Shot at Redemption

by Ken W. Smith

  “Get out of our way,” the African-American woman said. “We don’t care about your problems. We want to get a drink.”

  The women blocked their way. “It is forbidden to drink alcohol. Go back to your own country,” one woman said in broken English.

  “I said, get out of our way.”

  Jay saw the second woman wasn’t so bold. She was a petite brunette with straight brown hair and glasses. More of an intellectual than a sailor. She cowered behind her friend. One of the men in the white robes grabbed her and pulled her out of the crowd. Jay saw what he did and followed. He heard screams and shouts of let go of me. Then he heard slapping noises and silence.

  Jay pushed after them. He saw the man with the white robe turn a corner. He followed them down a narrow street. He heard Bonner and the African-American woman behind him.

  The woman caught up to Jay. She tugged on his sleeve and said, “My name is Marcia. I’m a Navy Communications Officer. My friend is Renee. She’s with the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs. They can’t find out. They’ll kill her.”

  They ran through a series of winding, narrow streets. Then they disappeared into a seedy apartment building. Jay lowered his shoulder and broke the door down. He ran up a flight of stairs and stopped. Two robed men stood on the landing in front of him. Each held a large knife. The man who grabbed Renee was behind them. He had her pinned face-first against the wall. One hand held her in place. His other hand was pulling his robe up.

  Jay punched the closest man in the stomach, then stepped back as the second man lashed out with his knife. Jay ducked, grabbed the man’s wrist, and twisted until the knife fell. Then he pulled the man towards him and let go. The man flew down the stairs face first, landing at Bonner’s feet. Steve punched him several times in the face until the man didn’t move.

  The other robed man tried to punch Jay again. This time Jay punched him back in the face. The power of the blow shattered the man’s nose, and he fell back against the wall. Jay grabbed his head, pulled it down, and brought his knee up into his face. The man dropped to the floor like a sack of flour.

  Jay picked up the knife from the floor. Then walked up to the man who held Renee against the wall. His underpants were on the floor, but she wasn’t letting him get his way.

  “Let her go now if you want to live,” Jay said in Arabic. The man turned and spat in his face.

  Renee saw what her attacker did to Jay. Twisting and turning, she struggled to get out of the man’s grip without any success.

  Jay watched the meek woman transform into a trained killer. She spun herself around and drove her elbow into her attacker’s temple. The man screamed and backed off. Renee slammed her foot onto his instep. Then elbowed him again, slamming him back against the railing. Pressing her back against the wall for support, she kicked him between the legs. When he bent forward, she kneed him in the nose. Blood spurt everywhere. Renee and her attacker both saw his knife on the floor. But the man was quicker, grabbing the knife a split second before she could. He whipped the combat knife in a wide arc, slicing Renee in the forearm. Instinctively, she grabbed her arm, and the man punched her in the face. Renee collapsed against the wall, stunned by the massive blow. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it up.

  Renee screamed, “No!” as the man exposed her slim neck.

  “Now is the time to visit Allah,” the man said as he pulled the knife back behind his head. Jay leaped forward and grabbed the knife with both hands. The man was tall and powerful. But not as strong as Jay, who twisted the man’s arm until he heard the bones in his forearm break. Jay ignored the man’s screams as he turned the arm, pointing the knife at the man’s rib cage. Then, with one mighty push, Jay drove the knife deep into the man’s chest. They tumbled to the floor in front of Renee. Jay pulled the knife out and buried it in the side of the man’s neck. A gusher of blood spurted from the gaping wounds.

  Sitting curled against the wall, Renee shook and sobbed. Jay used the knife to cut a strip off the dead man’s robe and wrapped the cloth around Renee’s wound.

  Bonner bounded up the stairs, grabbing Jay by the arm. “We have to go. I can hear angry shouts outside the door. They’ll kill us if they catch us. We have to find someplace to hide until we can call the MPs

  “No MPs,” Jay said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Marcia, call for a clean-up team,” Renee said as Jay helped her up. “Have a tactical team meet us behind the building. We need to get out of here as soon as we can.”

