Jet 04: Reckoning

by Russell Blake

  They needed more information. And she needed to rein in her impatience. Her desire to end this and get back to Hannah couldn’t affect her judgment. This would take however long it took.

  The hours ticked by, and soon Alan was back, looking markedly worse for wear.

  “Did you sleep any? Or were you online, trying to figure out how to get to Peter?”

  “Guilty. I can sleep this afternoon. I’m rested. Don’t worry about me,” he assured her.

  She wasn’t his mother, so she let it go. He was a big boy, and had as much or more experience as she did. It wasn’t her role to nag him. “Fine. I’ll be back at ten.”

  “What are you coming as this time? You’ve done hippie, jailbait…what’s next?”

  “I’ll surprise you. It’ll keep the relationship fresh. I read how important that is in a magazine.”

  He eyed her. “Try to get some sleep. It won’t do us any good if we’re both exhausted. Stay off the computer until you wake up. Promise me that,” Alan counseled.

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “I like it when you call me that. Maybe later? And wear the juvenile delinquent outfit?”

  She gave him a sweet smile, and then slid away into the night without comment.

  ~ ~ ~

  After four hours of sleep, Jet bolted awake, but whatever had intruded into her psyche flitted away. The more she tried to remember what it was, which she vaguely sensed had been important, the less distinct it was. She hated when her mind did that to her, and she knew that not remembering would drive her crazy.

  She sat up, hugging a pillow to her chest, her knees drawn up, thick gray athletic socks bunched around her ankles, and stared at the monotone darkness of the far wall. It had been something to do with the stakeout. With Arthur? No, that wasn’t it. Maybe it was about Peter, and the discussion she’d had with Alan about him?

  Like a thick fog, reality intruded into her dream state, and as she became more alert the thought, whatever it was, had receded to nothing.

  It would do no good to force it. She knew from experience that never worked. It was like a cruel god’s way of jabbing her with a sharp stick.

  Jet snapped the bedside light on and looked around the room, her eyes eventually landing on the computer. She glanced at the bedside clock. Just after eight A.M.

  I will not get sucked into the computer. I won’t do it. I will try to get some more sleep.

  The mantra failed to work, and obeying a compulsion, she let herself be drawn to the screen. There was so much to do. And the more research she did, the faster they could get the assault on Arthur’s over with, be out of the U.S., and back to Hannah. Finally safe, with nobody out to get her.

  And then what?

  The thought came unbidden, and she brushed it aside. The last thing she needed to do was agonize over the future.

  Against her better judgment, she rose and moved to the computer. It couldn’t hurt to just spend a few minutes on it. Maybe it would help her remember…the thing. Which she had no idea about now.

  Resigned to being awake again, she padded to the shower and turned on the blasting stream, stepped beneath it, and let the spray caress her body. At least something was caressing it. Alan hadn’t been around to do much of that since they’d hit the States. Correction. Any of that.

  After a few minutes of primping, she returned to the table and considered the computer, calling to her with its irresistible siren song. It was pointless to fight it. The computer would win. She’d known that since she’d set eyes on it after waking up.

  Jet pulled out the chair and sat, then hit the power button. What was it about the computer she was supposed to do?

  Ah. The flash drive. She was going to see whether there was anything in Sloan’s records that would help her hack into his company’s computers. She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Peter, and exacting a terrible vengeance upon Arthur, that she’d spaced out on trying to get into the servers to see what, if anything, the company had on Arthur’s complex.

  She switched on the TV and turned to a local news program, keeping one eye on the screen while she scanned the records. No reports of Sloan being found yet. That was a positive. But she knew it was just a matter of time until someone became alarmed that he hadn’t communicated with anyone for days, and called the authorities. Alan and Jet would need to get to Arthur before that happened, because once Sloan’s corpse was discovered, a paranoid shut-in like Arthur would see threats behind every tree. Not that he would be wrong. But it would make a difficult job impossible if he put even more men on the guard detail and stepped up their vigilance.

  She tapped at the keyboard and scanned the files, looking for something, anything, that would give her an edge.

  ~ ~ ~

  A twig snapping startled Alan from his surveillance of the house, and he exhaled noisily when he saw it was Jet.

  “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry. Trying to keep you on your toes.”

  “Not much of a disguise today. What happened?”

  “Didn’t have time to go shopping for my hooker outfit.” She smiled. “You need to get some sleep. Get out of here. I gather that you wrote down all the shift info?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure how much good it will do. These guys are good. Better than most.”

  “All right, then. Back to the hotel with you. I’m going to go find a new position to watch from. I don’t want to make anything easy for them.”

  “Call me later. Six more hours?”

  She studied his unshaven face. “Maybe eight. You look like you could use some serious down time.”

  He didn’t disagree. “Anything on the computer?” he asked.

  “I’m working on something. I think I figured out how to get into the company servers. If I can, and they’re handling the security, we should be able to get a full breakdown of what we’re up against. But I didn’t have enough time. I’ll do it this evening.”

  “Okay. I’m outta here. Have a good day.”

