Dark Waters (9 page)

T
he cigarette smoke curled past the cracked window into the backseat and stung Haddid’s eyes. He had no intention of saying a word. Zuabi may have allowed him to choose his companions, but he had also made recommendations no reasonable man could turn down. Haddid knew without a doubt that the three men in the car with him would not hesitate to kill him if he failed in this mission. Zuabi wanted the information Cline had offered for trade, and there wasn’t a man among them willing to deny him.

Haddid looked out the window. All Zuabi cared about was revenge. It was not an emotion that Haddid understood, not even in connection with the deaths of his friends, but Zuabi embraced it. He had recently lost a niece, a young woman, who was like a daughter to him. She had been killed at the Lebanese embassy in Denver. And now Mansoor, a man who was like a son to Zuabi, was dead. Haddid knew he had upset Zuabi terribly by coming back empty-handed last night. It could not happen again. His leader wanted someone to pay.

“What do you see?” asked Fayez from behind the wheel.

Haddid ignored the smoke and focused his eyes on the front entrance to the mall. That’s where the man and his daughter had entered.

“I’m speaking to you, Haddid.”

“Yes, I know.” Haddid stroked his chin and chose his words carefully. “I think that as long as the car remains parked where it is, we can assume that is where they will exit.”

“What if there is another car?”

Haddid shifted his gaze to the back of Fayez’s head. Was this some kind of test?

“From where we sit, we will see them drive away. Be patient, Fayez.”

Basim, sitting in the passenger seat, leaned over to look at Haddid. “I say we go in through the back and surprise them.” He grinned, craned his neck, and looked at the man sitting in the back beside Haddid. “What do you think, Yousif?”

Haddid turned. “Yes, what do you think, Yousif?”

If any of these men could be intimidated, it was this man, and it made him the most dangerous of the three. It would be impossible to know whose side he would take and on whose side he would remain.

“I think Basim is right. Let’s go in through the back.”

Fayez smiled at Haddid in the rearview mirror, his teeth flashing false-white against his deeply tanned skin. “We know there is only one soldier inside. Look,” he jerked his head in the direction of the strip mall. “There’s one at the front door and the driver in the car. Everyone is accounted for.”

“Your count is off, Fayez.” Haddid met each man’s eyes. “There were five soldiers at the house. Only one was left behind. The one Marine came ahead with a woman soldier. Where is she now? Do you know?”

Haddid relished the doubt flickering in Fayez’s eyes.

“He’s right,” said Yousif.

And so turned the tides.

J
ordan exited the office and bolted upstairs, as much for some fresh air as to check out the situation on the street.

“Everything good?” she asked Walker, who was standing near the front door.

He grinned. “I’d say we have company.”

She scanned the street and her stomach knotted at the sight of a green car with three or four occupants parked on the approaching street. One block in the other direction, a black Volvo idled against the curb. It could be nothing.

“Any reason to be concerned?”

“PFC Donner took a stroll to check it out,” he said. “There are four Arabs in the Forester. They’ve been there since you went inside.”

“Harper?” Jordan hoped the radio mic picked up her voice. “Do you have eyes on the green car?”

“Negative, but I have a bead on the woman in the Volvo.”

“You’re sure it’s a woman?” Jordan asked. Weizman had suspected a woman in both the shooting in Dizengoff Square and the murders in al-Ajami.

“Positive, ma’am.”

“Tell me one of you have run the plates.”

“Doing that now,” Sergeant Donner said. He currently sat in the driver’s seat of the parked sedan, pounding on a keyboard in his lap. “The Volvo’s tags show it registered to one Batya Ruth, a resident of Tel Aviv. Everything about her appears to be in order. The Arab’s car came back with plates registered to a company in Haifa.”

Jordan had a gut feeling she knew which one. “GG&B Engineering?”

Sergeant Donner looked up. “How’d you know?”

“Call it an educated guess.” Jordan brushed a stray curl away from her face and addressed the team through her mic. “Let’s look alive, everyone. These might be our guys.”

