The Scientist (Max Doerr Book 2)

by Jay Deb

  Janco ate the rest of his food and drank some water, Omar was still eating. Janco stood up and faced the window. The night was well lit by the electric bulbs outside. Janco felt that the city had no character, except for Atakule Tower, which had been deftly put on a hill to make it appear very tall. A few lanky buildings stood here and there like lone men. Janco peered down the road and saw esthetically bent lampposts on the street below. He tried to look further and see if the other streets had similar lampposts.

  Just then, Omar stood up from his bed, walked over to the window and closed its curtain with a rough pull on the rod attached to the curtain.

  “Don’t look out during the night,” Omar said. “Maybe someone is watching us.” Then he headed for the bathroom.

  Sighing, Janco climbed into his bed and lay down. In Zurich, he could go for a quick stroll or order the food that he liked and even a woman. Now that was all gone.

  Chapter 37 Istanbul, Turkey

  Ibrahim was handed over to the CIA and was taken to the Saudi Arabia facility the agency had. Ibrahim had told Doerr and Ariella that Omar already had Janco in his control, but Ibrahim didn’t know where Omar was. Doerr and Ariella argued where Omar could be. Doerr was sure Omar would use Turkey as a door to the Islamic State. But Ariella opined that Omar would use Armenia or Azerbaijan because Turkey was too obvious geographically.

  Doerr won the argument, and they took a flight to Istanbul, the largest city in Turkey and fifth largest city in the world by population.

  An enormous net was spread all over Turkey to catch Janco and Omar, if Doerr was to believe his handler. Half of the agency’s resources in the Middle East had been moved to Turkey. The Turkish authorities assured the CIA that ninety percent of their border personnel were shifted to the sixteen-hundred-mile-long border between Turkey and the Iran.

  Yet there was no sign of Omar, no sighting, and no intercepted communication from him.

  Doerr was worried that the CIA may not be able to stop Omar. Or worse, Omar had already delivered Janco to Tehran and then gone into hiding.

  For Doerr, his singular mission was to kill Omar, his wife’s murderer. Concerned that he may never be able to put a bullet in Omar’s head for revenge, Doerr called Stonewall and left her a voice message.

  An hour later, she called back. “Everything is being done, Max. Any update from your end?”

  “Ariella and I have been scanning places here. Spoke to all our sources. We have visited dozens of hotels and motels. Bribed their employees. Hacked into their computers. But no luck so far.”

  “It’s not a two-person job.”

  “Exactly. And I don’t know how hard the Turkish authorities are really trying but–”

  “They’re trying very hard, Max,” Stonewall interrupted. “The president has called the Turkish PM twice and he has been assured that Turkey is doing everything to stop Omar.”

  “Yeah. We know what that means. They’re only pretending to be helping us.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. We pulled out most of our officers from Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Jordan and–”

  “I’m aware of that, but why is there no breakthrough, no sighting? I’m very concerned. What is everybody doing?”

  “Normally you’re very calm. But now you sound almost panicked?” Stonewall asked. “Is there something special in this case? Something personal? Is there?”

  Doerr pondered whether he should tell his boss the real story, that he was desperate to kill Omar to take revenge for his wife’s murder. In the end, he decided not to. Stonewall was almost a friend, yet he didn’t know how she would react if he told her everything. It was bad enough that Ariella was aware that Doerr’s first goal was to kill Omar. “I’m just worried that if Janco joins the Iranian program, then our friend Israel’s annihilation might become that much closer.”

  “Don’t worry, Max. We’ll get ’em. We always do.”

  “Well, when there are bad people in our own agency, then it gets hard to win against the bad.”

  “What do you mean?” Stonewall asked.

  Doerr had not spoken to anyone in the agency about Tim Oxley, the agency employee, who was getting paid forty thousand dollars a month by Omar, thinking that Oxley might become a distraction from the mission. But with barely any progress made in the mission in the last few days, he thought it was okay to bring up the topic now. Maybe Oxley was the reason why Omar had not been spotted yet. “There are moles in our own agency,” Doerr said. “Tim Oxley is one of them.”

