“What type of arms?” Christine asked.
“Primarily high tech revolvers. But they also produce some rifles. All are illegal in the US. Our New York branch has been handling the main investigation for about a year now and will continue to do so, since they are closest to the company’s main headquarters where we think the majority of the weapons are produced. But they want us to establish for certain whether the Portland office is connected in some way. As such, they’ve arranged a purchase and an exchange. The three of you will meet Mr. Harrison in Portland at 9:00 pm tonight. He will have a sample weapon with him, a revolver. Michael, you will meet him and pay him for it, then return it to us for analysis and assessment.”
“Are we to apprehend Harrison after the exchange?” Michael asked.
“No. Simply make the exchange, then depart. The New York office wants to examine the gun and make certain it matches the ones produced in New York. If it does, it will link the two offices. And that’s all we are trying to accomplish at this point. Establishing the link. After that is done, New York will take over and decide what to do next.”
They all nodded. To Kiana, it seemed simple enough. “If my dad is in charge of the exchange, what are our roles?”
“Like usual, backup. Just in case something goes wrong during the exchange. And for you, I want you to get some more experience in the field. You did a great job during your assignments in Bellingham and Chiang Mai, but there is still much to learn.”
Kiana nodded.
“Any additional questions?” Beckman asked.
They all shook their heads.
“Your flight to Portland leaves in an hour. Don’t be late.”
They rose from their seats, said curt goodbyes, and headed on their way.
At 9:00 pm that night, everything was progressing according to plan. The three of them had arrived in Portland, Oregon and had made it to the exchange point, which was a small microbrewery/tavern a few blocks away from Portland’s sports arena. Michael went inside and took a seat at a booth near the building’s front, where Kiana could see him through the front windows. In the meantime, Christine went to another booth, a few feet away, and Kiana got a table at a small café directly across the street, at one of its outside tables. As far as she was concerned, it was the perfect spot because she could see everything that was happening and she could get to the microbrewery’s front door quickly if needed.
And it was.
Things went poorly from the start. The informant, Harrison, was twenty minutes late. He was a man in his mid-thirties, mostly bald, but with some hair on each side of his head, and he was wearing a suit that had probably been nice at one point but looked as though it hadn’t seen much care in recent months (if not years). It was badly wrinkled and had a small tear on the left arm of the jacket just above the elbow. Harrison himself was jumpy and erratic from the start, and he looked like he hadn’t slept for a week. There were large bags under both of his eyes and his face was covered with stubble. He carried a silver briefcase in one hand.
He sat down at Michael’s booth and immediately started babbling. As was standard procedure on missions like that one, Michael was wearing a hidden microphone so Kiana and Christine could listen in on his conversation and know exactly what was going on. He could also use it to give them commands as needed. Kiana adjusted her earpiece so she could hear everything a little better. The microbrewery was busy and there was a lot of background noise so it forced her to concentrate really hard to hear things well.
“I think they’re onto me,” Harrison said. “Someone at Jergensen knows I’m dealing with you.”
“Why do you say that?” Michael asked.
“They’ve been following me all week.”
“Who?”
“Those men.”
He pointed out the restaurant’s front window, to two men who were standing on a nearby sidewalk. Both were tall, bearded, and wore long, black overcoats. One was quite a bit heavier than the other.
Michael took a quick look at them, then turned back to Harrison. “Did you bring the package?”
Harrison nodded. He handed the silver briefcase to Michael, who popped it open, took a quick look inside, then closed it again. From her vantage point across the street, Kiana couldn’t see its contents but Michael didn’t look alarmed or surprised in any way so she assumed the contents were exactly as expected (the high tech, illegal revolver).
“I brought your money,” Michael said.
“I don’t want the money,” Harrison said. “Screw the money. They’re onto me. Once they find out I made this delivery they’re probably going to kill me. You’ve got to protect me. When I agreed to work with your agency they assured me you’d protect me if needed.”
Michael took another look at the two men and saw they were both looking through the window at him.
“We will. Come with me.”
Both of them stood and headed for the tavern’s rear. They rounded a corner at the end of the row of booths and disappeared from Kiana’s line of site. For a minute she got nervous, since things were no longer going according to plan, but then she heard Michael’s voice in her earpiece.
“Christine, Kiana. We’re going to slip out the back and see if we can lose the two meatheads out front. Monitor them and keep me apprised of their whereabouts at all times.”
“Should I intercept them?” Kiana asked. From her spot at the café, she could do so easily. They were directly across the street from her. And they had their backs to her, so she had a clear advantage on them. If needed, she could shoot them in the back with her tranquilizer gun and they’d probably never know what had hit them.
“No. Do not engage them unless absolutely necessary. I want to keep this op as quiet as possible until we get further instructions from Beckman.”
“I have a clear shot. I can take them out. Both of them.”
“No. We don’t know who we’re dealing with. And there may be more of them nearby. Repeat, do not engage unless absolutely necessary.”
Christine emerged from the bar a few seconds later and took a place next to its front door, about twenty feet from the two men. She pretended to be talking on her cell phone.
