by Bryan Murray
When they finally walked to the gate, Jake was the first to speak. “Thanks a lot, Joseph. Believe me, everything we’d heard about the Mossad was true. We really pulled it off down in Jerusalem and to think the whole world hadn’t a clue about the catastrophic consequences we averted, speaks volumes for your team’s efficiency!”
Joseph shook hands with Jake and gave Sarah a hug. “It was a pleasure, guys and the next time we need specialist help, you can be sure the first number we call will be yours. Have a safe trip, goodbye!”
They both nodded and replied in chorus. “Bye!” as they headed down the airway.
CHAPTER 45
When Jake and Sarah arrived back in Washington DC. after saying their farewells to Sarah’s family and a grateful Mossad, not to mention pocketing a sizeable check for their services, it took a while to sort out their business backlog, since they had been gone much longer than they had anticipated.
Jake was going through the mail, flipping through bills, requests for quotation, incoming checks for services rendered and amongst all the mail he suddenly picked up a strange-looking envelope. It was addressed to his P.O.Box from a P.O. Box number he didn’t recognize. It took a second for him to realize what he was looking at before he tore open the envelope feverishly, memories from the past coming flooding back.
As he suspected, it was from Bob Mercer, Janis’s husband. He read the note inside, his heart pounding in his chest as he read each line. It read as follows:-
Jake,
‘You were right! When I got back to the house, I found an audio transmitter in the hem of the coat that Janis was wearing that night she came to see you and when I checked her car, behind closed doors in the garage, I found a GPS device inside the rear wheel arch.’
The hairs were already standing out on the back of Jake’s neck as he continued to read:-
‘Then, at Janis’s funeral, there were three guys I hadn’t seen before, looked like ‘G’ men to me and the following week, I had two close calls. Both were on routine call-ins in my precinct. They appeared to be just domestic disturbances, but when my partner and I arrived, there was concealed rifle fire aimed at us that we were lucky to avoid.
I’m scared, Jake and if anything happens to me before we get to communicate, the key enclosed is for the P.O. Box number on the address above and you will find it in the suburban post office on Jefferson Highway near Melrose. It contains a photograph of a man and a license number of a car, that I’m convinced has been following me. I took the photo of the guy reflected in my wing mirror. The reason I’m sure that something is wrong, is that the guy in the picture was one of the three men at Janis’s funeral!
I hope to see you soon.
Bob.
Jake removed the key from the envelope and put it in his pocket. He put down the letter and let out a sad sigh. “My God!” he whispered. He turned up the volume on the radio so that anyone eavesdropping would not be able to hear.
Sarah looked across at him, a concerned look on her face. “What is it, Jake?” He simply handed her the letter to read. “It’s from Bob, Janis’s husband. Read it.”
She quickly read it and her expression changed. “Poor guy! What can we do, Jake?”
He was thinking out loud. “They must have been monitoring Janis when she came to see me, so now we have to play it smart!”
She looked at him. “Like how?”
He continued to think out loud. “We only got off a plane last night from Israel and this letter was dated 10 days ago!”
Sarah was on the same wavelength. “So, we don’t even know if the guy’s still alive?”
Jake nodded. “Exactly, and if we assume that the agency don’t know about this letter, they may not be seriously monitoring us.....yet!”
She was pensive. “But if we try and contact this guy, it will set all kinds of alarm bells ringing!”
He nodded. “That’s true, we can’t just walk into the precinct and ask if Officer Mercer is available. I have this bad feeling, it happens every time the hairs stand out on the back of my neck!”
She looked at him. “What do you suggest we do?”
He thought for a moment. “Maybe we can go in via the back door. Find out if he has any family nearby and plan an impromptu, unmonitored connection?”
Sarah nodded. “Okay, let me do some digging.”
By the time Jake had processed all his other mail, Sarah returned from her office. She signalled him to follow her outside as he turned off the radio. Out on the driveway, he looked at her inquisitively. “Find anything?”
