Jake went out to the hallway and rounded up the Polizei men. “Let’s go, boys.”
“Wait,” Johann said. “This is. . .”
But Jake cut the man off. “I said, let’s go.”
Petrovic’s man brought them to a back corridor on the ground floor and instructed them to pass through the buildings to the side street.
As they walked, Jake told Sirena to bring the car around the block.
Finally, Johann caught up with Jake and stopped him by pulling on his arm. Jake looked down at the man’s hand like he was about to rip the man’s arm off and beat him with it.
“What?” Jake asked.
“I want you to meet Rolf Fischer,” Johann said.
Jake shrugged as he looked over this man. Rolf looked like Shaggy from Scooby Do, right down to the hipster goatee and scrawny frame. “Were you two butt buddies back in the day?”
Johann looked confused and perhaps disgusted. “Do you have a problem with homosexuals?”
“I don’t give two shits about who someone sleeps with,” Jake said. “I’m just trying to establish relationships.”
“Well, your gaydar is way off,” Johann said. “Rolf has a girlfriend.”
“We broke up,” Rolf said, reaching his hand out to Jake.
Letting the man’s hand hang for a second, Jake finally squeezed down and nearly crushed Rolf’s skinny fingers.
They started walking again. Johann explained that Rolf was with Austrian Polizei. He had been with the State of Tirol division of Polizei, but transferred to Vienna a year ago.
“When Europol needed a liaison, I volunteered,” Rolf said. “Just like Anica.”
Jake stopped. “And how did you get here? More importantly, how did you almost fuck up Anica’s cover?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Rolf said, like a hurt puppy. “I have been following Anica from Innsbruck. When she was nearly killed there, Europol sent me to find her.”
Somewhat impressed that this man had been able to track anyone without Scooby snacks, Jake said, “So, Anica knows you are following her?”
Rolf shook his head. “No, sir. But I was watching her meeting with Petrovic last night. I lost Anica, but I was able to trace Petrovic and his men to this apartment building. I was ordered to simply watch and observe.”
“Then why did you come in guns blazing?” Jake wanted to know.
“I didn’t,” Rolf pled. “The two men behind me started shooting. I didn’t know if they were shooting at me or the Serbs. Who were those men?”
By now, Jake could see that Sirena had pulled the BMW to the corner ahead. He had half a mind to simply leave these neophytes behind and find Anica on his own. For some reason, though, he felt sorry for them.
As they walked to the car, the two Austrian Polizei officers argued about jurisdictional matters. While Rolf was working with Europol, he had authority in the European Union, with special dispensation with non-EU countries. Johann was also with Europol and the Tirol Austrian Polizei, yet his authority seemed to be somewhat limited to that country.
When they reached the car, Jake stopped and said, “Would you both shut the fuck up and get in the car.”
Johann swished his hands together. “Where are we going?”
Jake shook his head. “To get our nails done. Where the fuck do you think? I’ve got a location for Anica.”
Johann and Rolf both looked extremely happy as they piled into the back seat.
Getting into the front passenger seat, Jake stared straight ahead.
“Where to, boss?” Sirena asked.
Checking his watch, Jake realized it would be too late to drive to Riquewihr. That sleepy little wine town would be boarded up by the time they got there.
“We might as well go to the hotel and hit it hard in the morning,” Jake said. Then he turned to the back seat and said, “Could you two stay in the same room without having a pillow fight?”
Rolf said, “This man is funny. I always heard that Jake Adams was an asshole.”
“You heard right, Shaggy,” Jake said. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes as Sirena pulled out toward their hotel a few blocks away.
9
Riquewihr, France
Anica Senka had spent the day driving from Strasbourg to the Alsace region on the border of Germany. Normally the drive would have taken an hour or so, but Anica had stopped frequently for coffee and a couple of wine tastings. This Riesling wine growing region had a difficult history, changing hands between the Germans and the French. Although the region was currently part of France, there were at least as many ethnic Germans living in Riquewihr and the surrounding hills of Alsace. Anica knew this from her school lessons, but she had seen firsthand the tension of those living here when she simply asked questions in the local shops earlier in the day. If she assumed they spoke German, and they were French, they would come off as cold and distant. Her French was not perfect, but the same would happen the other way around. Finally, she pretended to be American, speaking English with a southern accent. Now, both groups could hate her equally.
Earlier in the day she had finally found her target, a man named Pierre Deval, who was working in a small winery tasting room in the quaint old town of the city. She would have to admit that she was terrible at the seduction game. She couldn’t even tell when a guy was trying to hit on her. So, she was clumsy at best trying to pick up a guy. And Pierre Deval didn’t make it easy for her. It took Anica quite a while to even discover if he liked girls. Too many European men had become effeminate, and Pierre could have been the poster child for their movement. Pierre was a slim guy who looked like he was either on a hunger strike or was a strict vegan. He had one of those overly manicured skinny beards, and wore more eye under liner than Anica. Yeah, she would normally never even look at the man, let alone try to go out with him.
