Dual Assassins

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Dual Assassins Page 7

by Edward Vogler


  Yung pointed to the wall and said, “In the next room.”

  Jim walked to the closet and retrieved and slipped on his coat. His forehead was wet with perspiration, not from the supposed diarrhea but from his nerves, but it made a good cover.

  They walked to the door and Yung rose on her tiptoes wrapped one arm around Jim’s neck and kissed him. Her other hand found its way to his crotch and gently squeezed. “Come back when you can, I want to see you…okay?”

  “Yes, of course. We’ll have a good time.” He exited the room and she closed the door behind him. He rushed to Kim’s room next door and softly knocked. When no one answered, he studied the door lock and reached into his inside pocket and withdrew a Lock Pick set. He pulled out two instruments and within a few seconds, the door was unlocked.

  He opened the door and entered the room, closed the door behind him, and quickly check out the room. A briefcase sat on the desktop and he raised the unlocked lid and saw a Russian passport. He opened the passport and saw Kim’s photo and name inside.

  He’d thought he was a Korean or maybe Chinese, but never expected him to be Russian. He replaced the passport in the briefcase and closed the lid. He began to cross the floor to the door when the interior door between the two rooms opened and in walked Yung.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. Jim?”

  Jim turned to Yung and cringed, “I wanted to apologize to Kim about me leaving early. I knocked on his door which was unlocked. I pushed it and it opened so I walked inside.”

  Yung wearing a full thick robe stood with both hands on her hips, “Kim not like this. He not be happy.”

  “What will it take for you not to tell Kim that I was in his room? That would be very embarrassing.”

  She slowly walked toward Jim, looked up and said, “I have to tell him.”

  Jim reached into his pocket and withdrew five stacks of $100 bills. “Here is five thousand U.S. dollars. Would that be enough not to tell him,” He cradled the money in two hands and extended his arm forward to Yung.

  Yung raised her eyebrows but remained focused on the money. “Five thousand…American?” she said.

  “Yes, all yours if you forget that I was ever here.”

  She took the money and began to flip through the bills. She raised her head and stared at Jim. “Okay, you leave now. But when you return, you bring me more money.”

  “I agree,” and Yung walked to the door and flung it open. Jim rushed to the waiting car in front of the hotel.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The day of Henderson’s scheduled meeting finally arrived and Denny had not yet reported for work. When Jim noticed Nickerson still in the embassy talking with his partner, he decided to hightail out to the new, undisclosed meeting place without waiting for Denny. He emerged from the embassy and took the elevator to the first floor. He exited the elevator, then the rear doors of the hotel into the parking lot. The pavement was already wet. Thunder rumbled in the distance as dark clouds were rolling in fast for another round of rain. A mist was in the air and Jim shivered. He kept his .9mm pistol in his belt under his jacket and a small semi-auto pistol in his ankle holster. He drove to the new meeting location and parked the car a half block away. As he approached the building, two uniformed Korean guards with rifles at their sides talked and laughed while they stood at the front door.

  Jim walked around the corner and down a side street and doubled back to the rear of the building. He approached the building and when he rose to the balls of his feet, he was able to peer through the windows. The rooms were empty and dark since the interior lights were off. The darkness of a gloomy day didn’t help either.

  Jim found one unlocked window. He picked up an empty box lying in the yard and carried it to the window. He stood on the box, raised the window and climbed inside, carefully closing the window behind him. He tiptoed to the large room which was open to the second floor and was bordered by a wooden railing. The rooms were located on the outside wall. He walked to the small front room where he previously stood and listened to Nickerson talk with his partner.

  Jim walked to the far end of the room and entered a louvered door storage closet. Several shelves contained dust covered paper products. He turned around and closed the door behind him. Peeking through the louvers he could view the small room and the foyer and a portion of the front doors. He heard some Korean voices but didn’t see anyone. Some men were definitely in the building. Muffling a sneeze caused by the dust and old paper, he suddenly heard English speaking voices. Jim squinted through the slats and saw Nickerson and his partner enter the front door and enter the large room beyond.