She nodded affirmatively. “Seems he has a sister who lives south of the city. She’s single and her address is Seventeen Wilshire Crescent.”
Jake wrote it down. “Might be worth a visit, what’s her name?”
Sarah looked at the scrap of paper. “Millie!”
Jake nodded. “Maybe I’ll take a drive over this afternoon.”
She smiled. “Want me to come with you?”
He gave a wry smile. “Why not, it seems like no matter what we do, we keep bumping into the same bad guys!”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Jake and Sarah were parked down the street from Seventeen Wilshire Crescent in the suburbs, watching the front of the small detached house up the street. After about an hour of waiting, Sarah nudged Jake when the door opened and a chubby, middle-aged woman came out, got in a small Ford and drove off down the street.
Jake gunned the engine and followed in discreet pursuit. They rolled along for about five blocks, until the Ford pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. The woman got out, grabbed a spare trolley from the parking lot and wheeled it inside.
Jake turned to Sarah. “Keep the engine running, I’ll be right back.”
She nodded in agreement as he got out and walked across the parking lot, grabbing a trolley before heading into the store.
Inside the store, Jake could see the woman heading towards the vegetable section. He sauntered after her, pushing his trolley, stuffing it with produce to make it look like he was a real shopper. He followed the woman, until she headed down a quiet aisle and stopped, checking the merchandise.
He sidled up to the woman and suddenly feigned surprise. He started a conversation. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Bob Mercer’s sister?” he asked, a smile on his face.
The Woman had a surprised look on her face as she answered. “Yes, do I know you?”
He quickly bluffed it off. “As a matter of fact, I’m an old friend of his. I used to work in the precinct and I could have sworn he showed me a picture of the two of you?” he was fishing and hoping to get a bite.
The Woman replied. “Yes, he was quite the photographer.”
Jake then asked the key question. “How’s he doin’, haven’t seen him in a while?”
Millie’s face suddenly clouded over. “I’m so sorry, Mr.....?” she paused.
“It’s James, James Winston!” he added as she continued, an even sadder look in her eye. “I’m sorry to tell you, James, but Bob is dead!”
The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck were up to their old tricks again. He acted as if he were in total shock, which wasn’t hard. “Oh, my God! What the heck happened?”
Millie explained. “I guess bein’ a cop is a dangerous business. Apparently, he and his partner were called out to try and stop a potential drug deal going down, but when they got there, guys with automatic weapons started shootin’ at Bob and Cliff, his partner!”
Jake was still quietly coaxing. “And did they....?”
Her voice trailed away as she nodded in confirmation. “Yes, both Bob and his partner were killed. They were both buried with honors, late last week.”
Jake was deeply saddened. “I’m so sorry to hear that and you have my sincerest condolences, ah...?”
She replied. “It’s Millie!”
Jake continued. “He was a fine man, Millie and a good cop!”
Millie was now in tears of remembrance. “And if that wasn’t bad
enough, his poor wife died from a heart attack, just a couple of weeks earlier! And Cliff, his partner, left a wife and two young children!”
Jake showed even more shock. “My God! Those poor people! Hang in there Millie. May God protect you and yours.”
She nodded. “Thanks, James.”
He walked away towards the check-out and she continued shopping, drying a tear from her eye.
Out in the parking lot, Sarah was waiting for Jake to return and she could tell from his face that something was terribly wrong. She looked at him inquisitively when he sat down next to her in the car and shook his head. “He’s dead!” he sighed. “And those bastards took out his partner as well, to cover their tracks!”
She was in shock. “Are you serious?”
He nodded sadly. “I’m afraid so.”
She thought for a moment. “So, what do we do now?”
Jake’s mind was made up. “We need to check out that P.O. Box!”
She nodded in agreement. “I guess so.”
He gunned the engine and they drove off into the late afternoon sun.
