Covert Network (A Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series Book 14)

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Covert Network (A Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series Book 14) Page 8

by Trevor Scott


  “I’m sorry, sir.” He tried to pull away, but Jake held him for a beat so he knew he wasn’t kidding. Then he let the man scurry back to the bar.

  “I think you just about made the man piss his pants,” the Agency officer said.

  Jake sniffed the rum and slid it across the table to his young associate. “Give this a try. Even on ice it’s better than that piss water you’re drinking.”

  The Agency officer lifted the drink and took a sip. Then he shrugged. “Not bad.”

  “The stuff from Central America is much better. Nicaragua, Guatemala and Panama make the best aged rum. If someone tries to give me spiced rum I will lose my shit.”

  “Back to this case,” the officer said.

  Jake raised a finger as the actual bartender came around with the Dominican rum and a fresh glass. He apologized for his young waiter and poured Jake a healthy glass of the aged rum. Jake thanked the guy and paid for the drinks. Then he took a sip and let the dark rum linger on his tongue as the alcohol gave way to the oak cask that had housed it for over a decade.

  “Okay,” Jake said. “Now we can talk about this dirtbag lobbyist from Uruguay.”

  “May I speak bluntly.”

  “I prefer it, even if what you say is wrong.”

  “Fine. This man is an asset.”

  “The man is potentially trafficking in young girls. Kidnapping them from all over South America and forcing them into sexual acts that would make your average porn star blush.”

  “Be that as it may, he is still our asset. We need him for a much more important operation.”

  “Something more important than exploiting young girls?”

  “I’m not making that judgment,” the Agency officer said. “That’s above my paygrade.”

  “You see, sonny. That’s the problem with the Agency. I’m guessing that most of the guards at Nazi concentration camps had the same attitude. Dude, that’s above my paygrade. Hitler and Goebbels must know what they’re doing.”

  “That isn’t fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair, kid. I’ll give you the guy when I’m done with him.”

  “I was told to tell you to let him go.”

  “I know. You’ve done your job.” Jake pulled out his phone and said, “If you’d like, I’ll give John Bradford a call and clear it with him.”

  The man cringed when he heard the name of the current CIA Director. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Jake put his phone away. “Listen. I’ve been in this game a long time. The Agency has had a less than stellar track record with some of their dealings with questionable folks. I understand working agents and using leverage to control them. All I plan on doing is getting a little more information for me and at the same time I can provide more leverage for you and the Agency.” Okay, he was laying it on a little thick for the young officer. But, hey, Jake didn’t need this crap anymore. He could just retire and find a nice place to hide. Like Iceland. Or someplace warmer.

  “Agreed,” the young officer said, reaching his hand out to shake.

  “Put your hand down. Christ, this is just a drink with friends. Not a business meeting.”

  The officer nodded with a nervous smile and picked up the drink Jake had given him, drinking down the whole thing.

  Jake’s phone suddenly buzzed and he pulled it out to check out the text. It was from Sirena and said, ‘Get back here.’ He put the phone back in his pocket and grabbed his drink, taking down the last of the rum faster than he liked to drink it.

  “Gotta go,” Jake said getting up.

  “Wait,” he said, standing with Jake. “You forgot to tell me about those men who confronted you outside the safe house.”

  “A couple of local cops,” Jake said without concern. “I handled it.”

  “I saw. But why did they attack you?”

  That was a good question. “I think it was a mistaken identity.”

  “Right.” He hesitated, as if he didn’t want Jake to leave. “You’ll let our guy go, then?”

  “I told you I would. Don’t worry. He won’t know that we know he’s working with you.”

  Reluctantly, Jake moved in and gave the guy a perfunctory man hug, and then he left him there with his stale beer.

  He walked down the avenue watching all of the people strolling down the main street in Buenos Aires. When he got to the car, he started the engine, pulled out his phone, and paired it to Antonia’s Bluetooth system. As he did so, he kept his eyes on the rearview mirror.

  Then he called Sirena and pulled out onto the side street leading to Avenue 9th of July, heading to the west past the obelisk.

  Sirena picked up. “Are you on the way?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced up into the mirror again. “But I’ve got a tail.”

  “Not the cops.”

  “I don’t think so. I was careful on my way to the meeting.” He powered up the engine and hit the next light just as it turned red. The car behind him hesitated and then ran the red.

  “We got what we needed from this guy,” Sirena said.

  “Everything?”

  “Everything he knows.”

  Jake wasn’t about to question Sirena. She was damn good. If she said she had gotten everything the guy knew, he was sure she had done so. “How hard did you have to go at him?”

  “Not hard at all. Turns out the guy is a major pervert. Guess we should have known that. He wanted to see our tits. Instead, I showed him my fists in his mouth.”

  “Ouch. I hope you used gloves.”

  “Roger that. But we didn’t leave much DNA behind. The guy was a pussycat after setting his attitude right. Playing the part about being his superiors worked perfect. I was able to find a lead in Uruguay.”

  “Save that for when I get there,” he said. “Is Antonia there with you?”

  “I’ll put her on speaker,” Sirena said. She hesitated and then added, “Okay, we’re on.”

