The Zimmer Doctrine (Corps Justice Book 11)

by Cooper, C. G.

  Yes, it would be nice to live with such luxuries. He’d lived frugally the day he’d left his parents’ house at eighteen. He’d scrimped and saved, and now it was all paying off. A quiet life in the heartland beckoned and Collier couldn’t wait for this new chapter to begin.

  With his stomach full from what might possibly be his last Subway sandwich, he ascended the last rise that would lead him into his humble home. The agent he’d hired to put the house on the market said it would easily sell in a week's time. It had taken him every ounce of newfound entitlement not to negotiate her commission. It would be worth every penny if she did all the work. He smiled at that fact as he closed in on a couple coming from the opposite direction. The woman was laughing and her boyfriend or husband was tickling her.

  Collier moved farther to the right to get out of their way. They barely seemed to notice him until the last moment. Then the man looked up in surprise as he veered in front of Collier, courtesy of a playful shove from the woman.

  “Oh, man, I’m sorry,” the guy said.

  “No problem,” Collier answered, ducking his head and walking past them.

  The man caught him by the shoulder.

  “Hey, can we buy you a drink? Peace offering?”

  “Yeah, come on. We’re celebrating and Ben’s such a bore,” the woman said, her words slurring.

  “Uh, no thanks,” Collier answered. That was when he noticed that half the lights on the block were out, including the two on his porch. Strange.

  “Hey, are you Rudolf Collier?” the man asked.

  Collier answered without thinking, his mind too engaged with the darkened street. “It’s Rudy, and if you don’t mind, I have to go.”

  “Ha, Rudolf. That’s a funny name,” the woman laughed.

  But the man was close to him now, his grip tight on Collier’s arm.

  “Let go of…”

  Collier’s next words came out in a squeak as he felt something blunt and hard against his ribs.

  “Mr. Baxter says thanks, Rudolf.”

  Collier’s eyes bulged. The sixth name on the list. The name he’d made disappear before briefing Zimmer. The name he’d contacted and who’d made him rich. Why would Baxter...? Collier tried to scream as whatever the man had in his hand came up to face level. He realized it was a gun with a long silencer on the end just as the man squeezed the trigger.

  Three wounds entered Rudy Collier’s forehead in rapid succession. A second later, his body flopped, motionless, to the ground.

  The gun was already back in the man’s pocket as he turned and put his arm back around his partner’s waist. She giggled again, kissed him on the lips, and the pair walked away as if nothing had happened.

  +++

  Great Sale Cay

  Hannah struggled to find the words. Perlstein seethed. Baxter waited.

  “Why do you think I am a spy, Mr. Baxter?”

  “Efraim, will you excuse us please?” Baxter asked. It wasn’t a request but rather an order.

  Perlstein said something under his breath, got up from his chair and, upon his departure, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar. Once the door was closed, Baxter continued.

  “Do you think you were the only one?”

  Hannah stomach turned. More riddles?

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Americans are very clever. They lost some of their nerve after 9/11 but they have since regained it.”

  “You’ve lost me, Mr. Baxter.”

  “I apologize, both for the intrigue, and for Efraim. He can be such a pest.”

  Hannah nodded, wanting to take a long pull from her drink, but not trusting her shaking hands. Baxter either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

  Baxter went on. “Let me guess. You were recruited in university?” Hannah didn’t move. “That was where they found me. Of course, the initial introduction was through my father who was always uncovering helpful ways to take advantage of foreign powers, but this time it was me they wanted.”

  “I don’t understand what you are saying,” Hannah said.

  Baxter grinned. “Come now, Ms. Krygier. I’m telling you my secret, so why don’t we dispense with the lie? It took me a lot of time and a good bit of money to find out the truth. Would you like to hear the story?”

  Despite her own feelings, Hannah nodded.

  After sipping his drink, Baxter said, “In the 1970's, someone in the American government had the brilliant idea of finding influential men and women in their early twenties to recruit for long-term missions. Much like sleeper cells they would, or should I say we would, lie dormant until we discovered some imminent danger that would affect the United States. The Americans ended up with six recruits, you and I being two of them. From what I’ve pieced together, the other four were from Japan, The Soviet Union, Mexico and Canada. A strange mix, I know, but clever in its own way. Well, the Soviet mole was discovered barely a year after being established. The KGB tried to ransom him back but the Americans flatly denied the man’s existence as a spy. He was jailed and then found dead the next day. The Mexican spy died of natural causes. I found and killed both the Canadian and the Japanese moles.”

  He said it casually, as if he’d just explained his family recipe for bread pudding.

  “So that leaves the two of us. As luck would have it, I had no idea you were the other mole until a recent phone call from a former colleague. At first I thought that killing you might be the best course. But once I had a moment to think and really digest the possibilities, I wondered if this might not be a blessing in disguise. So that brings us here, to this moment. Do you have any questions?”

