Without Options (13 page)

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Authors: Trevor Scott

Tags: #Thrillers, #Technological, #Espionage, #Fiction

BOOK: Without Options
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He laughed aloud.

She started the car and pulled out of the BND facility parking lot.

“What just happened back there?” Franz asked.

“Games. We ask for help and they give us just enough to keep us satisfied. I report their level of help and we give them just a little less next time they ask for assistance.”

Franz shook his head. “At that rate the level will be zero soon enough. Did you leave anything behind?”

“A bug? No. The building is shielded against that. Even room to room. You notice how dead the sound was in that conference room?”

“Yes. No echo at all. You recognized the woman, I’m sure.”

“Your eyes said you did too.”

“She was at Anna’s funeral,” Franz revealed. “I thought you might be there.”

“As I said, I just found out about it yesterday.”

“Your Agency didn’t mention it to you? I personally notified them that Jake had been injured. And Jake said they had even checked into some of his old cases to see if the hit on him was somehow related to those.”

She drove around a residential neighborhood slowly and pulled over in front of an old house, turning off the engine. “What do you want from me?”

Franz looked confused. “I want you to be open with me. I just thought you and Jake were still good friends. Why else would you be here now?”

“I was assigned to find him. Nothing more. Any time a former officer is nearly killed, we need to find out why.”

“My point exactly. He was nearly killed more than eight weeks ago.”

She’d thought about that, wondering on the flight why they’d waited so long. She called from the jet to ask that very question. “I was told they’d been looking into it but had not gotten anywhere. Jake was debriefed in his hospital bed by our Vienna office but had no clue who had done it. It was only after these recent attempts that the Agency decided to take a more active role.”

“I see.” He tapped his fingers on his leg.

“Need another cigarette?”

Toni’s phone buzzed and she picked up. She listened carefully, memorizing what was said. She thanked the caller and flipped the phone shut. Now she knew.

“Something to do with the other call you made in the parking lot?” he asked her.

“Yep.” She turned on the car and sped off toward the closest Autobahn. “They just passed through Trier.”

“Jake and the woman? How do you know that?”

She smiled. “German Polizei.”

“How’d you get them to cooperate? Better yet, how did they find them so fast?”

“German Intel wanted me to do their job for them. They let me see the license plate of Alexandra’s car, knowing I would contact the Polizei to track down the auto.”

“And you went along with this? Why?”

She was still trying to figure that out herself. But she needed the Polizei and the BND. “People use each other in this business all the time. It all works out in the end. They didn’t want to make a direct request, since she works for them. But now they can go ahead and call the Polizei and ask who’s been asking. Of course they won’t find out it was me. I used an FBI persona.”

Franz shook his head. “But I’m still confused. How did they track down the license so fast?”

“You honestly don’t know? I mentioned it to Martin Mayer.” She mocked the man’s first name.

“RFID? I thought you were kidding.”

“You see the look on Mayer’s face? I was briefed a year ago on the German system, which has been in place for almost five years now. They’ve been implanting RFID in newly issued license plates. Since plates only last four years, they should have full coverage by now.”

“Why don’t I know about this?”

“It’s one of Germany’s best kept secrets.”

“This is amazing. Big Brother. But your car is from Austria. So they can’t track any car coming from other EU countries.”

“Not yet, with the exception of the Swiss. But they put their RFID in their Autobahn stickers.”

“Brilliant. Not only are they being tracked, but they’re paying for the privilege.”

“I hear Austria is coming next,” she said.

He lowered his head. “As a Polizei officer I can see the benefit. But as a citizen. . .”

She agreed. Big Brother was great when you needed him, but as Jake could find out, not so good if you’re on the run. Toni only hoped nobody else was using the technology. But she guessed it was only a matter of time before the system made it to America. God knew they could sure use it to catch criminals. Yet, a part of her longed for the days when one still had to get up from the sofa to change channels.

14

Berlin, Germany

It had taken Gustav Vogler’s assistant, Andreas Grosskreuz, a few hours to access the proper video with the Turk walking from the train through the main train terminal in Berlin’s central area, and finally dropping off a bag in a locker before scooting down to the U-bahn connection that would bring him to his final destination—the site of his death by strangulation and broken neck.

