took a couple screenshots.
“What do we do now,” Ahmed asked.
“I’m calling Dr. Zielinski.”
Avi arrived a moment later and took a chair next to Miriam.
“You find something?”
“Yeah. You were right. Someone started searching for Jean. Traced the location of the search. Right there,” she said, pointing to the screen.
“Can you pull up a photo?” Avi asked.
Miriam entered a few keystrokes and pulled up a satellite photo of the house.
Avi studied the map for a few seconds and asked Miriam to zoom out.
“20th Arrondissement, large immigrant population there, North Africans, Arabs, you name it.”
“You would think Russians would stick out like sore thumbs there,” Miriam said.
“Not necessarily. If it’s a Russian safe house and they’re running ops out of there, there will be people coming and going at all hours. Less likely to draw attention in an area like that.”
“So, what do we do with this information?”
“If we had more people in the field, we would put the house under surveillance.”
“We have Rachel, and she’s with your friends.”
“Rachel doesn’t have experience and Jean is too old.”
“Aren’t Ken and Elijah headed there?” Ahmed asked.
“They will be departing Kenya today. With a fuel stop, it will take them nearly thirty hours to reach Paris,” Avi said.
“Lot of Africans there. They’d fit in. Could they plant some bugs around the house without being noticed?”
“It would be risky, but they’d have a better chance than Rachel. They’ve done this sort of thing before.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Miriam said, “Rachel doesn’t have anything like that with her. She went on vacation.”
“Ken won’t get there for another day anyway. We could ship her a package,” Ahmed said.
“Someone was searching for Jean just a few minutes ago,” Miriam said, “Rachel needs to get out of there now.”
“Leave that to me,” Avi said, “I know just where she can go. I’ll contact her and I’ll get Earl to run a package to FedEx for me.”
Elijah came in for a smooth landing on the relatively calm waters of Lake Victoria and pulled up to the pier. He was about to shut the engines down when he noticed that Ken was standing on the pier next to several crates of gear and luggage. He tied up to the pier and exited the plane.
“What is all this?” he asked.
“How is Nyangumi?” Ken asked.
“As trim as ever. Should be able to cruise 150 now.”
“That’s good. Load up. We need to go.”
“Go where?”
“Paris.”
“What’s in Paris?”
“Big bloody tower for starters.”
“Doesn’t look like you packed for a holiday.”
“Remember Rachel?”
“Cute American girl we helped on that op last month, works with the Dr.?”
“Yeah, she’s in Paris. Might be in some trouble.”
“Well, then, let’s get this gear stowed and get going. How long you figure to get to Paris?”
“One stop for fuel, and if we can cruise at 150 like you said, maybe thirty hours. I’ll fly the first leg and you can get some beauty sleep.”
“Any idea what we’re up against?”
“No idea. We’re meeting Rachel at the safe house. She’ll be there with Jean and Marie.”
“Jean and Marie are involved?”
“I have no idea. Avi will fill us in en route.”
Hank Wilcox was well into his second pint at the Nag’s Head when his phone buzzed. He looked at the text.
Hope you haven’t forgotten about the class reunion. Should be fun seeing everyone again.
“Bloody hell,” he thought, as he paid his tab and left the pub. Ninety minutes later, he was knocking on the door of a flat in Epping. Leon Dexter opened the door and ushered him in, shutting the door quickly.
“I take it you got the same message,” he said.
Hank held up his phone to show Leon.
“So, what do you think old Zielinski is up to?”
“We’d best find out. I doubt it’s just to catch up over a pint.”
Leon and Hank went into the study and Leon booted up a computer and opened the email.
“That thing secure?” Hank asked.
“As secure as you can get these days. Still need to be careful. You want a drink?”
“What do you think I was doing when the message came?”
A few seconds later they read a message from a nondescript address they both knew belonged to Avi Zielinski.
You’re booked for tomorrow. Left the lights on. Be safe.
“That was rather vague,” Leon said.
“Simple and to the point,” Hank said, “Paris safe house tomorrow. We should head over tonight and make sure everything is good.”
“When’s the last time that house was used?”
“Not sure. That’s why we need to get there ASAP.”
“Looks like that drink will have to wait.”
