by J. C. Fields
Through clenched teeth, the shorter man said, “My name is not Asa Gerlis.”
“Of course, it is. You just aren’t using it on a daily basis anymore.” Reid frowned. “Now sit down before you draw attention to yourself.”
After pulling out a chair across from Reid, he lowered himself and continued to glare. “I am sitting. Why are you here?”
“I like what you did to your face, I barely recognized you when you walked in. But you haven’t lost that wonderful scowl you perfected over the years.”
“If you are going to insult me, I will leave.” He started to rise, but Reid placed a photograph from his jacket pocket on the table. Staring at the photo, Gerlis sat back down. “When was this taken?”
“Do I have your attention, now?”
“Yes, yes, when was this taken?”
“Less than a month ago at Reagan National.”
Gerlis picked up the picture and studied it. “It is him. Yes?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Where is he?”
“We’re not sure, yet. But he is alive and I would venture a guess so is the woman.”
Looking over the picture, Gerlis narrowed his eyes. “You guess? You don’t know?”
Reid shook his head.
“How did they fool Israel’s Mossad? They claim they have DNA proof Wolfe and Picard are dead.”
“I know. They shared the analysis with the agency.”
The ex-Mossad agent continued to stare at the photograph, but remained quiet.
“What are you calling yourself these days, Asa?”
“My name is Diego Luis. I own a small art gallery.”
“Ah, totally legitimate. Right?”
Gerlis stared at Reid, his blue eyes narrow and threatening. “Careful, Reid. I know secrets about you, too.”
“Yes, yes. We wouldn’t need to be sitting here insulting each other if you had hired a competent marksman in Barcelona two years ago.”
Gerlis folded his hands together after placing the picture on the table. He leaned forward. “Then, you should have been the one who hired him.”
Reid ignored the comment. “What do you know about the Picard woman?”
“Not much more than what was in her file at Mossad. Why?”
“Any family?”
“Both parents are dead. They immigrated to Israel from Marseille when she was fifteen due to the rising antisemitic attitude in Southern France.”
“They could be in France. Wolfe speaks French like a native.”
“Possibly, but I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Your country is vast. There are plenty of isolated areas where Wolfe can hide. The woman will be with him. I doubt they have been apart since the botched assassination.”
Reid straightened in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“She was in love with him and he with her. Once he left Israel, she was useless.”
Reid kept his attention on the ex-Mossad agent. Finally, he gave the man a nod and sipped his wine.
Gerlis picked up the glass of wine left a few moments before by a waitress. He stared at Reid over the top. “You have still not answered my question. Why are you here?”
“I’m getting to it. I need someone more capable than the man you hired for Barcelona.”
Without commenting, Gerlis sipped his wine and then glared at Reid. “I have no resources like that anymore. I am just a simple businessman. You are a powerful man within your country’s spy den. Use one of your own.”
Shaking his head, Reid said, “Exactly why I need outside talent.”
“I cannot help you.”
“Can’t or won’t.”
“A bit of both.”
“Careful, Asa. I had footage of your so-called execution analyzed.”
A slight smile appeared on the older man’s lips. “So?”
“Whoever did the computer graphics was good. Very good. But there is a video analyst who works for me who is better. She found a slight problem.”
The smile disappeared. “There are no problems with it.”
“Sure, there are. There is a barely discernable pixel count discrepancy at the junction of the neck and shoulder of the man executed. It is invisible to the eye and to a cursory examination. But on closer inspection, it’s there.”
“Do not get cocky, Reid. I know things about you that would end your career.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. We both know secrets about each other we don’t need others knowing.” He smiled and took a sip of wine. “It gives us an understanding. That’s why it would be in both or our best interests for an independent contractor to search for Wolfe and the woman.”
“I thought you didn’t know where they are?”
“I don’t, but I might have a lead.”
“Care to share?”
“Not at this moment.”
Gerlis tilted his head. “Who will pay for this individual? They do not come cheap.”
“Don’t worry about funding—just let me know how much and where to transfer it.”
With a nod, Gerlis stood. “Same method as before?”
“Yes. Text me the new password and I’ll open up the Gmail account.”
Reid sipped his wine as he watched Asa Gerlis exit the small café.
Joseph Kincaid read the report and frowned. He rose from his desk in the West Wing and walked into his deputy’s office.
Jerry Griggs looked up from his computer screen. “What’s up, boss?”
The National Security Advisor leaned against the doorframe. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
The younger man smiled. A veteran of the CIA, he and Joseph had worked together several times over the years and had developed a mutual respect. Tall, slender and prematurely bald, Jerry’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. Joseph valued him for his tactical and strategic thinking. He also enjoyed the man’s dry humor.
“Sorry, boss. What’s ya need?”
Closing his eyes and with a slight shake of his head, Joseph said. “Why is Gerald Reid in Paris?”
Griggs shrugged. “No clue. He didn’t ask my permission, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
Barely hiding his smile, Joseph shook his head again, this time with emphasis. “No, he didn’t ask mine either. Find out why he’s there and while you are at it, check into why he disappeared for thirteen hours yesterday.”
