Counter Terror (A Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series Book 13)

by Trevor Scott

The last door was on the far right side of the corridor. Jake moved up and listened, keeping back from the door.

  Just then came the sound of breaking glass. Jake checked the door handle. It was locked.

  Gunfire from outside the house.

  Jake shifted his body to the wall across from the door and shoved his foot into it next to the handle. The door gave way and Jake dove to the ground, his gun aimed up.

  A salvo of bullets peppered the air, striking the walls and the door opening. But Jake had no shot.

  More gunfire.

  Then came four or five shots from behind and above Jake. A man fell to the floor, his head hitting the tile surface and his lifeless eyes staring right at Jake from across the room.

  Elisa stepped over Jake and cleared the rest of the room.

  Getting to his feet, Jake said into the comm, “Status outside?”

  “One down out the window,” Alexandra said.

  But he could see that for himself, since the man was hanging halfway out the window. “Clear in here,” Jake said.

  Elisa moved about the room and checked the pulse on the man she had shot.

  “Is that your man from Athens?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. That’s Zamir.”

  Jake glanced about the room and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There were tables with magnified lights and scores of electronics. Not only were there trigger devices used to set off larger explosives, there was a large cache of C4. There were also the beginning of what looked like suicide vests. This Zamir had already completed his first device, which was sitting on a table by itself in a completed area. Jake checked to make sure the device wasn’t set to explode.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Elisa asked.

  Looking over the bomb precursor, Jake found the right wires leading to an electronic device—an older half disassembled cell phone. This was a crude device without a booby-trapped failsafe. Carefully, Jake removed the wires to the phone. Then he slipped the charge from the C4 and set that aside.

  Alexandra joined them in the room and gave a little whistle. “Wow. This is crazy.”

  Elisa pulled out her phone and took a number of photos. Jake did the same thing. Both sent the photos to their people—Elisa to the Italian External Intelligence and Security Agency and her current boss with AISI, and Jake to Kurt Jenkins.

  Finally, sirens started to get closer.

  Jake glanced to Elisa and said, “You’re gonna have to explain this. But I’m not sure you can explain us.”

  “Our agency will take over, along with AISI,” Elisa said.

  “Every law enforcement organization in Italy will want in on this,” he assured her.

  “I’ll control the situation,” she said. Elisa got on her phone and followed up her text to AISI, the Italian FBI.

  By now a few of the Polizia sirens had settled outside. All they needed now was to run across a number of trigger-happy cops, Jake thought.

  “Let them know we’re in the back,” Jake said. “Mention a shitload of bombs. That will slow them down.”

  Elisa nodded her head and continued to speak with her superiors. In a few minute, she got off the phone and glanced at Jake and Alexandra. “We’re good. They will talk with Polizia dispatch and let them know the good guys are in here.”

  “What about us?” Alexandra asked.

  “I told them I was here with two of my agents,” Elisa said. “A man and a woman. That’s all.”

  Jake said, “What about the strike on the other cells?”

  Elisa glanced about the room. Finally, she said, “That’s expected any moment now. Especially now that we have found the bomb builder.”

  Jake’s phone buzzed and he saw that it was Kurt Jenkins. “Yeah.”

  “You got them,” Kurt said.

  “We think so.”

  “Listen, I told you about the INTERPOL officer from Switzerland. He was dropping his partner off at the airport and I redirected him to your location. He should be there soon.”

  “What does he want with me?” Jake asked.

  “Just talk with the man,” Kurt said.

  “All right. Now, can you cover us here? I’ve had to kill a few people and don’t want to end up in an Italian jail.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Kurt said. “Good work.”

  Before Jake could answer, the phone cut off. He shoved the phone in his pocket.

  “Are we good?” Alexandra asked.

  Technically, she would still be covered by German Intelligence, but it might be less complex if the Agency just included her under their umbrella.

  “We’re covered,” Jake said.

  The next ten minutes were intense. Luckily, Elisa’s bosses made it clear to the responding Polizia and Carabinieri that they were the good guys. Once the police realized that this was an operation above their level, they simply stood back and played crowd control.

  Eventually, officers from both AISI, internal security, and Elisa’s external intelligence agency, showed up and started to assess the situation. This would be the greatest win for both organizations in a long time. Both Jake and Elisa guessed that they would fight over who got credit for the operation. Jake would make damn sure that Elisa got her due. After all, she had tracked this Zamir all the way from Athens, managing to place a tracking device on the guy.

  They had made their way outside just as the sun started poking through the clouds on the horizon.

  “How you doing?” Jake asked Elisa, who seemed somewhat despondent.

  “You make things interesting, Jake,” Elisa said.

  Alexandra smiled at the Italian woman.

  “If you’re persistent enough, good things happen,” Jake said.

  “Relentless,” Alexandra said.

  Jake shrugged. “That too.”

  An officer with the Italian Internal Information and Security Agency came up to the three of them and sheepishly waited for a lull in their conversation. He was a man in his early thirties. Finally, he asked Elisa, “We understand that you have a Professor Antonio Baroni, a suspect in this investigation.”

