The Killing Chase (Beach & Riley Book 2) (10 page)

“That’d be helpful. Does he speak English?”

Priest interjected, “Don’t worry about it, mate. I can translate.”

“That’s right – your Khmer’s pretty good, isn’t it?” Billy D. replied. “My guy doesn’t speak a word of English, but he’s handy with a blade, and he’s all yours.”

“Just tell him to get us where we need to be,” Jake said. “He doesn’t need to get involved.”

Dozer pulled cash from his pocket to pay the check, but Billy D. waved him off. “I’ve got this one, Dozer – peace offering.”

The big Aussie put his money away, shooting a tight grin at the kingpin before exiting the booth. The silent exchange was clearly understood; Billy D. had been suitably admonished.  The small Cambodian guide was summoned, and Billy D. explained his duties for the night. The little man nodded eagerly with each instruction, while Priest listened nearby to ensure there was no skullduggery afoot. Satisfied the arrangement was legitimate, he nodded toward the stairs, and they all left.

Billy D. watched the last of the group disappear through the arched entry before dialing a number on his cell phone. Keeping his eye squarely on the doorway, he inserted a Bluetooth earpiece. “Hello? Yeah, it’s me. Okay, I sent them where you told me, so we’re square, right – my debt is paid?”

Chapter 11

The receptionist, Miss Cosban, pursed her lips, giving the pair her best look of disdain as Foxx followed Alan through Dr. Pollock’s waiting room out to the SUV. Behind the wheel, Foxx turned to his partner. “What the hell was that all about? That doctor probably thinks you’re nuts now.”

“I couldn’t elaborate in front of him.”

“Okay, but blurting out ‘a matter of national security’ – really? Some chins’ll be wagging after that little bombshell. I can just hear that freak-show receptionist and her cronies now.”

“Start the car and turn on the radio. I don’t want anyone else to hear what I have to tell you.”

“Paranoid much?” Foxx said, complying with Beach’s instructions. “What the hell’s got you wound so tight?”

Beach reached for the volume control, turning the music up loud enough so he was certain no one outside could overhear. “I found a tiny puncture mark on the back of Tinsley’s neck.”

“The guy hit a tree at fifty miles an hour. He’s got all kinds of marks all over him.”

“You don’t get it. Remember I told you about Project Hallucineers? I told you the hallucination implant has to be delivered to the brain stem. How do you think it gets there?”

“I don’t know, a needle through the…” Foxx squinted like he was trying to see something in the distance. “You mean someone got to our guy with that medical voodoo stuff? I thought you said it was all taken away by the Department of Defense.”

“It was! Why do you think I’m so shocked?”

“Wait a minute. How could someone stick a needle into the back of a guy’s neck without him knowing, especially a doctor?”

“It doesn’t take a needle. Some genius on Professor Gelling’s team at Blue Sky Biotech – what the hell was his name? Sanders – that’s it, Dr. Sanders. This guy Sanders developed a specialized delivery device to implant the hallucination technology into the brain. It looks like a little glue gun, and it shoots the thing into your neck, right below the base of your skull. It’s so small you can barely feel it. They can do it while you’re asleep, and it wouldn’t even wake you.”

“So you think someone from the DoD used this thing to get rid of Tinsley. But why?”

“That’s just one of many burning questions this whole thing raises. Like, who would want him silenced? And who could have programmed the hallucination that made Tinsley ram into a tree? According to Gelling, the only guy with the necessary skills was that computer game designer, Eric Rothstein. And he’s in federal maximum security awaiting execution for crimes including murder and treason.”

“And who could have gotten close enough to the doc to stick that thing in his neck without him noticing?”

Beach froze; deep in thought.

“What is it?” Foxx prompted.

“Most important question of all – what was Dr. Tinsley going to tell us that got him killed? And how did ‘they’ – whoever the hell ‘they’ are – know he needed to be silenced?”

Beach pulled his cell phone out. They both looked at it intently before Foxx reached over to grab the device. He pulled the back off to access the battery and SIM card. “Can’t see anything that shouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe it was in Tinsley’s.”

“One way to find out,” Foxx said, turning his head to reverse the car.

They found the sheriff’s office in less than five minutes. Foxx led the way in and slapped his hand on the service counter. A deputy with a half-eaten donut approached. “Help you, boys?”

Foxx already had his badge out. “FBI. We need to see Dr. Tinsley’s belongings.”

“What for?”

“Just get them – now!”

“Okay, hold your horses.” The man sauntered off, mumbling something derogatory about city folk and feds.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to tell if his phone was bugged?” Beach asked.

“If it’s a physical device, I’ll see it straightaway. If not, I’ve got some software on my phone that should tell me if it was cloned. Let’s just hope it still works after the impact of the crash.”