Four “Rogers” came back.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Jordan was still unsure about a connection, but it was clear the front of the mall was under surveillance. She couldn’t afford to take the chance. It could be nothing, or it could be everything. “Donner, find out everything you can about our friends on the corner and the woman in the black Volvo. Harper, keep an eye on her. I want to know if she sneezes.” Jordan turned back toward the building and addressed Walker. “You keep an eye on the green Forester.”

“Roger that.” He smiled and popped his gum.

They were in trouble here. Things were escalating, and he was smiling and blowing bubbles. What about “fucked” did he not understand?

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s not every day I get to wear my boots and jeans to work.”

“You’re still a Marine, cowboy.”

“Ten-four, ma’am.”

“Keep your eyes open, Walker. We may be in for the next round of entertainment.”

“I’m all over it, ma’am,” he said.

Jordan nodded and tried her best to feign nonchalance as she reentered the building. Should she order a tactical pullout? Right now, all she had to go on were two suspicious vehicles and a gut that was on fire.

The doors closed behind her, and she glanced at the two old men still nursing their
feenjan
. The chance of a pullout leading to a firefight with casualties was high. But what were the options? The front was ripe for an ambush. If Donner brought the car around to the side, they would be picked up as soon as they turned on Y. Bin Nun or Ibn Gevirol. That left a backdoor retreat and a call for reinforcements. Time to uneven the odds in their favor.

Jordan turned on her cell phone and dialed Daugherty. Because there was no immediate embassy housing or safe house available, the judge and Lucy had been forced to stay in their apartment. Under the circumstances, and based on the judge’s ex-wife’s friendship with the ambassador, she was sure Daugherty would send in the cavalry.

She thought wrong. Daugherty turned her down flat, and she could hear Posner in the background egging him on.

“I don’t care who the fuck he was married to,” Daugherty said. “That asshole should have taken his kid and gone back to the States. Look, Jordan, the secretary of state arrives in two days, and you still haven’t told me if Cline’s murder is connected. Figure it out! Get the judge back to his apartment, lock his butt down, and get me some answers!”

Daugherty fumbled the phone.

“Rookie,” he mumbled before clicking off. The word formed like it left a bad taste in his mouth, probably for Posner’s benefit. The two were a pair of good ol’ boys desperate to hold off their advancing age—and the advancement of the younger set. Not something she had time to worry about now.

Left with the local police as backup, Jordan dug Weizman’s card out of her pocket and dialed the cell phone number scribbled on the back. He picked up on the fourth ring. Jordan quickly recapped the situation. “I need your help.”

“How can you be certain there is even a threat?”

Honestly?
“I can’t. The woman may be tailing the Palestinians or early for a haircut. But a car with four Arabs registered to the company one of our murder victims worked for is too great a coincidence to ignore. I don’t have the manpower to approach the cars without pulling Marines from the protection detail, leaving the judge and Lucy vulnerable.”

“Stay put. I am ten minutes away.”

Jordan hung up the phone and glanced at her watch. They could wait ten minutes.

The radio mic on her shoulder squawked.

“Agent Jordan?” Harper’s voice sounded tentative.

“Yes.”

“She’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s gone? I thought you had a bead on her.”

“I did, but I heard someone in the hallway. I was distracted. Now the car is gone.”

Jordan ran through the possibilities. The woman could have innocently stopped and then moved on. Or she might have realized they were watching and repositioned herself. The last scenario—that she moved into position for an attack—spurred Jordan to action.

“Okay, everyone—listen up. Harper, pack it up. Be ready to pick up Walker at the front door. Donner, you stay sharp and stay put.”

Jordan took the steps to the basement two at a time. “Corporal Price, we need a back entrance, yesterday.”

“There’s only one. It’s through one of the empty offices on the main floor.”

“Which one?”

“I narrowed it down to two without kicking in doors.”