Now, after her tortured efforts, just an hour away from midnight, she wandered into a local pub looking for Pierre. The skinny hipster sat at a booth against the far wall, and he waved a couple of fingers at her.
As she crossed the bar, Anica caught a waiter and ordered a Czech pilsner. Then she took a seat across from the Frenchman.
“You found me,” Pierre said.
“There aren’t many bars open in the old town at this hour,” she said, with a hint of disappointment.
“It’s a tourist town,” Pierre explained. “And not a fun one. This place is set up for old people who eat their dinner at four p.m. and go to bed by eight.”
Anica’s pilsner magically appeared and then the waiter slipped away like a ghost. She sipped her beer and licked her lips. A delay tactic. This man was hard to read. The only reason he had eventually agreed to this meeting was because she had name dropped, mentioning she had been told to come here by the Serb, Zoran Petrovic.
The Frenchman was on his phone typing something. More importantly, he was ignoring Anica.
“Didn’t your mother teach you to not ignore a woman?” she asked.
Without looking up, Pierre said, “My mother is dead. So is my father.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. They were assholes.”
This wasn’t going as planned, she thought. She needed to move up the chain of this organization to understand the true nature of their business. But so far all she had run across were a bunch of thugs and a disengaged hipster.
“Zoran Petrovic,” she said.
Pierre finally looked up from his phone. “What about him?”
“He sent me here.”
“Who do you think I’m texting with?”
“Then he will confirm this.”
Setting his phone on the table, Pierre said, “One of his men was shot tonight at his apartment.”
“Is he alright?”
“The man is dead.” Pierre hesitated, his gaze piercing into her eyes finally. “He said a friend of yours came by and struck him so hard it knocked his glass eye out.”
Damn. “Is he sure this man knows me?”
<
br /> “Positive. And he said the man is the most dangerous person he has ever encountered. A guy named Jake Adams.”
Crap, she thought. Why was Uncle Jake involved? “I have been off the grid for a while,” she said. “And he is like an uncle to me. He worries.” Perhaps she could use Jake’s reputation to influence this man, assuming Jake had kept her cover intact. Knowing Jake, he had enhanced her reputation.
“Petrovic said this man had an Austrian Polizei man with him. Are you Polizei?”
“Do I look like Polizei?”
Pierre shrugged.
“It could have been an old boyfriend,” she lied. “You tell some people no so many times, you would think they would finally understand you are not interested.”
“This Jake Adams fellow mentioned that the man wanted to have sex with you. I understand why. That makes sense.”
She guessed that Johann Gruber had to be the man with Jake. But why had he come? Why did the Polizei allow it?
“Are we going to just talk?” Anica asked. “Or will you have sex with me?”
The Frenchman almost said something, but must have decided not to question fate like this. Instead, he put some money on the table paying for both of their beers, and then he got up to go. “Are you coming?” Pierre asked.
Anica got up. “That depends on your skill.”
“I’m French. Need I say more?”
Pierre escorted her a couple of blocks to his apartment, which was on the second floor of the place where he worked—the winery tasting room.
Once inside, Anica said, “You have a short drive to work.”
“This place is small, but it’s part of my pay. Would you like some wine?”
She glanced at the bed and back to Pierre. “That sounds great. Riesling?”
“Of course.” Pierre opened a bottle and poured them each a glass. He handed her one.
She took a sip and said, “I don’t normally jump in bed with men.”
“I must go to the bathroom,” Pierre said, setting his glass of wine on the small kitchen table.
As soon as he went into the bathroom, Anica drugged his wine. Moments later, Pierre came out naked. The skinny guy had what could only be described as a micro-penis. She couldn’t tell if it was hard or not, since it barely poked through his pubic hair.
“Wow. This is a surprise,” she said. She sipped her wine, but couldn’t keep her eyes off his tiny penis. “Have you considered getting into porn?” Child porn, perhaps.
“You are mocking me,” he said, picking up his wine and taking a healthy drink. “I make up for my lack of stature with other techniques.” He licked his lips with a massive tongue.
“I see,” Anica said.
He smiled and finished his wine. Then he said, “Let’s see your body.”
She grabbed his little penis and pulled him toward the bed. Then she pushed him onto his back and his penis looked like a night crawler poking its head above thick grass.
“Before we do this,” she said, “I must also go to the bathroom. Keep it ready for me.”
He scooted his body up the bed, putting his head on his pillow while he stroked himself with two fingers, a smile on his face.
Anica went into the bathroom and ran the water. Since she was there, she peed. Then she flushed and checked her watch. That should be enough time, she thought.
Heading back to the main room, Anica said, “I hope you kept things going while I was away.”
When she rounded the corner, she saw Pierre flat on his back. His penis was now as flaccid as linguini. In the morning, he would have to imagine what a stud he had been. Of course, she would be gone. But not before she took care of a couple of things.
