The Belgian Bagman (Justin Hall #11)

by Ethan Jones

  Flavio peered at Justin. “And your share was half a million?”

  “No, over half of the loot went to support provisional government officials and local projects. My share was a few thousand dollars.”

  “I’m assuming this was not the only such attack?”

  “You’re right. A couple of times we seized oil; other times weapons. Sold in the black market or to local tribes, they fetched considerable amounts.”

  Flavio nodded. “So who do you suspect gave you up?”

  “I need to give it more thought, but I have a couple of names. The forger is the first that comes to mind.”

  “Yes, that makes sense. He can link you to the false ID.”

  “Yes, but it’s a she. A very smart woman I met in Erbil.”

  “And the second?”

  “The bank manager at the Erbil branch. At the time, I had this gut feeling that he was going to double-cross me. I should have gone with my gut.”

  “Yes, perhaps you should have. But these people didn’t volunteer this intel. They were pressed to reveal it, perhaps enticed by money or forced against their will.” Flavio honked as a city bus pushed into their lane, then he cursed the bus driver. “What intel service is pulling the strings?”

  “If it is an intel service.”

  “It has to be. Who else is served by dragging your name through the mud and having you thrown out of the agency?”

  “I’ve made many enemies. Some of them are rich, powerful.”

  Flavio nodded. “I still think this is an intel agency. But let’s explore both possibilities.” He turned onto Kapucinessenstraat, as they headed south, toward Brussels. “When we get to the station, let’s see what we can find. I’ll press Lambert and his boss about how they came to possess that intel. You and Carrie look at the banker and the forger. Oh, and on the topic of forgeries, this is not the only fake ID you got while in Iraq, is it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Iraqi passport?”

  “Yes.”

  “Syrian?”

  Justin nodded.

  “Turkish?”

  “Those are harder to find, and more expensive, but yes, I have one of those as well.”

  Flavio shook his head. “Why do I bother asking?”

  Justin shrugged. “Because you want to know?”

  “Yes, but also because you’re my concern now. Look, Justin, whatever issues you had with your former boss, those are behind you.” Flavio glanced at Justin, held his eyes for a moment, then returned the gaze to the stalled traffic in front of them. “Vale may disagree, but you’re my best field operative. I wouldn’t want you to be caught or burned because of some Iraqi or Syrian snake who gave you up to save their own skin.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “So hand over your stash from your rogue days in those God-forsaken lands.”

  “I will do that,” Justin replied in a hesitant voice.

  “All the stash. The agency will provide you with documents, whatever the need may be.”

  Justin nodded, but said nothing.

  “And work with Vale to see who among your rich enemies wants to expose you.”

  “What about this mission?”

  “What did Lambert say?”

  “He said I’m done, but—”

  “Let’s make it so. You’re off this op, and this is official.”

  “I understand.” Justin kept his voice flat and stifled a slight grin. Whenever Flavio mentioned the word “official” it meant that as far as he wanted to know, Justin was no longer working on that operation.

  Flavio said, “Your hands may be full, but I want you to also work on finding Egorov. There’s no doubt she’s connected to these people. Perhaps not the terrorists themselves, but the ones who financed them.”

  Justin nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  Ekaterina Egorov was a Russian operative working for the FSB, the Russian internal security intelligence service. Then she had disappeared in northern Iraq during a spy exchange that had gone sideways. As a favor to the FSB, Flavio had agreed that Justin’s team would work to find Egorov. One of her assets, a young low-level banker, was last seen in Brussels a week ago. Egorov’s phone was also tracked to Belgium’s capital, but intelligence had not confirmed her presence there.

  “Once we’re in Brussels, these two ops will be your top priority.”

  Justin nodded. He thought about what he was going to say next, knowing probably it was not going to be a good idea. He shrugged, then said, “And Karolin?”

  Flavio frowned. “What about her?”

