Rules of Engagement

by Ken Fite

  RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

  A Blake Jordan Thriller

  Ken Fite

  The Blake Jordan Series

  The Senator: Blake Jordan Book 1

  Credible Threat: Blake Jordan Book 2

  In Plain Sight: Blake Jordan Book 3

  Rules of Engagement: Blake Jordan Book 4

  November 2017

  Copyright © 2017 Ken Fite

  All rights reserved worldwide.

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  FORTY-EIGHT

  FORTY-NINE

  FIFTY

  FIFTY-ONE

  FIFTY-TWO

  FIFTY-THREE

  FIFTY-FOUR

  FIFTY-FIVE

  FIFTY-SIX

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  FIFTY-NINE

  SIXTY

  Find out what happens to Blake.

  ONE

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  **

  YURI KANATOVA SHIELDED his face from the torrential downpour as he cautiously walked away from the idling vehicle parked at the edge of Sunset Marina. The overnight storm was supposed to miss the quiet town of Ocean City on Maryland’s east coast, but pushed west unexpectedly and stalled over the city.

  Using a high-powered tactical flashlight that he had brought on the three-hour trip, Kanatova illuminated the path in front of him, taking slow, careful steps on the slippery wooden walkway that led to pier eleven.

  As he approached, a bright flash of lightning struck close by, causing him to close his eyes and shudder. The immediate sound of the accompanying thunder added to the man’s apprehension as he slowly opened his eyes and shined the light on his watch to check how much time he had left. After confirming that he was slightly ahead of schedule, the man continued along the walkway until he reached the edge of the pier.

  Keeping one hand to his forehead to continue shielding his eyes from the rain, Yuri used the other to illuminate the side of the indigo blue NauticStar powerboat and shined the light on the mooring line, following it from the vessel to the metal bollard attached to the dock to keep the boat in place. Bending down to set the flashlight on top of the pier, Kanatova began untying the knot as lightning struck again, followed by a strong gust of wind. It pushed the man, causing him to loosen his grip on the mooring line as he stretched his hand out to steady himself. That was the moment he realized that he had made a mistake.

  Yuri watched helplessly as the wind knocked his flashlight over. It rolled, disappeared over the edge of the wooden walkway, and sank into the murky water below. Undeterred, the man cursed under his breath, turned back to finish loosening the rest of the line, and climbed inside the vessel as it started to drift away.

  Once inside, Kanatova started the engine and let it warm for a minute as he slid his fingers over the small rectangular touch screen on the onboard Garmin GPS system and entered the coordinates that he had been instructed to memorize—latitude 38.344270, longitude -74.579354. After locking the location into the GPS, Kanatova began to steer the drifting vessel to correct its trajectory and slowly began to head out of the marina and into the open sea. He knew visibility would be low at four in the morning, and the storm had made it even more difficult to negotiate the choppy waters as he headed east out into the Atlantic.

  At a top speed of just over fifty miles per hour, Kanatova had planned to travel for under half an hour to reach his destination. But with the strong, unrelenting wind making the water more difficult to navigate—in addition to the rain now traveling sideways and hitting him square in the face—it would take longer.

  Still, he pressed forward and decided that the strong wind coming from the east might actually help him.

  Forty minutes into the trip, the rain let up and the sky cleared as Kanatova finally passed through the outer edge of the storm. Slowing the vessel, he used a sleeve to wipe water away from his face and blinked several times to clear his eyes. He hadn’t yet reached the coordinates he had been given, but experience told him that he needed to scan the horizon in case the target had drifted farther due to the strong winds.

  After looking south, Kanatova turned his gaze to the north. His eyes scanned everywhere and everything.

  There should have been a bright, pulsating strobe marking the location in case there were complications, but he couldn’t see anything but choppy water surrounding him in shades of dark blue along a gray sky.

  “Where are you?” Kanatova said to himself, feeling his heart starting to beat harder than it had all night and knowing that he had no room for error on this mission. His eyes continued to scan the dark water. He turned west, back toward the coastline. “Could I have missed it?” he asked himself as his eyes flicked back and forth, becoming more desperate by the second and realizing that the stakes of failing would be death.

  Then something on his right caught his eye. A bright flash streaked high into the dark sky momentarily and then disappeared. Kanatova turned in the direction of the flash and scanned the area carefully.

  Hoping that it wasn’t just a flash of lightning from the storm now moving to the west of him, the man held his breath and kept his eyes fixed on the location. Five seconds later, Kanatova had his answer. A red orb, brilliant in appearance, lit up the night sky. The color streaked across the Atlantic as the bright object began to fall toward the ocean, and Kanatova realized what he was seeing: the descent of a distress flare.

  Quickly, he turned the vessel toward the direction of the flare and accelerated before he lost sight of it.