  That’s it, this was definitely Henderson’s meeting place. Jim opened the door and walked through the small room toward the front door. Nickerson spun around and saw Jim walking in his direction.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” snapped Nickerson in a raised voice.

  “I just came here to help…that’s all,” answered Jim.

  “How did you find out about this place? It’s classified.”

  “Are you kidding? Heck, Bill, half of the city knows about this place.”

  “I told you I didn’t need any help. What don’t you understand about that?”

  “I’m just doing my job, that’s all…no more and no less.”

  Nickerson’s jaw clenched and he studied Jim coldly for a few seconds, then said, “Well, you’re here, you might as well stay. Just keep out of my way. Can you do that?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Nickerson turned to his partner, “Tom, go upstairs and make sure everything is clear.” Tom didn’t respond but walked over to the stairs by the front door, flicked on the light switch turning on the second floor lights. The stairs creaked with every step he took.

  Nickerson turned to Jim, “Flyboys are weak. We all know that. Whatever you do, make sure you’re always behind me.”

  “Whatever you say, I’d—”

  “Pop, pop,” echoed loudly through the building. Jim felt the pressure in his ears and instinctively dropped to the floor. When he looked up, Bill was still standing, eyes searching upward for movement.

  “Get down, Bill, get down.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Flyboy. I’m used to this stuff. “Hey Tom,” Bill yelled. “Are you—” Another loud crack echoed in the room. Jim looked up at Bill who had a far off stare and a round hole in his forehead. He collapsed to the floor in a heap. Blood poured from his head, spreading into a pool on the floor.

  A Korean guard rushed through the front doorway directly into the spacious room, carrying his large automatic rifle. Jim ran to the foyer and peeked around the doorway. The guard looked up and whirled around, looking for the shooter when another shot was fired. Jim spotted the muzzle flash on the second floor then, a second later, the guard crumpled to the floor. Jim jumped to his feet, drew his pistol, threw off his jacket and dashed to the stairs. He raced upward two steps at a time until he reached the top. While lying on the stairs, he peered over the top stair tread, looking for movement. He had to neutralize the building before Henderson arrived. When he didn’t see anyone, he slowly and quietly crawled on his belly until he reached the wall that contained the three doors, then jumped to his feet. From the way Bill and the guard were shot, Jim knew the shooter had to be on the right hand side in one of the three rooms. The doors to those rooms remained open. Jim hugged the wall, his arms stretched out horizontally. He crept toward the first doorway, then with his pistol level in front of him, he slid into the room and fell to one knee aiming his pistol. But the room was empty. His heart was pounding. Sweat dripped from his face and trickled down the back of his neck.

  He moved back to the door, peeked around the door frame, but didn’t see anything. He stepped out of the room and continued to hug the wall, slowly tiptoeing toward the next open doorway. As he approached the door opening, he spotted the barrel of a pistol protruding about one inch past the door frame. Jim slowly raised his pistol with his left hand and raise
d it over his head flush with the wall. He swung the pistol downward around the door frame and smashed it into the hand that held the pistol. Both pistols flew to the floor. Jim hurled himself on top of the shooter and they fell to the floor. They exchanged punches, then struggled to their feet. The shooter punched Jim hard in his abdomen, then he felt a knee crushing into his testicles. Excruciating pain radiated through his groin, like the worst migraine headache ever but this time in his crotch. He doubled over but he had learned to fight through his own pain. He slammed his fist into the shooter’s abdomen. “Oomph,” came from the shooter. It buckled the man. Jim brought his knee upward driving into his face, knocking him upright and staggering backwards. Jim leaped forward and swung but the shooter recoiled and ducked. Then the side of Jim’s face took a direct hit. The jarring pain vibrated through his head. The shooter charged, but Jim karate-chopped his neck. The shooter’s hands flew to his neck. Jim got behind the shooter and wrapped his arm around the shooter’s neck, locking his arms and pressing against his carotid arteries.