  “What will she be—”

  “Whatever is assigned to her. You’re no longer working on this operation or in Antwerp. So her assignment is no longer your concern.”

  Justin nodded. “I understand.” Maybe she’ll remain in the city with Dolina and still work on this mission. Lambert still wants my agency’s help, but not me. He shrugged. Did I misunderstand Flavio’s order about being removed officially from this op? He’d like me to still work on it but from a distance, so I can be away from Karolin? But I thought the whole idea of her working for the agency was so I could be close to her. Close but not too close? He shrugged again. We’ll go out for supper tonight, if she’s available and in Brussels, then perhaps I’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.

  Chapter Three

  January 9

  Brussels, Belgium

  “Justin, what’s going on?” Karolin asked in a disappointed tone.

  “Huh? What?” Justin looked at her sitting across the table from him, then dropped his eyes to the menu in his hands. He was still looking at the first page, at the appetizers Chez Ami, the French haute-cuisine restaurant, offered for lunch instead of dinner.

  Before Karolin could reply, the waitress—a young woman with a freckled face and clear green eyes—appeared tableside. “Have you decided on your order?”

  Karolin peered at Justin with her blue eyes. “No?”

  “Uh, a couple of moments, if that’s okay?”

  “Yes, sure, take your time.”

  Karolin shrugged. She waited until the waitress had turned around, then asked in a whisper, “Where are you, Justin?”

  “I’m here with you.” He reached for her hand.

  “No, you’re everywhere but here. What’s bothering you? Upset because you’re no longer part of the Antwerp operation?”

  Justin shrugged. “No, I’m over it. I’m glad to be back to Brussels. Can’t wait to return to Vienna.”

  “And leave me here?”

  “That’s not my decision. But you’ll join me soon enough.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “How’s Dolina treating you?”

  “Pretty good. I’m learning a lot.”

  “What part do you find the hardest?”

  “Other than being away from you?”

  Justin smiled. “No, at work.”

  “Foot surveillance. The transition from the vehicle to following the target on foot, especially in uncrowded areas. It’s difficult to remain unseen.”

  Justin put the menu down. “As it happened today?”

  Karolin shrugged, then brushed her blonde hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. Dolina isn’t sure if the target noticed her.”

  “I don’t know either. Maybe he did, and that’s why they sprang into action. We thought this was recon, but it turned out to be the real attack.” He shook his head. “Then maybe this was planned all along, and we were just lucky to intervene in time.”

  Karolin sighed. “I guess we’ll never know. But you still haven’t told me what’s weighing heavy on your mind.”

  Justin dropped his eyes to the menu. “How about we order, then we can chat while they fix our food?”

  “Sure. While you were daydreaming earlier, I picked what I want. I’ve heard fantastic things about how the chef makes exquisite fish dishes, so I’m going with the Ostra Regal oysters, squid, and crayfish with crustacean’s oil. Mmmmm.” Karolin closed her eyes. “I can almost taste it.”
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  Justin shrugged. His eyes moved up and down the menu. He wanted to say, At ninety-five dollars, it had better be perfect. But he held his tongue. “I . . . I think I’ll take the rack of lamb.” He pointed near the bottom of the page, where he recognized a couple of English words among the drowning sea of French terms describing the food. Lamb was the closest thing to real meat, and at fifty-five dollars it could be considered a deal.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to try the fish? Maybe wild salmon or swordfish?”

  Justin smiled at Karolin. “No, honey, it’s okay. I haven’t had lamb in a long time.”

  Karolin shrugged. “All right, then.”

  She had been trying to get Justin to stretch beyond his comfort zone and try food he was not familiar with. They had tasted all sorts of exotic fruits and concoctions during their holiday trip in St. Lucia, Martinique, and Barbados. It had been a fantastic trip, but too short. Eight days for island-hopping was not enough. But the trip had done wonders for their relationship. Justin felt he and Karolin were now a couple, although still at the early stages, the period of trying to find out what the partner likes and what makes them tick.