“We have two options.” Jordan pulled a map from her pocket. “We can hunker down and hope the cavalry arrives before the enemy, or we can vacate the building. We can’t go out through the front or side doors. They’re being watched. If we can locate the back exit and get an all-clear, we can move south on Weisel then cut over to Adam Hacohen on Yahalal. After that it’s a straight shot south to Dizengoff.”

The corporal nodded. “Smart. That puts us walking south against the traffic on a northbound one-way. Even if they catch on, it makes a snatch-and-grab nearly impossible. They’ll have to circle around.”

“Right,” Jordan said. The problem was, it didn’t prevent a kill shot.

J
ordan and the corporal kicked in two doors and located the back exit. They had inflicted some property damage. Jordan hoped Daugherty choked on the bill.

Pushing open the door, she checked the back alley. It looked deserted. She spoke into the radio. “I need an update.”

“The two guys parked across the street just left with a girl from the salon,” answered Walker. “No trouble. The dudes are still there. No movement.”

“Any sign of the Volvo?” Jordan waited for the crackle.

“That’s a negative,” said Harper. “I think it’s safe to say she headed down Y. Bin Nun.”

Jordan wondered what the hell the woman was up to. Was she tailing the green car, or was she working in tandem with someone else? The Arabs had the front and side exits covered. Was the woman headed around to the back?

Jordan glanced at her watch. They had six minutes before Weizman arrived. A lot could happen in that amount of time. Logic said to stay put and wait. Instinct told her to run.

“We have to get out,” Jordan said. “Now.”

Walker, the commanding officer, agreed.

“Hold on!” She had an idea. “It’s Taylor they’re after, right?”

“Where are you going with this?” Walker asked.

“What if I send the corporal out as a decoy? We put him in Taylor’s clothes. He keeps his head down and gets in the car with Donner. They drive off, and the four men follow.”

“Won’t they expect the kid to be with him?”

“Maybe they’ll figure the kid stayed here.”

“It might work.” Walker sounded unsure, but Jordan figured it was worth a try.

“Even if they figure it out,” she said, “timed correctly, the diversion might buy us a few minutes to get the judge out the back. We can reconvene at Dizengoff.”

“That leaves you with only Harper and me.”

“It’s the best option we have.” Once decided, Jordan sprinted back to Alena’s office.

“Get Lucy,” she said to Taylor. “We have to go.” When he didn’t respond, she barked, “Now!”

Taylor held his ground. “Alena’s not finished.”

“Yes, she is.” Jordan pushed open the door to the back room. Taylor followed.

“Lucy, let’s—” The scene inside caught her off guard, and she stopped midstride. Lucy lay on a small cot to the right of the door, her eyes closed. Alena sat in a chair across the room, turning and twisting her fingers. Yury stood behind a curtain that was strung across the back of the room, stubbing out a cigarette.

He pushed back the curtain. “What do you think you are doing?” he whispered. “You must not interrupt.”

“We need to leave. There’s no time to explain.”

“Alena will finish shortly.” Yury bullied her back toward the door.

Jordan stepped around him and took a step toward the cot. “She’s finished now. Lucy, get up. We’re going.”

Lucy lay still, her gaze flitting back and forth between Jordan and Alena.

Alena stood and walked over to the girl. She placed her hand gently on Lucy’s forehead and spoke softly. “Be careful with her. She is fragile and needs to rest. She will be running a fever. Give her nothing to bring it down. If her temperature climbs above thirty-eight degrees, call me. Immediately.” The Russian picked up a bottle of water, pressed her palm firmly against the cap, and concentrated on the sloshing liquid. After a moment, she extended the water bottle toward Jordan. “Have her drink all of this within the next hour.”

Jordan reached for the water. “Got it.”

“
Nyet!
” Alena maintained her grip on the bottle. “It’s important you do what I say.”

Taylor took the bottle. “She’ll drink it,”

Jordan reached out her hand and pulled Lucy to her feet. “Let’s go.” Pushing the child toward the door, she nodded to Alena and Yury. “You two, be careful.”

Taylor started to apologize, but Jordan cut him off. “We need to move. You need to take off your clothes.”

“What?”