  Jake ran through the gears and powered through more street lights, but his tail was still less than a block back, despite having to weave through slower cars.

  “Antonia,” Jake said.

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “How much do you like this car?”

  “Is that the engine I hear?” Antonia asked.

  Jake cut a sharp right and downshifted, hitting the gas hard and squealing the tires. “Afraid so. I’m trying to lose my tail.”

  Sirena broke in. “It isn’t those two cops again.”

  “No. I think our friends in the Agency want to find their asset, and they hope I’ll lead them to him.”

  “Why not just turn the guy over?” Sirena asked.

  “I could,” Jake said. “But I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s them. Could be the guy’s friends.”

  Jamming the stick into fourth, the car lurched to an unreasonable speed for this road.

  “Please don’t crash my car,” Antonia pled.

  “If I do, I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “Okay. In that case, do as you wish.”

  Jake turned left just in front of a long line of cars. He checked his mirror and saw that the tail couldn’t make it through, so Jake turned right, left, and another right, before parking between two vehicles and shutting down the engine. Then he waited.

  Having turned off the engine, Jake’s phone went back to normal mode. He heard the women yelling, so he picked up the phone and listened.

  “Are you all right, Jake,” Sirena said.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I lost them. Give me a little time, though. I’ll hold tight for a few minutes before heading in your direction.”

  “All right. We’ll get the guy ready to transport.”

  Jake hung up and put the phone in his pocket. Then he wondered why the Agency folks were being little bitches. He’d find out soon enough.

  14

  Jake picked up Sirena, Antonia and the blindfolded douche bag just before midnight. Then he dropped off the guy on some random street and told him to keep his damn mouth shut.
Jake would have preferred to turn the guy over to INTERPOL, but he figured they would only let him go anyway—considering his diplomatic immunity. Based on what the women had discovered, Jake was more likely to cap his ass and drop him in that Puerto Madero canal. Besides, the way that Sirena and Antonia had interrogated the guy, he had to know that they were not with any law enforcement agency, and were only looking into the integrity of their organization. Jake and Sirena’s task was to find out the true nature of that group.

  Next, Jake drove to a hotel a block from Avenue 9th of July. It was a place where he had stayed in his past on his way to fishing in Patagonia.

  He got out and handed the keys to Antonia. “I hope I didn’t tear it up too much.”

  Antonia smiled. “I’m sure my baby is fine. Before I go, I promised to show you something.” She glanced around and turned, facing Sirena, and lifted her shirt for Jake to see her current ink job. It was beautiful.

  “Very nice,” Jake said. “But it looks painful.”

  She lowered her shirt and said, “A little. But that’s why they do it in stages and not all at once.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Uruguay with us?” he asked her.

  “I would love to,” she said. “But my boss has other plans for me.”

  Jake nodded and then gave her a hug, making sure not to squeeze down on her fresh tattoo. Sirena also hugged Antonia. Then Jake and Sirena watched as she drove off.

  “Tell me you have the laptop and the jump drive in your bag,” Jake said.

  “Of course. Her agency wants no part of this. Just so you know, her breasts looked fantastic.” She smiled and tapped Jake on the shoulder.

  They checked into the hotel as a couple, getting one room with two beds. A couple with issues, Jake guessed.

  It was a modest room, but with a nice view of the avenue below. Jake rummaged through his bag and pulled out a bottle of rum.

  “Where did you get that?” she asked.

  “Acquired it from the bar on the jet,” he said. “They keep the twenty-five-year-old Flor de Cana onboard just for me. I guess they’ll have to restock. You want some?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Jake poured two glasses of rum and he savored the first taste, remembering just how good this stuff was, and how such a screwed-up country could produce such a fine rum.

  She sipped it and said, “This is so smooth. How much for a bottle?”

  “Between a hundred and thirty and two hundred a bottle,” he said. “But before you complain, remember that it’s been sweating its balls off in a Nicaraguan jungle for the past twenty-five years.”

  “When you put it that way.” She sipped again.

  Jake sat in a chair by a desk. “Give me your opinion of the guy you interrogated.”

  She took a seat on the edge of one bed. “He was a creepy dude without a redeeming quality.”

  “Considering his condition, you seemed to control yourself. I’m not sure I could have done so.”

  “Why do you think I took the lead?” She went to her bag and found her friend’s laptop, setting it on the desk. Then she kicked Jake out of his chair and opened the computer.

  “I thought there was nothing there,” Jake said, pulling a small lounge chair closer to the desk so he could see what she was doing and had a place to set his glass.

  She smiled and turned to him. “I lied.”

  “You have a bit of the devil in you,” Jake said with his best Irish brogue.

  “You have a lot of the rum in you,” she said. “Someone told me about your past.”

  He sipped his rum. His past was just that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She got onto the laptop and clicked into a hidden file that was encrypted. “Yeah, you do. Remember that I’m friends with Kurt and Chad Hunter.”

  “Chad doesn’t know shit.”

  “And Kurt.”

  Yeah, Kurt knew where many of the bodies were buried. “I’ve had a rough couple of months,” Jake said.