  “I take it you two don’t work for the Navy’s PR department,” Bonner said.

  “We can’t confirm or deny anything,” Renee said with a smile. “Let’s get out of here, and I’ll explain later.”

  Angry shouts came from the front door. Jay went to the dead man and searched his body.

  “No gun.”

  “They’re illegal in Bahrain,” Bonner said. “Let’s go up.”

  Jay followed Bonner up the stairs to the next floor. Bonner kicked in the first door he saw and ran in. The apartment was dark and empty. He went to the window and opened it. A narrow alleyway sat four floors below. Too far to jump.

  Renee and Marcia joined them in the apartment. Pointing at a clothesline strung between the apartment across the alley, she said, “That will work.”

  Bonner looked at her. “It might for you, but I weigh over one hundred kilos.”

  “It will hold.” Renee pushed Bonner out of the way and sliced the clothesline with the attacker’s bloodied knife. She reeled in the line and tied one end around the leg of the kitchen table. She wrapped the rope around her waist and then between her legs. She threw the end out the window and watched it land on the ground. “It’s long enough.”

  Jay watched Renee crawl through the window and repel down the side of the building. In twenty seconds, she was on the ground. “You guys are next. Hurry.”

  Bonner looked at Marcia, “Ladies first.” She pulled the rope back up and repeated the process. She was a bit bigger than Renee but still managed to get to the ground in less than a minute.

  “Mendes, you go. If I’m too big, I’ll break the rope, and you’ll be stuck here.”

  “Great, and if the rope breaks, you’re landing on top of me.”

  But Jay didn’t argue. He pulled the rope back up, tied it around himself, and crawled out of the window feet first. He looked down to see a black van pull up below the window. Four soldiers in black assault uniforms piled out, taking up defensive positions around the van.

  “Come on, Jay,” Marcia said. “We need to go.”

  Jay pushed off the wall and let the rope slide between his legs. His right hand controlling his speed as he bounced off the brown stucco siding until he reached the ground.

  Marcia met him and helped him remove the rope. “Get into the van,” she said.

  Jay followed orders and jumped inside. It had no markings and looked like a normal cargo van, except for the two rows of steel benches.

  A minute later, Bonner piled in with Renee and Marcia behind him. The tactical team followed and closed the doors.

  Chapter 40

  The memories shocked Jay. Now it was starting to make sense.

  “Why did you drug me and send me to the bottom of the world?”

  “I had my agency clean up the scene, and Steve and I arranged for you to leave the country for your own safety. The Iranians were furious. They brought in hundreds of agents, but you were thousands of miles away in the Falkland Islands. Steve made the arrangements and kept an eye on you. One of his contractors worked on the ship as the executive officer.”

  “That was Dora Williams?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why are you telling me this now? Do you want to work for me, or is this all an elaborate cover scheme?”

  “No, I retired from Mossad. I live in Israel, and I want some action without working for the government. I know Gia Khalil, and she’s confirmed what I already knew — you’re a great guy, and your company is growing. I
want to be part of your success.”

  “Does Gia know about what happened in Bahrain?”

  “No, only Steve knows since he was there. He contacted your friends when you disappeared so they wouldn’t worry but never told them why.”

  “Does he work for Mossad too?”

  “Who, Steve? Oh no, they use him to transition retiring agents back into civilian life. Many friendly intelligence agencies use him because he’s professional and loyal.”

  * * *

  “What do you think?” Steve asked Jay and Antonio after Renee left.

  “I like Benoit and the Pugatsky guy,” Antonio said. “They seem like solid operators. Benoit’s a leader, and Pugatsky’s a sniper and has personal protection experience.”

  “What about the girl?” Jay said. “She has a lot of great connections in the intelligence community.”

  “Do we really need another intelligence agent?” Antonio said. “You have Gia and me.”