Grosskreuz had to break open three lockers to find the right one. The one with the backpack that contained an automatic handgun, a Glock 17, along with paperwork that provided Gustav with a direction that he hadn’t expected.

Now, Gustav sat in his office looking over the papers, his assistant in a chair across from him eagerly waiting for his boss’s response to his find.

They’d brought in lunch and ate their curry wurst and fries as each took turns flipping through the paperwork.

“What do you think?” Gustav finally asked his young associate.

Andreas had his laptop computer on the edge of Gustav’s desk, open to a website referenced in the papers. “This is interesting. It looks like our Turkish friend not only printed up the location for this meeting, but also for a meeting of some sort in Innsbruck.”

“Check on that address with Austrian State Polizei,” Gustav ordered.

Andreas started clicking away on his computer. “I can do that quicker through Interpol.” After a few moments he said, “Wow. You’re not going to believe this.”

Gustav turned the laptop toward him and read what his associate had found. “A hit of some sort. Another Turk killed by this American in his apartment.”

“And now a Red Notice out on this American,” Andreas said. “What’s going on?”

Quickly picking up his phone, Gustav punched in a number and waited. “You run the gun through Interpol’s database?” he said briskly into the phone. He listened carefully, his eyes drifting toward Andreas and a smile forming on the edge of his mouth. “Thanks. No, don’t upload that information yet.”

“Ballistics on the Turk’s gun?” Andreas asked.

“Got him.” Gustav slapped his hands together. “The Turk’s gun was used at the Innsbruck apartment. Bullets match.” He ran the events through his mind. The Turk takes a train from Istanbul to Innsbruck. Attempts a hit on an American there. And then takes another train to Berlin. “Pay off,” he said softly.

“Pay off?”

“Yes, my young friend.” Gustav rose from his chair and adjusted his pants on his waist, shifting his gun on his right hip. “He attempts the hit in Innsbruck and then comes here to Berlin to get paid.”

Andreas had a confused expression on his face. “But he didn’t finish the hit.”

“Exactly.” Gustav pointed at his friend. “And that probably got him killed.”

“So this has nothing to do with the other murders?”

Gustav ran his hand over his bristly face. “I don’t know.” What if it did? Regardless, they had a fresh murder with a direction. Whereas, with the other bodies found around the city recently, they had no leads whatsoever.

Andreas clicked onto a location on the internet, which opened a window with a login and password required. He looked at his boss, who’d sat back down behind his desk. “I’ve come to a secure site.”

“Wait a minute.” Gustav shuffled through the paperwork from the Turk’s backpack. He found a small piece of paper that had made no sense until now, which he flipped to Andreas. “Try this.”

It was two series of letters and numbers. Andreas clicked them into the login and password and the site opened. But he could only access one set of information.

“What is it?” Gustav asked as he leaned across the desk toward the laptop.

“Information on this Jake Adams, the American who the Turks tried to hit in Innsbruck.” He read slowly and then turned the computer for this boss to read also.

Reading carefully, the first thing Gustav noticed was the lack of information on the man. Much of what was there was speculation and supposition. Someone had outed the man, so even if it wasn’t true, he was still in a whole lot of trouble. When he was done reading, Gustav said, “My God. This Adams could have been an American spy. Might still be. What have we gotten ourselves into now?”

“If it’s true. But that was going to be my question to you.”

Were all these bodies espionage related? Gustav wondered. There was a couple ways to find out for sure. He had a contact with the BND in Berlin. He could simply ask the question. No. They’d try to insert themselves into his investigation. Maybe cut him off completely. And there was no way of knowing for sure if any of these were related. This last death was interesting. Perhaps not of the same motivation as the others. But still. . .someone was killing people in his city. And that was his problem. His responsibility.

“Where do we go from here?” Andreas asked.

“Someone has to be reporting these men missing. Let’s assume those we found in the Spree were not from Berlin either. They could be from anywhere in the world.”

“They were all European,” Andreas corrected.

“Or American or Russian.”

