HARD CASE (A John Harding Novel - Special Ops, Cage Fighter, CIA Agent)

by Bernard L. DeLeo

  “Want to try keeping them without me?”

  “Damn it, John, what’s gotten into you?”

  “Distrust. If I’m not in full control of those two, you’ll get them killed. Besides, I’ll have a cover for them you won’t come close to. Best make up your mind because it’s my way or the highway, old buddy.”

  Dennis tries to play the blackmail card. “We own your ass.”

  “Do you really want to play that card with me?”

  Dennis looks away with a big sigh. “No. I’ll make some calls. In the meantime our first gig is on Friday night at the Afghan Center in Fremont. We had to move it into first place over the Alameda Fairgrounds. It will be a small gathering with many of the local leaders.”

  “That’s rushing it a little. How’s your intel on the place?”

  “Excellent. It’s been under surveillance since 911. We have a database with every single person that ever stepped foot on the property. I’ll get your team electronic notepads with the database on them, including facial recognition software to help ID our Claude Chardin. I’d be surprised if Chardin tried something at a place with so little cover though, which of course worries the hell out of me.”

  “That’s why you have me, scapegoats incorporated.”

  “Have you had a chance to research Chardin?”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty impressive.” Chardin had done over fifty specialty hits the CIA knew about. He was only suspected of three inside the US and they were Mexican Drug Cartel hits on dealers. The rest had been done in Europe and the Middle East – politicians, financiers, weapons dealers, and witnesses. “So, if Samira really isn’t his target you’re thinking he might want to make himself known to local leaders? How does that help him pull off something substantial?”

  “Like I told you the other night, we just don’t know for sure. All we have is chatter. Make yourself familiar with any strangers and we’ll take it from there. That doesn’t mean there won’t be attempts on the girl’s life but they’ll probably come from the run of the mill Islamist nut-jobs that see insults to Islam everywhere. My take on this whole thing is if Chardin shows at all it will be to blend in. He’s no suicide bomber. Anything he agreed to do will be in a supervisory role with an escape hatch. You can bet he will have a nearly impenetrable cover, possibly even with diplomatic ties.”

  I see something flash in Strobert’s eyes and suddenly a lot of things become clearer. “There’s no possibly in this diplomatic ties crapolla, Denny. You have some intel on him having diplomatic immunity from one of our supposed ally nations, don’t you? He’d be able to float around at these shindigs while meeting with cell members in completely innocent ways. Once you have all the players, you need Mr. Chardin to disappear without implicating America in the assassination of a person with diplomatic credentials.”

  Dennis nodded. “We believe he’ll come in with Pakistani delegation ties. It would be awkward if he somehow survives this.”

  “And even more awkward if I get caught sanctioning his ass.”

  “Don’t get caught.”

  Boy, I’m really out there on this job. At least I’m not overseas. I decide it’s time to fill Strobert in on Tess’s more than coincidental meet up with Alexi Fiialkov. He smiles like I’m telling him a tall tale until he hears who the grandfather was waiting in the room.

  “What the hell’s all that about? It sounds like Connagher may have drawn Alexi’s interest, but in what way… as a lawyer maybe?”

  “The meeting seemed convincing and I doubt Fiialkov knew I’d be there because I got roped into attending at the last minute. I wouldn’t put it past him to use his family, but I doubt he’d be able to pull it off with his Granddaughter. He may have wanted to use Tess to get at me as some leverage. He’d get my attention that way but not in the way he thinks. I bet you’re wondering if Alexi knows about Tess’s firm doing odd jobs for the Company, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yeah,” Dennis replied. “I’d bet Mr. Fiialkov didn’t bargain on an anal exam for his holdings until I find out one way or another. Keep me apprised of any more coincidences. We better go back inside before your boy gets too well acquainted with Samira.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Planning

  I follow him inside. Samira and Jafar are sitting at the small table drinking tea with Naji lying at their feet. They look like they’re having a good time.

  “John and I have worked out most of the initial details so we can call it a night.”