  The waitress showed up with their drinks—coffee for both of them—and took their orders. Justin sipped his coffee, then glanced at Karolin, who was stirring cream into her coffee. She looked up and their eyes met. “Oh, Justin, I’m so happy we can do this. Go out and be together, just you and me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, honey. I enjoy this very much.”

  “But something’s bothering you? Tell me about it.”

  Justin shrugged. “It’s work. I can’t—”

  “We work together. You can tell me.”

  “I can tell you some things, not everything. And not in this case.”

  Karolin cast a wide gaze around the dining room. The nearest patrons—a couple two tables away—had eyes and ears only for one another. Still, she leaned forward and whispered, “I know why Lambert kicked you out of the team.”

  Justin frowned. “He didn’t kick me out. He asked for my reassignment, and our boss approved Lambert’s request.”

  Karolin smiled. “One of his cronies can’t keep a secret. She let me know the rumor is you were somehow implicated in a scandal involving this morning’s terrorist attack.”

  “Really? The attack I almost died to prevent?”

  “Yes. If the truck driver and his associates were caught alive, they could have given you up.”

  Justin snorted. “What? These are the lies Lambert’s spreading around? If I didn’t kill them, they would have run over half the people in the city.”

  “Right. If Lambert’s story is made up, why don’t you tell me the truth?”

  “I wish I could tell you the truth. But you know I can’t.” He sighed. “I can tell you that I had nothing to do with those men. Someone’s trying to frame me, making it appear that somehow I have ties to the terrorist cell.”

  “Who? And why?”

  “I have no idea. But we’re looking into it. And I’ll find out who’s trying to discredit me.”

  “And . . . and that’s why you’re worried?”

  Justin sipped his coffee. “No, not really. My boss knows I’m clean, and none of these charges are true or can be proven. There are always claims about agents being dirty or in bed with terrorists. Sometimes they’re true. Not in this case.”

  “So, what is it then?”

  “I’m worried about what it will take, and where things will lead me.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Some of the players involved in this plot to frame me may be far away from here. I might have to go and find them, wherever they’re hiding. I’ll be away from you.”

  Karolin held Justin’s eyes. “I can go with you.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

  “Why? Because I just started? You’ll need a teammate, someone to watch your back, wherever you are.”

  Justin shook his head. “No, first, it’s because I love you. Look, these places, these God-forsaken places, are holes. Syria. Iraq. Lands of lawlessness and brutality. I . . . I wouldn’t want something to happen to you.” He slowly reached for her hand.

  Karolin nodded. “I understand, Justin, and I appreciate your—”

  “Shhhhh, just listen, honey. You’re not ready. Not yet. Maybe one day will come, when Flavio will dispatch you to those blood- and tear-soaked sands. But not now. And definitely not with me.”

  Karolin opened her mouth, but Justin gave her a smile. “I love you, Karolin.”

  “I love you too, Justin, but—”

  “Let’s not argue, honey. Let’s just enjoy tonight and each other’s company. And the food, whenever it arrives.” He looked toward the kitchen about thirty steps away and in full view of their table. The middle-aged chef and his two assistants were buzzing around like busy bees.

  A crease had wrinkled Karolin’s forehead, but she gave Justin a small nod. “Of course, Justin. I don’t want to waste our time arguing and fighting.” Her lips formed a small smile. “But I want to let you in on a secret. Flavio already knows about it, and I’m sure you’d find out sooner or later. But I want you to hear it from me.”

  Justin frowned. “What is it, Karolin?”

  “Oh, it’s not bad, Justin. I would say it’s good.”

  “Just . . . just tell me.”

  “All right, all right.” Karolin lowered her voice. She glanced around, then over her shoulders. Once she was convinced no one was paying attention to her conversation with Justin, she said, “I didn’t come to the agency without any skills. Last year, when you were in Iraq, I took a couple of online courses, so I could get some training.”