  The glowing orb fell slowly, taking approximately thirty seconds to complete its journey from high above. Kanatova watched it become brighter as it neared the water, causing its red hue to reflect more brilliantly off the top of the ocean waves before it finally hit the water, quenching the flame, and sank into the sea.

  The man thought about the flashlight he had brought with him. He could have used it to help him locate what he was sent out into the open water of the Atlantic to find. Kanatova slowed as he approached the area where he thought the distress flare had come from, stopped the vessel, and took a step back to scan the area in every direction, hearing nothing but cold water slapping up against the sides of the NauticStar.

  “Dimitri!” he yelled and waited for a response as the wind picked
up again. “Dimitri, can you hear me?”

  Squinting his eyes and shielding his face from a spray of water hitting his boat, Kanatova saw what looked like a light from three hundred meters away. It disappeared for several seconds, then came back into view.

  Keeping his eyes fixed in the direction of where he had seen the light come from, he felt around for the controls, repositioned his watercraft once more, and headed straight toward the location. A relieved smile fell upon Yuri’s face as he realized that the light he was seeing was, in fact, coming from the strobe, which was only disappearing every few seconds because of the rise and fall of the tall waves. When the pulsating light remained steady long enough to lock in on the location, he made one final push and raced toward it.

  Squinting, he could see the outline of a small raft drifting at the mercy of the ocean’s current. He continued to approach and, with each glow of the strobe, could see the face of the man as he held it tight.

  “You’re late,” the man waiting inside the raft yelled over the sound of the engine as it approached.

  A confused expression spread across Kanatova’s face, hidden from the man in the raft. The voice was not one he had been expecting, one of a grizzled warrior ready to lead a group of aimless men. It was not the gruff voice of an experienced, battle-worn man hell-bent on inflicting harm on American innocents.

  It was the voice of a younger man. Yuri stared at him, unsure how to respond.

  “I said you’re late,” the man repeated, his voice intentionally deeper this time as he stared at Kanatova.

  “Dimitri,” he said, remembering the plan and finding a weight underneath one of the benches. Stretching out an arm, he handed the weight to the young man. “Please understand, there were complications.”

  “Which one are you?” he asked, taking the weight and tethering it to a steel loop on the side of the raft.

  “Yuri,” he replied as he grabbed a railing and offered his hand to help the young man climb aboard.

  Dimitri stared at the man, reached inside his jacket, and found a knife. He grabbed Yuri’s hand, extended the blade, and punctured the raft. He stepped onto the boat as the raft deflated and sank into the ocean, pulled down by the weight he had attached. Dimitri turned to Yuri. “We’re behind schedule. Let’s move.”

  TWO

  AS KANATOVA APPROACHED the harbor, Dimitri sat atop the slim bench located directly behind him. The majority of the storm was now far west of them, though a light sprinkle remained over the harbor as the vessel slowed and the men made their final approach into the marina, with Yuri docking at pier eleven.

  After placing the mooring line back on the bollard, Yuri signaled to the man he’d rescued that he could exit.

  Dimitri stepped onto the slippery wood and steadied himself. He heard the rumble of thunder in the distance as he noticed two men approach from a parked vehicle and stop at the edge of the pier.

  Yuri finished securing the vessel and walked with Dimitri to meet the two men who were waiting for them. Seeing the dissatisfied expression on one of the men’s faces, Yuri stepped behind Dimitri to get out of his way. The men formed a circle around Dimitri, who stood silently and stared at the two men in front of him.

  “This is Makar,” said Yuri, gesturing to the expressionless man to his left. “And Andrei,” he added as he looked to the tall man next to Makar, who seemed disturbed. “The others are waiting at the safe house.”

  “How many?” asked Dimitri after pausing for a brief moment to look over each of the men before him.

  “Seven,” replied Yuri. “The two specialists that you requested and five others, men loyal to the homeland as well as to our cause.” Kanatova waited for the other men to speak up and add to his words, but neither said a word. Instead, they just stared at Dimitri, assessing the young man and deciding if he was someone capable of leading them and carrying out the intricate plan that he had proposed from half a world away.

  Dimitri motioned for Yuri to join the other men. Then he palmed a hand across his head to dry his wet hair and flung the water to the ground. He crossed his arms and looked up at the three men, slowly moving his gaze left to right, from Yuri to Makar, and finally setting his eyes on Andrei. “Tell me, Andrei,” said Dimitri, sensing that the man was deeply bothered by something, “why are you so troubled?”

  There was no response at first. Then Andrei turned to his right to look at Makar, who maintained his expressionless gaze. He then looked briefly at Yuri before shifting his eyes back to the man in front of him.

