JK's Code (Brooks/Lotello Thriller Book 4)

by Ronald S. Barak

  CHAPTER 80

  May 31, 2020, Three Days Later

  TURGENEV WAS FURIOUS. JAKE Klein was nowhere to be found. Not at his college campus, not at his family’s residence—his agents couldn’t find Klein anywhere.

  But that was them. There was a reason they worked for him, and not the other way around. He hadn’t accomplished all he had in life because he couldn’t outsmart his opponents. Plenty of them.

  In fact, in recent months, he had been working on more revisions of the Russian Constitution that would further consolidate his authority and position, and pave the way for him to become President for Life.

  And Turgenev thought he had figured out how to deal with Klein, just as that smart-ass invited me to do. We’ll see who’s up to the challenge.

  CHAPTER 81

  June 1, 2020, One Day Later

  JAKE READ THE TEXT:

  DEAREST JK,

  WONDERFUL NEWS. THE DOCTORS HAVE SAID MY MOTHER’S HEALTH HAS IMPROVED ENOUGH FOR ME TO RETURN TO MY ENGLISH STUDIES—AND TO YOU. I WANTED TO SURPRISE YOU. I CAME TO SCSU, BUT I HAVE BEEN CONFRONTED BY NOTHING BUT OBSTACLES.

  FIRST, I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO ENTER THE CAMPUS BECAUSE ONLY SCSU STUDENTS, FACULTY, AND EMPLOYEES WITH OFFICIAL IDENTIFICATION CARDS ARE ALLOWED ON THE CAMPUS BECAUSE OF A PANDEMIC LOCKDOWN INSTITUTED BY THE UNIVERSITY.

  I CONTACTED CAMPUS OFFICIALS. WHEN I EXPLAINED TO THEM WHO I WAS, THEY INFORMED ME THAT YOU HAD LEFT THE CAMPUS AND THEY HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR WHEREABOUTS.

  PLEASE TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE SO I CAN COME JOIN YOU. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU! I MISS YOU SO MUCH.

  LOVE, ANYA

  He froze dead in his tracks.

  CHAPTER 82

  June 2, 2020, One Day Later

  TURGENEV ALWAYS DID ENJOY a good fight. It kept him on his toes.

  “I wrote the text for her, just like you and I discussed,” her handler said to Turgenev. “She sent it to him.”

  “And?” Turgenev asked her handler, who sat across from him in his office.

  “He hasn’t responded,” the handler said.

  “This Klein seems to have pretty good instincts,” Turgenev observed, as much to himself as his aide. “Let me ask you something. How do you know she sent the text?”

  “Three reasons: one—she told me she did, and I trust her not to take a chance by lying to us. Two—because she blind copied me on the text. And three—most significantly, because we have a hidden monitor on her smartphone. The text she sent is there.”

  “Three reasons should be enough,” Turgenev said, “but I’m still not convinced. Keep an eye on her, and keep me informed.”

  AFTER THE MAN LEFT, Turgenev paced about his opulent office. He stared out the floor-to-ceiling window at the flowing river below that always helped him to relax and organize his thoughts. Finally, he sent an encrypted text of his own:

  WE CANNOT REST WELL UNTIL WE HAVE DISPOSED OF THIS JAKE KLEIN ONCE AND FOR ALL. HE TROUBLES ME. I THINK IT MAY BE TIME TO IMPLEMENT OUR PLAN B.

  Of course, he didn’t mention his own Plan B.

  The recipient promptly replied:

  UNDERSTAND AND AGREE.

  JAKE THOUGHT IT SEEMED like such a good strategy at the time, back before the Red Crier smear campaign made him persona non grata. There was only one consideration then: find a way to validate and implement his new software program. But now, there was a second concern: find a way to stay alive long enough to carry out his first objective, if that first objective remained possible post Red Crier. And post COVID-19 as well. Planning is definitely a lot easier than doing.

  He wondered why lately his mind kept going back in time. Perhaps it was more comforting—and less frightening—than looking forward at all that confronted him. And the world.