Raising his eyebrows, Griggs did not take his eyes off Joseph. “Disappeared?”
Joseph nodded.
“Like, he’s there one second, then poof, he’s gone? Or just wasn’t seen for thirteen hours?”
“He was observed leaving in a cab before dawn. He wasn’t seen the rest of the day by anyone until a reception that evening.”
“Huh…” He stared at his computer screen for over a dozen seconds. “Let me do some checking. I know the Station Chief in Paris.”
Joseph nodded and returned to his office.
After driving the twenty-seven kilometers to the airport in Seville, Gerlis, using his Diego Luis passport, boarded a non-stop flight for the hour-long trip to Madrid where he kept an apartment. The following day, he traveled via car to the city of Zaragoza, the capital of the Aragon region of Spain.
By noon he sat in a sidewalk café with a pot of strong tea. waiting for the individual he would be meeting. His wait lasted only several minutes.
The younger man appeared suddenly and sat across from Gerlis. “Why did you want to meet?”
“I need you to finish the job you started two years ago in Barcelona.”
“I see. I thought they were killed in Mexico.”
Gerlis shook his head as he poured tea for his guest. “I learned otherwise yesterday.”
The other man raised his eyebrows as he sipped the strong tea. “And what did you learn, Asa?”
With a grimace at the use of his name, Gerlis replied, “Your targets are still alive.”
Silence was his response. The sniper stared at Ger
lis for more than a quarter of a minute before putting down his glass and folding his hands in front of him. “I see. So, the information the Israelis’ are spewing is nothing more than lies?”
“No. They believe Wolfe and Picard to be dead. How they were deceived is unknown. The Americans have a picture of Wolfe taken at an airport recently. Until the picture was found, the Americans believed them dead, also.”
“Did you see this picture?”
Gerlis nodded and sipped his tea.
“Was it Wolfe?”
Again, the older man nodded.
“Hmmm…”
“Their location is unknown at this time. The Americans believe they are in France.”
“But you do not.”
“No.”
“Where do you believe them to be?”
“Somewhere in the western United States. There are vast amounts of undeveloped land where a man as resourceful as Michael Wolfe can hide.”
“My dear Asa. I will not be traveling to the United States to look around this vast amount of undeveloped land you mentioned.”
Gerlis shook his head. “Not what I have in mind.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I plan to have the Americans find him and then you can finish your assignment.”
After a thoughtful sip of tea, the younger man stared hard at the man across from him. “If I have to go to the United States, my price just went up.”
“To be expected. The American CIA will pay for your troubles.”
A frown appeared on the sniper’s face as he leaned forward. “I have no desire to work for the American CIA.”
Gerlis leaned back and raised both palms. “Not what I meant. They are willing to pay me whatever it takes to have this accomplished. You will merely be the instrument for finishing the job.”
After another sip of tea, the sniper asked, “When will you know his location?”
“Soon, my friend. Soon.”
Chapter 21
Howell County, MO
W ith the temperature hovering in the mid-thirties and a steady wind out of the northwest, it felt like a typical late fall day in Southern Missouri. Wispy clouds raced across the sky as a cold front moved in from across the upper plains. A blanket of leaves littered the ground, having abandoned their hosts several weeks prior. Without foliage, the densely-treed land provided little shade from the sun as it warmed the two hikers trudging alongside the small creek next to Wolfe’s property.
Hiking boots, insulated pants and multiple layers kept them comfortable as they searched for caves.
“If I remember correctly, there’s one not far from here.”
“You said that thirty minutes ago, Michael.”
“I know, but…” He paused as he spotted a dark slit in the landscape twenty yards up the rise to his right. He pointed. “There’s one.” He climbed the hill until he came to the horizontal opening in the side of the land. Nadia followed, holding the shotgun she carried pointed at the ground. Unclipping the Maglite from his belt, he bent down and pointed the light beam into the crevasse. “This one’s not very tall and I don’t see evidence of someone crawling in and out.”
Nadia glanced at a hiker’s GPS unit she carried. “Do you want me to mark this location?”
“Yes, let’s keep track of every one we find today.”
They continued their search.
With the sun at its zenith, the two hikers had located only four caves. None of these appeared capable of providing an opportunity for Martin to construct a place to hide. They stopped for a few minutes and sat on a fallen log to nibble on energy bars and drink water.
Wolfe asked, “Where are we in relationship to the house?”
She consulted the GPS unit and pointed. “House is about three miles north. The cabin is also north. We aren’t on your property anymore.”
He smiled but chose not to tell her she had just used a contraction. “This is state land. If we don’t find anything in the next hour, we’ll head back to the house and rethink our search.”
She nodded. “Good. It is starting to get a little chilly.”
Wolfe watched the sky as cumulus clouds played hide and seek with the sun. “Clouds are thickening, which means the temperature will start dropping soon. Want to head back now?”
She shook her head. “Not if you don’t.”