  “I understand. I’m just concerned about you.”

  “That’s because you’re a good friend, Sirena.”

  “You would tell me if you plan to. . .”

  “Take care of myself?”

  She shrugged.

  “I have a young daughter,” he said. “And a son.”

  “I know. But sometimes that’s not enough for people.”

  Jake shook his head. “I have enough people trying to take potshots at me. I don’t need to add myself to the mix.” Although he couldn’t lie to himself. The thought had crossed his mind a number of times on the frozen landscape of Iceland.

  “Both men and women have basic needs,” she said. “If you ever find yourself wanting a human touch without attachment, just ask.”

  He smiled at her. “You mean like I found in Iceland?”

  “Perhaps. I was a little jealous that you didn’t come to me.”

  “In honesty, I didn’t know where you were. And I also didn’t know that you would be into something like that.”

  “Physical needs should be met,” she said. Sirena turned now and considered Jake’s response.

  “I haven’t had a good track record when it comes to sleeping with my colleagues,” he said.

  She turned back to the laptop. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  How could he say no to that kind of offer? But he decided to do just that. For now. “Let’s concentrate on drinking some damn good rum and figuring out what your friend Maria had found out.”

  Sirena clicked and hit enter. “Let’s find out.”

  The folder she opened included mostly simple text files and digital documents from newspapers and other online news sources. Maria had done a lot of research in such a short period of time. Her investigation had vectored away from simply trying to find the two Spanish college students. Sirena opened a text file with notes written by Maria herself.

  Jake read over Sirena’s shoulder. “Wow. She got pretty far into this case.”

  Sirena turned her head, putting their faces within inches of each other. “I told you. She’s very good.”

  He backed up to a more reasonable distance. “It sure looks that way.” He drank the last of his rum. “I think I need one more before hitting the sack. You want one?”

  “Sure. Then we need to get to bed. We have an early boat to Uruguay. Are you sure you don’t want to take the jet?”

  “Yeah. It’s a fast ferry. Two hours.” He poured them each another healthy cup of rum. He put his glass up to toast. “Prosit.”

  “Cheers,” she said, touching glasses with him.

  They had found only confirmation of what they already knew about this case—that there was more than just a couple of young girls involved. How this had anything to do with the death of the Dane and the Oregon senator was still uncertain.

  Finishing their drinks, they prepped for bed. While Sirena was in the bathroom, Jake lay under the covers on his bed, pulled out his phone, and opened an encrypted folder with a bunch of photos. He flipped through images of his daughter, Emma, and tried to consider how he would feel if someone had kidnapped her and exploited her like these young girls. He guessed he would go all full Jake Adams on their asses. So, that’s what he would do. He clicked off his phone and set it on the nightstand.

  The room was dark now, but his eyes quickly adjusted enough to see a little around the room. The noises from the street outside would normally not bother Jake. But he had spent the last couple of months in the Iceland countryside with only the sounds of sheep and horses.

  The bathroom door opened, the lights already out in there also. Sirena stepped out completely naked and walked to her bed, crawling under the covers.

  Now that was not playing fair, Jake thought.

  “Are you still awake, Jake?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I set an alarm on my phone.”

  She grumbled. “Are you sure you can’t help out a friend?”

  “You’re sleeping naked,” Jak
e said.

  “You saw that?”

  “Afraid so. Does that bother you?”

  “Only if you didn’t like what you saw.”

  “You know that’s not possible.”

  “Then get your ass over here and take care of business, Jake.”

  He found himself extremely hard to resist. What the hell. He rushed over and got under her sheets. They didn’t kiss. Didn’t embrace. Nothing too intimate. They simply took advantage of the situation in a couple of different positions. When they were done, Jake went back to his bed and passed out.

  •

  Sirena lay in bed listening to Jake breath. He had gone from screwing her with extreme prejudice to sleeping within just a few minutes. Part of her felt guilty for taking advantage of the situation. But they were both grown adults. They were professionals. They could handle the beneficial aspects of their friendship. Why not?

  But she was still concerned about Jake. He wasn’t himself. He was always intense and focused. But now his mind seemed to be wandering. He was far more introspective. She guessed that losing his girlfriend in such a dramatic fashion had impacted him greatly. Kurt Jenkins had been right. Kurt knew Jake better than anyone alive. If he was concerned, then she should be as well.

  Jake’s breathing blended with the sounds from the street outside. She thought about what had just happened, and she couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Not a damn thing. She was more satisfied with their actions than she had ever been in her life. Maybe that was a problem.

  15

  Jake felt like crap in the morning, and it had nothing to do with all the rum he consumed the night before. Besides, it had not been that much rum. No, he had crossed the line by crossing from his bed to Sirena’s bed. He wasn’t disturbed that it happened. That had been a pleasant surprise. Jake was concerned how it might change their relationship going forward.

  He and Sirena had skipped breakfast and took a taxi to the ferry terminal, catching the first fast ferry to Montevideo, Uruguay.

  They had gotten coffee and a scant breakfast on the ferry and sat now at an upper level watching the sun rise on the water.

 

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