The Malta Escape

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The Malta Escape Page 33

by Chris Kuzneski


  As expected, Jarkko was able to help as well. Not only with men from his own network of smugglers—which was based in Helsinki and was far more vast than he had ever let on to Payne and Jones—but also with personnel on Suomenlinna. That was the main reason he had selected this island fortress as their battleground. He had sailed past it thousands of times on his way in and out of the harbor and was quite friendly with the Suomenlinna staff. He knew visitors would be long gone by 9:00 p.m. And thanks to the short northern nights, the sun wouldn’t go down until long after Volkov had fallen.

  That is, if things went the way they hoped.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Even with a sneak attack, Volkov realized he was at a slight disadvantage. He had roughly a day to plan an assault on an island fortress in Helsinki, where he would be facing a Finn, two former special forces operatives, and a horde of Kaiser’s faceless thugs.

  But thanks to Blokhin and his team of hackers, Volkov felt confident that he could pull it off. Not only could they erase his presence with their digital tricks, but they could also give him something that the other side didn’t have: a squadron of remotely piloted drones.

  The idea had come to Blokhin shortly after seeing the name “Suomenlinna” in the digital text that he had decrypted. He had remembered reading an article about a test that the Finnish postal service had conducted in 2015 where they had used drones to deliver packages of varying shapes and sizes between Helsinki and the island fortress, and he felt they could do something similar.

  Having served as a test pilot for Volkov during the past year while working out the networking kinks, Blokhin knew that his boss owned several drones for aerial surveillance, and he suggested that this might be a good time to use them.

  Volkov heartily agreed and added them to the rest of the equipment that he would be exporting from Russia via the Baltic Sea. He had no idea what the other side would be bringing, but he planned to exceed them in every way.

  He would bring more men.

  He would bring more weapons.

  And he would bring down his opponent.

  In his mind, this would be his best victory yet.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Payne’s jet landed in Helsinki in the early afternoon, then it taxied to a private hangar. Jarkko had made all of the arrangements in advance and directed the pilot where to go.

  Both Payne and Jones sensed this wasn’t the first time that Jarkko had used these facilities, a fact that Jarkko confirmed when he let it slip that it normally housed his plane.

  Jones blinked a few times. “You have a plane?”

  Jarkko nodded. “Of course Jarkko have plane. How else would Jarkko fly to yacht?”

  “By buying a ticket.”

  Jarkko grimaced at the thought of all the restrictions on commercial flights. “That is no good for Jarkko. Jarkko hates tiny bottles. Jarkko prefers big ones filled with vodka, so Jarkko buys plane instead. In long run, Jarkko saves money.”

  Payne followed his logic. “The man has a point.”

  Jones thought back to when they had first met Jarkko. At the time, they had assumed he was a humble fisherman, who would help them get into Russia for a few thousand dollars. Little did they know that Kaiser had entrusted their safety to one of his most important smugglers in Eastern Europe. “Dammit, Jon. Why did I waste so much time as a detective? I could have been making the big bucks with Jarkko all along.”

  Jarkko shook his head. “Jarkko does not need partner. Jarkko needs assistant. Does David remember how Jarkko likes his coffee?”

  Jones grinned, recalling the nasty concoction that Jarkko had nicknamed Kafka and had forced them to drink during their first introduction. “No water, just vodka.”

  Jarkko laughed and put Jones in a friendly headlock. “David remembers! If David keeps this up, he won’t be homeless for long!”

  As the pilot parked the plane and activated the automatic door, Payne smiled at the scene. He knew things would get more serious as their battle approached, but for now, they were just good friends horsing around for possibly the last time. “I hope that means what I think it means: you want to adopt DJ! You can’t believe how long I’ve waited for this day to come! And with me out of work, the timing is perfect!”

  Jones reached out for Payne and pretended to wail. “No Mommy! Don’t let Uncle Jarkko take me! Bad touch! Bad touch!”

