Choke Points

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Choke Points Page 14

by Trevor Scott


  Heading back to Sirena, Jake smiled at her.

  “Did I hear that right?” Sirena asked. “You passed up head?”

  “She looked about fifteen.”

  Sirena smacked Jake’s chest and said, “Glad to know you have standards.”

  Now they went to the billionaire’s door. Sirena stood with her hand in her purse and Jake was off to one side of the door.

  She barely knocked when the billionaire came to the door wearing only a white cotton robe, which didn’t even cover the tall man’s knees.

  “Okay,” Barnes said. “I was expecting someone a lot younger, but you will do.”

  Sirena pulled her gun and said, “No, I won’t do, you pervert.” She pushed the much taller man into the room and Jake came right in after them.

  An Asian man came from the living room looking for trouble. But Jake had his gun out and pointed it right at the man’s face, stopping him in his tracks.

  Jake made the Asian man turn around. Then he quietly put his gun in its holster. But the Asian man used this split second to try to elbow Jake in the head. But Jake was too fast. He punched the man in the kidney and caught him in a sleeper hold to keep him from hitting the floor.

  “Don’t kill him,” Barnes pled.

  Jake had no intention of doing so. After a short struggle, the Asian man passed out. Then Jake pulled out some heavy zip ties and bound the man’s hands behind his back and his feet together.

  Turning to the billionaire, Jake used his German accent again. “Now, we can talk, Mister Barnes.”

  “What do you want? Money? My Rolex is worth ten grand.”

  “Well, you paid too much for that,” Jake said. “My phone keeps perfect time worldwide.”

  “Then what do you want?” Barnes asked.

  “Information.”

  Barnes turned to run, but Jake caught the robe and the man ended up naked scurrying for the door.

  Sirena slammed the man against the wall, and shoved her knee up under his bare butt. She must have hit his balls, because the man immediately crashed to the floor in pain.

  Jake shook his head and threw the robe at the man. “Nobody has to get hurt, Mister Barnes. But I am quite prepared to see if a seven-foot man can fly from an eighteenth-floor balcony. But I’m pretty sure the math doesn’t work in your favor.”

  Barnes got to his knees and put the robe on again, tying the rope around his waist. Then he got to his feet again. “What do you want?”

  Jake led the billionaire to the leather sofa in the living room with a view of both the Pacific Ocean and downtown Panama City. He shoved the larger man into the sofa.

  Intelligence officers were trained to withstand beatings and torture from captors. But civilians, and especially soft billionaire types who were used to being pampered, probably had the pain tolerance of a three-year-old. Jake could probably give the guy a few well-placed noogies on the skull and get the guy to give him all of his internet passwords.

  So, Jake decided to go the route of the soft interrogation. He sat across from the man on a thick wooden coffee table and simply stared the man down. Sometimes saying nothing was better than making threats.

  Unable to calm himself, Barnes started to spout off everything he had done recently that had a slight possibility of impropriety. Jake expected the man to confess to being the man on the grassy knoll—even though he wouldn’t have been born yet.

  Finally, Jake raised his hands in protest. “Just a minute, Barnes. I know you just hired an underaged girl to come to your condo and have sex with you. That’s despicable, but it’s not why we’re here.”

  Barnes shifted his gaze from Jake to Sirena, who had agreed to only step in if Jake needed help. Not likely with this guy, Jake thought. But Sirena was putting off some major badass vibe with her hands on her hips and wide stance. She looked like she might shove a stiletto into each of the billionaire’s eyes.

  “I’ve been around some scary people,” Barnes said, “but you two give me the creeps.”

  Perfect, Jake thought.

  Sirena finally spoke with her version of a German accent. “You should be concerned. Do you know how many people this man has killed?”

  “Please,” Jake said. “Your body count must be close to triple digits by now.”

  “I don’t want to brag,” she said. “But I’ll bet yours is twice mine.”

  “I’ve been around longer,” Jake said.

  Sirena thought for a moment. “Have you ever killed a man this tall?”

  “Pretty close. But I’ll admit I wouldn’t want to try to dispose of a body this big.”

  “We could cut him into smaller pieces.”

  “That would be the only way,” Jake agreed.

  Barnes looked like a frightened puppy during a thunderstorm. “Please. Ask the question. There is no need for violence.”

  They all heard movement and turned toward the front door. The Asian man had come to and was trying to struggle against the zip ties.

  Jake shifted his head toward Sirena, who went to the man and stomped on his face, knocking him out again.

  “No need for your man to hear what you will eventually tell us,” Jake said. “Then you can simply say we were here to rob you.” He hesitated, making sure his words would not be able to be used against him. “Now. Tell me why you are in Panama.”

  Barnes sunk into the sofa. He said, “I just bought this condo.”

  “I understand you closed on this property three years ago,” Jake said, remembering the briefing he read on Barnes. “Even in Panama this is easy enough to discover.”

  “You seem to have all the answers,” Barnes said.

  Sirena had come around behind Barnes. She grasped the man’s ears and nearly ripped them from his head. He tried to grab her hands, but she pulled them away quickly. Then she cupped her hands and smacked both ears, nearly breaking the drums with the pressure.