  Hannah's heart pounded in her chest. Questions? How could he ask such a thing? If Baxter wasn’t some sort of sociopath, he was undoubtedly the best actor she’d ever come in contact with. She reminded herself that she had to keep her wits. That’s what they’d said when they’d recruited her, a fresh-faced coed with the political contacts to establish an Israeli dynasty. There had been so much risk involved, but she’d viewed it as an exciting adventure. It also provided her the means to keep her country safe while forging a deeper bond with one of their most needed allies, the Americans.

  “What do you propose?” she asked, trying to find that younger version of herself that hadn’t been afraid of the monsters lurking in the dark of night.

  “I’ll have to think about it. With the storm coming…” The phone on his desk rang and Baxter looked up with the tiniest hint of annoyance. “Excuse me.”

  He got up from his seat and snatched up the receiver.

  “Yes?”

  Whatever the person on the other end said made Baxter frown. The acting was gone. Less than thirty seconds after the call had ended Baxter rejoined his guest.

  “Is everything alright?” Hannah asked.

  Baxter didn’t answer her immediately. He was staring at the coffee table, his expression pensive. He looked up a full minute later and said, “I apologize, Ms. Krygier. Might I suggest we finish our conversation in the morning?”

  He rose again and made his way to the door.

  Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was he just going to let her go? And then she realized that there was no place to go. She was on an island in the middle of a hurricane surrounded by Baxter’s servants who were most certainly spying for their master.

  Baxter opened the door an inch and then stopped. He looked at her, his eyes calm, and he said, “Please stay in your room until George comes to fetch you in the morning, Ms. Krygier. It turns out that there are more American spies in our midst. I daresay they’ve taken advantage of my hospitality.” He shook his head, his eyes bright once more. He smiled. “No matter. The nuisance will be dealt with before you awake. Good night, Ms. Krygier.”

  “Good night,” she replied as she passed through the door. She thought only of Maya. Her presence and the phone call could not be a coincidence. She had to do something, but what?

  Chapter 32

  Great Sale Cay

/>   The Bahamas

  August 29th, 8:46pm

  They’d moved to what Baxter said was a more secure location. The room was on the first level of the massive home and when you looked out the window all you could see was the steep drop-off to the ocean below. No beach, just water.

  Master Sergeant Trent had been the first to test the window.

  “Thick,” he said as his knocking only elicited a deep thud. Amazingly, they couldn’t even hear the storm raging outside.

  They killed time by trying to come up with a plan. What they really needed was to contact their second team in Freeport or Zimmer in Washington. Someone needed to know that they’d found Hannah Krygier. They were sitting blind, deaf, and mute and no one was more frustrated than Neil. He worked furiously to try to get something to work. Nothing did, but he didn’t stop.

  Then the squawk came followed by another. Neil looked up. “Was that the radio?”

  Gaucho walked over to the small encrypted radio they’d brought along as backup to all of Neil’s fancy gadgetry. It squawked again, and this time a single word came out, “Inbound.”

  Neil jumped from his chair as everyone else gathered around. Even Maya, still shocked from the surprise of seeing Hannah, came over.

  Neil fiddled with the knobs, trying to acquire a better signal. They were out of range of the main island, but if someone was coming to help…

  This time the transmission came through clearly.

  “Fletch inbound. I repeat, Fletch inbound.”

  “How the hell?” Neil asked.

  Daniel grabbed the mike and keyed it, “Fletch, this is Snake Eyes. How do you copy?”

  “Solid copy, over,” Benny Fletcher said over the radio.

  There was a collective sigh of relief in the room until Daniel asked in disbelief, “Are they flying through that?” He pointed to the window at the storm wreaking havoc across the island. Then he keyed the mike again. “What’s your ETA, over?”

  “Ten mikes,” came the reply, this time sounding more garbled than before.

  Cal stared at the radio, amazed that anyone could fly through the gale-force winds. Benny Fletcher was in a for a few free beers if he made it.

  “Roger. Let us know when you’re close. Snake Eyes, out.”

  Daniel set the mike back on the table and looked at Cal. “Looks like we just caught a break.”

  +++

  Chance Baxter read the report from his head of security. So, someone was stupid enough to brave the wind and torrential rains to reach his island. Baxter had to tip his hat to the brave fool, but that would have to wait.

  “Make the necessary preparations please,” Baxter ordered.

  The security chief nodded and ran down the hall.

  “What is going on?” an annoyed Perlstein inquired as he staggered out of his room. He still had a glass in his hand, and it was obvious by his lilt that he hadn’t stopped drinking since leaving the meeting with Hannah Krygier.

  “We have uninvited guests coming,” Baxter answered.

  That seemed to sober Perlstein up a bit.

  “What? Who?”

  “It seems as though some noble warrior is trying to rescue his friends.”

  “Who?”

  “It is most likely Americans coming to the rescue of their friends.”

  Spittle came out of Perlstein’s mouth when he spoke.

  “Americans? Here?”

  Baxter wanted to slap the man.

  “It was inevitable, really. Don’t worry, I have things well in hand.”

  “How? How could you deal with American soldiers?”

  Baxter smiled patiently and said, “You don’t think I’d build this house without a few surprises, would you?”

  +++

  There had been one more transmission from Fletcher. The helo was five minutes out. Maybe luck was on their side. Cal hoped it would stay that way. He was about to say as much when a loud clicking sound hushed the room.