6
Rachel helped Jean back into the passenger seat of the car and finished loading the groceries into the trunk before getting in to start the drive back to the house.
“You know I need to be moving on soon,” Rachel said.
“Where are you headed?”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to find out who’s after me and why, but the other
part of me just wants to go home.”
“I think you know who it is, but it’s the why that is the big question.”
“I’m betting it’s Yuriy, that Russian we think was behind the attack last month, but why go after me now?”
“He doesn’t know what you know. You’re a liability. You need to be careful.”
“That’s why I don’t think I can go home. If he can find me here, he could find me there as well. I need to get to the bottom of this.”
“You’re just one person. You’ll need help.”
“We have a good team back home. I’m not alone.”
“You’ll need more people here.”
“Avi gave me more names, a couple guys in England he says I can trust.”
“Hank and Leon?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You all used to work together?”
“You could say that.”
“I bet you have some stories.”
“More than a few. We got in a few scrapes back then…wait…you said that Russian’s name was Yuriy?”
“Yeah…ring a bell?”
“Possibly. We had a run in with a Yuriy over 40 years ago. If it’s the same man, he is a very formidable opponent. He would have to be in his 70s by now. He had a younger man doing his dirty work back then. Name was Anatoly or something like that. If he’s still around, he is the dangerous one.”
“What about Anatoly? What makes him dangerous?”
“He’s the violent one. Yuriy is the one pulling the strings and Anatoly was always the one who had to do what needed to be done. Former Spetznaz, highly skilled killer and as cold as they come…and we’re most likely on his bad side.”
“And he hasn’t come after you before now?”
“Yuriy has probably kept him busy over the years, or he’s dead. We should hope for the latter.”
“We’re almost back to the house. Are we sure we got everything on Marie’s list?”
“Let me call her and make sure…wait…I appear to have forgotten my phone. Hand me yours, will you?”
“I left mine charging in the bedroom. How absent minded can I be?”
“At least I have an excuse. I’m old.”
A few moments later they pulled into the garage and Marie helped Jean into the house while Rachel brought the groceries in and laid them on the kitchen table.
“You two sit down and I’ll call you when supper is ready,” Marie said.
Jean sat down and propped his legs up.
“Thank you, dear,” he said as Rachel handed him a drink.
She came back a moment later with her phone and noticed three missed calls from Ohio and two emails.
“Someone was trying to reach me from the office,” she said as she scrolled to the email.
Get to the safe house ASAP. Jean will know where it is. More info to follow.
Anatoly drove toward Jean’s house at a leisurely pace hoping not to attract any attention. He intended to scope out the area before going back later in the evening. He had studied maps of the area, but there was no substitute for being there. He took note of the side streets and which ones had no outlet in case he needed to get away quickly. He came back down the street when he saw the garage door to the Delacroix’s house open and a car pull out. He slowed to let the car out of the driveway and noted when it pulled out that a young woman was driving and the Delacroix couple were sitting in the back seat.
“Where are they headed, I wonder?” he said to himself.
Traffic was light, so following them would be tricky, but he couldn’t lose them either. He thought of waiting at the house, but didn’t want to risk losing his opportunity if they didn’t return. When they got out of the neighborhood and onto the main roads, he let a couple cars get between them and kept following. He placed a call to the safe house to request a couple more cars so they could swap out and keep the surveillance going if the target was going far.
Two more turns and he became suspicious. It appeared like they were headed toward the 20th arrondissement. Why would they go there? Did they know where the safe house was? In five minutes, another car arrived and they acknowledged one another before the other driver took up his position and he fell back a few more car lengths.
Jean and Marie were both in the back seat while Rachel drove, Jean giving her directions to the safe house in the 19th arrondissement.
“Who sent that email?” Marie asked.
“That was Ahmed. He works in the office, does most of the computer work and translates all the Arabic intel.”
“He didn’t mention any names?” Jean asked.
“It’s a secure line, but why be risky?”
“Good point.”
Rachel stole another look in the rear- view mirror.
“Don’t look now, but there’s been the same grey Citroen following us for the last few miles.”
Marie held up a compact mirror, pretending to check her reflection, but in reality was checking behind without turning her head.
“The Citroen just dropped back but another car took its place.”
“We can’t let them follow us straight to the safe house,” Jean said.
