by Jack July
“Hmm, haf you scanned the package for devices?”
“Da, there is a tracking device.”
The countess let out an evil chuckle. “Vel Aleksey, you know vat to do.”
Aleksey left through the back of the apartment, walked down the alley and circled around the block. He watched as Carter got back in the car and looked down, apparently to work on something. He crossed the street and came up behind the car. Just before he got to the driver’s side window he drew the silenced 9mm Markov. Carter looked up just as the first of four shots shattered the window. He never had a chance. Aleksey dropped the package on his lap and walked away.
Chapter 50
Princeton strode into the clinic and to the front desk. The woman seemed disinterested in his presence. “Excuse me, miss?”
She pulled three sheets of paper from three different piles and shoved them at him through a window. “Take a seat and fill these out. We are out of pens so you’ll need to wait for someone else to finish.”
“I do not have a medical issue, but I need to see Doctor Wirths immediately.”
“He’s busy. Take a seat.”
“No, I need to see him now.” He walked through the door that lead to the exam rooms and began to look in each one. She leapt from her seat and chased him down the hall demanding that he return to the waiting room.
Princeton shouted down the hall, “Dr. Wirths!”
Dr. Wirths poked his head out of an exam room, “Can I help you?”
“I’m calling the Garda!” the nurse exclaimed.
Dr. Wirths shook his head, “No, no, everyone calm down. Sir, I’m very busy.”
Princeton was curt, “This will only take a moment.”
The doctor stuck his head into the exam room and excused himself. To Princeton he said “Make it quick.”
“Yesterday you examined a young girl, Claire Davis. You offered her a job in Slovakia helping your mother. I am Mr. Princeton, head of security for the Castle Dunn. We want her back, today.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. Mr. Princeton is it? I see many patients. Now, my mother lives in Germany. I don’t know where you heard this but none of it is true.”
“So you never offered her a job?”
“Mr. Princeton, you need to be very careful believing anything these young prostitutes say.”
Princeton gave him a hard stare then handed him a card. “If you remember anything else, please let us know.”
“I will do that. Good day Mr. Princeton.”
Princeton walked out and climbed into his Land Rover. He stared through the windshield at the Clinic and thought He’s lying. How did he know she was a prostitute?
Adele Harris sat in her office eating lunch when John Masters arrived.
John swiped a couple of French fries off Adele’s plate and jerked his hand back before a letter opener impaled it. He laughed.
“Okay, Masters, what do ya know?’
“Pig’s pussy’s pork.”
“And that’s why I keep you around: keen insightful analysis. Heard from Spencer?”
“No ma’am. It’s going on eight hours since he passed into Slovakia. I’m not worried yet, but it’s a bit unusual. He calls in every four hours; I can set my watch by him.”
“Okay, keep me posted. Anything else?”
“Yeah, I might have a job for Fenian. Iranian child pornographers in France.”
Adele took a bite of her BLT and thought for a moment. “Iranians and French. What the hell does that have to do with us?”
“They’re distributing in America. Michigan, to be exact. The FBI thinks out of Dearbornistan.”
“So let them bust ’em.”
“They did, but then someone else opened a shop. They want us to follow it to the source and handle it.”
“I kind of wanted to give the kid a little more time off. She had a tough time in Toronto.”
“We’re not ready to go, anyway. It’ll be another couple of weeks until we gather the necessary intel to send her out. What about Darfur?”
“What about Darfur?”
“I’m waiting for the order to take out Omar-al-Bashir.”
“The President wants the Europeans to get off their dead asses and put some skin in the game.”
“You know I’m the least political person around here, but that’s 400,000 murdered and that’s straight up genocide.”
“She’s more focused on preventing a WMD attack on America.” Adele rested her hand on a stack of files. “You see this? If this slips through, we have a couple hundred thousand dead here. Governance is about choices.”
John nodded, “When you talk to her, tell her we have a team prepped in-country.”
“Yes, I know. I started that operation three years ago.”
“Oh, Okay then, I guess I’ll get back to work.”
The phone on Adele’s desk beeped. She reached over and hit the button for the speaker phone. “Yes, Karen.”
“Slovakian station chief on line one.”
John froze by the door and Adele waved him back in.
“Hank? How’s it goin’?”
“Ma’am, why wasn’t I made aware that we were running an op in Bratislava?”
“Because we aren’t.”
“Then we have a problem, because my contact in the Slovakian SIS informed me that they just found a dead CIA agent in a car across from a newly abandoned SVR safe house.”
“Do you have this agent’s name?”
“Fingerprints they ran through Interpol say Carter Spencer.”
Adele leaned back in her chair, removed her glasses, flipped them onto her desk and rubbed her eyes. She sat silently contemplating. John knew what was next. It was the eerie calm before the tornado fell out of the sky and destroyed a town.
“Hank. I’m going to have Masters call you and read you in on what’s going on. Any problems getting Spencer shipped back here?”
“No ma’am. There is also the matter of Defense Department documents found on his body.”
