Lethal Force (11 page)

“Who did this?” Danko asked.

“Who do you think?” Alex shook his head. Maybe he should have conducted an intelligence test before getting this group together. No, if they were too smart they would not follow orders as readily. “Maybe we should not have let Jake Adams escape in Washington.”

“We needed to know what he knew when he knew it,” Danko reminded his friend. “And to see where he would go.”

That was part of it, Alex knew. But their employer also wanted Adams alive for some reason. “But how did he find Bogdan and the scientist?”

That question brought a blank stare from Danko. Finally he said, “We will ask him that just before we kill him.”

But first they needed to track down Jake Adams and capture the scientist once again. Alex only hoped Milena could do her magic again with her computer.

●

Milena sat on her red satin sheets wearing only her black lace boy-leg panties and a matching, overflowing half-cup demi-bra, as she typed away on her laptop computer, doing her best to find out anything she could about the train traveling across the Pacific Northwest. She knew it was the westbound Empire Builder. That had been easy to discover. But she was having no luck with the passenger list. Well, not entirely true. She knew those who had purchased tickets with charge cards and debit accounts. However, based on the location of the tracker signal in the standard seating car, and not a sleeper, she had narrowed the possibles down to a dozen or so passengers. All of them had purchased tickets with cash. Only a few of those had gotten on the train in Whitefish, Montana. Unfortunately she had no clue about their age or gender.

She was sad to hear about her young friend Bogdan getting killed in Montana. Alex had given her that news just minutes ago, and she had told him he could catch the train in Portland, Oregon if he could get to the train station by ten a.m. To help him, she had found the two men a flight from Kalispell, Montana to Portland departing at 6:00 a.m. and arriving at 8:20 a.m. That would give them plenty of time to get from the airport to the train station.

In the meantime, Milena would keep track of the movement to make sure they didn't get off the train somewhere between Spokane and Portland. She had that working in the background while she surfed the net for any information she could find on Jake Adams. He had requited himself nicely so far. They already knew he had worked for the CIA until his eventual retirement years ago. And she had read about a few of the cases he had working since leaving the Agency, including that whole Berlin affair. She had to smile every time she watched the recent video of Adams testifying before congress. He was a handsome man, which made her glad that they had not killed him recently. Maybe she could get some of that. If she wasn't so occupied with the tracking, she would pleasure herself thinking about Jake Adams. Well, maybe just a quick one. She smiled.

Missoula, Montana

The three of them had driven until late the night before, found a place to crash in a mom and pop motel on the outskirts of the city, with Jake checking in using cash, and then immediately went to sleep—Congresswoman Lori Freeman in her own bed, Professor James Tramil in the other, and Jake sleeping in a tattered old chair against the wall, his gun ready in case someone came through the door unannounced.

At the break of dawn Jake had checked them out and they found a Perkins for breakfast. Jake would use nothing but cash until he could get a few items from a storage unit.

By seven in the morning Jake had gotten them to a nice house in the southern part of Missoula on the hill overlooking town.

Now he stood at the thick wooden door of the two-story house and reluctantly rang the doorbell. As he waited, he looked into the driveway at the Ford Explorer. Lori was turned around and talking with the professor. And something was funny.

The door opened and Jake turned to see someone he hadn't visited for quite some time. Dressed in a pair of sweats and a Montana Grizzlies T-Shirt, was his younger brother Victor. Vic was an attorney with the largest and most prestigious law firm in Montana, with offices in all the major cities in this state.

“My God,” his brother said. “It's the hero of YouTube who told that Congressman from California to screw off.”

Jake shook his head and smiled.

The two shook hands and turned that into an embrace.

“I was polite,” Jake said. “To a point. He tried my patience.”

“Well come on in out of the cold,” Vic said. “I've got some fresh Montana cowboy coffee brewing.”

Jake gazed back at the rental SUV in the driveway. “Got a couple friends with me.”

His brother looked around Jake and said, “Is that Lori Freeman in your vehicle?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn't know you two were friends.”

“She was a few years behind me in high school and one year behind you,” Jake said. “But you know that, since the two of you worked together for a number of years.”

Vic smiled. “She told you that? Was that before or after your famous testimony before her committee?” He hesitated and looked at the SUV again. “Who's the other guy?”

“It's better you don't know.”

“Thought you were retired.”

“So did I.” Jake waved at the two in the Ford Explorer and they got out and headed toward the house.

Lori smiled as she got to the front door. “Well, Vic, they must be paying you a lot more than when I worked at the firm.”

“You're welcome back any time you get sick of Washington,” Vic said and then he and the congresswoman hugged briefly.

They all went inside and sat around the dining room table, Vic pouring thick, black coffee for Lori and Jake and a glass of water for the professor. Jake had determined early on that he could use his brother's help but he also wanted to insulate him against any potential danger. He told Vic a quick story about the professor witnessing a murder in Oregon, which was true, and how the killer was now trying to hunt him down to make sure he didn't testify against them. Jake didn't mention the fact that he had killed the killer himself the night before outside of Whitefish. He had called that incident in to the Whitefish Police on the drive down to Missoula a few hours ago at one of the last public phone booths in America. There was no way Jake would let Lori get wrapped up in a shooting incident in rural Montana. She didn't need that scrutiny.

“What can I do for you, Jake?” his brother asked him. “Sounds like he needs police protection.”

Jake considered that. He could give his brother a little more information. Put out a feeler. “They tried that in Whitefish.”

Vic cast his gaze upon Professor Tramil. “You were part of that?”

Tramil nodded his head. “The cops were shot right in front of me.”

Shifting back toward his brother, Vic said, “They haven't reported this in the media, but I understand a man was kidnapped during that shooting. That was this man?”