  Justin shook his head. “Online courses aren’t the real thing, Karolin.”

  “Of course, not, Justin. I know that.” Karolin’s voice showed she had anticipated Justin’s reply. “I have had some practice even before that, just curious about guns and spying in general, I guess.” She shrugged. “But I wanted something better, more professional and official.” Karolin held Justin’s eyes for a moment. “So I got in touch with Reinhardt at the BND. You know him, right?”

  Justin’s face began to turn pale. “I know him,” he said in a low, cold voice. He had crossed swords with Lukas Reinhardt, a powerful director working for the BND—which stood for Bundesnachrichtendienst—Germany’s foreign intelligence service. “There’s a lot of bad blood between us.”

  “I know. And that’s why he was the perfect target, giving me the perfect opportunity. I . . . I was trying to find out where you were. You disappeared into Iraq or Syria or wherever you went, and I . . . I wasn’t sure I was going to see you again.” She looked deep into Justin’s eyes.

  “And he was trying to find me as well,” Justin said slowly.

  “Yes, so it was a perfect match. I wasn’t going to give you up, no, of course not.” She shook her head. “But I wanted to know where you were. They . . . Reinhardt’s men taught me what to say when you called, which you never did.”

  “I wanted to keep you out of harm’s way.”

  Karolin nodded. “Yes, yes, I understand that. But Reinhardt believed I was still contacting you, behind his back. So he dispatched a surveillance team, which I expected.”

  Justin smiled. “You learned how to evade them.”

  “Even better. I told Reinhardt I had spotted tails, people following me. I expressed my concerns about these ‘unknown,’ potentially foreign agents, and how whatever I learned about you might fall into their hands.”

  “And he provided you with training.”

  “Yes, and protection. A couple of agents.” Karolin smiled. “But you never called, so BND’s surveillance was in vain.”

  Justin shook his head. “Not exactly. I may have not called, but I had someone keep an eye on you.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “Someone I trust. But if you had BND surveillance at all times, and my man never saw or reported them to me, I doubt h
is skills.”

  “Well, he must be very good since I never saw him. And neither did the BND.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  Karolin shrugged, then reached for her coffee. “They would have told me, and they would have gone after your man and eventually you. None of that happened, did it?” She took a sip.

  “No, but my doubt still remains.”

  “Doubt about what?”

  “If my man was compromised. Maybe BND did get to him.”

  “But they never came for you, so even if he told BND, they never did act on that intel.”

  “That we know of.”

  Karolin frowned and gave Justin a slow worried nod. She understood Justin’s line of thought.

  A clanking of dishes came from behind them, and the waitress materialized with their meal.

  “Why don’t we enjoy our food, honey, and talk about this later?” Justin said. “Maybe this is nothing, and I’m just being paranoid.”

  “Or maybe you’re right, and I screwed up.” She pursed her lips.

  “No, no, you were just trying to look out for me, protect me, in a way. But let’s not worry about it any longer, shall we?”

  Karolin gave Justin an uncertain nod. “Sure, let’s do that.”

  Justin smiled and cut into his rack of lamb.

  Chapter Four

  January 10

  ECS Brussels Station

  Belgium

  Justin woke up drenched in a sea of sweat. He blinked rapidly to clear the disturbing images of his troubled mind. In his nightmares, Karolin died a horrible death at the hands of ISIS henchmen. He shook his head and cursed at the imaginary killers. No, that’s not going to happen. Not on my watch.

  He sat on the side of his bed as his mind went to the operation the previous day in Antwerp. Karolin was one of the agents, following the suspects. She was never in any danger, and she was always at a considerable distance. But what if one of them had noticed her? What if they had opened fire against Karolin and Dolina? I wasn’t there . . . I couldn’t have been there to protect her.

  He cursed again and stood up. I’ll go for a run. That should clear up my foggy mind.