  “I know you don’t like Tim. But to call him a mole is a little too much. Don’t you think?”

  Doerr explained what Ibrahim had told him. He had no doubt about Oxley. Everything Ibrahim had said made sense. “Just put a sniffer on him, trace his calls, assign someone to shadow him, watch where he goes and what emails he sends secretly. See it for yourself. You don’t have to believe me.”

  “I’ll think about that,” Stonewall said in a skeptical tone. “You keep me posted about your work. Okay?”

  “Okay. Will do.”

  Chapter 38 Ankara

  Omar came out of the bathroom and saw Janco lying on the bed. Omar knew Janco was getting tired of watching the TV, and a bored man could be trouble. He knew he should have brought a few English novels from Karum mall. Having been in Ankara so many times, he knew the city very well. The city was like a junction between the East and the West. Omar was well versed in Turkish, a language that used the Latin alphabet, originating from the Ottoman Empire.

  Omar had fourteen men working for him in Ankara, and he could hire local goons easily to increase his staff. None of his men knew Omar’s entire plan; each man only knew pieces, and they had been sworn to secrecy. If they broke any code of conduct, they would pay the ultimate price.

  Omar had decided to do the entire job of delivering Janco to the Islamic State by himself, his helpers doing only minor work such as getting a car or a gun. Hired help had a tendency to leak things to outsiders. Omar wanted this job to be done right, and that was why he was handling Janco by himself. His cohorts didn’t even know what Janco looked like.

  If he did this job successfully, he was sure his name would shine like a ten-karat diamond in his world. He knew it was important to keep Janco busy somehow. But right now he had more important things on hand.

  His phone vibrated in his pajama pocket, and he knew it was Javed.

  Omar pulled out the phone. “Hello,” he said.

  “Where are you now?” Javed asked.

  “I’m in Turkey. I just arrived today,” Omar lied. He took a quick look at Janco, who appeared to be sleeping. For safety, Omar stepped out of the room and proceeded toward the end of the hallway, from where he could watch the door to his room so Janco couldn’t get out, and he could have privacy as well.

  JANCO WOKE UP from his pretend sleep and walked to the door. From the number of footsteps he heard, he was sure Omar was far away, and from Omar’s tone, he figured it would be a long call. After a few days in this hotel, Janco was depressed. The Zurich hotel had been a much better place. He yearned for a chat with his son. It was eight p.m. in Ankara, so it must be one p.m. in Washington, DC, where his son worked. He thought about the danger of making the call. But Omar had said he had a contingency plan even if the CIA showed up at the hotel. Maybe be the FBI had stopped tapping his son’s work phone; maybe they never did.

  Janco hesitated for a few seconds and then decided to call and hang up right after hearing his son’s voice.

  Janco picked up the hotel’s phone and then started dialing.

  “WHERE IN TURKEY?” Javed asked.

  “It’s not important. When are you going to send the rest of the money?”

  “I have already sent the money.”

  “I checked my account twenty minutes back.” Omar tried to suppress his anger. He could never understand why Javed had so many financial issues. “There was no fucking money.”

  “I sent you three million dollars. Remember?”

  “Are you kiddi
ng me? That was the advance. Now you have to pay the rest – three million.” Omar spoke with contempt. “You forgot what we talked about?”

  “Looks like you forgot what we talked about. You were to deliver him in Tehran. At that time, I was to hand you the remaining three million. Now bring him to Tehran!”

  “That’s not the way this business works. I thought you understood. You gave me the advance, and now I have him. I already proved I got him. Now you give me the rest of the money and then I deliver. That’s the way this works.”

  “Suppose I give you three million dollars,” Javed said. “You bring him to Tehran?”

  “You really think I’m that stupid?”

  “Then how will Janco come here?”

  “Once I receive the money, I’ll hand him over near the Iran-Turkey border. Baskale or maybe Semdinli. The place of transfer will be decided at the last minute for security purposes.”