  First, he had dwelled on his high school English teacher and her panel of experts on getting past hurdles and blocks. The ones who had helped him push through his new software program.

  Now, oddly, he found himself continuing to recite some old slogan, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Kind of like an old song he couldn’t get out of his mind. Why this mantra? What did his subconscious know that he didn’t? Where, somewhere, had he learned this phrase?

  Finally, it came to him. An old history teacher had spent an entire class session on that catchphrase one day. Turned out, it had been around forever, but Winston Churchill had reportedly updated it during World War II when he said, “If Hitler had invaded Hell, I would’ve introduced the Devil to the English House of Commons.”

  More recently, he tried to recall his thoughts when he first read the Red Crier phony news bulletin about him: “Turgenev. Molloy. Gradsky. Nilsen. Cipher. Amir. Carter. Baker. Baker’s supporters. The DNC. Gali. Anya.” Are they all my enemies? Any among them I can actually trust? Anyone?

  He had decided to reach out to someone he hoped he could count on—his computer, with himself at the helm. He had said “for as long as he could.” Was he now past “as long as he could?” The devil you know…

  He couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to respond to Anya’s text. He bought a burner phone with some prepaid minutes with cash. He sent her the following text:

  HAPPY TO HEAR YOUR MOM IS IMPROVED. ON A JOURNEY NOW I MUST FACE ON MY OWN. WILL BE IN TOUCH WHEN I CAN. JK.

  After hitting send, Jake removed the SIM card from the burner phone, cut the card in half with one of the spare razors in his toilet kit, and then crushed the burner phone into several pieces, depositing each piece into a number of isolated shallow graves here and there. Not likely the phone can be reconstructed. Or used to trace me.

  He had another call to make. But he would use his own smartphone for this one. All he had to do was power it back up.

  ANYA READ JAKE’S TEXT. She was frightened that her handler might view this as a sign of failure on her part. She immediately tried to reply, but received only the following response:

  THE NUMBER YOU HAVE TRIED TO REACH IS NO LONGER IN SERVICE. IF YOU THINK THIS MESSAGE WAS RECEIVED IN ERROR, PLEASE TRY AGAIN.

  TURGENEV LISTENED TO THE news quietly. He was not surprised. “Pending further instructions, tell her to try him again once every other day.”

  JAKE WATCHED THE DRIVER pull up to the confirmed pickup point. He hopped in the passenger seat and closed the door. His missing beard and the mask covering much of his face didn’t matter. It must have been his eyes.

  “Mr. JK!” Amir shouted. “Look young.”

  CHAPTER 83

  June 3, 2020, One Day Later

  ABELSON HAD BEEN INVITED to telephonically attend another one of the daily meetings of the senior Mossad officers which was in session. Mossad had received confirmation that its Russian asset had been identified—and eliminated. Even halfway across the world, Abelson could see—and feel—the cloud of sadness and anger that hung over the room. He could relate. Not only because he was now an Israeli, but also because his family had emigrated to Israel from Russia when he was still an infant.

  “Considering the alternative, it may be best for him,” one attendee said. “However bad it was at the end, at least it’s over. He isn’t hurting anymore.”

  “Do we still feel we must remain hands off where Klein is concerned?” another officer asked.

  “We still can’t operate on U.S. soil,” said another at the table.

  “Our asset must not be allowed to have died serving no good purpose,” said his handler. “There are things we can do to help protect Klein without violating international or Israeli protocols. We must do what we can.”

  “But how do we avoid meddling in the election or any other U.S. domestic matters?” asked the meeting chair.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck who wins their election,” said the deceased asset’s handler. “All I care about is doing whatever we can to assure that the election is conducted honestly. And that the life of our fallen colleague is well-honored.”

  The sentiment in the room was unanimous. The only question was how best for Abelson and the others
to carry it out.

  JAKE HAD EXPLAINED TO Amir why he had tracked him down, and what he somehow hoped to accomplish—with Amir’s help. “Your life will be in danger if you decide to help me,” Jake warned Amir.