The deputy returned with a plastic evidence bag. Foxx reached out to grab it, but the deputy pulled it away and handed Beach a clipboard. “You’ll need to sign here first.”

Beach complied, and the deputy relinquished his prize. Foxx retrieved the phone, quickly removing the battery cover. He checked the inner workings then replaced the SIM card and battery. “Here goes nothing.” He pressed the phone’s power button, watching for any signs of life. The scratched and crazed display flashed as the processor fired up. Finally the phone let out a muffled blip, and Foxx let out a heavy sigh. “Password protected, damn it! This’ll take a while.”

Beach smiled politely at the deputy. “Can you tell us where we can get a decent coffee and one of those delightful looking donuts please, Deputy?”

“Big Al’s Diner is a block and a half that way.” He crooked a finger to his left. It ain’t no high-society, federal city-slicker joint, but it does us simple country folk just fine.”

Foxx was in no mood for the unnecessary sarcasm. “I guess they don’t teach manners in West Virginia like they do in the small Georgia town where I grew up. We’ll bring the phone back when I’m done, thank you very much.”

Walking to Big Al’s, Beach couldn’t help himself. “There’s nothing small town about you, partner. What small town in Georgia?”

Foxx smiled broadly. “Atlanta.”

After three coffee refills, some chili cheese fries, and a donut each, Foxx had eventually worked through enough combinations to crack the phone’s four-digit password. He’d called the manufacturer’s help desk to have the anti-hacking software turned off before he started, so he was able to work his way up from 0000 through to 2345, which Dr. Tinsley has used as his password.

“Not too simple but not too complicated. I like his style.”

“Can you find out if it was cloned?”

“First I have to clone it with my phone. The software I’ve got will do a reverse trace on all Bluetooth and WiFi connections. Searching now… and, bingo! Yup, someone definitely forced a pairing with this thing. Looks like whatever device they used was pretty high-tech. It’s not as easy to hack these things as people think.”

“So someone was monitoring his calls?”

“Definitely.”

Beach nodded, then dialed a number on his own cell. “Time for reinforcements.”

“Who you calling?”

“It’s time to call in the heavy artillery.”

Foxx tilted his head quizzically. But Beach just held up his hand for silence. A few seconds later his call was answered.

“Jake, it’s Alan Beach. I think we’ve got a serious problem.”

Chapter 12

Following their visit with Billy D, Jake had called General Khay of the Royal Cambodian Army. Jake began to give Khay a brief explanation of the situation, but the wise and perceptive general had stopped Jake mid-sentence. In his mildly British accent, he’d said, “No further explanation required, Jake Riley. Tell me the address. I have a full Counter-Terrorism Commando unit standing by at a base just minutes from the city center. They are on ready alert for a training exercise and at your disposal.”

Jake had provided the general details for one of Ugolev’s safe houses, adding that the Russians were backed by Police General Klot. Khay had laughed dismissively, urging Jake to accept some of his highly trained breach specialists for his own operation as well. “That won’t be necessary, General. Thanks for the offer, but you know how I operate.”

“How could I ever forget? Without your lone-wolf style and deadly skills, my daughter would surely have died. Call me when you’re in position, my friend.”

After the call, Jake had gotten into a waiting
tuktuk
beside Mike Lee. The driver had been instructed to follow Billy D.’s man on his motorcycle, while Dozer and Priest followed in another
tuktuk
. Less than five minutes into their journey, Jake’s cell phone had vibrated in his pocket. He’d accepted the call, straining to hear above the noise of the tuktuk and Phnom Penh traffic chaos. “I can’t hear you – hang on a minute.”

He tapped the driver’s shoulder then pointed to the roadside. The tuktuk driver pulled over and cut his engine, watching in amusement as the big man awkwardly squeezed out through the wrong side of the vehicle. Once disentangled, Jake put the phone back to his ear.

“Alan, is that you?”

“Yes, can you hear me? Where are you?”

“Cambodia. I haven’t got time to talk – we’ll have to catch up another time.”

“Wait, Jake, this is not a social call – this is serious.”

“Listen to me, Alan – someone’s taken Tik. Is it more serious than that?”

“My God, is she okay? Will you be able to get her back?”

“We’re on our way now.”

“All right. What I’ve got to tell you is very disturbing, but not as urgent as your situation. It can wait until Tik’s safe. Call me as soon as you can, but make sure you have a secure line.”

Jake hung up and wedged himself back in the tuktuk, this time through the correct door. Mike struggled across to make room for him. The tiny seat was not designed for large western bodies.

“Who was that?”

“A friend.”

Mike knew better than to press Jake at a time like this. But a few seconds later, Jake offered, “I thought it might have been an update on Tik.”