  The billionaire rolled around on the sofa in pain. Yeah, he had a very weak pain threshold.

  Finally, Barnes recovered enough to sit up straight again. “Why? I was answering your questions.”

  Jake pointed at the man and said, “I don’t want any attitude from you. I know you’re used to getting your way. But this situation could be very dire for your health.” He pointed over his shoulder. “As I mentioned, I’m not sure you can fly. But we could find out.”

  Silence. The man was contemplating his options.

  “Are you ready to talk?” Jake asked solemnly.

  Barnes nodded yes.

  “Good. So, two days ago you walked into a bank near this building and signed a real estate contract. We simply want to know what you bought.”

  The tall, lanky billionaire looked like a little kid who had just been caught looking at his mother’s underwear.

  Finally, Barnes said, “You can probably find this another way.”

  “A real estate deal,” Jake surmised. “What was it?” He stood and loomed over the billionaire.

  Without great vigor, Barnes said, “I bought an island.”

  “Where?”

  “The Bahamas.”

  This wasn’t a big deal, Jake thought. So, why was the man being so coy with them?

  “There’s more to this purchase,” Jake guessed.

  Barnes simply lifted his shoulders and tried to hold back a smirk.

  In the next half hour, Barnes told Jake and Sirena everything he knew about the deal. How he had made this and other purchases for the Chinese businessman over the past couple of years. Jake wished he was surprised by these revelations, but he wasn’t. Based on the expression on Sirena’s face, she showed disgust more than surprise.

  Finding his phone, Jake texted Sancho Eneko, their tech guy in Porto, seeing if he had gotten everything. Within seconds, Jake got a response. ‘Everything, boss.’

  Jake put his phone away and said, “Alright. Let’s go.”

  Sirena strut to the door.

  Barnes got up and said, “Wait. What now?”

  Jake
stopped and turned. “What do you want? A fucking medal?”

  Before Barnes could answer, the front of his face exploded.

  Not hearing a gunshot, Jake still understood what was going on. He rushed to the door and pushed Sirena out into the hallway. More bullets struck the walls around him as he slammed the door shut.

  As Jake turned, he saw two men get off the elevator, guns drawn.

  The two of them ran in the other direction toward the stairwell.

  23

  By the time Jake and Sirena crashed through the emergency exit leading to the stairwell, bullets struck the edge of the hallway, barely missing them.

  Sirena started to go down, but Jake pulled her up the stairs.

  Once they got to the nineteenth floor, Jake peered around the doorframe to the hallway. Nothing.

  He waved Sirena through, but he didn’t close the door. First, he waited, his gun out and pointed down the stairs.

  The two men pursuing them crashed through the door below them. Their voices echoed up the stairwell. He guessed they were wondering which way they had gone. Once their footfalls could be heard going down, Jake slowly and quietly closed the door.

  “Now where?” Sirena asked.

  This was the problem with high-rise apartment buildings. Escape was never easy. They couldn’t take the stairwell down and the elevators would be covered.

  Jake got on his phone and called Sancho Eneko.

  “What the hell happened?” Sancho asked.

  “Listen up,” Jake said. “I need you to find an open room in this building on the nineteenth floor.”

  “No problem. I still have their system open from when I got you your room.”

  Jake could hear the young man’s computer clicking away.

  “What are you thinking?” Sirena asked.

  “Here we go,” Sancho said. “Room Nineteen Twenty-One.”

  “Can you open it for me,” Jake said, walking calmly to the subject room.”

  “Are you in front of it?” Sancho asked.

  “We are now.”

  The electronic door light turned green and Jake pushed in.

  Sirena locked the door behind them, while Jake went to the window. Luckily, they were on the same side of the building as their last place and that of the Singapore billionaire.

  “Is that it?” Sancho asked.

  “No. We’re under attack by Chinese operatives. They just shot and killed Bobby Barnes. I need you to call in the local police. Tell them at least four gunmen are roaming the halls on the eighteenth floor. Mention that you heard gunfire in the billionaire’s room. I want SWAT crawling all over that room, along with the lobby area.”

  “Gotcha, boss. Give me five.”

  Jake hung up. A sliver of light came into the room from the city lights outside. He glanced outside at the closest building that could have been a good shooting position for the person who had shot Barnes.

  “What do you see?” Sirena asked.

  “A building across the way. About two hundred yards. Someone could have shot from the rooftop.”

  “Not a hard shot,” she said.

  “Either of us could have made that with crappy optics,” he said. “Piece of cake with a nice scope.” Jake closed the curtains all the way.

  Sirena clicked on a small lamp.

  Jake wandered through the condo unit. It was much smaller than the one they were staying in on the floor below, and tiny compared to the billionaire’s place.

  When he came back into the main living room, Sirena had found two beers from the attached kitchen area. She handed one to Jake and took a seat on the leather sofa.

  He sat in a matching leather chair and said, “Any more of these in the fridge?”

  “Just two more. But there’s also a well-stocked bar.”

  “Any food?”

  “Snack foods.”