  “Give minute think,” Amir said. Ten seconds later: “Okay, think. Amir enemy of your enemy. Russia. We do together. Very pleased help. I drive. Register in motels using name in fake passport. No one know. Travel from Kazakhstan here using fake passports. Very safe. No problem use fake passport here. Do all time. Where go first?”

  “Thanks, Amir. I don’t know where we need to go first, but what I do know is we have to leave New Haven right now—because this is the first place Turgenev’s gangsters will look.”

  One hour later, they were on the road. New Haven was a speck in the rearview mirror of Amir’s car. And, as it turned out, none too soon.

  TURGENEV KNEW HE WAS technically butting up against the deal, but he decided to take a chance. I’m not threatening anyone, and I don’t think Klein will forfeit his own ambitions so easily.

  THE TWO “HARVARD” OFFICIALS, compliments of the Russian Embassy, had no problem getting through SCSU security and to Jake’s campus apartment. All they had to do was produce their forged Harvard Medical Center identity cards, and explain that Jake Klein had recently been together with a Harvard foreign exchange student by the name of Anya Lebedev, and that Lebedev was now testing positive for COVID-19. They produced a supporting statement signed by Ms. Lebedev. They were tracing and testing everyone who recently came in contact with her, and they had to locate Mr. Klein as quickly as possible.

  They were escorted by SCSU campus police to Jake’s campus apartment, and knocked on the door. Jake’s roommate was a bit more daunting than the campus police.

  “Just a minute. I need to put a mask on.” A moment later, the door was opened by a nondescript male student wearing a mask who backed six feet away from the door after opening it.

  “Are you Jake Klein?” one of the Harvard officials asked him.

  “Nope. He’s my roommate,” the young man answered.

  “Can you please show us some identification?”

  “Sure. Just a sec.” The student went to a table, opened his wallet, pulled out a driver’s license, and flashed it to the visitors.

  One of the men, wearing a mask and gloves, reached for the driver’s license.

  The student quickly pulled his driver’s license away.

  “I need to inspect your license. I’m masked and gloved, for Pete’s sake. And I’m tested every other day. All of my tests have been negative.”

  “Nice to hear. Please ask the other three with you to move back.” They did. Only then, the student stepped forward, and handed his license to the masked and gloved individual, who remained at the door.

  The official examined the license and handed it back to the student. “Do you have any idea where Mr. Klein is?” he asked the student.

  The student again backed away from the door. “I don’t. He told me he was working on a project of some kind, and was heading to Minneapolis for a few weeks.”

  “Did he leave any kind of note?”

  “Nope.”

  “Any kind of forwarding address or contact?”

  “Sorry.”

  “What if you need to get hold of him?”

  “I have his cell phone.”

  “Seems like you might be holding back on me,” the official said.

  “Hey, man, I’m his roommate, not his mother. And not his keeper. Are we done? I got stuff to do.”

  “Just another moment,” the Harvard official said. “Do you mind if we come in and look through the apartment?”

  “Are you kidding me?” the student asked through his mask. “That doesn’t feel right to me. Do you have some kind of paperwork authorizing you to do that?”

  The official turned to the campus police. “Can you help us with this?”

  “Not unless you have a warrant,” one of the officers responded.

  “We’ll be back!” the official said and they stormed off.

  “Hold up!” one of the officers said. “We need to escort you off the campus. And you’ll need to have a warrant to get back on. We care about our students here.”

  JAKE’S ROOMMATE CLOSED AND locked the apartment door. Interesting that they didn’t ask to test me since I had been in JK’s company. He posted a three-word message on his Instagram account:

  IMPRESSIVE CLOUD FORMATION!

  The three-word post was accompanied by an image of a breathtaking cloudy sky.

  CHAPTER 84

  June 4, 2020, One Day Later

  TURGENEV SCOWLED AT NO one in particular.

  His aide took a step back. He had no difficulty reading the mood blanketing the room in spite of the mask blanketing Turgenev’s face.