  Jake pulled out the keys to his rental car and handed it to the young man. “He’s in the dark brown Fiat Tipo down the block. He’s tied up in the trunk. If you have a couple of hours to waste, ask the guy about the Pythagorean Theorem.”

  The man took the keys but looked confused as he walked away.

  “Now that’s just cruel, Jake,” Elisa said. She looked at her watch. “Let’s go. We have a front seat to the raid.”

  37

  On scene two blocks away, just inside the police cordon, sat a large command vehicle owned by the Italian Internal Information and Security Agency, although to most outside observers this would appear to be a massive black van.

  At precisely 0700, AISI, backed up by special tactical units of the Carabinieri and the Italian Polizia, simultaneously moved in on the positions Jake and his team had discovered.

  On large LED screens split in four, they all watched as the tactical teams moved in. On other screens they could toggle through body cameras worn by every member of the teams.

  Jake thought about how technology had changed over the years. When he first started with the Agency, they were still using film in cameras. Sure they had some video surveillance, but nothing like they used today.

  “You did this,” Jake said to Elisa.

  Coming out of a daze, Elisa shook her head. “You did this, Jake. I was just along for the ride.”

  As they watched the raids turn into shootouts, a man came in from the back of the van. Jake studied the man and concluded based on the man’s age and attire and the small image sent to his phone, that he was the INTERPOL officer from Switzerland.

  The man introduced himself as Derrick Konrad reaching his hand out to Jake.

  Shaking the man’s hand with a firm grasp, Jake said, “I understand you wanted to talk with me.”

  “It’s the strangest thing, Mister Adams,” Konrad said.

  Jake held up his hand.
“Jake is fine.”

  “Okay. Anyway, I got a call from my boss in Switzerland, who had gotten a call from his former boss in France. Some old timer retired from INTERPOL, I understand. So, this man knows you. Said you were associated with a former INTERPOL officer from Austria.”

  Now Jake understood. “Yeah, I know who you’re talking about. What does he want?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Konrad said. “He mentioned something about a friend. I believe a wealthy benefactor, who you happen to be associated with now. But he didn’t mention a name. I’m very confused.”

  “Welcome to the intelligence business,” Jake said.

  Konrad smiled. “I was able to take a look inside this not so safe house. The devices were similar to those we found in Geneva. My guess is that our man was on his way here, but he knew that we were closing in on him.”

  “Either that or we didn’t catch all of them,” Jake said.

  Pointing at the screens, Konrad said, “We’ll soon find out. It was mentioned to me that the professor from Crotone was planning on using an anarchist protest to lure a bunch of people to the target sites tomorrow.”

  “That’s what we understand,” Jake said. “We also found suicide jackets only partially constructed. Our guy would have been working all day to put those together. My guess is that this is not over. There could be more cells. Let’s hope the Italians can have a some balls with the professor from Crotone.”

  “This would have been a blood bath,” Konrad said.

  Jake agreed with a simple nod. Then he turned his attention to the screens again, where a number of flash bangs and shoot outs were taking place. He hoped like hell that these men had not gotten any explosives previously.

  Elisa stood and pulled her phone from her pocket, moving away from the screens. She mostly listened, but then said a few words before hanging up. Now she came to Jake.

  “What’s up?” Jake asked.

  “They found Vito Galati,” she said.

  “Where? At the country club or the video arcade?” Jake quipped.

  She shook her head. “He claims that Baroni’s assistant took him hostage up in the Sila National Park. He finally escaped this morning.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Still down in Calabria,” Elisa said.

  Jake introduced the INTERPOL officer to Elisa, and then explained how she had tracked the Iraqi bomb builder from Athens to Italy, taking him down in the house. He was making damn sure that Elisa got credit for all of this. Jake had no interest in recognition. He never had that desire. Just get the damn job done. That’s what mattered.

  Moments later, someone declared that all of the strike teams had cleared their locations. A sigh of relief turned into cheers and back slaps.

  Jake and Konrad stepped outside and shook hands one more time. “Thanks for stopping by,” Jake said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Perhaps,” Konrad said, but he seemed a bit unsure. “I believe I’m being recruited for something. But I’m not sure what that might be.”

  So that was it, Jake thought. His Spanish billionaire friend, Carlos Gomez, had heard good things about this INTERPOL officer. Now Gomez wanted to add this guy to their team.

  “Why do you say that?” Jake asked.

  “I’m supposed to meet with a guy in Monaco,” Konrad said. “There’s a private jet waiting at the airport to take me there. I’m a bit concerned.”

  Jake smiled. “Are you happy with your job?”

  Konrad shrugged. “It can be frustrating.”

  “I understand. Take the flight. It’s a nice plane. Listen to what the man has to say. And maybe we’ll work together in the future.”

  The Swiss man nodded his understanding. He thanked Jake again and wandered back toward the Polizia cordon barrier.

  Alexandra nudged up to Jake and said, “Are you ready to head home?”

  “I’m tired.”

  “I drove almost all night,” she reminded him.

  “Good point. What say we drop off the car at the airport and fly home.”