  “But listen, Omar,” Javed said calmly. “Let me give you a million and a half right now. The rest…the rest I’ll give you in a month. Trust me.”

  This wasn’t the first time a client tried to do something like this. It meant only one thing – Omar would never see the rest of the money. “No way. That’s not how this business works,” Omar said calmly, suppressing his rage. “I need the full fucking money.”

  “Omar! I know exactly where you are.” Javed’s voice rose. “I can send my men there, and they will bring Janco here, and they’ll take care of you on their way out.”

  Does Javed know where I am? Omar wondered but only for a second, and then he dismissed the thought. “You’re bluffing, Javed. Don’t you think I faced this before? And guess who lived and who died.”

  “Omar, you can’t touch a hair on my head. But I can get you, someday if not today. Where are you right now?”

  “I won’t say.”

  “Remember your amu and ame? They still live here. They will die with great pain, Omar. I’m telling you. They will!”

  “If you haven’t fed them to dogs already, you can do so now. Stop threatening me,” Omar whispered. He wanted to scream, but the residents in the nearby rooms could hear him. “Threats won’t work. Get me the money or I’ll sell Janco to whoever gives me the right amount. I’ll hand him over to the CIA if they give me more money. They’re looking for him desperately.”

  “Listen, Omar.” Javed’s tone went down a few notches, perhaps realizing that intimidation wouldn’t work. “Janco is very important to me. My job, my life, everything depends on it. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying all this to you. But my life depends on whether I can bring Janco here. Can we come to some arrangement?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I pay a million and a half now plus I give you some bonds. They’re worth more than a million dollars. Then you give me Janco. After a month, I pay you the rest of the million and a half, and you return my bonds.”

  Omar thought the bonds Javed was talking about were worthless paper. There was nothing he could do with them, and he’d never receive the last million and a half dollars, and it wasn’t acceptable to him. “Make it two and a half mil now and you get Janco. Then you pay the rest.” Omar was okay to risk a half million dollars.

  “I don’t have two and a half million dollars right now.”

  “This is the part I don’t understand.” Omar felt frustrated, and he said angrily, “Your state has loads of oil money. Then why this thriftiness?”

  “I represent my country’s interest, not its money. The money is being controlled by people who are controlled by money. You get my point?”

  “No. I don’t get your point. And it doesn’t really matter to me. Only thing that matters to me is the fucking money.”

  “I have a question,” Javed said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Did you already spend the three million?”

  “Yes. It went to some employees of the CIA,” Omar said. “I had to pay folks inside and outside the CIA. The outside people hacked into the CIA computers, and the inside guys helped them out. I had to pay all of them a good amount. And guess what I found.”

  “What?”

  “Finding Janco is the CIA’s top priority. They’ve put their best man on this. His name is Max Doerr. I know the guy well, and I have a little bit of history with him. He is going to come for me. Now you see why my fee is six million dollars?”

  “Yes.”

  “And CIA has a thick dossier on you. They are monitoring you. What you do. Where you go. Be careful when you’re outside your country.” Omar made up all that. Tim Oxley was on his payroll, but the CIA wasn’t monitoring Javed.

  “I take that as an honor. But how did they get my info? I don’t hold any government position. I work from behind the walls of People’s House.”

  “I don’t know how they got it. But they got it. Now, coming back to our topic. I’m going to hang up now, and I won’t call till I get two and a half mil dollars in my account. The money better come within a week, or you’re never going to see Janco.” Omar hung up and started walking back to his hotel room.

  Chapter 39 Istanbul, Turkey

  Max Doerr pushed the K-Cup coffee inside the coffee maker and waited in his Istanbul hotel room. It was a sunny morning; the birds could be seen migrating against the clear and blue sky.

  Doerr could hear the prongs inside the coffee maker perforating the K-Cup and the water buzzing through. Soon, the caffeinated water started dripping into the mug.