  Once Alan was gone, she hoisted her backpack and moved to the edge of the old cemetery, taking care to spread a towel on a flat patch of ground. She’d opted for only sunglasses and a hat today – no elaborate disguises. Given that nobody had noticed her over the last two days, she didn’t feel like she needed one. She lay on her stomach and lifted the binoculars.

  At least the weather had held. It would have been lousy to have been doing surveillance in the rain. Hopefully the mild temperature was an auspicious omen – the gods of spying were smiling on their project.

  A chill went up her spine and the hair on her arms stood on end as a shadow fell across her. Instantly alert, she rolled as she reached into her bag for the silenced pistol, and whipped it out as a man approached from the woods, dressed in head-to-toe camouflage. Jet trained the weapon on him and then her face registered shock as she struggled with coming face to face with the impossible. She blinked, incredulous, and she fought to keep her face composed.

  “You!”

  The man kept coming, and then dropped to one knee a few feet from her.

  “You really going to shoot me? What kind of greeting is that?” he whispered, his eyes roving over her face. “I only recognized you this morning. The other days fooled me.”

  “You’re alive?” she stammered, lowering the pistol and returning it to her backpack. “What are you doing here?”

  Matt nodded. “Looks like the same as you. Only I’ve been at it for about a week longer. The question is, what brings you to this neck of the woods? Why haven’t you stayed gone?”

  “You were dead. The beach house. The fire…”

  “Three men came in the middle of the night. I managed to get them before they could get me. But I needed to drop out and buy myself time to figure out what had gone wrong. I had no way of getting in touch with you, otherwise I would have. But you’d gone dark. Which brings us to today.”

  She studied his drawn face, etched with fatigue lines, and felt her eyes moisten, and
then she sat up, unsure of how to respond. Seized by an impulse she didn’t fully understand, she leaned towards him and threw her arms around him. He drew her close and held her, one tentative hand smoothing her hair, and then the moment passed and she pulled away.

  “It’s so good to see you. I mean, I…I thought you were dead,” Jet repeated, her tone a combination of relief and…something else. Apologetic. “You kind of stink. How long have you been out here?”

  “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. I’ve been sleeping five hours a day, and spending the rest of my time here, looking for holes in Arthur’s defenses. Who you were supposed to have killed, if I’m not mistaken.” A slight tinge of chastisement in the last words.

  “I left him for dead. It’s a kind of ugly miracle that he’s still alive. Barely, if my information is correct. That will be the last and only time I don’t put a bullet in an enemy’s brain myself.”

  “I’m guessing you’re here because he somehow found you, and tried to do the same thing that his people tried to do to me.”

  “Correct.”

  “But you’re fine. And your daughter, Hannah? Is that right?”

  “Good memory. She’s okay. In hiding till this is over.”

  An uncomfortable silence settled over them.

  “Where were you living?” he finally asked.

  “Uruguay. How about you?”

  “Sri Lanka. How’s Uruguay?”

  “Nice. But not for much longer. Time to move after everything that’s happened.”

  “Where to? If you don’t mind my asking?”

  She stared at the house, lost in thought. “I don’t honestly know.”

  “Huh. I think I’m going to be living in that same neighborhood. Assuming I can rid the world of one scar-faced bastard in the very near future.”

  “That was my thought, too.”

  “What’s your plan?” Matt asked.

  “Beyond killing him? I haven’t developed one yet. How are you fixed for gathering intel? Things like blueprints, layout, dossiers?” she asked.

  “Pretty good. I still have a few contacts who are loyal to me. They’ve given me more than you could wish for. But for one person to handle, it’s grim. Chances of getting in and out are slim to none.” Matt paused, seemingly deep in thought. “Boy, if only I knew where I could find a pair of trained field operatives to help…”

  “So you spotted Alan, too?”

  “What kind of super spy would I be if I’d missed him?” Matt asked, and then grinned.

  She nodded. “It’s really good to see you, Matt,” she said softly.

  He nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “Same here.”

  Chapter 34

  Jet was conflicted as she lay near Matt, watching the house, time flying by, her thoughts in turmoil. She was with Alan; but that spark, that intensity, was still there with Matt, stronger than ever. It was so crazy. All they’d ever done was kiss. It made no sense. And yet her heart was beating like a schoolgirl’s, and she felt flustered and flushed.

  Why had the universe thrown this monkey wrench into her existence? Weren’t things already complicated enough?

  “What’s your life been like, since…” Jet asked.

  “About what you’d expect. Getting off the island, making my way undetected to Bangkok, getting some of the diamonds.” He glanced at her profile. “That reminds me. Do you still have the diamonds I gave you?”

  Her eyes flashed. “What do you think?”

  “I’m betting you still have every one.”

  “Good bet.”

  “Anyway, I fell off the face of the earth, and then I got angry. I realized that some of the group’s leadership must have made it, and that meant I had unfinished business. I spent a few months trying to ignore what my gut was telling me, and then I got in touch with my contact at Langley who’d helped you out with your operation here…and the rest is history. I got in town two weeks ago, tracked down Arthur with her help, and I’ve been watching the house ever since. He never leaves, you know.”

  “I was afraid of that,” she muttered.