  She touched his hand and said, “That’s what I was thinking. I’ll call my cousin and tell her we’re coming home.” Alexandra wandered up the street toward their rental car.

  Elisa came over to Jake and took this opportunity to give him a big hug, her eyes up the street on Alexandra. Then she pulled away and squeezed Jake’s hand. “Thanks, Jake. You really deserve all the credit for this.”

  “No. I did what I needed to do. You did what they pay you to do.”

  She came in again and the two of them kissed on each cheek. “I’m still going to make sure my boss understands we did this together.”

  “What about Vito?” Jake asked.

  Shaking her head, Elisa said, “We’ll have to see about him.”

  Jake gave her a parting smile and wandered back to his car.

  38

  Tropea, Italy

  Two days removed from all that had happened in Rome, and Jake and Alexandra had settled back into their life with their young daughter Emma in Calabria. Both of them had done a lot of sleeping in that short while.

  It was early evening now and Jake had gone into the city of Tropea with Sergio Russo, their new Malavita friend. Russo had a special contact for one of the specialties of the area—great, fresh seafood. They had just purchased five fresh tuna steaks right at the boat of a fisherman who had caught them that afternoon. It didn’t get any fresher than that.

  Now, Jake drove their Alfa Romeo home along the winding, narrow road, the sun just dropping below the sea.

  “You’ve got a nice place on the coast, Jake,” Russo said. “And you don’t have to worry about security. My people will know not to touch the place.”

  “Good to know,” Jake said, as he slowed to make a sharp curve. “I’d hate to have to hurt your people.”

  Russo laughed. “Good point. I’ve seen how you and your woman operate. Emma is very beautiful. I would hate to be the young man who comes to date her in about fifteen years.”

  Jake had thought about that as well. But he figured the young men would have just as much to fear from Alexandra.

  “You are lucky to have Alexandra’s cousin to help with your daughter,” Russo said. “Family is everything.”

  That’s what Jake loved about the Italian people. Russo could be one of the most brutal captains of the Calabrese Malavita, yet still extol the virtues of the family unit. Blood was everything to them.

  Jake’s phone suddenly chimed, and he knew it wasn’t a text or a phone call. This was his security alarm. He slowed the car slightly as he found his phone and checked out the video streaming. His system was set at all times, and he never got false readings. On the screen he saw a number of people moving stealthily toward the house.

  “Shit,” Jake said.

  “What is it?”

  Jake handed his phone to Russo and then punched the gas hard. “My house is under attack.”

  Russo kept watching the video stream while Jake navigated the narrow road. Jake knew he was still ten minutes away from his house.

  Punching the phone button on his car, Jake said, “Call Alexandra.” His phone linked with the car and made the call. But it went directly to Alexandra’s voice mail, which had no message. Only a beep. He cut the call short and took back his phone.

  Now he drove even faster, to the point of nearly running off the side of the mountain a few times. As he got to his front gate, it was already open. He powered through and could hear the sound of gunfire.

  Russo pulled his gun and looked eager to get out as they rolled up to the house.

  More gunfire.

  Jake skidded to a halt and shut down the engine. As he got out he said to Russo, “You cover the front and I’ll go around back.” He knew that Alexandra would go to their safe room just off their master bedroom overlooking the sea.

  Russo got out and took a position behind the car.

  More gunfire. From two directions.

 
; Jake rushed around the side of his house, his gun ready to take out any targets. As he started to round the back corner, he stopped in his tracks when he saw a man with a submachine gun. Jake scooted back around the corner just as the man opened up and peppered the stone wall with bullets. When the shots stopped, he rounded the corner and opened fire on the man as he was replacing a magazine, dropping the man next to Jake’s pool.

  Now Jake came to the edge of his large sliding wall of glass that led out to his pool from his living room. He stopped to assess the situation. He had no communications with Alexandra or cousin Monica. Where were they?

  Gunshots from the front door. More inside.

  Jake took in a deep breath and ran inside, his gun firing constantly as he vectored toward his bedroom. He jumped over an obviously dead cousin Monica, her body bleeding profusely. Others in dark clothing also lay strewn about Jake’s house.

  As he entered the room, he surprised another man who stood before the safe room and was trying to figure out how to breech the heavy door. But there was no way in. Jake got the drop on this man, shooting him several times until his bloody body dropped to the travertine tile.

  More gunshots out front, where Russo had to be engaged with the men.

  Jake punched in the cipher code to his safe room and the door opened. Then he quickly closed it behind him. Alexandra lay against the far wall, blood everywhere, and their child crying in her left arm while she pointed the gun in her right arm at Jake.

  She was shaking, obviously in shock. Jake took her gun and set it on the floor. Then he assessed her wounds. She had been hit in the stomach and the chest. Another shot hit her leg. Blood pooled around her torso. Her breathing was weak. More blood dripped from her mouth.

  “Monica?” Alexandra asked softly.

  Jake shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said.

  From inside this room, Jake could still hear the sound of gunfire. But the room was mostly sound proof, so the shots were muffled. Russo was still engaged with these men. Jake found his phone and called Russo. Somehow, the man had heard the phone, or felt it buzz in his pants.