Unfortunately, the two men didn’t remain still for long. As soon as they realized Michael and Harrison had left their booth, they headed around the tavern’s side, down the adjacent alley. Kiana’s eyes got large as one of them pulled a pistol from inside his jacket.
“They’re on the move. They’re heading down the alley on the east side of the building. And they’re armed. The heavy one has a pistol.”
“Good work, Kiana,” Michael said. “Keep me posted. We’re leaving the building now. We’re heading down the back alley directly away from them.”
Christine immediately headed in the opposite direction. Clearly, she intended to go down the far alley, the one on the building’s west side. As such, Kiana decided to go the other way and trail the men, so that way she and Christine would have them trapped in between and could confront them from both sides if needed. She drew her pistol from her shoulder holster, headed across the street, and entered the alley just as the two men had reached its far end.
“They’ve reached the back of the building. They’re going down the back alley. Hopefully you’re clear.”
“We are. We’ve gone down a side street to the north. We’re going to loop back around, then take the car. I’ll come back for the two of you later, after I’ve delivered Harrison to a local safehouse. In the meantime, you –”
His voice was drowned out by the sound of gunshots. Somehow, the two men had spotted Christine, who had ducked behind a dumpster and had been watching them from afar. The first bullet they fired bounced off of the dumpster in front of her, and the second hit the wall behind her, sending chunks of brick flying in all directions. Kiana immediately turned the corner into the back alley and ran toward them. The men were half way down the alley and since they were focused on Christine they were completely unaware of her approaching
them.
“Report?” Michael asked. He and Harrison were an entire block away, to the north, but they could hear the gunshots anyway. “Christine. Kiana. What’s going on?”
Kiana wanted to respond but there was no time. The men fired at Christine again, several times. She returned fire but was forced to duck for cover when a bullet hit the wall to her side, missing her head by less than a foot. Shards of brick and wood from the nearby wall sprayed all over her.
Kiana had finally gotten into range and she stopped abruptly, raised her pistol, and fired at the man on the right, who was the heavier of the two. Her shot was a good one and it hit him exactly where she had intended, right on the back of the neck. Instinctively, he reached up to see what had happened and pulled the dart free. But already it was too late for him as the dart’s toxin had entered his bloodstream. He stumbled to the right and fell to the ground in an unconscious heap. His partner saw what had happened and spun around to confront the new assailant. Kiana took aim and squeezed her trigger just as he did the same. She smiled briefly as she realized she had hit him straight in the chest, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he fell face-first onto the pavement in front of her.
She was happy. The op hadn’t gone according to plan, not at all, but at least they had been able to neutralize the two men quickly. As such, any danger was over.
Or was it?
It was at that point she remembered something. The second man had fired his gun at her just as she had fired at him. Had he missed her completely? If so, he was a terrible shot because they hadn’t been that far apart.
It was at that point she looked down for the first time and her eyes grew large with fright. The entire inside of her right leg, from the thigh down, was covered with blood. The minute she saw it, torrents of pain started to course through her body. She stumbled to the side, dropped her gun onto the concrete below her, and fell to the ground. She had never seen so much blood in her entire life and it was already forming a large pool directly beneath her. Only faintly did she hear Christine’s voice in her earpiece.
“Michael. I need assistance now. The hostiles are neutralized but Kiana is hit. I repeat. Kiana is hit.”
A second later, as Kiana rolled around uncontrollably on the ground, consumed by the pain (it felt like her entire leg had been blown off), she felt a hand grab her by the shoulder and roll her onto her back.
It was Christine.
“I’ve got you. I know it hurts, but trust me, you’ll be okay.”
Christine removed her coat and belt and wrapped them around Kiana’s injured leg to help slow the bleeding. Kiana screamed in pain as Christine wrenched the belt as tightly as she could around Kiana’s upper thigh. It was a crude tourniquet, and not a very good one at all, but it was the best Christine could do under the circumstances.
A few seconds later, Michael appeared in their car, racing down the alley with Harrison in the seat next to him. The two men jumped out, grabbed Kiana by the arms and pulled her into the backseat. A few seconds later, they raced off toward the nearest hospital. It only took a few minutes to get there but to Kiana it seemed like an eternity. The pain was intense and she was starting to get disoriented and light-headed (which no doubt was from the loss of so much blood).
Minutes later, she was wheeled into an emergency room on a stretcher and a doctor took over from there. He removed Christine’s coat and began treating Kiana’s wound. Much to Kiana’s relief, he gave her some much-needed pain medications, and it must have been something strong because it immediately made her feel a lot better.
Luckily, the injury wasn’t nearly as bad as Kiana had originally thought. The bullet had hit her on the inside of the thigh and had exited the back of her leg, just below her right buttock. While going through, it had done no major damage and had missed her femur completely. As such, it required a serious cleaning and a bunch of sutures, both at the entrance and exit points, but other than that the doctor expected a quick and full recovery. Kiana would be required to stay at the hospital for a day or two for further monitoring but after that she would be free to return home.
