A Taste of Liberty: Task Force 125 Book 2 (2 page)

“The Air Force
don't
teach that, man.  That's either a hardened operative or, well, a woman in love.  Either way, you don't want to fuck things up with her.  We want her thinking clearly and on our side when the shit goes down."

Vince rubbed his chin.  He just shaved but everything about
Transnistria
made him feel dirty.  Igor Smirnov's dirty little hole in the wall, jammed between Moldova and Ukraine, was the only place he could arrange for such a big shipment of AK-47s, fast and without question.  His cover as an arms dealer was beginning to wear on him.  He'd seen so much filth and death he wondered whether he'd ever be able to escape it all and just live a normal life.

What is a normal life anyway?

There were times when he just let himself think about what it might be like to chuck it all and leave the CIA's Special Activities Division. 

Just disappear with a good woman.  A woman like Sarah
.

"Hey, Vince.”
  Will waved at him across the hotel room.  “Wake up man.  I'm serious.  What are you gonna do about the girl?  There's no denying there is something between you two.  Hell, even Jason picked up on it, and while he’s a killing machine and a hellacious bodyguard, we all know he ain't too bright when it comes to the ladies."  Will puffed on his cigar and waited for Vince to answer. 

Vince lit a cigarette.  He knew what was on his old friend's mind, and Will was right to ask about it.  Vince had done this work for the C.I.A. for far too long.  He was becoming weary of the drug dealers, gun dealers and slavers.  The line between the good guys and bad guys was blurring, and Vince didn’t like the side he was standing on most of the time.  He had more to think about than just himself, though.  Retiring would skew the whole team dynamic.  It would take months to work a new guy into the team.  Sarah was a fluke.  She was only supposed to be the honey pot and gather information.  She might as well have been a bug planted by the bed.  As it happened, she turned out to be far better than that and had fit in with the team in no time at all. 

Who knew she and I would hit it off like we did? 

Vince had to hand it to her though, for somebody they’d recruited out of the Air Force, she was totally professional when it came to espionage.  She never broke rank, and she respected the cardinal rule
-
you don't shit where you eat.

Vince refilled his coffee from the room service cart and took a long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray.  Will was right.  They needed Sarah for the mission, but he needed her too.  He'd tried but he just couldn't get her out of his mind.  He walked to the window at the far end of the suite, watching as couples and groups of friends made their way to the nightclub next door.

I can think of better things to do on a summer night than wait for an arms dealer in a shabby hotel in Moldova.

The mission had to come first and there was still too much to be done if they were going to put the hurt on Al Qaeda.  Sure, knocking out AQ's main moneyman, Hassan, in their last mission put a crimp in Osama's business, but they needed to get rid of his weapons suppliers and more of his financial network before anybody started thinking about retirement. 

"Look, Will, my brother is still in Baghdad, and this is the only way I can cover his six.  We've got to get Osama on the ropes and we aren't gonna do it with one or two missions.  We've got to be in this for the long haul. 
All of us.
 
Gettin
' all domestic isn't in the cards.  Sarah and I are just two agents working together, and that's as far as it can go.”  He turned toward Will and tensed his jaw.  “I’ve got it under control."

"Alright, man.  You know I just need to know where your head is at."

"It's in the game, Will.  It's cool."

The knock on the door reminded Vince he hadn't fully prepared for the meeting.  He set his coffee cup on the nightstand and pulled his Sig Sauer pistol out of the drawer.  He turned away from the door to buffer the sound as he checked the chamber and magazine.  He tucked the handgun into the waistband of his worn Levi's and pulled on a white tee shirt as Will walked to the door.  Their eyes met and they nodded to each other.  They'd been playing gunrunners for years and had the drill down.

Will
opened
the door. 
"Nikolai!”
  He smiled and made a sweeping gesture with his cigar hand.  “Come on in. 
How about a cigar?"

Nikolai assumed the room.  His presence was distinctly larger than his six foot three, tightly muscled frame.  It was no surprise to Vince that he was a successful businessman.  Nikolai carried himself as if he owned the world.  To be honest, he did own a rather large chunk of it, at least in
Pridnestrovie
.  He was speaking on a cell phone, quickly followed by a stern-faced, large, blond Russian who looked like he would have been right at home in the KGB. 
"
Da
,
da
.
  I'm visiting with some friends, but I'll be on a plane shortly.  Don't worry.  I'll be there."

Nikolai snapped his phone shut and slipped it into the breast pocket of his black leather jacket in one smooth move before reaching out to shake Will's hand.  His long dark hair fell down to his shoulders.  He looked like he hadn’t seen a razor in about a week, but he carried himself like he was God’s gift to the world.  He walked toward Vince, strong and confident, and grasped his hand.  He gave a wry smile loaded with brilliant white teeth and shook his head. 
"Mothers."

An Oxford educated Russian with barely a trace of an accent who could write his own ticket and here he is running guns.

"We all have '
em
, Nikolai.  Have a seat."  Vince gestured to the worn but passable sofa and sat as Nikolai did.

Nikolai pointed to the door and scowled at the big, blond bodyguard.  "Andrei, close the door."  Nikolai smiled at Vince.  "I do not mean to rush you but, as you've heard, I have another appointment, and I cannot be late."

Will remained standing and casually leaned against the window frame, all the while keeping his gun hand free.  Vince had Nikolai covered but Andrei was Will's target.  If the deal went sour, Will had to take down the bodyguard. 

"That's fine."  Vince smiled.  "We have quite a bit of traveling to do as well so a short meeting won't offend us at all.
"

Nikolai's bearded face became very serious and his dark gaze grew darker.  "There is a problem with your order, my friend."

