Spy Thriller: An Involuntary Spy: An espionage thriller

by Kenneth Eade

  He watched 16E and F as they discovered their tire was flat and 16F ran frantically run back into the store. Seth got in his car and made his way to the bank, parking as close to the entrance as possible. He pulled his briefcase out of the safety deposit box and withdrew the maximum cash allowed from his account, all the while looking around for any sign of his pursuers. Seeing nobody, he left the building.

  As Seth approached I-64, he saw the gray sedan again in his rearview mirror, closely approaching. The stop at the bank must have given them enough time to use a can of quick fix to fill up the tire. Seth took a sharp right on Clayton and another on Oakland Avenue, screeching another right on Macklind, through a red light, then tried to shake his tail by weaving through the residential areas in random fashion. Finally, he doubled back to Hampton and hit I-64. There was still no trace of them as he merged onto I-70 and Seth breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  As he exited for the airport, Seth saw, from his right side mirror, the gray sedan, weaving maniacally through traffic. Too late to take evasive maneuvers – he had already made the exit. Seth punched it, but the gray sedan gained speed, rammed his rear bumper, and sent his car fishtailing off the road and onto the dirt shoulder. The car spun around, making its own dust tornado, as Seth turned toward the spin and regained control of the car.

  He headed straight for the airport police station, and slid into a parking space among the police cars, with his pursuers hot on his tail. Before they realized it, 16E and F’s car came to a screeching halt in front of the police station and several police officers who were heading for their vehicles looked up at them. Seth waved to police.

  “Officer, these guys were chasing me. I passed them on I-64 and they got pissed off. I think it’s some kind of road rage. One of them waved a gun out the window.”

  That was it for 16E and F. One officer came over to him to take a report, as two headed toward the gray sedan as it backed up in an attempt to leave. The officers signaled the sedan to stop, but it kept backing up. They drew their weapons and took a firing stance, and the car stopped.

  “Out of the car, hands on your heads!” said one officer to 16E and F.

  Seth was stuck giving reports in the airport police station for the next hour. When they finally let him go, he headed for long term parking at the United Airlines terminal.

  Relieved, but still shaken, Seth got out of the car in the parking lot, holding his briefcase, and got the small heavy suitcase out of his trunk. He opted for the stairs, as he didn’t want to be trapped in any close spaces, like the elevator. It would be hard to carry the heavy case down the stairs, but even worse to be cornered in an elevator. As he turned to descend the last flight of stairs, he almost ran into Bill, who was below him, a pistol trained right on him.

  “Seth, you are so predictable,” said Bill, with one of his famous toothy grins. Seth looked around – nowhere to run – Bill was blocking the only way out.

  42

  Sunday night could not come soon enough. Seth was ready for a break from the madness of what his life had become, and Natasha was just what he needed. She arrived around 6 pm with two bags of groceries.

  “What’s this?” asked Seth.

  “Well, it’s not really much now, but it will be our dinner.”

  “Dinner sounds good. What is it?”

  “Russian borsch. My mom’s recipe.”

  Natasha set the groceries down in the kitchen as Seth approached her from behind. He hugged her and pressed his face into her back. Her smell was alluring and enticing. Every moment that Seth spent with Natasha was precious to him, and she was becoming more and more important to him every day.

  “Were you ever planning on introducing me to your parents?” asked Seth, turning her around and slipping his hands around her waist. He tenderly kissed her on the lips.

  “Only if it gets serious,” said Natasha, turning her attention away from the groceries and returning the kiss.

  “It is serious,” said Seth, continuing the kiss. Seth felt so close to her, it was as if they shared the same breath. Natasha finally pulled away.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Seth led Natasha to the couch by the hand and continued to kiss her as he caressed her cheeks and hair. Suddenly, he reached the realization that all the waiting was over, and surrendered himself to passion. He held her, reaching under her shirt and across her back to unsnap her bra. Meeting no resistance, he slipped his hand under the cup and caressed her breast. She sighed and kissed his neck.

  He reached down below her undergarments and she matched his strokes under his as they continued to kiss. At the height of passion, both of them lost control and began to strip each other, one garment at a time, while they explored each other’s body. As their passion gained fury, Seth perched above her, looked into her wanting eyes and he sank into the moist and hot bed between her thighs.

  43

  When Seth opened his eyes the next morning, the pleasant sight of Natasha’s sweet sleeping face on her pillow was the first thing he saw. Her eyes opened, and they exchanged mutual smiles.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “The best morning.”

  “I’ll fix breakfast.”

  Seth would have given anything to prolong this pleasure, but it was Monday morning, and he needed an excuse to complete his surveillance. As Natasha put freshly poached eggs and toast on the table, Seth said to her, “I probably won’t come to work today.”

  “Why, are you sick?”

  “I’m getting a little cold, I think. Hope you don’t get it.”

  “I’ll be right over after work to take care of you.”

  “Really, that’s not necessary.”