  I smile, seeing disappointment on our young couple’s faces. “We’ll be getting together again soon, kids.”

  “I wish to dine at Jack London Square tomorrow night and see the sights across the bay, John. I know I am bait for something. Perhaps I can wiggle around on the hook outside of the hotel.”

  I look sharply at Dennis but I see surprise on his face as he peers at his young charge. I have no objections. I’m getting paid to be on call. “Very well, but know this young lady, we’re carrying out your ‘speak out on Islam’ plans. You jumped on the hook but I’ll let you wiggle around as much as you want. I’m not your Mommy. We’ll pick you up at six, Samira. That okay with you, Denny?”

  “As long as the other two members of your team are along, it’s okay with me. Will you have enough time to brief them?”

  Samira was laughing at my comment while Jafar cast a frightened glance at me. “You are still very funny, John.” She turned to Jafar and squeezed his hand. “He could even make us laugh in an Afghan cave.”

  “I’ll call Tommy and Dev when I get home. Will you have the limo you want us to take ready?”

  “It will be here ready for your dinner date although we’re right across the street from the Square’s best restaurants. We’ll drive around before your man drops us off in front of the Square just so we can scan the area for things out of place. We’re not using you as bait, Samira. As John put it, you have chosen a dangerous path and we will help you navigate it as best we can.”

  “My own Father thinks I am crazy,” Samira replied with all levity aside. “I must speak out. Beatings, honor killings, suicide bombings, and subjugation of women should not be active ingredients in a religion advocating peace. I do not want the Jewish race marched into the sea to appease tyrants who no longer even know why they hate. These so called leaders will step too far one day and my people will be erased from this earth in rightful retribution. I can no longer look away.”

  I needed to get Jafar out of here. He was staring at Samira like she was Joan of Arc. “We’re with you young lady. Maybe we can find a way to get your message out without you becoming a martyr and still take care of some bait business. We’ll take the ferry across to the Pier 39 area after we eat. You’ll love the ferry boat ride and be able to pick up some knickknacks in the stores over there. There’s not much variety around the Square for souvenirs.”

  “I would love to go on the ferryboat, John.”

  “Let’s go, Jafar. Say goodbye.”

  While the two kids ogled each other during a parting hand shake, I petted the attentive Naji. “If we’re taking Naji along tomorrow night, we may have to eat outside.”

  “I do not mind, John. I am more interested in seeing the shops and marina rather than formal dining. Perhaps you can stay with Naji while I go inside the many places of interest across the bay with Jafar.”

  “If it’s not too cold they have great clam chowder we can eat outside across the Bay. Small shops will be okay - large shops I’ll stay with Naji while Jafar and my crew go in with you. I need to see who goes in after you do rather than react inside anyway.” I patted Naji’s head a final time and yanked Jafar toward the door. “See you soon. G’night Denny.”

  Denny gave me a little wave and the kids kept their eyes locked on each other until I pulled the door closed on the suite. “Ever hear of the term ‘playing hard to get’?”

  “She…she is gorgeous… and very intelligent,” Jafar managed to finally blurt out while glancing back at the door furtively as we walked awa
y. He seemed to be expecting Samira to run after him as if they were Romeo and Juliet.

  “She’s the whole package, kid. I’ll grant you that. You do realize we have a job to do. I can’t have you mooning all over Samira while you’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for killers and items out of place, right?”

  “I merely did exactly what you told me I was to do, Mr. Harding.”

  I laughed while grabbing the little smart-ass in a Vulcan neck pinch as we made our way through the lobby. “Keep up the good work but with a little less enthusiasm.”

  “Very well,” Jafar agreed, hunching his shoulders up comically under my assault.

  As we’re approaching my Chevy the prick starts needling me.

  “You should have a 007 car. This is not the car of an experienced agent.”

  “Don’t make me regret bailing you out of jail you ungrateful turd. I’m seeing signs now that having hit it off with our Ms. Karim you think it appropriate to begin assuming facts not in evidence – such as the fact I won’t even blink while I twist your head off.”