“Seal them up and send them back. We’ll check ’em for prints. Tell your friends in the SIS those documents were fakes.”
“They’re going to ask questions.”
“Yeah, well, for once you can tell them the truth. We had an analyst trying to follow a package to its destination.”
“That was it?”
“Yep, thank you, Hank.”
Adele was half mumbling, half talking to herself, “So that means they found the tracker, and they have figured out the documents were fake. It also means that whoever is pulling this shit is selling the information to the SVR. Which means this whole thing just turned into a shit storm. MOTHER FUCK ME!”
Adele started tapping her finger on her desk, each tap getting harder. Then her fist started banging the desk, the last hit punctuated with a screaming “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!”
She stood up and pointed her finger at John. “MASTERS, YOU GET THAT FRIEND OF BRADDOCK’S, AH…”
“Carl Stinson, ma’am.”
“YEAH, GET HIS ASS IN THIS BUILDING TODAY! YOU TELL HIM IF HE ISN”T HERE I WILL TRY HIS FUCKING ASS FOR TREASON AND INSERT THE NEEDLE MYSELF. IF HIS LAWYER GIVES YOU ANY SHIT, BURY HIS ASS IN A FUCKING HOLE.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Adele’s breathing was hard as she looked out the window. It was a gray cold day and she felt a chill. After a few more calming deep breaths she turned around. “John, put together a team. See what we’re missing. Get me a report ASAP.”
“Yes ma’am.” John bowed his head a bit and said, “Adele?”
She turned to look at him, “Yeah.”
“You ok?”
“I will be.”
This is the first one you have lost isn’t it?”
“As director? Yeah.”
“It won’t be the last.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, John. Dismissed.”
She reached down and hit the button on the intercom. “Karen, come in here please.”
Karen had heard the commotion and timidly walked into the office.
“Karen, get the chaplain on standby and tell my security chief we have to make a home visit.”
“Did we lose someone?”
“Carter Spencer.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, ma’am, right away.”
Adele thought of everyone who worked for her as though they were her children. They were her responsibility, from the person who mopped the floor to her most accomplished operative. She had wondered how it would feel to lose one. She sent him to his death. She was the one who gave him permission. It was she who would outwardly show strength while she ached inside and, when alone, privately mourn. For now, her thoughts were of vengeance, brutal cold vengeance.
Amy and Bogus stopped at the gatehouse where Princeton, Constance and Micky sat at the kitchen table. Bogus demanded, “Where is she?”
The three looked at each other before Princeton spoke. “Sir, we don’t know.”
“If you don’t know, WHY ARE YOU SITTING HERE? THIS IS THE ONLY PLACE WE KNOW SHE ISN’T.” Bogus looked away to gather himself.
Amy stood off to the side, wheels turning, using all of her training to come up with the next move. She put her hand on Bogus’ shoulder to calm him before speaking to Princeton. “You said the doctor denied giving her the job?”
“Yes, but I caught him in a lie. At first he said he didn’t remember her, then he called her a prostitute.”
Fenian’s little twisted half smile appeared. “Then I’ll go talk to him.”
Bogus shook his head. “No, you won’t. Princeton, you take Allister, go visit the doctor and find out where she is, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come, Amy. I will call my friends in Slovakia.”
“I think Micky and I are going to walk back. We need to have a little talk.”
Bogus nodded, turned and stomped out the door.
Amy looked at Princeton and Constance. “Mr. Princeton, your job is to keep people out, not in. Miss Constance, I know you had no idea she would run. He’s grown very attached to her, and he will get over his anger. We just need to find her, okay?”
They both nodded, shamefaced. “Micky.” She motioned with her head toward the door.
As they walked down the road toward the castle, Amy put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “You okay?”
“No, this is my fault. I should have told Mr. Princeton, but she said she would hate me if I did.”
“Yeah, it’s hard to go against someone you love.”
He got a little defensive. “I don’t love, well, love, you know…”
“Yes, you do. So do I, and so does Mr. Z. It’s why you were in her room when you weren’t supposed to be.”
He blushed and looked away. “I’m sorry. Mr. Z is going to want me to go, isn’t he?”
She gave him a little smile and shook her head. “If he does, he has a funny way of showing it. He has lawyers working on making you and Claire members of our family. Besides, had you not been in her room, we wouldn’t know what we know. So you see, sometimes things happen for a reason.”
“You mean, like your son? I would be your son?”
“We’ll start with guardianship then go from there. But it has to be okay with you and Claire.”
“I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?”
“Yep, the Castle Dunn needs a knight, and you’ll do just fine. I think you are going to be a very special man.” She saw a little smile. “Now we have some work to do. I need you to think hard and tell me everything Claire said. The smallest thing could be very important.”
Micky thought for a moment, “She may call back.”
“Call back? She called?”
“Yes, at 9:30 this morning.”
“Which phone?”
“The stables.”
“Did she say where she was?”
“Slovakia.”
“No, Micky, what town.”
“She didn’t say. We were in the middle of talking and the phone went dead.”