“Do it. Trade clothes with the corporal.”

The corporal was already stripped to his skivvies and holding his uniform. Taylor looked less than happy, but he complied. While he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, she opened the door to the downstairs foyer and checked to make sure the hallway was clear.

“Hurry up,” she said.

When the men were dressed, Jordan led them down the hall to the back stairs. She didn’t want to scare Lucy, but Taylor needed to understand the danger he was in. “Listen to me, Taylor. We have company out front.” She paused to let her words sink in. “We found a back door that doesn’t appear to be guarded. We’re going out through the alley to pick up our ride.”

Jordan led the way through the lawyer’s office and then checked her watch again.

Four minutes.

“The plan is to send the corporal out front disguised as you.” Jordan jerked her head toward the Marine, who flashed a thumbs-up. Dressed in Taylor’s clothes, he looked more like the judge than Jordan would have figured. They were close to the same height and had similar coloring. Taylor’s shirt was tight and pulled across the corporal’s chest, but if the corporal moved quickly and kept his head down, they stood a chance of pulling this off.

“The corporal will drive off with PFC Donner,” Jordan said to Taylor. “Then Gunnery Sergeant Harper and the Master Gunny will head out in the second vehicle to pick us up. You, Lucy, and I are going to walk out through this door and start moving south against the traffic. Once Walker and Harper pick us up, we’ll rendezvous back at the apartment.”

Lucy clung to her father’s hand.

Jordan bent down until she was nose to nose with the girl. “I get that you’re scared, Lucy. We’re going to protect you and your dad, but it’s important that you listen to me and do exactly what I tell you to do.”

“Back off,” Taylor said.

Jordan straightened up and stared at Taylor. His expression indicated he was in charge of his daughter and would bridge no more interference. Her mind flitted back to Dizengoff. Cline dead in the square. The apartment manager slaughtered in his office. The two Arabs killed in al-Ajami. There were already four men dead on his account, and she was putting four more in danger—eight if she counted herself, Lucy, and the Petrenkos.

“It’s important she understands,” Jordan said.

Taylor waited a beat and then spoke to Lucy. “You stay right with me. We’re going to follow Agent Jordan’s lead.”

Lucy sucked in her lower lip and nodded.

“Good. It’s settled.” Jordan gave a rundown to the Marines. “The corporal’s coming out. Donner, watch for the men to follow. If they don’t, then double back and cover the route. Walker and Harper, double back to Bloch.” She traced the route on the map by memory. “Pick us up at the intersection of Weisel and Liberman.”

Jordan turned to Taylor. “There are two suspect vehicles. We have eyes on one, a green Forester with four men inside. We lost track of the other, a black Volvo. The driver is a woman, possibly the same one who shot the Palestinian in Dizengoff Square and fired on you. We are going to walk out this door, turn to the left, and walk to the street. It is a northbound road. We will walk south. The Marines will pick us up one block down on the corner.”

“Got it,” Taylor said. Lucy nodded.

Jordan forced a smile. “It’s going to be okay. Keep your eyes open. If you see anything out of the ordinary—
anything
—tell me.”

Jordan was glad he didn’t point out their failure in keeping tabs on the woman. No doubt she would hear enough of that once Daugherty got wind. She checked her watch again. Two minutes to backup if Weizman was punctual. A quick look told her the back alley still stood empty. Not that she expected to see the Volvo parked by the garbage cans, but she expected something. Her gut told her to keep moving.

“The corporal is in the car and they’re moving. The green car has held position.”

They hadn’t taken the bait.

“Let’s go,” Jordan said, moving into the alley. Taylor kept Lucy behind him and stayed on her heels. There were a few parked cars, none of them the make or model they were looking for, all empty. Still, Jordan had a nagging feeling that something was off.

A squeal of brakes caught her attention. The black government sedan with Harper at the wheel turned into the alley and raced toward them at full speed.

“What the—?” She gestured for Taylor to get down and reached for her gun.

The radio on her shoulder squawked. “They’re on our tail.”