  “Nonsense. The Borsch is better the second day. It’ll make you feel healthy in no time.”

  There was no sense arguing with her. Arguing with a woman after she’s made up her mind about something is as useless as taking a shower with your clothes on.

  After an ample breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham and potatoes, Natasha left for work, and Seth took his post at the café across from Dave’s apartment building, and watched. After a few hours, Julia came out, turned right, and walked right past the café. He put some money on the table for his bill, followed her, and lost himself in the crowd that was moving along the street to conceal himself from her, but not so much that he was not able to see her.

  When she finally reached her destination, Seth was relieved to see that it was the shopping mall. He had at least one hour – maybe an hour and a half to be safe – to get into Dave’s apartment, copy his hard drive, and install the spyware. He quickly trotted back to Dave’s apartment.

  Seth rang the bell for Dave’s apartment, just to make sure it was really empty. He waited a few moments, then rang several other neighbors’ bells until he got buzzed in at random.

  He went up the stairs to the first landing, inserted his home made key into the lock and turned it until he heard the multiple cylinders click one, two, three times – then he was in.

  Seth took a look around the apartment. It had a small corridor, a bathroom, a living room and kitchen. The apartment was in pretty clean condition, so he assumed Julia was a good housekeeper, or that she had hired one. There were two bedrooms, each with a bed, a small desk and each had their own laptop. Seth was surprised that they had not taken any precautions to guard against access.

  One bedroom was clean and tidy. Its closet was full of women’s clothes. The other was unkempt and messy. The bed was not even made. It was a double bed, but only slept in on the right side. The closet in this room had only men’s clothes. It was obvious that Dave and Julia did not sleep together. Seth quickly filed that thought away, as there were two computers to crack instead of one like he had expected. He started on the one in the messy room.

  This was Dave’s laptop, and it was not so easy to get past his password as it was with Bill’s computer. After sweating over it for about fifteen minutes, he was in, but that was fifteen minutes
that he couldn’t get back. Seth loaded the spyware program, plugged in a hard drive and started copying Dave’s files, then went off in to the other room to crack Julia’s computer.

  Julia’s password was even harder to crack. Seth checked the time. He had at worst 45 minutes and at best half an hour left, and there was no way to copy the hard drives any faster. He set up his flash drive to copy Julia’s documents file and went to the other room to check on Dave’s computer. The copying was 65% complete. Suddenly, he heard the cylinders turning in the lock of the front door. He pulled out the hard drive, put it in his jacket pocket and ran into the other room, closing the door behind him as he had found it.

  “Julia?”

  It was Dave’s voice in the corridor. Seth looked for an escape –there was none. He opened the window and looked out at the small uncovered balcony. This would have to do. He pulled the window closed as best he could and looked down. It was a one story drop to the ground, but if he hung from the balcony, he could cut the distance of his fall so as not to injure himself. Just as he put his leg over the railing in order to begin his descent, he looked back into the room, and saw his flash drive, blinking in the USB slot of Julia’s computer. Shit. It had already been about two minutes since Dave had entered and called Julia’s name.

  Seth could either risk going back into the room or leaving his flash drive in her computer. He quickly reopened the window, jumped back into the room, grabbed the flash drive and went back out, closing the window behind him. Swinging first one, then both legs over the balcony railing, Seth turned toward the window and lowered himself down on the balcony rails until he was hanging from the bottom of the balcony. He was either going to break both of his ankles and lay on the ground until someone helped him or walk away. Mustering up his courage, he let go of his grip and fell.

  44

  “Did you really think you could get away with this?” Bill wagged the gun at the briefcase, like he was scolding Seth. “Just give me the reports, Seth.”

  “What reports?”

  Seth’s briefcase was dangling at his left side and his right hand was on the suitcase, which was teetering precariously on the edge of a step.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Seth. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  “Would you really shoot me, Bill?”

  “Wanna find out?”

  Seth had no time to think to make the next decision, which could be one of life or death. He wasn’t sure if Bill had the cold bloodedness to kill him, but he certainly had a lot to lose if Seth went public with the reports and desperate men are known to take desperate measures. When he had contemplated taking these actions, he had never considered that it would get this dangerous. It was too late to turn back now, because it was his life that was immediately at risk.

  Seth pushed the suitcase as hard as he could at Bill, which tumbled and bumped and struck him, knocking him over. Seth heard the sound of a gunshot as he turned and ran back up the stairs as fast as he could, through the parking lot, and descended the staircase at the other end of the lot. He crossed the street to the ticketing area for United Airlines, all the while looking from every direction for Bill or anyone else who could be pursuing him. Coming after him personally was a desperate measure for Bill. The good news was that it probably meant that Seth was only being pursued by Germinat and that Bill wanted to keep it quiet, if possible. That could not last for long.

  Seth approached the United counter. Thank God there was no line. He paid for his ticket and headed for security. Bill would never get through there without a boarding pass and certainly not with a gun.