  Jafar started he-hawing for a moment while entering my very reliable Chevy. “Samira will be very upset if you kill me, John.”

  I get in and start the Chevy up. “Yeah, well she won’t be here forever, my shortsighted friend. Very quickly you will be waving goodbye to your young love and wondering where all the time went while I consider ways of maiming you that won’t show.”

  “I think I’m in love with Samira,” Jafar states with a sigh. “I am already missing her.”

  “I’ll see if I can dig up a picture of her old man. That’ll blunt your urges a bit.”

  “After dealing with your Father did old crazy guys scare you?”

  The kid had a point. I’d forgotten how similar our backgrounds were. “Badee Karim, her Father, makes your old man look like Homer Simpson.”

  “You could put in a good word for me, John.”

  “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, keep your eyes open. We’ll only get one shot at this. Chardin will be hanging around looking for inroads into possible recruiting amongst the crowds drawn to hear Samira speak. He may have also been hired to whack her and he’ll be scouting. This guy will not be killing himself to get the job done. Frankly, we’ll need a little luck and I hate having to depend on luck. His relationship with the religion of peace appears only to have monetary strings. Chardin probably gets a fortune for doing a job on foreign soil. He’d probably whack people for us if we paid him enough.”

  “Why would our government pay him a fortune for what they can get you to do for peanuts?”

  I marched right into that one. Jafar is growing on me. “All levity aside I get paid respectably for my work. Ever hear the old cowboy phrase ‘I ride for the brand’. If not for the Marine Corps I’d probably be in prison. I’ve been overseas all over the place. One thing I know – America is the greatest nation on earth. Maybe I could soldier for the highest bidder and make a fortune but I ain’t ever going to. I ride for the brand and I’m an American – first, last, always.”

  “You have been all over the Middle East. Can there ever be peace?”

  “If we quit playing around and win… then yeah. If you mean can there be compromise… then no. In an American victory all sides may live still within their own culture peacefully. In a compromise with suicidal idiots there can only be submission. Have you ever been to the mosque in Fremont?”

  “No but my Mom took me to the Masjid Al Islam mosque in Oakland. Do you believe in God, John?”

  I glanced over at the next light. He met my gaze without humor. “Yes, but not the one Islamists use as an excuse to strap bombs on kids.”

  “Do you think all who follow Allah wish to subjugate the world?”

  “I think far too many who don’t, keep their mouths shut while others in their religion attempt it. They don’t speak up for women forced into female genital mutilation, burkas, and beatings. They don’t speak up against ‘honor killings’. They don’t speak out about the suicide bombings against innocent people of their own religion. All of those items share something in common – they are not in the Koran.”

  “Samira speaks out against these perversions.”

  “Yep, and it only takes one psycho to shut her up. If there were millions like her speaking out every day against these perversions as you call them, she would not be in danger.”

  I shut off the Chevy in front of my house. Jafar was quiet. He seemed to be mulling over what I had said. The neighborhood looked quiet even for a Monday night. I had my old Chevy’s windows changed to an opaque tint if looking in from the outside. After dark I take a nice leisurely look out the windows before exiting my chariot, especially when no neighbors were visible outside. Jafar waited, sensing I had seen something.

  “Is something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, none of the neighborhood vehicles parked around look unfamiliar and the houses all have lights on. I don’t see any telltale glints of light so we’re good to go, at least as far as it’s humanly possible to detect. Remember our talk about noticing things even slightly out of whack. Well, add this to the list. Always commit to memory vehicles in any place where you have to be for any length of time. When you spot an unfamiliar vehicle don’t shrug it off. Write down the license number and keep an eye on it until you know who owns it. This is our business, kid.”