First, she found Pierre’s phone and accessed his call log. Then she ran through his recent text messages. She read the conversation Pierre just had with Zoran Petrovic. The Serb had in fact told the Frenchman about Jake Adams and associates. Petrovic had said some brutal things about Jake, but the Serb said he thought Jake might be working with the Polizei. Pierre asked what to do, and Petrovic said, ‘Fuck her and kill her.’
Now she didn’t feel bad about drugging that French asshole. In fact, she planned to do a couple of things to this man now. But first she needed to find out everything she could about their organization. She got onto the man’s wireless and uploaded everything from his smart phone to a jump drive. Then, after turning on her smart phone, she transferred his data to her own phone. Next, she found his laptop. But, after an exhaustive search, she was sure there was nothing of importance on there.
Back on her phone, she pulled up Pierre’s files and started to scan through them. She glanced across at the bed with the naked Frenchman. “You really screwed up, Pierre,” she said aloud. A simple password would have made this much more difficult.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed and she looked to see who was calling. It simply said, ‘Teutonic Knight,’ which made Anica smile. She considered not answering it, but needed to know what he knew.
Taping on the answer button, she said, “Uncle Jake.”
“It’s about time you turned on your phone. How is Riquewihr?”
Ignoring his question, she said, “Why are you tracking me?”
“I need to know you’re alright,” Jake said.
“I’m fine.”
“Well, don’t trust the Frenchman, Pierre Deval.”
How in the hell? “What makes you say that name?”
“Petrovic gave the man up too fast.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she admitted, glancing at the naked man on the bed. “Pierre mentioned something about you knocking the eyeball out of Petrovic.”
“An unfortunate incident,” Jake admitted with a slight chuckle.
There was a momentary lull in their conversation.
Finally, reluctantly, she said, “I think I have a problem.”
“That’s why I’m here, Anica. You know that I’d do anything for you.”
“I have Pierre’s phone,” she said. “He got a text from Petrovic saying to bed me and then kill me.”
“Where’s the Frenchman now?”
“Naked and in bed.”
“You didn’t.”
“No, of course not. He’s taking a long nap.”
“Good girl. Can you get some intel out of him?”
“I’ve downloaded everything from his phone to mine. Do you think I should share the data with my people?”
“Polizei or Europol?”
“You know about my affiliation with Europol?”
“Yes. In fact, part of the incident tonight brought out a man who had also been tracking you. A guy named Rolf.”
“Rolf Fischer?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s there with you?”
“Along with Johann Gruber and my friend Sirena.”
“I heard that you had a new partner. Sorry to hear about Alexandra. I wish I had known at the time, but I didn’t hear until months later.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait, you said Johann was there also?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. What do you think of him?”
“I think he’s a little raw.”
“He has not been introduced to the world of Jake Adams.”
“What does that mean?” Jake asked.
“What do they say in America? Shit happens around your sphere of influence.”
“When you poke a tiger, expect to get scratched.”
She had to agree with that. But now she wasn’t sure what to do with her current case. Was she burned? Probably. More than likely. Definitely.
“What should I do with this guy?” she asked.
“Do you have a knife?” Jake asked. “I’d cut his nuts off and make them into earrings. If you do that, send me a pic.”
“I can’t do that.”
“He was going to kill you.”
Jake had a point.
“Never mind,” Jake said. “Put his clothes back on him.”
>
“Do you know how hard it is to put clothes on a passed-out man?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Anyway, once you do that, then tie his ass up and wait for us to get there in the morning.”
Anica agreed and then gave Jake the address for the Frenchman’s apartment.
“I’ll take care of that asshole,” Jake said. “Get some sleep.”
“It’s about an hour’s drive from Strasbourg to here,” she said. “Forty-five minutes the way you drive.”
“Funny. We’ll get there early. Take care.”
She shoved her phone into her back pocket and went to work on Pierre. This man was ready to use her and then kill her. He should have to pay for that intent. She smiled when she thought about what she should do to him. But in the end, she simply dressed the man, tied him up tight and strapped him to the headboard. It would be a long night, she thought. But this man would talk. Everyone talked.
10
Europol Headquarters
The Hauge, the Netherlands
It was nearly midnight, but Verner Kappel, Europol Deputy Director of Operations, was still in his office in the top level of the gray brick building center tower. Kappel was a former German Polizei officer who had retired from his home in Berlin to take this post with the European Union’s law enforcement agency.
Now he was starting to question if he should have simply taken his Polizei retirement and settled into a country cottage on one of the lakes on the outskirts of Berlin.
Kappel was at his office for one reason. One of his deputies, the director of The European Migrant Smuggling Centre (EMSC), had called him and said they needed to meet on short notice. The Spaniard, Antonio Garcia, was new to the EMSC, so he was still trying to get a good grasp on the job. In fact, the EMSC was only a couple of years old. It was formed after the member nations saw a huge influx of migrants following wars in the Middle East and North Africa.
Standing at his narrow window overlooking the city lights, Kappel didn’t turn when there was a slight knock at his door. Then he saw Garcia in the window’s reflection, slip in carrying a tablet.
“Sir,” Garcia said, stopping out in front of his desk.
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