  Doerr was thinking of Omar, and his thought was broken by the rings of the encrypted, secure phone lying on the table near his bed. Only Ariella, Stonewall and his CIA handler had that phone’s number. Doerr picked it up after two rings.

  “Hello, Mr. Doerr, I have some good news.” It was the handler. “And some bad.”

  In Doerr’s experience, the handlers had almost always given him bad news, and he was sure whatever the handler had was bad.

  “Let me hear the good one first,” Doerr said.

  “We located Omar.” The handler laughed.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in Turkey.”

  “I know he’s in Turkey. Where in Turkey?”

  “He’s in Ankara. Holed up in a hotel. We’re pretty sure Janco is with him too.”

  “How did they find out the location?”

  “From what I heard, it appears Janco or someone else from that hotel made a phone call to Janco’s son. Once they traced the call, they pointed two satellite cameras at the hotel and saw Omar go in and out of the hotel. That’s how they got the location.”

  “Okay.” Optimism filled Doerr’s heart and his mind switched to high alert. “Arrange something so that Ariella and I can be in Ankara as soon as possible.”

  “Not so fast, Mr. Doerr.”

  Here comes the bad news, Doerr thought. “What’s the problem? You guys can’t make a transport arrangement?”

  “We can. But there’s no need for that arrangement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is that your work for this mission is over.”

  “What?” The words felt like a dagger through his heart. Omar had been located, and he had to be killed. But his handler was telling him he would be off the project. He felt as if the air was being sucked out of his lungs.

  “Omar is in the Ankara hotel and a few of our men from our Turkey office are already heading for the hotel.” The handler laughed. “We will get Omar and Janco soon. Thanks for everything, Mr. Doerr. You can relax now. Go home. Maybe take a tour in Bosphorus before heading for New York.”

  Doerr sighed; his mission was to bring Janco back to the United States, but now he had a bigger mission – kill Omar. He was determined to do both.

  “How many guys are headed to Omar’s hotel?” Doerr asked. “Who are they?”

  “Two guys. Three if you count the driver. We have an expert marksman there. The other man is an ex-marine, giving support to the marksman.”

  “Just two guys?”

  “Yes. W
e have to maintain stealth. Moreover, we’re in a foreign country. Can’t send in a big team there. They’re well trained and they’ll get both Omar and Janco.”

  “You’ve captured images of only Omar. Then how can you be sure Janco is there too?”

  “If you find the mama bear, how long does it take to find the cub? Now do you want me to arrange your ticket back home, or will you do it yourself?”

  Would the two new guys be able to capture Janco? Doerr kept wondering. Even if they did, Omar might get away and may not be seen for months, maybe years. He had to kill Omar.

  “Mr. Doerr, are you still there?” the handler asked.

  “Yes. I’m going to Ankara,” Doerr said, almost speaking to himself.

  “Why? Our work is getting wrapped up there. And your job is done!”

  Even if the work was truly over, Doerr had a big reason to go after Omar, a giant personal reason. But he couldn’t say it to the handler. “I don’t think those newbies in Ankara will be able to capture Omar and retrieve Janco. Omar is a shrewd and resourceful man. An excellent marksman too. Moreover, it was my duty to bring Janco back to America. And I take my job very seriously. So I’m going.”

  “So you’ve got no confidence in your co-workers?”

  “It’s not whether I have confidence or not. I know for sure the job will not be done. It won’t be done right.” Doerr could hear the heavy sigh the handler let out. Doerr was sure something fishy was going on. “I’m being let off this project. Am I not?”

  “Yes. But listen, Mr. Doerr. It was not my decision to send you back home. It came from above. And the reason for it…the reason for your removal from this case, I’m afraid, Mr. Doerr, was created by you.”

  “Me?” Doerr was flabbergasted. “What the fuck. How?”

  “Well, here’s what happened. Once Ibrahim reached the agency facilities in Saudi Arabia, someone ran a blood test on him, which showed he had a high level of certain chemicals. He panicked and called someone in the Justice Department. And then things started snowballing. You can guess how that went.”