  “I’ll ask you again,” said Dimitri with an annoyed tone to his voice. “What is bothering you, my brother?”

  “Brother?” asked Andrei as he stepped forward and lowered his gaze to Dimitri’s feet before slowly looking up as he assessed the man. “I could be your father.” He laughed and turned to look at the others.

  Nodding to himself, Dimitri said, “So that is the problem.” Dimitri stepped outside the circle and kept his eyes on Andrei as he put his arms behind his back and started pacing around the three men slowly. “Andrei, you knew my father, didn’t you?”

  Andrei straightened up and nodded to himself. “You know very well that I did.”

  “Then you know that he was not an old man himself. Did you expect him to have an old son?” He paused for a moment, waiting for Andrei to respond, but he didn’t say a word. “What is the true concern here?”

  Andrei looked behind him to see if his sentiment was shared by his associates before responding. “Dimitri, we need a warrior with experience who can help us. Someone who understands how to fight. Someone who understands how the Americans operate, to help us bring this cowardly nation to its knees.” He paused a beat before continuing. “We were loyal to your father, and the prospect of continuing where he left off was appealing to us. But we need someone experienced to lead us. Someone we can respect.”

  Dimitri continued to pace slowly, keeping his hands behind his back and thinking about the words being spoken by Andrei. He stopped once he got to the front of the men and stared at the three of them now lined up side by side. Looking to the other two, he said, “Yuri, Makar, do you agree with your colleague?”

  There was no reply at first. Then the expressionless Makar asked, “How do you plan on fighting and winning a war against a nation that you have never lived in or even visited? You are young, Dimitri. Convince me that I am wrong. Show me that you are capable of leading us, and you will have my support.”

  Crossing his arms, Dimitri nodded to himself. “And you, Yuri?” he asked, noticing that the man who had rescued him was now staring down at the ground. When he did not respond, Dimitri stepped closer. “Tell me,” he said softly while standing before the nervous man, “do you agree with their assessment of me?”

  Yuri looked up. “I do not agree,” he said with a nervous voice and furrowed brow. “You have my support.”

  Dimitri tilted his head to one side and stared at Yuri. The man did not look him in the eye and instead turned his gaze back to the ground. Stepping back out in front of the men, Dimitri stared at each of them.

  “Andrei and Makar,” he began, searching for the right words, “you make valid points. I am young. And I do not have the experience of a seasoned warrior. But make no mistake about it, I have one thought that occupies my mind day and night—my father’s legacy. And despite your concerns, I can assure you that—”

  “I knew your father for many years,” interrupted Andrei. “Before you were even born, Dimitri. He spoke highly of you, his one and only son. He did not want you involved in these kinds of things.” Andrei paused before adding, “You contacted us and provided a plan much different than your father’s. His desire was to destroy the infrastructure of American intelligence gathering. Yours is centered on working alongside it.”

  “As I was saying,” replied Dimitri as he stared at Andrei, not pleased with being interrupted by the man, “what happened to my father and protecting his legacy consumes me. His defeat will not go uncontested.”


  The men looked at each other as Dimitri continued. “What my father failed to understand was that you can fight a war against America, but you cannot win a war against her. No, you can only win small battles. What I have proposed is a new way of thinking, my brothers. If you did not agree, you would not be here.”

  “But it does not follow the rules of engagement, Dimitri,” said Andrei. “You cannot work with the enemy.”

  “That is exactly why it will work. We will strike at the heart of those responsible for my father’s defeat. We will work with the enemy only as long as we need to.” Sensing that there was still hesitation amongst the group, Dimitri continued. “We will hit the American people hard, using their own government against them. I will finish what my father started and will not hesitate to remove any obstacle that stands in my path.” He looked back at the men, one by one. “If you believe that I can and will lead you as I say I will, if you believe that my inexperience will help me to think differently so that we may succeed, step forward.”

  After waiting several seconds, Makar stepped forward. Dimitri turned to Yuri, who hesitated until, out of what Dimitri believed to be fear, the man finally took a step forward to join Makar. Andrei defiantly took a step backwards and fell out of line as he stood behind the others. Dimitri smiled. He unfolded his arms, reached into his jacket, and found his weapon. He looked it over, admiring it, and then looked up at the men.

  “I hate insubordination,” said Dimitri as his eyes passed Makar and settled on Andrei, who stared boldly and defiantly at the young man. “But I must admit,” he continued as he gripped his gun tighter, “I respect a difference of opinion, as it only makes a team stronger. What I cannot respect, however, is indecision.”

  With that, Dimitri raised his arm and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the forehead of Yuri Kanatova. The other two men flinched in response as the sound of the weapon firing echoed around them. “Quick. Put his body in the back of the vehicle,” he said and looked at his watch. “We need to leave now.”

  THREE