“Yeah, little brother. That was him. And if they'll shoot a couple of cops, they'll do just about anything to make him dead.”

Vic sat with his mouth open, speechless for a moment as he thought about the situation. “Okay, I'm confused. How in the hell did you and Lori get involved with this?”

Jake said nothing.

“And maybe more importantly, how did you find this man when the local police, the Flathead County Sheriff's department, the FBI, and the Montana Highway Patrol failed to do so?”

Jake shrugged. “You know what I used to do, Vic.”

His brother leaned across the table. “Are you back with them?”

“No. But just because I'm retired doesn't mean I've forgotten everything I learned.”

Vic's mind was reeling. Jake remembered his brother's little tells. When he did math in his head, or considered a complex problem, his eyes would gaze upward and his lips would move, as if he were speaking the thoughts to himself. He was a terrible poker player.

“But,” Vic started and cocked his head to the right, “what do you two have to do with a man in Oregon witnessing a murder?”

Okay, Jake's brother had a damn good point. “Let's just say I was hired by a concerned interest. I can't say who did so. You understand. Just like you have attorney client privilege, I have similar respect with my private consulting firm.”

“The law doesn't see it that way, Jake.”

They would get nowhere if he tried to argue the law with his brother, a subject he knew intimately and which had no real basis of understanding for Jake. When he worked for the Agency overseas, he rarely had to worry about what was legal. Ethics were debated from time to time, but the mission was everything. He let the lawyers worry about the details. He just tried to stay alive.

“I hear you, brother,” Jake said. “But when bullets start flying, I don't have the option to look through a law book for precedence. I have to react. Better yet, I have to be proactive. Which is why I'm here.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, which he handed to his brother.

“What's this for?” Vic asked.

“A retainer.”

“Really? A twenty? That won't buy me a box of pens.”

Jake shrugged. “Call it the family discount.” He looked around the room at all the nice things his brother owned, from the high end dining room oak table they sat at to the original artwork on the walls. “I'll get you more when I need you. But right now I need my cash. Speaking of which. . .”

“Seriously? You came here for money? I thought you made a crap-load of cash on your last case in Europe.”

“Well, a few cases ago,” Jake corrected. “I didn't really make anything off my last two cases, except to stay alive. I'll pay you back, brother. You know I'm good for it. It's just that America has screwed up laws on cash. You can only pull so much each day, and then you can only travel with a certain amount.” In reality Jake didn't need anything from his brother, but he wanted his brother to feel needed by his big brother. “Never mind, Vic. I'll get the cash. And that's not why I came here. I need to stash our friend in a safe location.”

“You want him to stay here with me?” Vic looked at the professor, who seemed a bit disturbed by that idea as well.

“No, Vic. But he might need you to bring him some provisions.”

“Provisions? What's he going to be, some mountain man trapper?”

Jake smiled. “That's right. And only you know where he'll be.”

“Your cabin in the Bitterroots? Jesus, Jake. I don't even know if I can find that. I haven't been there since we were kids. There's got to be ten feet of snow up there right now.”

“That's right. No phone. No cell service. No internet. No television.”

“No electricity,” Vic reminded his brother.

“It has a generator with enough gas to run for a month, which powers up the battery packs. But I need you to know he's there in case anything happens to me.”

The congresswoman's eyes suddenly shot toward Jake and she said, “What do you have planned, Jake?”

“I need to find the people who want. . .our friend dead.”

“But you already. . .” She stopped herself and bit her lower lip.

Vic chimed in. “Why can't you leave this to law enforcement?”

“Listen,” Jake said, “I have all the respect in the world for the police. But they can't be everywhere at all times. That's why we need armed citizens. We have to use our God-given right to self protection.” He was preaching to the choir here. His brother was well known in the state of Montana for defending an individual's right to carry concealed firearms. Same was true of the congresswoman, who had an A-plus rating by the National Rifle Association. The only one he wasn't sure about was the good professor, who hailed from one of the most liberal states in America.

His brother Vic raised his hands as if in surrender. “I agree, Jake. I understand the concept in the abstract. I'm just trying to discern how this matters to our current situation.”

He didn't really have time for this discussion. Jake needed to stash the professor, along with enough provisions to last him a couple of weeks. And that wouldn't be easy with the amount of snow on the ground. He also didn't know how long those who were after them would take to realize they were not following him.

Eventually he convinced his brother to quit asking questions and just do as his big brother asked. Vic would drive up to Jake's cabin in the Bitterroot Mountains in one week to check on the professor and bring him supplies. Jake gave his brother the GPS coordinates.

With that behind them, Jake said goodbye to his brother and thanked him for the coffee and conversation.

Driving down the hill toward downtown Missoula, Jake asked Lori, “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

She looked somewhat hurt. “I thought I would go with you up into the mountains.”

“No, that's not a good idea,” Jake said. “It's better if you have plausible deniability from now on.”

“And what about the man you shot up in Whitefish? I was with you there.”

He wasn't sure what she was getting at. Was she trying to use leverage against him? Or was she simply trying to say she was already involved? “That was self defense,” Jake assured her.

“Yeah, but we still left the scene. We should have called it in immediately.”

“Exigent circumstances,” he said.

She laughed. “Now you're trying to explain the law to me? Exigent circumstances is what cops use to kick in doors when they don't have a warrant and they think they hear someone scream inside.”

“That sounds like a liberal interpretation.”

“Hey,” came a voice from the back seat. The good professor. “Would you two just have sex and get it over with?”

That shut the both of them up. Jake tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He had to admit that he was quite attracted to the congresswoman from Montana. Who wouldn't be? But he also didn't want to place her in any more danger.