  “It’s a tough one. He knows what he’s doing, and so do his men.”

  “Probably has a lot of enemies.”

  “He should.”

  “Any idea who those two were that visited yesterday?”

  “No.”

  “And what about the guy in the monkey suit who seems to be there twenty-four hours a day?”

  “Name’s Standish. His Boy Friday. Does everything for him, handles his affairs, fiercely loyal. He’d gladly take a bullet for him,” Matt said.

  “I’ll add him to the list.”

  She rubbed her face, and then turned to face Matt. “You’ve been watching him for, what, a week? Have you learned anything that will help us?”

  “Maybe. But there are a lot of pieces that I still need to fit together. I don’t have enough information to be confident. Not yet. There are some important details I haven’t gotten my hands on – the most critical being the security precautions. The electronics. I’ve got blueprints for the house, a layout of the lot, but I can’t be sure what he’s got hiding in the grass.”

  “Funny you should mention that. I’m working on getting a detailed description of all of it,” she said.

  He paused. “Say what?”

  “You heard me,” she replied.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “I’ve been too busy out here. Sorry.”

  “Can I make a suggestion? Let’s combine our resources. We’re both after the same thing. Between my intel and yours, we might just be able to come up with a way to crack this nut. It’s either that, or I’m going to try to get my hands on a rocket and fire it into the bastard’s bedroom. Assuming he’s in there. I wouldn’t put anything past him. Probably hanging upside down in the basement, like a bat,” Matt grumbled.

  “I’m game. We’re not making a lot of progress as is.”

  “We. Who’s the guy you’re with?”

  Jet thought about how to describe Alan. “Ex-Mossad. Same team I belonged to. It’s a long story. Complicated. A lot of stuff happened since I went to Ko Samui to see you that day.”

  “The day of the fire.”

  “Yes. I stood and watched them digging through the wreckage. Thinking you were dead.”

  “I’m sorry. I would have left some kind of a message, but I was busy running for my life. Like I said, I tried to contact you later, but your phone was dead and you’d disappeared into thin air.”

  “I know, Matt. I’m not blaming you. But things got weird after that. I had more problems.”

  She told him about Grigenko’s son, and Yemen, and the terrorist strike. It took a while.

  “Good Lord. So that whole thing was a ruse? Planned by people in the government?”

  She nodded, and they lapsed back into silence.

  “You’re not making this up,” Matt said. She didn’t answer. “No, I suppose not. You’re not really the type to invent drama, are you? Then you’re in deeper shit than even I am.”

  “Like I said. A lot happened, and it’s all complicated.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. On top of the Arthur mess, we’ve got an even bigger problem now.”

  “What? A meteor heading towards us that will eradicate all life on earth?”

  “How about those same powerful people in the government who planned the bio-attack wanting Alan dead, and being willing to kill thousands to do it?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Jet took him through the rest of it. By the time she was done, he was shaking his head.

  “Maybe I should move over a few feet. Seems to me that it’s dangerous hanging around you. No disrespect intended.” He smiled, his eyes tired.

  “Welcome to my little slice of heaven.”

  They spent another ten minutes in silence.

  “I don’t see much reason to stick around here, do you?” Matt said. “After a
week of watching the guards, I have their routine down pat.”

  She looked at her watch. “We might be better off with me getting into the security company’s servers, if you’ve already done all the heavy lifting on the ground,” Jet agreed.

  “Let me go get my stuff. I want to meet your partner in crime. I can take him through everything I’ve done while you’re there. Kill two birds with one stone. No pun intended.”

  Jet appeared conflicted and then nodded. “Meet you on the other side of the cemetery in five, Rambo.”

  She packed her gear while her mind raced over the day’s revelations.

  Matt, alive. An ally with a week’s worth of intelligence to add to their pile, as well as access to the CIA’s innermost secrets, who was more than a little field-experienced. Things were looking brighter on their chances to get Arthur soon, but she wasn’t reassured. Matt being alive raised some difficult issues. Would she have ever gotten involved with Alan if she’d known? She didn’t want to consider the answer. Better to keep her eye on the ball until all of this was over. Nothing good would come from dwelling on what might have been.

  Matt was waiting for her by the graveyard wall, carrying an oversized backpack.

  “How are you fixed for weapons?” she asked as they trudged through the park.

  “Good. I have a guy I’ve known for thirty years. He got me a full-auto M4 with a night vision scope and sound suppressor, and a silenced pistol. He’s working on some grenades. Should have them tonight.”

  “Can you get in touch with him and see if he can get his hands on another M4 suppressor, as well as one for a H&K MP7? And maybe some extra magazines, and some flash bangs?”

  “Sure. But how did you get your hands on that kind of firepower? They don’t exactly sell that stuff on Amazon.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got nothing but time. Try me.”

  When she was finished, he was quiet.

  “I really probably shouldn’t have asked. And this Sloan – nobody’s found the body yet?”

  “No, but that’s another time bomb. Once they do, you can bet Arthur’s going to go ballistic and call in the Third Army Infantry to protect him, and any chance of getting within a mile of the compound undetected will be out of the question. We’re racing the clock on that.”