  Jarkko laughed and rubbed the top of Jones’s head. “Jarkko has always wanted bambino. Jarkko will name him Työtön. That is Finnish word for ‘unemployed’.”

  Payne was about to follow Jarkko’s joke with one of his own when an outsider entered the plane through the open hatch. Payne instinctively reached for his holstered gun and was ready to shoot the interloper if necessary, until he realized who the visitor was.

  Dressed in his usual attire, Kaiser was wearing dark blue jeans, a faded T-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. In his late-fifties with a medium build and slicked-back gray hair, he wasn’t the type of man who would stand out in a crowd, except for two noticeable things: he wore a black patch over his left eye and walked with a severe limp.

  The injuries had occurred in the woods near Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, while helping Payne and Jones on one of their adventures. An enemy combatant had tried to kill Kaiser with a Remington 750, a heavy-duty rifle frequently used for large game like hogs and bears. Although the gunman had missed Kaiser’s head by a few inches, the bullet had struck the boulder that Kaiser had been hiding behind. The resulting shards had erupted into Kaiser’s face, tearing through the soft flesh of his cheek and causing significant damage to his left eye.

  Forced to flee the gunman on foot, Kaiser had sprinted through the woods toward an underground bunker that they had been protecting. Under heavy fire, he had leapt through the open hole in order to escape his pursuer, but Kaiser had landed awkwardly, rupturing his patellar tendon and tearing every major ligament in his left knee with a sickening snap.

  And yet, his “snap” had paled in comparison to the one that followed. When the gunman made it to the bunker, he had peered through the open hole and spotted an unconscious Kaiser. He had raised his rifle to finish the job, but before he could, Payne had grabbed him from behind. Needing to kill the man in silence, Payne had twisted the man’s head with so much force that the vertebrae in his neck had popped like corn in a microwave. After that, Payne had tended to Kaiser’s multiple wounds until they were able to get him off the mountain.

  “I see nothing has changed,” Kaiser announced with a smile. “Jarkko and DJ are still acting like assholes.”

  Jarkko heard Kaiser’s voice and turned to greet his friend. Unfortunately for Jones, Jarkko forgot to release him from the headlock before he made the turn, and the resulting torque slammed Jones into one of the plane’s reclining chairs.

  Jarkko quickly let go. “Sorry, Työtön. Daddy didn’t mean it.”

  Jones rubbed his side. “Tell that to my broken ribs.”

  Kaiser chimed in. “Trust me, it could’ve been worse.”

  Jones winced, oblivious. “Oh, yeah. How do you figure?”

  Kaiser held up his cane and pointed to his eye patch.

  Jarkko laughed. “Kaiser is right! Next time Jarkko aim for face!”

  The four of them quickly exchanged pleasantries inside the plane, briefly catching up on old times before focusing on the matter at hand. Kaiser filled them in on the advanced reconnaissance that his team had done and let them know what equipment he had brought to help them achieve their goals, including a few special items from Payne Industries. He also let them know that every surveillance camera in the facility had been disconnected to prevent Volkov’s hackers from getting a sneak peak at their strategy.

  Payne and Jones were quite appreciative of his groundwork, but they also realized that he had limited experience in the field. For this to work as smoothly as possible, they knew they were going to have to take the lead.

  They just hoped that Kaiser agreed.

  Payne spoke
up. “I know that we just rolled into town, and you’ve been here scouting things for a while. But if it’s okay with you, we had a few ideas on how this should go down.”

  Kaiser said nothing at first. He just stared at him with his one good eye.

  Like an angry Cyclops, who was capable of violence at any time.

  A few seconds passed before a smile appeared on Kaiser’s face. “Well, thank God for that! I was a fucking supply sergeant, not a decorated war hero. My job was to get equipment to the right place, then I sat back and watched you bullet catchers do the dirty work. You saw what happened the last time I was in the muck. You killed the bad guys, and I left on a stretcher.”

  Payne laughed, relieved. “I wasn’t sure you remembered that. You were unconscious and leaking oil at the time.”