  “Good. That should last us for a while.”

  “Who do you suppose owns this condo?”

  Glancing about the living room, Jake said, “I don’t know. Looks like old people.”

  She smiled. “Like us?”

  “Much older.”

  He sucked down some beer and thought about what had just happened. “What are you thinking?”

  “About this whole shit show?” she asked and shrugged. “Our Chinese friends obviously had Barnes under surveillance.”

  “Why kill him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He was no longer useful to them,” Jake said. “Plus, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. That’s inexcusable to them. It’s not like we beat the information out of him.”

  She drank some beer and smiled. “You did question gravity and what the fall might do to his body.”

  “There’s that,” Jake agreed.

  After a long silence, Sirena asked, “What now?”

  “I thought we were out of this game.”

  “They started it by attacking our home in the Azores,” she reminded him.

  “Good point. Sancho will let us get this information to Carlos Gomez. But I’m not sure what we can do about any of this.”

  “Information is power,” she said. “We found out about a potential military installation being built by the Suez Canal, and the Israelis took it out. If the west doesn’t fight back at this stage, then everyone better start learning Chinese.”

  “I’m too old to learn another language,” Jake said. “And I don’t think our government is willing to do like the Israelis.”

  Sirena finished her beer and went to the kitchen area, pulling out the last two beers from the refrigerator and opening them. She came back and handed one to Jake before sitting down again.

  “We still need to tell them,” Sirena said.

  Jake finished his beer and took out his SAT phone. From memory he entered a contact and typed in a cryptic message to an old friend.

  “John Bradford?” she asked.

  “He should know.”

  “Make sure you get something for this information.”

  He smiled. “I am. Information about my son.”

  “Karl is still in Russia?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  “He’s actually an SVR officer? Has that ever happened before?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Not in the SVR or the old KGB. He’s already done a few missions for Russia.”

  The two of them had not really discussed Karl’s son in months. Sirena knew the subject was generally off-limits.

  She took out her phone and typed in her own message. “I made sure our people know we’ll need the jet in the morning.”

  “Good plan.” Jake’s SAT phone buzzed and he glanced at the message after opening the encryption. It was from Bradford, the CIA Director.

  “Tell me it’s good news,” she said.

  Jake smiled. “Bradford knows where we are and our situation. He’s offered an extract.”

  Sirena sat forward on the sofa. “Do we take it?”

  “It’s better than getting shot accidentally by the Panamanian Police.”

  “Or intentionally by the Chinese.”

  “Right.” Jake accepted the offer and said he’d wait for instructions. Then he picked up the second beer and took a heavy draw. “Now we wait.”

  They didn’t have to wait too long, though. They both heard shooting somewhere in the building. Then there was something going on below them. Probably the Panamanian Police making it to the billionaire’s room and finding the dead body, Jake guessed.

  He got a text from Bradford saying their extract would be there within thirty seconds. He gave them a contact code to verify they were CIA assets.

  When there was a light knock on the door, Jake and Sirena both finished their beers, got up, and drew their weapons.

  Jake glanced out and saw a burly guy with a beard decked out in full tactical gear. They exchanged code phrases and then Jake opened the door.

  “Nice to see friendly faces,” Jake said, glancing past the first man and seein
g three more men with M4s and sidearms in tactical gear.

  “I don’t know about that,” their leader said.

  “Friendly enough,” Jake said. “How we getting out of here?”

  “Helo on the roof,” the man said. “You ever fly before?”

  Sirena laughed.

  Jake said, “Once or twice.”

  Two contract security officers led the way toward the stairwell, while the other two cover their six. But they climbed the stairs to the roof without incident and got into the commercial-looking Bell 430 helicopter that was already fired up and ready to rotate. Within seconds they were off the building and on their way.

  24

  Washington, DC

  Instead of spending the evening in a swanky high-rise condo in Panama City, Jake and Sirena had slept aboard the Gulfstream jet on the tarmac waiting for the flight crew and then during the flight to Washington Reagan International Airport. They landed just before midnight.

  Sirena continued to sleep in her chair, while Jake stepped onto the cold tarmac in the private area of the airport.

  Jake had flown with this crew all over the world, and they had a great relationship.

  “As I mentioned,” Jake said, “we won’t be on the ground more than an hour.”

  The lead pilot checked his watch and said, “We’ll just get some food and head back. Where do we go from here?”

  “I’ll let you know when you get back,” Jake said. “Will you have a problem with crew rest?”

  Both pilots laughed and walked off.

  The female flight attendant said, “They can take turns flying. Would you like me to bring you two something?”

  “Only if you’re going out for pizza.”

  “How did you know? I know what you like.” With that, she sauntered off to the car waiting for them.

  Jake got back into the jet and went directly to the bar. He found the 25-year-old Nicaraguan rum the crew kept there specifically for Jake, and he poured himself two-fingers in a highball glass. As he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, he glanced at Sirena. He could have let her sleep, but she needed to brief their guest on the Suez incident as well.

  He went to the main cabin and crouched down to Sirena, combing hair away from her eyes. “Hey, girl,” he said softly.

 

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