* * *
Later that night, Jake and Sarah drove into the deserted parking lot of the suburban post office. Jake got out casually and went into the building. The post office was closed, but the area where the P.O. boxes were located, was still accessible. He sauntered along, checking the numbers until he reached Box 49. He gave a start when the door opened behind him, but it was just a man who went to his box, opened it, emptied the contents, slammed it shut and left.
Jake quickly opened Box 49, reached inside and took out a brown envelope. He quickly locked the box and left. He got back into the car quickly and turned to Sarah. “Drive, let’s get away from here!”
She drove quickly out and onto the main road and they disappeared into the night. Inside the car, Jake switched on the dash light, tore open the envelope and let the contents fall into his hand. It was two photographs. One was the picture of a black SUV with the license plate showing clearly. However, it was the other photograph that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. It was a photo of a man, a man that Jake instantly recognized. He would recognize that look in the man’s eyes anywhere. It was Zoltan ‘Mad Dog’ Koslov - one of the black-ops assassins with the agency. When would it all end! Sarah took one look at Jake’s face and she knew.
CHAPTER 46
Inside Mulligan’s Bar in the suburbs of Washington DC, for Zoltan Koslov, stockily-built with dark hair and a shaggy beard, affectionately referred to by his friends in the agency as ‘Mad Dog’, due to his crazy, intense eyes, the evening had started off very slowly. He was on his fourth Jack and Seven and the severe absence of sleazy women in search of energetic and satisfying sex, wasn’t exactly sitting well with Mad Dog.
He swallowed the remains of his drink, threw a couple of dollars on the bar and decided to cruise down to ‘Cougars’, a bar down the road, to see if he could get lucky. He was horny and his primal urges were in severe need of satisfaction.
He left the bar alone and headed to his SUV, parked in the dimly-lit alley alongside the bar. He unlocked the door, climbed in and was about to turn the key in the ignition, when he suddenly felt the cold steel of a Glock against the base of his skull and he heard a familiar voice behind him. “One move, one fuckin’ unexpected heartbeat and your brain is mush!”
Mad Dog looked in his rear view mirror to see Jake behind him, holding the gun.
The Pole tried to sound casual. “Jake! What the fuck’s goin’ on, old son?”
Jake’s face was inscrutable. “You’re gonna die, Mad dog!” was his reply.
Mad Dog was suddenly starting to sweat, having seen that look in Jake’s eyes before. “What for, for Christ’s sake?” he gasped.
Jake took his time in replying. “Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you hazard a guess?”
Mad Dog was getting very nervous. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Is it something I did?”
Jake smiled. “Now you’re getting’ warm. Let’s talk about the innocent lady Janis Mercer, a retired secretary and her innocent cop husband, together with his innocent partner, with a wife and two kids?”
Jake was waiting for confirmation and when Mad Dog didn’t deny it, he knew he had guessed right.
“Hey, Jake, you know the score,” Mad Dog replied. “You get a name, you do the job, what more can I say?”
Jake’s face was venomous as he answered. “Not a fuckin’ thing!” In a flash, the syringe appeared in the hand not holding his gun as Jake quickly jabbed it into Mad Dogs neck under the cover of his beard.
The Polish assassin looked at him momentarily with knowing, shocked eyes, before the deadly toxin kicked in and he breathed his last breath, slumped forward on the wheel. In minutes the toxin would be undetectable, making it look like the assassin had had a heart attack. Another little nasty product of the black-ops arsenal.
Jake mused cynically that when you live by the sword you die by the sword. He quickly removed the syringe, put it in his glass case, put the gun away and reached in his inside pocket. He took out an envelope and placed it in Mad Dog’s pocket before getting out of the car, quickly locking the door and disappearing into the night.
Four blocks down the street, Jake stopped at a pay phone, and dialled a number. The Desk Sergeant at the precinct where Bob used to work, answered the phone. “Fifth Precinct, can I help you?”
Jake covered the phone with his handkerchief and spoke in a high pitched voice. “The police need to check out the car in the alley behind Mulligan’s Bar. I think there’s a dead body in it!” he put the phone down quickly, wiped off the instrument, left the phone booth and walked to his car.