Mike nodded, remaining silent.

Five minutes later, the driver guided his tiny vehicle into a slot behind Billy D’s Cambodian knife expert. Mike and Jake got out and waited for Dozer and Priest to catch up. As the Aussies approached, their demeanors had changed completely. Gone was the good-natured larrikinism. It was time to go to work, and they knew full well the risks involved. Losing Tik was not an option.

Leaving the scene, their tuktuks made a u-turn to head back to their tourist hunting grounds. While Priest spoke with the little Cambodian, the others surveyed the area. The quiet residential zone was dotted with well-tended colonial style homes. Pretty tropical flowers and meandering vines draped the fences, giving the scene an atmosphere of suburban Buddhist serenity. Most houses were in darkness, the inhabitants sleeping through the humid night, ahead of their coming work day. A couple of dwellings showed signs of life through the flickering light of television sets in darkened rooms, but Jake was confident he and his crew’s activities would go largely unnoticed.

His detailed discussion with Billy’s man concluded, Priest returned to the group. “I sent the little guy on his way like you said. Are you sure your general and his men can handle the other safe house without one of us there?”

“As sure as I can be,” Jake replied. “He’s called in Special Forces Commandos from the National Counter-Terrorism group, so I think he’s got it under control. Still, I’d rather we have the live target. Let’s hope your little pal’s intel is right, and this is the place they’re holding her.”

“He seemed pretty confident, reckons the other place is too easy to breach. This one’s supposed to have some kind of basement or root-cellar setup out the back. He seemed certain this is where she’ll be.”

“Okay, you and Dozer start your reconnaissance, I’ll call the general and make sure his guys are ready. Mike, you find a cover position across the street and call us in when we’re ready. Get your Bluetooth headsets on. And don’t forget, we don’t have silencers, so it’s knives only, unless you absolutely have to fire. Let’s do this.”

Jake dialed up General Khay on his cell phone. “General, we’re nearly ready for breach. Is your team set?”

“You mean
teams,
my friend. There are no half measures in this. I swear on my life, if your friend is in this house, my men will extract her safely.”

“Thank you,
Khay Rith
.” Jake used the general’s full name, both to acknowledge its meaning,
Victorious Power,
and to emphasize the personal nature of their relationship. It showed the general that he’d made the effort to learn his customs, further endearing him to the powerful military leader.

“Anything for you, my friend. Give me the signal when your team is prepared.”

The group walked a hundred yards up the street to the target dwelling. Dozer and Priest promptly disappeared into the shadows to reconnoiter the target while Mike Lee traced the property line across the street, seeking the best covered vantage point. Jake lingered in front of the adjoining home; scanning the windows of neighboring houses for any sign they were being observed. By the time the former Australian SAS operators returned, Jake was satisfied they’d made it this far undetected. The team tested their comms and waited while Jake called General Khay to give him the go signal. Then Jake pointed toward the target, and their synchronized missions were underway.

Jake made off toward the far end of the property’s street frontage, while Dozer and Priest entered the nearest neighboring yard, jumped the fence, and maneuvered to the base of the target dwelling. Dozer clasped his hands together in a sling, allowing Priest to insert his foot and be boosted up to peer through a window. Seeing no sign of life, Priest dropped back down to continue along the wall. At the next window, they repeated the procedure. Dropping down for the second time, Priest shook his head, and the brothers moved off toward the back of the house.

By the time Jake arrived at the rear, Priest’s voice came over the comms: “Clear to back entrance.”

“Copy.”

“Clear at front,” Lee reported.

“On three,” Jake ordered.

At the other side of the house, Priest watched for Jake’s hand signal. His fingers counted down from three, and the Aussie brothers bolted to their positions either side of the back door, while Jake readied himself over a makeshift trapdoor leading under the dwelling. Back to the wall, Priest watched for the next signal. Jake held his hand up, counting down again, and the three men simultaneously breached their assigned entries.

The sting of futility hit Jake immediately. There had been no response to their breach, so the intel must have been wrong. The three highly trained operators ran their full search before giving up, but the situation was obvious. The dwelling and its basement now clear, the team regrouped in the back yard.

Jake hailed Mike Lee. “It’s a blowout, Mike. The place is empty. Maintain position and keep your eyes open. I’m calling the general.”

Dozer and Priest watched expectantly as Jake dialed the number. “General, do you have a report?”

“It’s coming in now.” General Khay paused, listening to his counter-terrorism team leader. “I am truly sorry, Jake Riley, there is no one at this target. The house is vacant and unfurnished.”

Jake shook his head, conveying the message to the others. Priest’s reaction was to slap his brother on the chest and sprint toward the front of the house. Dozer shrugged off Jake’s questioning glance.