  In the lounge, Seth sat down, hands still shaking, and put his briefcase on his lap to pull out his laptop so he could schedule his flight to Moscow as soon as possible after arriving to Washington. As he did, he saw it – the bullet had ripped a hole clean through the briefcase. That was too close. A shiver went up Seth’s spine. Seth always knew he was going to die – it is something we all face – but he had never come that close to it before and had never thought about it. He didn’t even feel like he had lived yet.

  He got out the laptop, powered it up, and booked a corresponding flight to Moscow. Then he began researching Russian media in his quest to find someone to tell his story to the public. Of course, most of the media was in the Russian language, and he wanted the coverage to be as broad as possible. He searched for western correspondents in Russia. There was the Guardian, which could make a good disclosure vehicle for the documents, except, of course, the classified report, which he intended to hold on to for as long as possible.

  He would telephone the Guardian from Washington, and send them a secure link to download the materials. That, no doubt, would brand Seth with another label in addition to traitor and spy – fugitive.

  45

  Seth hit the ground hard with both feet, and then fell back on his butt. The fall was painful, and struck a nerve in his tailbone that seemed to ring a bell in his brain. He scrambled to get up. Everything appeared to be working; nothing broken. Standing up, he felt that his feet were in good marching order, and saw that everyone around him was staring, so he slipped away into the crowd of pedestrians on the sidewalk. He wanted to get as far away from Dave’s building as possible. Seth checked his pockets for the hard drive and the flash drive with what had been partially downloaded from both computers – everything was there.

  When Seth got home, he quickly powered up his laptop and opened Dave’s hard drive. Dave had an impressive collection of homemade porn, some video games, and several work files. The one in particular that interested him was entitled “George Aimers.”

  “Subject George Aimers is a white male, approximately 6 feet tall, 185 pounds, dark brown hair and no facial hair, brown eye color. Build matches subject Seth Rogan, but cannot confirm match on other physical characteristics. Further investigation required.”

  It was clear to Seth that he was the subject of an investigation, but unclear what that investigation was all about. Was it to capture Seth Rogan? Eliminate him? Surely if Dave had confirmed any of his suspicions about who Seth was, he would have done that already.

  “Subject Aimers claims to be Canadian from Vancouver. Highly knowledgeable about the area. Cover identity stands up. Valid passport, but no Internet history.”

  Seth skimmed further through Dave’s reports. The latest was dated just last week, after Dave’s disastrous drunken night.

  “Attempt to obtain fingerprint data unsuccessful. Will continue to attempt confirmation that Subject Aimers is cover identity for Subject Rogan.”

  Dave certainly wasn’t making any effort to obtain Seth’s fingerprints the night they went out together. He found no clue in the 75% of Dave’s hard drive that he was able to capture as to what Dave’s orders were or what his mission was. Nowhere in Dave’s files did he identify his real name or the fact that he was an FBI agent. Next, he fired up the flash drive to examine the contents of Julia’s hard drive. There were folders with miscellaneous pictures (no porn like Dave’s), and, surprisingly, a folder on Seth Rogan and one on George Aimers. This confirmed what Seth had suspected from the discovery that Dave and Julia were either not married, swingers, or the unhappiest married couple in the world. Julia was FBI as well.

  Julia was, apparently, also a computer expert. Great, thought Seth. She’ll probably pick up the spyware right away and will know they are under surveillance themselves. She had folders on Seth Rogan, detailing all of his disclosures to the press, as well as his movements into and around Moscow. She had folders on George Aimers, which contained investigative reports on Aimers from various comprehensive Internet databases she had accessed and studied.

  In contrast to Dave’s reports, Julia was relatively certain that George Aimers and Seth Rogan were one and the same.

  “Subject Aimers has an American accent and, despite his attempt to disguise himself, matches the description of Seth Rogan.”

  Leave it to a woman to notice all of the little details that men
often ignore. Request made to execute directive. What directive? Was Seth to be assassinated? Arrested? Nothing in the materials he obtained from either computer shed any light on that ultimate question.

  46

  Wise men throughout history are quoted for the wisdom in making friends with your enemies. Accordingly, Seth was already on that path. Natasha and Seth invited Julia and Dave over for a home cooked meal and they gladly accepted. In the meantime, Yuri was using the impression key borrowed from Seth to search their apartment and plant sophisticated surveillance equipment. Of course, Seth didn’t confide in Yuri that he had already been in the apartment; only that he had made the key. Hopefully Yuri would be forthcoming if he uncovered any new information.

  Dinner was pleasant and Julia and Dave proved to be good company, enforcing the notion that your worst enemy could also be your best friend. The converse had already been proven to Seth during his teenage years.

  “We’re going to the south of France this summer,” said Julia.

  “You two should go with us,” said Dave.

  “Sounds interesting,” responded Seth.

  “Have you ever been?” asked Dave.

  “No.”

  To that Natasha looked at Seth strangely. She had heard all of Seth’s stories about the south of France and how it was one of his most favorite places, and wondered why he saw the need to lie to them.