As the sedan squealed to a stop beside them, the Forester rounded the corner. The black Volvo headed straight toward it, careening up the street against traffic.

“Get in!” Jordan pushed Lucy into the backseat. Taylor followed.

“Go,” Lucy shouted. “Go!”

“Get down!” Jordan yelled. “Keep her head down, Taylor.”

A shot rang out and the Forester veered sharply right, slamming into a parked car. Jordan got a look at the man in the rear passenger seat, and then the Volvo swung around it and accelerated.

“What the hell happened?” Jordan shouted, as Harper wheeled out of the alley.

“Harper pulled up, and the next thing I knew, the dudes were behind us,” Walker said. “I figured the best thing to do was get the three of you inside the car.”

Why hadn’t the Palestinians taken the bait? Jordan wondered. “Was it that obvious that the corporal wasn’t Taylor?”

“He had me fooled,” Harper said, careening into the street.

Positioning herself on her knees, Jordan faced the back window and pushed Lucy toward the floor. “Get down and don’t get up until I say it’s clear.”

The Volvo screeched around the corner and then settled into a rhythm behind them. Jordan assessed the woman at the wheel. She had long, dark hair hanging around her shoulders and an intensity about her that commanded attention. This was a woman who wasn’t used to losing.

Well, neither was Jordan.

The woman’s hand came up. There was a flash of silver. Jordan leveled her gun. If this woman wanted to play, Jordan was game. “Turn left and then take the next right,” she ordered.

“But that puts us into the neighborhoods,” Harper said.

“That’s right. Find a cul-de-sac.”

Harper glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Then we’ll be trapped.”

“Just do it.” Jordan had a plan. Maybe not a good plan, but there was no way to shake this woman, and Jordan would be damned if she’d give up her charges. What they needed to do was capture her.

“Once we turn in to the cul-de-sac, I’m going to open the door and roll out. Taylor, you keep a tight hold on Lucy. Harper, the Volvo is going to come in behind you fast. Spin one-hundred-eighty degrees and face her.”

“You want to play chicken?” Harper said.

“Hang on,” said Walker.

“Are you going to jump out of the car?” Lucy said.

Jordan would have expected her to sound scared. Instead, the kid sounded excited. Jordan wondered if she was spiking a fever.

“Free to speak, ma’am?” Walker said.

“Yes.”

“This is nuts.”

Crazy or not, it was the only way she could see to end this and their best chance at getting some answers.

“Turn,” she ordered.

The car veered sharply right. The driver’s side wheels came off the pavement. Jordan threw open the door as the car settled back down with a thud. As the car swerved left, she launched herself out and tucked and rolled. She felt the pain and heard the squeal of the Volvo’s tires as it followed the sedan into the cul-de-sac.
The government vehicle maneuvered 180 degrees, and the Volvo’s brakes ground hard.

Jordan forced herself to her feet. Scrambling around behind the Volvo, she kept herself low. Two quick shots and the back tires went flat. Then, moving quickly alongside the car, she leveled her gun at the driver over the top of the driver’s side mirror. “Hello.”

The woman looked stunned. Throwing the car in reverse, she tried accelerating backward. The flat back tires slowed the vehicle’s progress. Jordan shot out the front tires.

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

The woman turned off her car and positioned her hands at ten and two on the wheel.

“She has a gun,” Jordan said. “Somebody secure the weapon.”

Walker stepped forward.

“Cuff her hands, and watch out for her feet. I imagine she’s very well trained.”

“Bravo, Raisa Jordan,” the woman said.

“You know my name.” Somehow Jordan wasn’t surprised.

“I know a lot about you. Perhaps more than your own government knows.” Her statement had a chilling effect. Jordan’s mind flashed to what Alena had revealed earlier. Jordan shook it off. The woman was toying with her, playing for time.

“What is it you want?” Jordan asked.

Her gaze flitted to the judge and Lucy, and then she locked eyes with Jordan. “You must have figured that out by now.”

Jordan shook her head. “Not yet. But trust me, we will.”