The general continued, “Tell me if there is anything else I can do to help.”

“I will. And thank you.”

Mike Lee’s voice came over their comms: “What the hell’s Priest up to? He just stole a motorcycle and tore off down the road.”

Dozer smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry about it, mate.”

The remaining team members stood waiting to hear from Priest. Mike Lee broke the silence. “How long do we wait?”

Dozer checked his watch. “It’s been almost fifteen minutes. Let’s give it another five then head back to the hotel. He can meet us there.”

“The hotel?” Jake glared at Dozer. “Not a chance – I’ve got an appointment with a dead man.”

“Revenge can wait. We need to regroup and come up with a plan, mate. I’ll give Erik the Viking a ring. I reckon he’ll have another contact we can talk to – someone less sleazy than Billy D.”

Jake knew Dozer was right. They couldn’t waste time on the treacherous kingpin while Tik was still in Ugolev’s hands. “So call him – we’re burning time.”

Dozer ignored Jake, straining to hear a distant sound. “Wait for it, wait for it…”

A couple of seconds later, a small motorcycle rounded the corner, sixty yards down the road. As the bike approached, Priest’s face came into view. He parked the bike and approached the group, smiling like a schoolboy after winning a rugby match. Jake saw blood dripping from his left forearm. “Your arm.”

Priest held the limb up to look. “I’ve cut meself worse shaving. Got to admit though, Billy D. was right. The little bloke was pretty good with a blade – better than I expected.”

“If that’s what you call a shaving cut, you must get a lot of stitches,” Lee said, tearing some cloth from the bottom of his shirt. “Let me bind that until we can get back to the hotel.”

Priest paid no attention as Lee applied the makeshift dressing. “Our little pal didn’t want to cooperate at first, but he came round eventually. I caught up with him just before he made it back to the club. Little bugger went straight for his knife. Once I got it off him, I took him to confession. Apparently, Billy D. was into the Russians for over ten grand. They gave him a choice. He could lie to us, and his debt was paid, or he’d lose a leg. He shouldn’t have done it, but they didn’t give him much of a choice, I reckon.”

Jake glared. “I don’t care about his situation, but if something happens to Tik because of his bullshit, Billy D’s going to join Ugolev in a shallow grave. Did you find out where they’re holding her?”

“Sorry, mate – nobody knows. Your Russian’s playing it close to his chest.”

“What’s our next move, Jakey?” Dozer asked. “You still want me to call Erik?”

Before he could answer, Jake’s cell phone began vibrating. He looked for the number, but it didn’t register. It had to be coming from a VOIP service. He put the call on speaker so the others could hear.

“Mr. Riley, did you enjoy your little diversion?”

Jake camouflaged his frustration. “Well played, Ugolev, but my ultimatum stands. If she’s hurt in any way…”

“And as I told you, don’t interfere with my business here. I knew you wouldn’t leave it alone, so I arranged this distraction for you. As you can see, my intelligence network here is superior to yours, so I suggest you now return to your lodgings and wait. I assure you, I will release her when I leave the country.”

Exasperated, Jake disconnected the call without further words. The flames of fury burned in his chest. He knew he’d been outmaneuvered, and in his frustration turned on Lee. “You told me you had this guy locked down. What the hell kind of intelligence officer are you?”

Mike hung his head. There was really nothing he could say in his own defense. He’d been at the top of his game at the CIA for many years, but now he’d let down his closest friend. Dozer draped an arm across Jake’s chest to steer him away from the situation. “Come on, mate, there’s no point lashing out. Let’s head to the hotel and regroup.”

They walked a couple of blocks to where there was some traffic and hailed two tuktuks. This time, Dozer steered Jake into the first taxi, climbing in beside him, while Priest put Lee into the second. Arriving at their hotel, Priest paid the drivers then gave his brother a knowing wink. Dozer slapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Go and grab a quick shower to cool down, mate. It’s hot enough to grill cheese out here. Let’s meet in the hotel restaurant in twenty minutes.”

Normally, Dozer would never presume to instruct the senior Delta Force soldier, but Tik’s abduction had obviously thrown Jake off his usual decisive style. The brothers knew he’d be back to normal after a cool shower and a few minutes on his own. Jake silently complied.

Twenty minutes later, the team gathered in the restaurant. Mike Lee had been first to arrive. He sat quietly sipping ice water, waiting to gauge Jake’s mood. Dozer and Priest broke the ice with some light banter before Mike spoke. “Jake, I’m really sorry, man. You’re right, I should have had the whole thing nailed down. The only excuse I can offer is that the intel I got was so hot, I had to move fast – too fast. I didn’t have time to get normal procedures in place, but I knew what getting Ugolev would mean to you, so I jumped in too soon.”