  “Because Samira is checked into a public inn, it’s impossible to know every vehicle in the parking lot. Best we can do with that is notice loiterers and people not moving purposely toward a destination before we expose Samira in the open. Even tourists have destinations. They don’t walk around gawking at the hotel they’re staying in. We’re always methodical and careful, especially in a case involving a professional assassin. Chardin would be watching from a vantage point near Samira but far out of sight, like the marina you perceived of before. Tomorrow, before we pick up Samira, I’ll get us to a place we can check out the marina and go over some of the basic tenets of surveillance.”

  Jafar looked past me over my shoulder as I heard a vehicle slow. “I think you’ve got company.”

  In a split second I had the .45 caliber Colt in my hand from its custom sheath under my seat. I shifted without causing movement inside the car as a late model, gunmetal gray Mercedes eased next to the curb one house from mine. “Stay still. These windows are opaque from the outside. Let’s see who it is. Dive into the back seat if I go out the driver’s door and stay down.”

  No one exited the Mercedes. Its windows were as impossible to see through as mine are. Five minutes passed. Jafar remained attentive but otherwise calm – no fidgeting, telltale hand movements, or facial tics. My young recruit represented the main reason our armed forces like to get their trainees enlisted young. He would be a reliable asset in very short order. I hoped we wouldn’t have to find out how fast he could leap into the backseat tonight.

  The Mercedes doors opened, disgorging two familiar figures I hadn’t planned on seeing anytime soon – Ray Alexander and his hand puppet James Bonasera. They stared at my house for a few more minutes before walking toward the door. The men’s hands were empty. Both wore dark thousand dollar suits which could and very likely did cover concealed weapons. Alexander strutted along with his bowler hat at a jaunty angle while Bonasera’s head swiveled nervously. That they would approach my house when the lights weren’t on could mean anything. They knew my car so they figured I was home.

  “Get in the back slowly, J. I don’t want these two seeing you just yet. You have enough trouble to deal with at school. Looking over your shoulder for my two visitors you can do without. Stay down and quiet until the Mercedes leaves.”

  “I’ll be looking over my shoulder anyway,” Jafar whispered as he slipped athletically into the Chevy backseat and down. “Hanging with you is like being in Kandahar.”

  I chuckled and stuffed the Colt under my shirt in the back. “Samira isn’t in Kandahar.”

  “Good point.”

 
I exited the Chevy and slammed the door, jolting Alexander and Bonasera. Alexander’s hand had reached inside his coat but Bonasera simply put up his hands.

  “Hello, boys. To what do I owe this unusual visit?”

  Alexander let his hands drop slowly to his sides and I took my hand off the butt of my Colt. Bonasera moved a few steps toward me gesturing in a calming manner. “Hi John. Sorry to bother you at home. Could we talk to you privately?”

  “Sure.” I walked past them to my door, disabled the alarm system, and opened the door. I listened very carefully for any rustle of clothing which would have been a precursor to my planting Alexander. “C’mon in.”

  “Just like that, huh?” Alexander put a restraining hand on his partner. “No threats, no warnings?”

  “I don’t do threats or warnings, Ray. If you mean will both of you gentlemen leave in the same condition you’re in now, that all depends on how our conversation proceeds. If we all use our inside voices respectfully I’m certain we can part company without incident.”

  “I’m watchin’ you, pug,” Alexander warned.

  A second later I had Ray pinned by the throat to my doorframe with his Heckler/Koch 9mm automatic in my hand. Bonasera leaped aside with his hands visible. He was no dummy. I squeezed until both Ray’s hands were clawing at my hand and his eyes were bulging to the dancing beat of his feet.

  “No reason for you to watch me now, Ray. Since we have the preliminaries over with, let’s all go inside and sort this out.”

  I released Ray with a little push toward the inside of my house. He stumbled slightly while choking and gasping breath back into his lungs.

  “Sor…sorry, John,” Bonasera apologized while easing around me into the house.

  “Don’t worry about it, Jim. Me and Ray were just having a sidebar. I admit to being a little hurt we couldn’t have a conversation after the fight without a sniper. Just out of curiosity, what was that all about?”

  “We were afraid you’d react badly to taking a dive,” Bonasera admitted, helping his still wheezing partner to straighten.