  “Trust me,” Kaiser assured him. “I remember my debts, and I owe you big time for saving my life. That’s why I was so excited to get your call. It’s finally my chance to save yours.”

  Jones smiled. “And eliminate one of your biggest competitors.”

  Kaiser grinned. “That’s just an added bonus.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Payne, Jones, Jarkko, and Kaiser left the plane and walked across the private hangar to a giant whiteboard where a few of Kaiser’s top men had gathered. Kaiser had prepped a lot of briefing rooms in his day, so he had everything that they needed, including a giant map of Suomenlinna and enough food to satisfy everyone’s appetite, including Payne’s.

  In Finnish, Suomen means “Finland” and linna means “castle”, but there was never an actual castle on this island complex. Built as a bastion fortress by the Swedes in 1748, Suomenlinna had expanded over the decades. In the early years, it had been tasked with defending Helsinki, but after the Finnish Civil War in 1918, the purpose of the military base had started to evolve.

  First, a prison camp was built on one of the islands. Then in 1973, the complex was turned over to a civilian administration known as the Governing Body of Suomenlinna, and the presence of the military was drastically scaled back. Although a minimum-security penal colony still remains, Suomenlinna is one of the most popular tourist destinations in all of Finland. Several museums exist on the islands, as well as the last surviving Finnish submarine, Vesikko.

  During his advance research, Payne had learned that Finland was banned from operating submarines after World War II because of the 1947 Paris Peace Treaty. As one of five subs to serve the Finnish Navy, the Vesikko had been kept in storage—while the others were sold and scrapped—until she could be turned into a museum ship. He hoped to tour the small vessel once this confrontation was over, but for the time being, he managed to stay on task.

  As usual, Jones was the one in charge of tactics, a rarity in most military units since that duty normally fell to the lead officer. But Payne had never played by the rules. He had always believed it was the team leader’s job to maximize the strengths of his squad, and he had recognized Jones’s ability quite early on and had never regretted it. Despite his boyish energy and teenage sense of humor, Jones was a gray-bearded wizard when it came to strategy.

  In this field alone, he was the oracle.

  Able to see things before they even happened.

  Jones introduced himself to Kaiser’s men, who sat on folding chairs in front of the whiteboard. Jarkko and Kaiser grabbed seats in the front row, but Payne remained standing in the back of the room. He would keep an eye on things from there while Jones ran the briefing.

  In order to get the room’s attention, Jones amped up his personality to a whole new level. Over the years, he had found that was the quickest way to take charge of alpha males who were getting ready to put their lives on the line for a common cause.

  “First things first,” Jones said to the group. “Tell me about the local cops. As a black man carrying a gun, that’s always number one on my list.”

  Jarkko laughed. “Don’t worry, my friend. Jarkko has taken care of everything. The Finnish Navy sometimes conducts war games around the islands. The local police are expecting drills this evening, so they will not be alarmed by gunfire.”

  “Excellent!” Jones said with a grin. “Then let’s get to it.”

  Jones pointed to the map and did his best to pronounce the names. “Suomenlinna is made up of six islands. Starting in the northwest and moving toward the southeast, there is Särkää, Länsi-Mustasaari, Pikku-Mustasaari, Iso-Mustasaari, Susisaari, and Kustaanmiekka.”

  He glanced at Jarkko. “How’d I do?”

  Jarkko grinned. “You fucked up every one.”

  Jones nodded and admitted defeat. “Just like I knew I would. And I don’t like to fuck up, so we’re changing things right now. From this point forward, these are the new names of the islands: Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, and One.”

  To emphasize his point, he picked up a black magic marker and wrote the matching numeral on top of each island, following the same order he had announced to the group. “So no more of these Hakuna-Matata, Kumbaya, Pikachu-sounding names. When my team kills, we kill in English. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” the group said in unison.

  Jones pointed to Island 6 in the northwest corner of the map. It was the only island that wasn’t connected to the other five. “What’s special about this island? As far as I can tell, absolutely nothing! So let’s ignore it completely, like women do with Jarkko.”