“That’s true. But not Turks or Middle Eastern or African. We know that much.”

“Or Asian.”

“Right.”

“So, get into the Interpol system,” Gustav said. “Check on missing persons first in European countries.”

“We’ve run that request, sir. The numbers were too high.”

“I know. But this time also search for unsolved murders around the same time as the missing persons.”

“That will take some time,” Andreas complained. “What do you hope to find?”

Gustav wasn’t sure about that. But he had a hunch. “We might have run into a shadow war of some kind.”

“Shadow war?”

“Yeah. What is the first rule of assassination?”

Andreas hunched his shoulders.

“Kill the assassin,” Gustav said.

“I see. So, perhaps I can link various murders in Europe to missing persons, and then overlay that with our dead bodies.”

Gustav smiled. “I knew there was a reason I brought you with me from Munich.”

Andreas closed his laptop, got up, and headed for the door. “I’ll need to work on this at my desk,” he said.

“Keep me informed,” Gustav said. And then he was alone in his office. Finally, a direction. But he wasn’t entirely sure he liked the way this was heading. Even if they could link all of these deaths together, how would that help them? They still had no motive or suspects. But they did have one potential victim. This Jake Adams. He had somehow escaped the hit, though. And now he was being sought by Interpol, Austrian State Polizei, and the German Polizei. So someone hadn’t only sent the Turks after this American, but a second hit team. And this Adams had taken out all of them. He’d have to meet this man.

15

Luxembourg City

Jake and Alexandra got to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg in the early evening the night before, after crossing the German border just west of Trier on the Autobahn. Jake needed clothes, so the two of them did some late shopping in the downtown area along the tourist-laden pedestrian mall. Bags in hand and wearing new clothes, including a thin leather jacket, Jake checked into the Grand Hotel Cravat on Roosevelt, in the center of it all in Luxembourg City. The hotel was close to the main train station, close to tourist attractions, and, more importantly, workers there were used to seeing tourists—which the two of them were attempting to portray. Jake alone had checked into the hotel with his Canadian passport, and the place was large enough to not notice or care when a beautiful and elegant woman like Alexandra stepped through the front door alone and went to the room. They couldn’t have her check in with him, since she only had her personal passport with her and someone could eventually tie the two of them together. Their room was on the ninth floor overlooking the Place de la Constitution. They’d eaten dinner at the hotel restaurant and had a few drinks before retiring to their room early. As beneficial friends with needs, they’d made slow yet passionate love and gone to sleep early. At least she had. Jake had gotten up and stood at the window watching the city lights and the cars passing by on the road below, his thoughts to the days ahead and those of the past few months. It hadn’t been that long ago that he and Anna had stayed in similar places, never really discussing the future, but living for the moment. All that changed in the mountains of Austria two months ago. Having just asked her to marry him that weekend, he had only a short time to contemplate the possibilities of their future together. Maybe that was the problem. It hadn’t given him much time to consider the consequences of settling down. Could he have done so? Now he might never know for sure. There was no doubt that he loved Anna. And money wasn’t a problem. After that Bulgarian case they could both live the rest of their lives without working again—if they’d made that choice. Jake’s problem was deeper. Even though Anna had agreed to marry him, he wasn’t entirely sure he could have gone through with the marriage. With both of their jobs they would have never seen each other. That had killed his ten-year marriage to Toni. They had always been at least one country away. After they both knew their union was over, Jake had tried to add up the actual time they had spent together. About a year, he figured. These thoughts racked his brain on and off all night, until he was finally exhausted enough to crash on the bed next to Alexandra.

Monday morning Jake and Alexandra slept in before going downstairs for a quick bite and vast quantities of thick, strong coffee. Jake had stayed in Luxembourg a number of times over the years, but not at the Grand Hotel Cravat for a few years. And then he’d used a different name and passport. He had ties to Luxembourg, having first opened a bank account there while working for the CIA in Germany. He’d kept the account while assigned to different countries in the CIA, and found no reason to get rid of it after leaving the Agency. The banking laws of Luxembourg, although having changed somewhat recently, were still more favorable than those in Switzerland. More private too.

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