Amy was very careful not to let Micky see her fear. Tatiana’s warning about Slovakia, the apparent nerves of the normally unshakable Bogus, and the doctor’s denial, kept pointing to a bad place. But at least now she had a call to trace. Things were looking up. They went to the stables to check the answering machine, but there were no messages from Claire. It was two in the morning in Washington, but the CIA never slept. She sent Micky into the castle to check on Bogus, then she picked up the phone.
Chapter 51
Meyer Braddock was sitting by the heated indoor pool sipping a sidecar when his phone rang. He checked the number and felt his heart jump. It was an overseas line. He yelled for the agent that had been stationed at his house waiting to trace such a call. The Agent nodded and Meyer picked up.
“Heelllooo Meyer.”
Meyer answered nervously, “Countess.”
“Meyer, Meyer, Meyer. I am sooo disappointed in you. Ve had a deal, remember?”
“I’m sorry Countess, you see—”
“But, dat tis okay, I understand. You see Meyer, you may not keep your vord, but I alvays keep mine. Guud bye Meyer.”
“Countess? Countess?”
The agent listened for a little longer and said, “She hung up. Looks like she used a burn phone. No help there.”
Meyer took a long drink and thought, If she keeps her word, I’m a dead man.
Adele made the arrangements to have Carter Spencer’s body met by a color guard at Dover Air Force Base. She wanted to be out in the field working, but that wasn’t her job anymore. She tried to keep her mind occupied by picking up a file from another case, but that wasn’t working. Then Karen spoke over the intercom, “Masters on line one.”
Adele picked up. “Go.”
“Ma’am, he won’t talk.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. How about rendition?”
“No, I’ll be right down.”
Adele opened the top right drawer on her desk and removed the Colt Python .357 from its holster. She flipped open the cylinder, pushed the ejection rod, and the shells fell into the desk drawer. She rifled through the drawer and found a full speed loader with IR, which stood for interrogation room, written on the plastic. After reloading the gun, she put it in her purse, left her office and headed down stairs.
When Adele entered the interrogation room, Stinson wore a look of quiet defiance. He didn’t even look up to see who walked in. “Everybody out. Eddie,” she called to the man behind the two-way mirror without looking, “shut down the camera and leave.” The muffled sounds of doors being closed stopped and the room became quiet. The only sound remaining was the slight buzz of the florescent bulbs and a little hiss from the air vent. Adele took a seat across from Stinson and folded her hands on top of the table. “Mr. Stinson, do you know who I am?”
He nodded his head.
“Mr. Stinson, I spent an hour and a half this afternoon holding a wife with two kids after performing the most difficult part of my job. I had to tell her that her husband, the man I was responsible for, was shot to death. He was murdered in Slovakia investigating Meyer Braddock’s attempt at treason. You, on the other hand, were successful at treason, which is why I’m going to see you put to death. That is, of course, if you make it that far.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out the Colt Python, opened the cylinder, pushed the ejector and dumped the shells on top of the table. She glanced down and saw a shell with a red dot of paint on the primer. She picked it up, loaded it, spun the cylinder and slammed it shut. She p
ulled back the hammer and pointed it at his head.
“What are you doing? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” he shouted, thrashing in his chair. The cuffs held him tight.
“Well, it’s like this. You are going to tell me everything I want to know, or I am going to keep pulling this trigger until I blow your fucking brains all over that wall.”
“YOU CAN’T…” ‘Click,’ the hammer came down. “AHHH!” he screamed.
She pulled the hammer back again. “Stinson, your activities killed one of my people and I’m all out of give-a-fucks. Talk.”
“YOU DON’T UNDER…,” ‘Click,’ the hammer fell again. “NO, NO,” he screamed, “OKAY, OKAY.”
“Now that man who was in here before, he’s going to come back in and ask you questions. Give him any shit whatsoever, I will come back in here and kill you, because I can. Understood?”
He nodded and she roared, “THAT WOULD BE YES MA’AM!”
“Y-yes ma’am.”
She picked up the shells, put them in her purse with the pistol and walked out the door. John was sitting in a chair, waiting. He stood and they walked down the hall. “John, that was a good idea putting a dot of red paint on the dud,” she said.
“Ma’am, the dud had a green paint dot on it. The red dots were live.”
She stopped and stared at him for a moment. “Oh, well, um, whoops.”
Bogus and Amy sat at the kitchen table with a pen and notepad, going over everything they could think of. Bogus made calls to everyone he knew in Slovakia. No one knew of anyone named Wirths who was a woman rich enough to have a housekeeper.
Amy, Bogus and Micky picked at dinner, eating little. Constance came through the back door into the kitchen and announced, “Princeton is back.” As they stood, Amy stopped and turned to Micky. “Stay here and try to eat something. I’ll let you know what we find out.”
Micky nodded and sat. Princeton and Allister climbed from the car, and Bogus could tell it wasn’t good news. “Well?” Bogus questioned.
“He’s gone. His landlady said he packed in a hurry and left a few hours ago.”