  Jarkko grinned. “It’s true. They do—until they see Jarkko’s yacht! Then they can’t wait to play with Little Jarkko. Sometimes he gets excited and spits up on them!”

  The group laughed, while Jones put a black “X” over Island 6.

  “Moving on,” Jones growled to get the room to settle down. He was in his element, completely in control of the team. He had done hundreds of briefings like this and had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. “Islands Five and Four. They sit to the northwest and are connected by small bridges. I highly doubt that Volkov and his men are going to land way over there. If they do, they’ll have to hike a few klicks through the civilian part of Suomenlinna before they get anywhere near us, so I’m gonna cross them out of existence as well.”

  With one giant “X”, he eliminated Island 5 and Island 4.

  Jones put the cap back on the marker and then used it to tap on Island 3. It was the large island to the northeast. “According to Jarkko, the public ferry comes to the main quay on the north side of this island. Service will stop long before our scheduled meeting, so we fully expect all of the tourists and most of the employees to be gone before Volkov arrives. However, there’s always a chance that Volkov tries to slip some of his men onto the island for advance reconnaissance. With that in mind, we need patrols—”

  He pointed to specific locations on the map. “Here, here, and here.”

  Kaiser nodded from the front row. “I’ll see to it.”

  “Good,” Jones said as he glanced at Kaiser. “Is the comm gear working?”

  “My patrols are using it as we speak, so we’re good to go.”

  “How well do you know these men?”

  “I handpicked them myself.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Jones said as he turned back toward the map and drew a circle in the center of Island 3. “Who’s your best long-distance shooter?”

  A man in the second row raised his hand. “That would be me.”

  Jones glanced back at him. “What’s your name?”

  “Archer.”

  “Like the cartoon?”

  Archer shook his head. “Like a bowman.”

  Jones nodded. “Good answer, because the cartoon Archer is a drunk douchebag. Are you either of those things?”

  “No, sir.”

  “How’s your eyesight?”

  “Pretty fucking good.”

  “Prove it. What did I circle on the map?”

  Archer didn’t even need to look. “The church.”

  Jones smiled. “Which means you’re a sober bowman who did his homework. Nice to meet you, Archer. I
’m glad you’re on my team. Why did I circle the church?”

  “It was built on top of a hill. From up there, you can see everything.”

  “Just like God Himself!” Jones said in the voice of a preacher. “And he who hath the high ground always winneth the war! So that’s where I want you with a sniper rifle: in the second-floor window, facing southeast. Make sure you bring a guard or two in case Volkov goes for the church. I don’t want you worried about your six. I want you focused on your twelve. Understood?”

  Archer nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Jones glanced back at the map. He pointed to Island 2. “This is where things get tricky. There’s a single bridge connecting Island Three and Island Two. In wartime, I would blow the fucking thing to bits to prevent a rear assault. But Jarkko claims we can’t do that here. I highly doubt that Volkov is going to land on Three and hike it across the bridge, but the guy is a fucking lunatic, so who knows what the hell he’s thinking? With that in mind, we need to position a heavy gun on the north edge of Two, right next to the bridge. If anyone tries to cross from Three, we need to light their asses up. Kaiser, do you have someone who can handle that?”

  Kaiser nodded. “Consider it done.”

  “Good,” Jones said as he shifted his focus back to the map. “As you’ve probably guessed by now, our goal is to funnel all of the action to the south. It’s away from the prison and the civilian population in the upper islands—although we’ve been assured that those numbers will be kept to a minimum. Jarkko has talked to local personnel and warned them of the coming storm. In fact, he paid them good money to make sure that they had somewhere else to be during this skirmish. I hope to hell they remember, because Island Two and Island One will get hit.”

  With his magic marker, Jones drew a giant circle around the bottom two islands. Although they had different names, they were actually connected in the middle by a narrow land bridge. On each side of the grassy isthmus, there was a shallow inlet where boats could dock, and overlooking each inlet was a well-worn path that ran between Islands 2 and 1.

 

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