A few hours later, they all sat in a hospital room, with Kiana in a bed recovering (it gave her flashbacks to the car accident in Anaheim). Michael was on the phone on the far side of the room, making arrangements to have Harrison transferred to a USIA safehouse, when Beckman walked into the room.
“I came as soon as I could.” She walked up to Kiana. “How are you doing, young lady?”
“I’ve had better days. But I’m okay. Still high as a kite, though. So I apologize in advance if I seem a little goofy. The meds they gave me are something else.”
“Given the circumstances, I’ll cut you some slack. Hang in there and you’ll be okay. I’ve already made calls to two of our specialists at the agency and they’ll be arriving within the hour. I know you’ve already received some care here and it sounds like they did a good job with you but I want our people to check you out anyway just to be safe.”
“Thanks,” Kiana said.
There was a brief pause before Beckman spoke again. “I must admit. I didn’t expect you to become a real agent quite so quickly.”
Kiana raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know what Beckman was talking about.
“A real agent?”
“In my day, you weren’t considered a real agent until you got shot for the first time. So now it’s official. You’re like the rest of us. You’re a real agent.”
Kiana didn’t really know what to say so she was silent for a few seconds. But then something came to mind.
“You’ve been shot?”
Beckman nodded. “Three times. Twice in the arm and once in the side. The arm injuries were no big deal, really just flesh wounds, but the one in the side happened when I was on assignment in Turkey, back in the nineties. I was laid up for about two months after that. It was nasty.”
“That’s nothing,” Christine said. She turned to Michael. “Remember that time I got shot on assignment in Romania? That was bad. I was out of action for six months.”
At that, they started exchanging war stories, about their various injuries, and Kiana was surprised to hear that even Michael had been shot, on two different occasions. She had known about the one time when he was in Detroit, but not about the other. His injuries hadn’t ever been too bad, but it did spread new light on the nasty scar he had on his left arm just below his elbow. He had always told Kiana it was an old football injury, but really it was a gunshot wound from a mission that had gone wrong just outside of Dallas. Apparently it had happened a couple of years before Kiana had been born.
Kiana liked the attention and the care she was receiving (Michael ordered her some ice cream and of course it made her feel a little better), and she was happy she was now, apparently, ‘part of the gang.’ At the same time, however, she had no desire to get any more injuries, especially additional gunshot wounds. As far as she was concerned, one gunshot wound was more than enough and she planned to stay out of the path of any additional bullets for a long, long time.
Chapter 34
It took Kiana three weeks to fully recover from her gunshot wound. As expected, her softball coach, Marv, nearly had a hernia when he learned that one of his newest (and best) players was lost for that long, but, ultimately, there was nothing he could do so he wished her the best and hoped for a full recovery. Of course she couldn’t tell him, or anyone else for that matter, what had really happened and she made up a story about how she had pulled her hamstring while practicing with Michael at a local park.
In the meantime, Beckman was happy with the outcome of their assignment despite the fact it had gone sideways. They had managed to get the gun from Harrison and it had allowed the USIA’s New York office to successfully link Jergensen’s Portland and New York branches.
“What are they going to do next?” Kiana asked.
“I’m not certain,” Beckman said. “That’s for them to decide. But they’re grateful for our assistance and they said they’
ll contact us again if they need anything more.”
Kiana sat there, across the desk from her, silent for several seconds. She wasn’t completely happy with Beckman’s answer.
Beckman saw the unease in her face and smiled. “This is a good lesson for you, Kiana. Being a spy in real life isn’t the same as you see in the movies. In the movies, the main character is always involved in the main plot and he always finds out what happens in the end. He may get fooled on occasion by a plot twist or two, but ultimately he puts it all together. In real life, however, it’s not like that, at least not too often. Most of the time, we field agents just play a small part in a much bigger operation. We do what is asked of us, when it’s asked, and sometimes we never know what we’re really doing or why. To be honest, you and I may never know what becomes of this Jergensen company. But we have to have faith the people in charge of the main operation, the people in New York, will handle things properly. And we have to take pride in the fact that no matter how small our part was, we did what we were asked and we did it to the best of our abilities.”
Kiana nodded. She wasn’t certain she really liked it a lot but at least she now understood.
“So, once again,” Beckman said, “good job. But from now on, please do me a favor.”
“What?”
“When someone shoots a bullet at you, jump out of the way.”
They both laughed.
“I’ll do my best. But sometimes it’s easier said than done.”
“I know. You’re a good girl, Kiana, and you’re going to be a great agent. Maybe the best we’ve ever had. As such, please take care of yourself and stay out of trouble. I will contact you shortly with another assignment. Until then, you’re dismissed.”
Kiana got up, gave Beckman one last nod, and left.
Chapter 35
Everyone has a day they would like to forget. For most people, on that day something bad happens, like they fail a test at school, or they get in a fender bender during their drive to work, or they get bad news during a medical exam. For Kiana, December 6 was that day.
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