  The shooter tried to pull Jim’s arms apart but he maintained the pressure. Jim felt the fight leaving the shooter’s body. He became limp but Jim held on for a few additional moments before he let him drop to the floor. He wanted to learn who the shooter worked for, but that was no longer possible as his carotids no longer registered a pulse.

  Jim leaned against the wall, his head aching and his vision blurry. He also felt nauseous from that nasty groin kick. Jim looked at the shooter and smiled grimly. “At least you don’t have any more pain.”

  After checking the shooter for identification and finding none, he left him and recovered his pistol. He checked the balance of the second floor which was empty. He dashed downstairs and dragged Nickerson’s body farther into the side room. He then proceeded to check the rest of the first floor rooms and found them empty. He went to the front door to check on the other guard, but he was gone.

  Nobody else was here. This whole thing was a ruse to get Henderson assassinated.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jim was about to leave when he heard a car pull up in front of the building. He darted to the front window and a U.S. government staff car pulled up. He beamed when he saw Reanna exit the car and open the door for Henderson. Denny then exited from the driver’s door and walked behind Henderson and Reanna to the building.

  He was awed again with her beauty. It had been too long. She opened the front door, allowing Henderson to enter.

  “What are you doing here?” said Henderson with a sneer when he spotted Jim. Without waiting for a response, he said, “This is Yana Dolinsky,” and he swung his arm toward Reanna.

  Jim admired his beautiful bride and grinned.

  Reanna smiled and with eyes that sparkled said, “Glad to meet you, Mr. Wilson.”

  “Where is everybody?” Henderson bellowed. “Isn’t anybody here yet?”

  “There’s been a problem here sir,” said Jim. “There was some kind of mix-up—.”

  “I don’t want to hear about any kind of mix-up. Where is everybody?” He strutted into the large center room.

  Jim and Reanna looked at each other as she followed Henderson into the room.

  Henderson stopped in his tracks and cringed. His eyes widened and he babbled, “A body, a body, there’s a body here.”

  Jim looked at Reanna. “Go help him. The building is secured.”

  Reanna hurried to the center room. “It’s okay now, sir. There were some problems here before we arrived. You’re safe now.”

  “What happened, what happened?” Henderson turned to Reanna and grabbed at her arm.

  Jim remained standing with his arms crossed by the doorway of the front room while he quietly chuckled as he listened to Henderson babbling about the body.

  Then out of the corner of Jim’s eye, he spotted a flash of a blade as it was thrust toward the front of his neck from behind. Jim grabbed the wrist, stopping the blade inches from his throat.

  Jim’s strength was slightly greater than his attacker but he was exhausted. Still, he was able to pull the attacker’s arm downward away from his face. The man’s hot breath reeked of fish. Jim kept trying to push the attacker’s hand and knife away but it seemed like a standoff.

  While Jim held the knife-wielding wrist with one hand, he slammed his elbow into the abdomen of the man behind him and heard a crack.

  The man cried out and loosened his grip which made Jim believe he’d cracked a rib. This allowed Jim to twist his body. When he was partially turned, he was stunned to see that it was Denny.

  “What are you doing?” Jim asked through clenched teeth. Denny began to push the blade slowly closer to Jim’s neck. Jim was losing the battle.

  “Who are you working for?” Jim managed to squeeze out.

  Denny grinned as the knife kept inching closer. Through clenched teeth, Denny said, “I work for Barnum.”

  Jim wanted to yell for Reanna but couldn’t command his voice. His total strength was dedicated to stopping the knife thrust.

  “Barnum will be the last thing you hear before you die,” said Denny.

  Wrapped in a death hold, Jim and Denny bumped into the archway at the foyer. When Jim groaned, he saw Reanna spin around. In one quick motion, she crouched and pulled out her pistol from her cape, aimed and pulled the trigger. The pistol went ‘Click’—a misfire.

  She glimpsed Jim’s hard face, wide eyes and spittle in the corners of his mouth. She pulled back the slide on her pistol ejecting the bullet while reloading a new one and pulled the trigger but only heard another ‘Click.’