Within minutes, a police cruiser from Bob Mercer’s precinct arrived in the alley behind Mulligan’s. Officer Mayhew, an African/American and his partner Officer Jamieson, an older, white cop, checked out the car, saw the body inside, checked the door and used a tool to open it.
Mayhew quickly checked Mad Dog for a pulse and turned to his partner. “We got us a John Doe, call the meat wagon!”
His partner nodded. “Will do.” Jamieson walked back to the cruiser and Mayhew checked Mad Dog’s pockets for ID. He found the unsealed envelope and opened it, taking out the note inside. He read what was on it by the light of his flashlight. His face suddenly changed to one of shock. “Sweet Jesus!” he gasped. Typed on the page, (from a computer and printer at the library that Jake had used), was the simple message:-
‘This is Zoltan Koslov, a CIA black-ops assassin, who is responsible for the murders of Janis Mercer, her husband Officer Bob Mercer and his partner. Find his superiors, they are the ones who ordered the kills.
Signed
A Well-Wisher
Mayhew was immediately on the phone to his Police Chief asking for instructions, after which he showed the note to his partner.
With Sarah out of town visiting her parents, who had also just returned from Israel, Jake felt that he had used the evening to good effect on his personal crusade against the agency’s unbridled activities, as he finally arrived back at his apartment. He was totally exhausted as he poured himself a stiff Scotch that he drank before hitting the sack. That night, for the first time in weeks, Jake slept like a baby.
Had he known the evil forces at work, involving people that he didn’t even know, he would probably not have slept so peacefully.
* * *
After a sound night’s sleep, Jake showered and ate a healthy breakfast, before heading to the office to meet with Sarah.
Walking to his car on the driveway, he didn’t notice the car across the street, or the occupant who was taking pictures of Jake through the massive zoom lens on his camera, as it clicked rapidly taking multiple pictures of Jake’s face, front on.
Jake climbed in his car and drove off and the private investigator in the car across the street drove off in the opposite direction. The PI was smiling after just making himself five grand!
Within an hour, across town, th
e PI, as instructed, had delivered the photographs to a skilled 3D photo technician who was already busy at work, using state of the art technology!
* * *
The Northern Irishman was certainly getting his money’s worth from the high tech web site! Making the mask had been the easy part. Making sure the PI actually found Jake, a hard man to track down and to actually take the critical photographs, without his knowledge, had been the hard part.
It had all started when Jake had appeared momentarily on the CNN telecast of the terrorist altercation in Jerusalem. That was when the Northern Irishman had spotted Jake and started tracking him in earnest. The PI had been most diligent in tracking him down, hence the handsome overcharge he was making for getting the job done.
* * *
When Jake got to the coffee shop, he smiled when Sarah arrived. She was really into the spirit of their proposed vacation and she arrived loaded with brochures for a wide variety of locations, some in the US and others in more exotic ports of call.
She looked at him with an adoring smile on her lovely face. “So, where would you like to go, Jake?” she asked.
He grinned. “I’m easy, as long as there is a beach, a bar, good food, sun and plenty of sleep!”
She smiled sexily. “Just sleep?”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, a tender look in his eye. “Thanks for being so patient, Sarah!”
She squeezed back, love in her eyes. “Boy, if Aunt Miriam could see me now!”
They both laughed, as Jake kissed her for the first time, right there in the coffee shop.
EPILOGUE
In a small suburb outside Belfast in Northern Ireland, the UPS delivery truck pulled up outside a terraced home in a relatively low income neighborhood. The driver, a package in his hand, jumped down and knocked on the door of Number Twenty Nine.
The door opened and Sean Quinn, the Northern Irishman, a tough-looking, dark-haired man, unshaven, a cigarette dangling in his mouth, stood there inquisitively. “Yeah?”’ he growled, sounding a bit hung over.
The driver smiled at him cheerfully. “Mr. Quinn, is it then?”