He stood. “Not yet. The stream is getting wider and I’ve never followed it this far south before. To be honest, I don’t know what’s around here.”
They found the cave ten minutes later.
The vertical entrance stood a shade over five feet tall with a three-foot-wide opening at the base. Toward the top, it narrowed to a little over fourteen inches. Wolfe pointed to the ground in front of the cave. “Note the crushed leaves.”
Nadia nodded. She held the shotgun with both hands, aimed at the ground.
He unclipped the Maglite and pointed it inside the opening. “It must go back a way. I can’t see a back wall.” Turning to look at her, he unholstered his H&K HP40 handgun. “I’m going to look around inside. Make sure no one surprises me.”
She nodded.
Ducking to avoid hitting his head, Wolfe straightened once he entered the cavern. Holding the Maglite in his left hand, away from his body, he kept the H&K at ready. The initial room he entered sloped downward at a ten-degree angle for ten feet before opening into a larger cavity. He stood still as he swept the light around the expansive space. The light fell across two sleeping bags, a Coleman lantern, a small propane cook stove and a large Yeti cooler.
Keeping the light away from his body, Wolfe yelled, “Martin, it’s Michael. We need to talk.” He waited for a response. When none came, he repeated the announcement. The only sounds he heard were his voice echoing within the cavern and the trickle of running water. As he swept the flashlight around the room, he saw a dark opening on his right. After moving toward the gap, he trained the Maglite at the floor. The path tilted steeply downward and he could see water flowing over the rocky ground, but the light could not penetrate the gloom ahead.
He retraced his steps and bent to look at the floor. It was smooth—not a natural state for a small Missouri cave. Someone had been working inside the cavern to make it more habitable. As he stood, he heard Nadia say in a quiet voice, “Someone is approaching from the south, Michael.”
He hurried to the cave entrance. She had stepped inside to keep from being seen. He smiled at her. “Let’s greet them.”
Wolfe emerged from the cave entrance, his H&K still in his right hand. Nadia followed with the shotgun at ready.
Martin Benson and Jana Meyer looked up from navigating the leaf-covered ground to stare at Wolfe and Nadia just outside the cave opening.
The ex-sniper spoke first. “Hello, Martin. Want to tell us what’s going on here?”
“When did you figure it out?”
A Coleman lantern illuminated the front cavern, casting an eerie glow on each of their faces. Nadia still held the shotgun in both hands, but not in a threatening manner. Wolfe, having holstered his H&K and crossed his arms said. “For the moment, I’ll ask the questions. Did you kill Bobby?”
Martin remained quiet while Jana frowned. She started to say something, but Martin stopped her with a hand on her arm.
Wolfe glanced at Nadia, who raised the shotgun slightly.
Martin smiled at Jana. “It’s okay, I’ll answer.” He turned his attention to Wolfe. “He was looking for you.”
“I know.”
“You know? I don’t understand.”
“We’ve been to Albany and FCI Edgefield.”
“Ah…” Benson took a deep breath. “Is Kevin still an asshole?”
Wolfe did not respond.
“I guess I need to explain.”
“That would be nice.”
“It started the month you two were gone. I was spending more time at Jana’s than at the cabin. My half-brother Robert contacted me at the lumberyard. I didn’t want him to know where Jana
lived until I knew why he was in West Plains. So—I told her I was meeting someone and would call her later. One of my buddies from work dropped me off at JT’s Steak House. When I sat down across from him, he was already drunk. I don’t know how long he had been there or how many beers he had. That’s when the argument started.”
“About what?”
“He’s always blamed me for screwing up his family. This argument was no different than any of the others. It covered the same old tired ground.”
“Did he explain how he got out of prison fifteen years early?”
Benson shook his head. “No, I asked him. He never told me. When he wasn’t telling me how I screwed up the family, he was demanding to know where you were.”
“Why?”
“All he would say is finding you would get him a pardon.”
“Did you tell him where you lived when you visited him in prison two years ago?”
Benson stared at Michael for ten seconds. His eyes narrowed. “How did you find out about my visit to the prison?”
“Warden at FCI Edgefield. Go on with your story.”
Taking a deep breath, Martin tilted his head. “You know more than you’re letting on, don’t you?”
Wolfe narrowed his eyes as his glare intensified. “Yes, so make sure you remember that.”
The man stiffened and stared at Wolfe for several moments. Finally, he relaxed, gave Wolfe a half smile and nodded.
“Go on with the story, Martin.”
“At one time, Bobby and I were close. We had to be—Kevin was gone, his mother was crazy and we only had each other to rely on. When we graduated from high school, he told me one night he wanted to make it on his own, so he joined the Marines. I felt lost. Since he didn’t want me around anymore, I also joined the military, only a different branch. My visit two years ago was a futile effort to reconnect with him.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’ve been using his name?”
Benson nodded and stared at the floor while he held Jana’s hand. “I’m getting to that. Our visit was going okay until I mentioned you.”
“Why did you talk about me?”