  Reanna dropped the pistol and drew out the long narrow dagger from inside her cape and flung it side armed at Denny. Jim watched in horror as the slender blade flew right for him. But it whizzed by his face and he felt Denny relax. Jim turned to see the blade handle sticking out of Denny’s throat. His eyes bulged and he made a gurgling sound as he dropped his knife. Blood ran down his neck as he continued to stare at Jim. Then he collapsed to the floor.

  Jim stared at a male he once thought of as his friend. He stumbled backwards and slumped down against the wall. Reanna rushed to Jim and held his face with both hands, “Are you okay, honey?”

  Jim put his hands on Reanna’s arms, opened his eyes and said, “Hey, everything’s perfect now.”

  “What’s happening, what’s happening?” choked Henderson as he hustled over to Jim and Reanna. Henderson was shaking and pointing to the large room, “There’s another body in there--what happened?”

  Jim smiled grimly and said, “Yeah, you’ve even got a body upstairs.”

  While Henderson talked with Jim, Reanna recovered her pistol, slipped it back into her cape, then returned to the conversation.

  “What do we do?” said Henderson. “We have to get out of here.”

  “It’s okay,” said Reanna. “You’ve got to calm down. Everything is going to be okay.”

  Jim looked at Henderson and said, “This entire meeting thing has been some kind of plan to assassinate you. There isn’t any meeting…it’s all been a hoax.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Henderson as he absently began rubbing at his arms.

  Jim stood up straight and regained his full composure. One side of his face was rapidly swelling. Jim said, “Look, the car is outside, we need to go. We must return to the embassy as soon as possible…before something else happens.”

  The three of them exited the building into a bright sun. The mist had disappeared. Jim sat in the driver’s seat and once Reanna and Henderson were settled in the rear, Jim began to drive toward the embassy.

  “What about Bill Nickerson and Tom?” asked Henderson.

  Jim looked through the rear view mirror at his passengers, “It’s too dangerous to recover them now. Someone from the embassy will return later.”

  After traveling a few blocks, a bullet smashed into the windshield on the passenger side and Jim immediately jammed the accelerator pedal to the floor.

  “Everybody okay?” asked J
im, as the car began to race through the streets.

  “We’re okay back here,” shouted Reanna. “Hand me your pistol, Jim. I might need it.”

  “Sorry, it’s back in the building.”

  Henderson slumped down in his seat; his eyes were nearly level with the bottom edge of the door window.

  Two P-51 fighters flying in close formation only about 150 feet above the ground zoomed past them.

  “That must be some training flight,” said Jim. But only moments later, Jim observed a North Korean YAK fighter flying toward them, then bullets striking the road in front of them and getting closer. Jim slammed on his brakes to slow the car then accelerated as he turned right onto a side street between several large buildings where he braked. Jim looked in the rear view mirror and saw Henderson leaning hard against Reanna in the left side of the car. The roar of the attacking plane overhead was almost mind-shattering.

  “Holy crap,” exclaimed Reanna.

  “Yeah, that was a YAK fighter. We make a good target since all the embassy vehicles’ roofs are painted orange. After a few moments, Jim made a U-turn, then accelerated back out into the street at top speed.

  Henderson remained quiet until they turned on Qua Ha Moon Road and arrived at the Bando Hotel. Several buses were bunched together in the parking lot and also in front of the building. Lines of people were lugging their suitcases, trying to board the busses. The Marine guards watched Jim, Reanna and Henderson exit the car and allowed them entrance to the building without identification checks.

  Jim was now intimidated. How would he get Henderson out of this mess? After all, that was his mission.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After entering the Bando Hotel, Jim, Reanna and Henderson rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. When they exited the elevator, they found themselves in the midst of frantic activity. Marines had various weapons hanging from their shoulders: M1s, Carbines, shotguns, along with a few Japanese machine guns. Most of them carried boxes of documents.

 

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