  “Minneapolis my ass!” Turgenev exclaimed. If the roommate said Minneapolis, to the west, we can be sure he’s headed somewhere to the south because he can’t get very far going north or east. “This punk kid is messing with me. We’ll see just where that gets him.”

  He had decided not to take a chance approaching Klein’s sister as he had done with his roommate. There was too much chance that Klein would feel Turgenev was violating Klein’s conditions, even though he hadn’t balked when Turgenev’s agents approached his roommate—which Turgenev guessed Klein knew by now.

  “Let’s not send anyone to call on Klein’s sister,” he said to his aide. “She’s an experienced lawyer. We’re not likely to fool her. It’ll be a waste of time.” And I’ll be damned if I’m going to give Klein the satisfaction of embarrassing me again.

  “Yes sir, Mr. President,” the aide said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Did I ask you to do anything else?”

  “No, Mr. President!”

  “Then you have your answer. For now.”

  JAKE CLOSED HIS INSTAGRAM account. He explained to Amir what the cloud formation meant. “They’re after us,” he said. “Well, they’re after me.” Technically, Turgenev violated my ground rules by approaching my roommate. He was smart enough to know I have a dog in this hunt, and wouldn’t pull the plug on my own goals over something that tacky. It wasn’t like he threatened my roommate. But if he tries something like that with my family, I’ll have no choice but to blow the whistle on him. I think he’s smart enough not to press his luck with my family, though.

  “No worry, Mr. JK. Okay to say us. We are team. Amir not afraid.”

  Jake selected a cheap local bed and breakfast in Raleigh, Virginia. Amir sought to register for the room because Jake figured his pursuers would not know of Amir or be able to connect Amir’s identification. Jake was concerned that Amir’s heavy accent and poor English and the dark color of his Muslim skin might prove problematic. However, fifteen minutes later, Amir opened the locked door at the end of the hallway opposite the lobby where Jake had remained outside while Amir went to register. “Any trouble?” Jake asked when they went up the back steps and were safely in “Amir’s” room.

  “Man at counter not friendly,” Amir answered. “Amir’s looks and language not help.” He ask for identification. Amir show fake passport, Connecticut driver’s license same name, credit card same name, and cash want use to pay because afraid robbers might take cash. That worked. Man take photo of papers and put credit card in machine, but say only use credit card if not pay in cash when leave.”

  “This is a nuisance, I know. The problem is that we had to run before I was really organized and ready. I have another week or two of work to do on my computer program before I’ll be geared up for our destination.”

  “No worry, JK. Handled registration. And have English schoolbooks and famous literary novels. Will work on English while you work on computer. Can also be tourist and walk around town.”

  “English yes, tourist no,” Jake said. Turgenev has people looking for me. They don’t know you’re with me, or your fake name, but they may know what you look like.”

  “Yes. Good
thinking. By the way, what is destination when computer ready?”

  Fortunately, Jake didn’t know yet. He didn’t want to lie to Amir.

  CHAPTER 85

  June 7, 2020, Three Days Later

  ABELSON HAD TRIED REPEATEDLY for three days in succession to reach Jake. He even used his phone on the Sabbath—an orthodox Jewish taboo. He tried Jake’s smartphone. He tried each of his three computers. No luck. Jake had shut everything down. The man obviously wants to be off the grid. Period. After three days of getting nowhere, he reported to Tel Aviv. Everyone agreed, there was nothing more to be done unless Jake reached out to Abelson. If he did.

  CHAPTER 86

  June 17, 2020, Ten Days Later

  JAKE AND AMIR MOVED every two days. They had traveled as far south as Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. They were now back in a little area outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. Jake thought it wise not to move in a straight line toward their first destination. He was finally almost finished with his software program, just a few more finishing touches and tests to work through. Of course, the real test would not come until they reached that destination.

  He now had more devices than an electronics store. He had shut down his three computers and his smartphone so no one could possibly track him. Or even reach out to him because he wasn’t ready to talk with anyone. Not yet. He had bought a fourth computer with cash to safely do his work. There was no way anyone could track him on that device. He had also bought five more cheapie burner phones.