  “What was that?” Trent asked. Then he pointed to the air vent on the ceiling. “That thing was open a second ago.”

  Then they heard the clicking sound again, and this time it was followed by a loud scraping, like steel grating against steel. It stopped suddenly, but they all felt the final vibration in their feet.

  Cal scanned the room. Nothing looked amiss except for the air vent. Then he tried the door. It was locked. He pulled on it, still nothing.

  “Top, give me a hand,” he said.

  Trent came over and gripped the handle. He pulled and Cal could hear the door creak in complaint. Then, with a final yank, the door came off its hinges.

  That wasn’t the end of it though. There, behind where the door had just hung was another door. Cal knocked on it. Steel. He searched the seams but it looked airtight.

  “What the hell?”

  Then he heard a lighter scraping sound and turned to see four rectangular holes in the wall where a moment ago there had just been plaster.

  “Get to the other side of the room,” Cal said, every muscle in his body tensed for what was coming next.

  He didn’t have to wait long. He scooped Liberty up in his arms as the next surprise came. With the force of a fire hose, water sprayed from the holes in the wall, slamming Gaucho against the wall. Trent went to help him as the others stayed clear of the powerful streams.

  The water hadn’t been running for thirty seconds and already the water was up to their ankles. Everyone was looking around the room trying to find an escape route. Trent went at the windows with a chair, while Daniel stood on Gaucho’s shoulders as he tried to pry one of the air vents open. It didn’t take them long to figure out that they were trapped. By that time, the water had risen to their waists.

  Chapter 33

  Great Sale Cay

  The Bahamas

  August 29th, 8:52pm

  The gusts had batted them around since takeoff. More than one of the TJG warriors in the back had availed himself of the conveniently placed barf bags. It was the worst conditions Benny Fletcher had ever flown in, and that was saying something based on his thousands of hours in the air.

  “Island in sight,” he announced to the Powers brothers. Johnny Powers was in the co-pilot's seat.

  It took Johnny a second to find the island with his night vision.

  “Got it,” he said. “What are you aiming for?”

  Benny laughed. “Whatever’s biggest.”

  Another torrent of wind buffeted them left and the Pave Low lost altitude. Benny muscled it back, the veins in his neck bulging as he tried to get them back on course. When he did, he glanced over at Johnny who gave him a thumbs-up. There had been a lot of thumbs-up since they’d taken off from Freeport. Both pilots knew they’d need all the luck they could muster, and if a thumbs-up helped bolster their chances, then thumbs-up were free for the day.

  Benny could make out the house now. There were spotlights and most of the windows were illuminated. He decided to steer clear just in case another gust of wind blew them into the impressive structure.

  And that's when he saw the flashes from the ground. The glass in front of his eyes splintered. Muscle memory kicked in and he banked right, away from the mansion and away from the gunfire. He couldn’t hear it, but he could imagine that whoever was down there was probably putting holes all over the big bird.

  “We’ve got one hit in the back,” Jim Powers’s voice said over the radio.

  “All systems green,” Johnny Powers announced.

  At least there was that, and now they knew what they were getting into. There’d been the conversation before lift off when the TJG team leader asked the pilots if they knew what the threat might be. Johnny Powers had shrugged and said, “If it shoots at us, we shoot back.”

  With that question answered, Benny imagined the boys in the back were clutching their weapons tight. Now, if he could only get them on the ground.

  +++

  Baxter watched as the Pave Low banked away from the house, and he marveled as the tracers
from his crack security team streaked into the sky. They were the best. Some were French Foreign Legion, and the others came from a combination of special forces and high-level police forces, similar to American SWAT teams. There were only ten men total, but they knew every inch of the island as well as the Baxter complex.

  Baxter smiled and looked down at his desk. There was an old-fashioned meter that looked like a thermometer, except it had dark-blue liquid, and it was almost to the top. In another minute or two, he would press the button at the bottom of the meter.

  He looked over at Perlstein who was trying to sober up with a cup of coffee.

  “You look worried, Efraim. Is the coffee not helping?”

  Perlstein scowled. “I thought you said they couldn’t get to the island.”

  Baxter shrugged. “It wasn’t a certainty but now that they’re here, why not let my men have a little fun?”

  Perlstein didn’t reply. He was a politician, not a warrior. He didn’t understand the thrill of the hunt. He’d never experienced the adrenaline rush of seeing a man die. It was what man was built for - war. Baxter’s family had been fighting wars since his ancestors first stepped foot on the island of Great Britain. It was what they’d been bred for and it was how they raised their children.

  Yes, it was good to purge the needs from his blood. Baxter just wished he could look into the eyes of the dying men before they plunged to their deaths.

  +++

  They were all treading water now. Cal was trying his best to keep both his and Liberty’s heads above water. The dog didn’t struggle. That made things easier, but it still kept Cal’s hands full. He couldn’t let her go.

  There was maybe a foot of air left between his head and the ceiling. They were all searching in vain for a way out. Luckily, no one was panicking. Even Maya was swimming back and forth, her strokes strong as she tried to pry another air vent open.