Gun runners don't generally like to hear that phrase, but it was exactly what Vince and Will were looking for this time.  Vince picked up his pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and tapped a Marlboro out of the box.  He lit it while offering the box to Nikolai.  The slight distraction might keep Nikolai from seeing the satisfaction in Vince’s eyes.

Tell me what I want to hear.

Nikolai took one and accepted the lighter Vince offered.

Vince leaned back and crossed his right ankle over his left knee.  "What kind of problem, Nikolai?"

"The guns and ammo won't be a problem.”  He handed Vince the lighter and took a drag off his cigarette.  “It is the helicopter that will be difficult.”

“I thought I made it clear we had a limited window of opportunity on that part of the deal.”

“Yes, of course.  That is why I would like to refer you to an associate of mine.  He will not be available to meet with you until next month, but he can deliver within twenty-four hours.”

Vince stood up and paced a few steps, feigning agitation.  It was all part of the plan.  He shook his head and spoke almost in a low growl.  “I don't like associates, Nikolai.  How do I know you aren't setting me up?”

Nikolai ran a hand through his hair and smiled.  “Vince, you and I have made a great deal of money together, and I look forward to us doing many years of business together.  This is no average associate.  I would never disrespect you by referring you to some shopkeeper.  Certainly you have heard of Victor?”

Will stood straight and Vince turned quickly toward Nikolai.  The sudden movement must have spooked Nikolai's bodyguard because he drew his gun on Will immediately. 

Will was just as fast and had a .38 pointed at the man’s big blond head.  “Check yourself, man!  What kind of pups are you using for bodyguards these days, Nikolai?  Call off your dog!”

Nikolai grew stern and his eyes grew dark. 
“Andrei.
 
Outside.
 
Now.”
  He leaned back on the sofa and took a drag off his cigarette.  “I'm very sorry, my friends.  Please, forgive the boy.  He is too nervous for this job.  Perhaps he'll be better suited to cleaning toilets.”

“Nothing to forgive.
  No harm done.”  Vince assured him. 
“So, Victor?
 
Really?”

“Yes, of course.  He is the only man I know who can produce and deliver what you're asking for.”

“Well, in that case, when can he meet us?”

“He will meet only with you.  He'll be at the International Arms Expo in Genoa, Italy, next month.  I've taken the liberty of giving him your phone number.  His secretary will contact you with the details.”

Vince extended a hand to Nikolai.  “In that case, thank you, Nikolai.  I trust the guns and ammo will be delivered immediately as per our agreement?”

Nikolai stood.  “Yes, they are on their way to your warehouse in Dubai as we speak.”

“
Spaceba
.”
  Vince thanked him in Russian and walked him to the door.  “Please tell Victor I'll be in Italy for the expo as well and looking forward to hearing from him.”

Vince closed the door softly behind Nikolai, checked the area for bugs, and looked over at Will who was checking for bugs in the area where Nikolai sat.

“All clear.”
  Will stated.

Relief washed over Vince.  “That's it, man!  We got a meeting with Victor!  Let's go home and get the team packed up for Italy.”

“I'm all for that.  I'll call the pilot.  You call ops.  Let's get the hell out of this shithole, man!”

Sarah's lean, tan body cut swiftly through the crystal blue water of the pool.  It was six-o-clock in the morning, the sun had just come up and she was swimming laps at the pool at the Las Vegas MGM Grand Signature where she'd recently purchased a luxury condo, her first real home.  She swam laps for an hour every morning around this time so she could have the pool to herself.  Signature condos were owned by high rollers and otherwise nocturnal types.  Nobody there woke up before noon if they could help it.

The monotonous, rhythmic strokes of her swimming allowed her mind to wander as the cool water washed over her, lap after lap.  She wondered when she'd see Vince again.  She hadn't seen him since just after the team's boat trip on Lake Mead when they returned from the Mediterranean a couple months ago.  Her mind kept going back to that day before the mission when she was in Vince's cabin.  He'd thrown her down on the bed and kissed her like he meant it.  After that kiss, there was an unspoken promise of more to come when they’d finished the mission.

Then, after their mission debrief, Vince disappeared without a word.  Maybe that was just how the team did things, but Sarah expected something more, something personal instead of professional.  She knew she shouldn't but there was just something so right between the two of them that she couldn't help herself.  Maybe he couldn't deal with the fact that she’d slept with a terrorist to get information.  Maybe the fact that she saved Vince’s life twice was just too embarrassing for a Marine.  Hell, maybe he was just trying to let her down easy by going away for a while.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Reality struck when Sarah hit her head on the edge of the pool.

Jackass.

She stood up to see if anyone had witnessed her moment of oblivious stupidity and breathed a sigh as she confirmed she was alone.  She
dove
back in and continued her laps.  Not a day went by since Sarah's stay at “the Camp”
-
the C.I.A. training camp where she’d recreated herself and accepted a job as a spy with the agency’s Special Activities Division
-
when she didn't think about Vince.  The first time she'd seen him, he wore all black, combat boots, cargo
pants, tank top and cap.  His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses but his form was impressive.  He was broad, lean and so very muscular.  His bare arms were a tangle of muscle and sinew.  His chest was a brick wall.  His face was like stone.  He never smiled or spoke.  In fact, she'd never heard his voice until she ran into him at Pure, a nightclub, and even then she had no idea the handsome man in the silk suit with the velvet voice was the same man she'd lusted for at the Camp.  If she had, she never would have run away and hooked up with the handsome Italian, Angelo.

Of course, that velvet voice could turn to sandpaper at the pull of a trigger.  Sarah learned that lesson quickly enough during their first mission when she'd shot two pirates that tried to board the team's yacht in the Mediterranean.