  “I know, but Gia is my second-in-command in the U.S. I need her to manage my field operations. And you’ll be doing the same in Europe. Having a dedicated intelligence operative with contacts at the CIA, Mossad, and Jordanian intelligence will be beneficial.”

  “Well, you are the boss,” Antonio said. “I’ll go along with your suggestions. Steve, what are the next steps?”

  “I’ll present the offers to the three candidates. If they accept, I’ll help you onboard them, and the rest is up to you.”

  Jay and Antonio rode the elevator down and retrieved their car from valet parking.

  “What’s next, boss?” Antonio said. “I like the sound of that word. We will make quite a team.”

  “I agree with you, Antonio. Actually, I had a thought about one other candidate.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Silvie Bruehner. She’s professional and intelligent.”

  “She is brilliant, but she doesn’t have any special operations training. I’m afraid she might not have the skill set we need. She’s an investigator. Remember your fallen hero back in the States.”

  “Who, Bill Shannon?”

  “Yes, you weren’t going to work with part-time police officers because they didn’t have the same training special ops soldiers had. I believe Silvie falls into that category.”

  “Okay, that’s a good point. I’ll trust you to work with Steve to find more agents.”

  Chapter 41

  Boston, MA

  The DHS command center was bustling with activity. FBI and NSA agents hovered around computer screens listening to covert audio recordings. It seemed the clash in Pakistan increased internet chatter.

  Jay approached Mack as he scrolled through new situation reports. “Did you have any luck finding out who the owner of the Swiss bank account is?”

  “No, I haven’t heard anything,” Mack said. “They told me Tyre is a coastal city in southern Lebanon near the Israeli border. It’s known as a base for Hezbollah, the Iranian-backed terror group. But they can’t identify a particular person or group. We’re searching our databases for Hezbollah leaders who may still be alive and active.”

  “Why would they attack the Catholic church?” Jay said. “Isn’t their beef with the Israelis?”

  “Yes, it doesn’t make sense.”

  “How about the guy Gia brought back from Pakistan. Did we get any information from him?”

  “No, Gia interviewed him twice, but he’s not talking. She thinks he looks familiar, but she can’t remember where she saw him.”

  “Show me his picture again.”

  Mack pulled up an image on one of the computer screens. He showed Jay the picture of a dark-haired man with a long, matted beard.

  “Wait, something about him does look familiar. Let me make a call.”

  Jay pulled out his cell phone and said: “Siri, call Natalie Choi.” He waited a minute until Natalie answered.

  “Choi here.”

  “Natalie, it’s Jay. I need your help.”

  She hung up the phone.

  Jay called her back. This time she let him speak.

  “Do you remember the final mission in Dubai when Gia was undercover as the Princess?” Jay asked. “Gia sent us photos of two security guards at the hotel. If I remember, you found them in the FBI’s terror database.”

  “Yeah, one was al-Mujadin. He was posing as Kathleen’s bodyguard.”

  “Right,” Jay said. “Who was the other guy?”

  “He was al-Mujadin’s second in command. “His name was al-Shalil. He was Pakistani.”

  “Whatever happened to him?”

  “I don’t know. I assumed you killed al-Shalil during the rescue operation. Wasn’t he one of the guards in the cave?”

  “No, he wasn’t. I’m having Mack send you a picture. Can you compare it to the database picture?”

  “Okay, I have it,” Natalie said. “Let me pull up the database picture from my phone’s memory. Jay, you’re right. He’s the same guy.”

  “Thanks, Natalie. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me more than one, Mendes. I’ll never forgive you for leaving me in Bahrain.”

  Jay didn’t say anything. He couldn’t tell her the real story, and why bother making one up. He hung up the phone and went back to work.

  “I have a thought,” Mack said. “Did it ever occur to you that al-Mujadin and al-Shalil weren’t trying to kidnap Kathleen? But they were working with her?”

  “Mack, what are you saying?”