“Only way to find out for sure,” Rachel said as she turned right at the next intersection and took another immediate left. She took another right turn at the next intersection and stayed on that road for a few blocks. Before long she saw the Citroen and a white BMW sedan behind them again, in almost the same position they had been before. She took three more turns and still failed to lose them.
Rachel was just turning on random streets, hoping to lose their pursuers, but to no avail, and before long she found herself on the E15 heading north out of the city. The farther they got, the thinner the traffic got until there were few cars to hide their pursuers. At this point, the BMW passed them and took up a position a hundred yards ahead while the Citroen came up closer behind them.
“This doesn’t look good,” Jean said, “They’re trying to trap us. Doesn’t look like a standard surveillance at all.”
He stole a look behind as the Citroen came closer and his suspicions were confirmed. The face behind the wheel was none other than Anatoly Karelin. The hair was thinner and greyer, but it was him. The car in front had slowed down and the one behind was gaining. Any doubt as to the intentions of their pursuers was gone when the side mirror exploded and caused Rachel to jerk the wheel. There were two more thuds in the trunk of the car, but nothing vital was hit.
“They’re shooting at us?” Rachel screamed.
“Just keep driving,” Jean said as he reached under the seat and retrieved a 9mm pistol.
“What are you hoping to do with that?” Marie asked, “You don’t have anything bigger under there?”
“There’s a rifle, but I can’t seem to reach it.”
Marie twisted out of the way to give Jean more room to reach under the seat and his hand found the butt of a rifle just as another fusillade of rounds hit the back of the car, shattering the back windshield, and hitting Marie in the back of the head. Jean swore vehemently, wiped his wife’s blood off the side of his face, flipped the selector switch on the rifle to full auto, and unleashed half a clip at the pursuing car.
He saw the car fall back as several of the rounds hit home, but the car gained again a few seconds later. He hadn’t hit the driver or done any vital damage. He was about to fire another burst when Karelin raised his arm out of the window and fired.
Jean lurched back in pain as rounds hit his shoulder and upper arm. He tried to raise the rifle back up to return fire, but it was futile. The arm hung there useless at his side. He fumbled with the weapon, trying to put in a fresh clip, but he was clumsy at best with only one arm. Just then Karelin fired again and the left rear tire blew out. Rachel tried to keep the car under control, but she had been going nearly 70 mph and it was too much. The car lurched to the side and rolled over twice, coming to rest upside down.
When the car came t
o a stop, Rachel took a quick assessment of her situation and determined that she hadn’t suffered any injuries, at least not that she was aware of at the moment. She undid her seatbelt and began to crawl out of the shattered side window. Jean was trying to do the same from the back seat, but his wounded arm was making it difficult. As soon as she got out of the car, the pavement next to her head exploded with the impact of two rounds and she darted around to the other side of the car.
“Jean, can you get out?”
“Only one good arm…can’t get…”
“Hold on,” Rachel said as she reached in and pulled him through the window.
“It’s Anatoly…I knew it…take this,” handing Rachel the rifle, ”there are more clips in the back seat.”
Rachel put a fresh magazine in the rifle and peeked around the car to see Karelin approaching, and another man coming from the other side. She tried to take aim, but Karelin fired in their direction. She jumped back around the car as the rounds hit where she had been, and she heard Jean exhale as he was hit. She pivoted the other way to see the other man approaching and she dropped him with three rounds to the chest before dragging Jean behind the car. One look at the wound in his chest told her all she needed to know. He wasn’t going to last long. She lifted the rifle and fired a burst in Karelin’s direction, hitting him in the leg, before turning her attention back to Jean. There was a growing pool of blood under him and his lips were moving. She bent low and put her ear to his mouth to try to hear what he was saying, but his voice was barely above a hoarse whisper.
“Don’t…England…it’s Karelin…Kazakov…”
“What?”
“Don’t go to England.”
Jean coughed up a mouthful of blood and gathered his strength to speak again, pulling Rachel down toward him as he mumbled one last thing before breathing his last. It sounded like an address, the address for the safe house. She looked to see if he would repeat himself, but he was gone. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she reached down and closed his eyes, and just then two more rounds struck the pavement inches from her.
The Korean Gambit Page 4