  “What if Kathleen planned the kidnapping herself? What if she married Goddard to get access to his fortune and bolster her career?”

  “That’s crazy,” Jay said. “Kathleen was already a successful reporter. She didn’t need to marry him to get rich.”

  “But what if she had a different motivation?” Mack said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s Lebanese, right?”

  “Yeah, but her name is Amejian. That’s Armenian, and most of them are Christians.”

  “But her mother was Muslim,” Gia said as she approached the two men on a pair of crutches. “The interview she did with Joanne Roberts the night I was in Dubai. My memories of that night are unclear because of the carbon monoxide poisoning. But I now remember her saying something about a wedding and bombing.”

  “I remember,” Mack said. “She was visiting her mother’s family in South Lebanon when Israeli bombs destroyed her cousin’s home. She was the only one that survived.”

  “Was that town Tyre?” Jay said. “Mack, can we find out?”

  “I can reach out to our Embassy in Beirut and see if there are records of people killed in the bombing.”

  “That explains why al-Shalil knew we were coming back for the gun,” Gia said. “He knew the gun was in the cave, and if we came back for it, we were getting closer.

  “Closer to what?” Jay asked.

  “What if she planned to kill Goddard all along?” Gia said. “Did Kathleen use you to cover up the murder?”

  “Gia, you’re a genius,” Jay said. “Mack, can you find out who bought the gun? I doubt Kathleen bought it herself. If we can connect her with al-Shalil, we can charge him with conspiracy to commit murder. That may change his mind about talking. In the meantime, I’m going to dig deeper into Kathleen’s relationship with al-Shalil and al-Mujadin.”

  Jay spent hours sifting through footage of Kathleen’s background. He learned she reported on the wars in Syria and Afghanistan. Then he had a thought and called Antonio.

  “Did Renee and the other two guys accept our offer?” Jay said.

  “Yes, they did,” Antonio said. “They’re going to Switzerland to start training.”

  “Tell them to go to Beirut instead. Have Renee call me.”

  “What’s this about?”

  Jay filled him in on their theories and his brainstorm.

  Antonio paused for a moment, then said, “It might work. I also know who we can target.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I spend a lot
of time with the financial apparatus supporting Al Qaeda. There are two brothers, Sammi and Rajji Nasharif, in Tyre, who have close ties with Hezbollah. Some people even believe they’re part of the leadership team. Sammi is a big car enthusiast. I met him at the grand opening of the Ferrari dealership in Beirut.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “We conduct a little field intelligence work.”

  “I’m coming to join you.”

  “Jay, you’re back in the states. You can delegate this work to your intelligence team.”

  “Yeah, how did that work in Dubai? I’m bringing CJ and Madman with me. I want to be close by in case your plan goes sideways.”

  Antonio laughed, “What could go wrong?”

  Chapter 42

  Lebanon

  The sleek Ferrari Portofino hugged the winding coast road from Beirut to Tyre. Jay stayed a safe distance behind the six hundred horsepower beast. Antonio insisted on driving with the top down to enjoy the ‘driving experience.’ He could tell Renee enjoyed the wind in her long, straightened hair. They did make an attractive couple.

  Halfway down the Lebanese coast, they stopped for lunch at a beachside resort. The cool ocean air provided slight relief to the blazing middle east sun. Jay joined Antonio and Renee for lunch. CJ and Madman ate in the Land Rover while Benoit and Moses patrolled the resort grounds. To an outsider, Antonio appeared to be a well-known celebrity with a team of bodyguards. Not too far from the truth.

  Jay sipped sparkling water with Antonio while Renee freshened up in the ladies’ room.

  “Your Israeli friend seems to be enjoying her new job,” Antonio said. “She seems to relish the role as my female companion.”

  “She’s supposed to be your Marketing Director, not your escort,” Jay said with a smirk. “But yes, she does look amazing. A true transformation from the Wall Street look she exhibited in her interview.”