Assassin (Assassin Series Book 1) Page 4

  Nancy sighed sadly. “Goodnight.” Maybe she was worrying needlessly, but somehow the feeling of uneasiness just wouldn’t go away. She walked over to her car in the corner of the garage, unlocked the door, climbed in and turned on the ignition as the lights came on. She put the car in gear and drove slowly up the ramp, out of the parking garage and onto the city street. As she pulled away, the lights came on in a black SUV parked in the corner of the garage and the occupant discreetly followed Nancy up the ramp and into the city traffic.

  Nancy, still deep in thought, drove along in the busy rush hour traffic towards the freeway to the suburbs, totally unaware that she was being followed. Her mind was still focused on the turmoil of the day. What did it mean that Jake had been ordered to ‘make the hit’? The only time she had ever heard such terminology had been in the occasional gangster or spy movies. Did this mean that Jake wasn’t what he appeared to be? Was he really some sort of killer for the CIA, and could it be that the ‘clients’ he had told her about, were in fact not really clients but intended targets of something much more sinister?

  She was still confused as she reflected that the calmness and the happiness that they had both enjoyed since Jake’s return from Colombia, had been the most special period of their whole marriage. She had never seen any weapons at the house and when he had been on his business trips, he had always called her regularly and he never came back with any scratches or wounds, indicative that he had been involved in any foul play. Still deep in thought, she looked blankly ahead as she merged into the fast-moving traffic heading downhill away from the city. “Where are you, Jake?” she whispered.

  In the black SUV following her, two cars behind, an albino CIA agent Benny Kovacs, slim, in his 50’s, with cruel, lifeless eyes, a member of the same CIA ‘black-ops’ group that Jake worked for, was carefully watching Nancy’s car ahead. His instructions from Jennings had been quite clear, to make it look like an accident! Tragically, that was exactly what he was about to do.

  “No time like the present.” he mumbled to himself before reaching into the glove compartment and removing a hand held detonator. He pointed it towards Nancy’s car, an evil smile on his face before he pressed the button. “Sayonara, bitch!” On the inside tire wall on the driver’s side rear wheel of Nancy’s car, the light suddenly came on in the explosive device attached to indicate it was about to blow.

  In Nancy’s car ahead, a sudden ‘popping’ noise was heard and she was torn from her thoughts as the car lurched wildly and the rear tire blew out. The car suddenly started to swerve out of control and smashed into the car driving at high speed alongside her. On the orderly freeway, the scene rapidly changed to one of panic and mayhem.

  In Nancy’s car, she screamed in fear. “Oh, my God!” she struggled to gain control, but the car somersaulted and rolled over repeatedly as the fast-moving traffic continued along the freeway, brakes screaming, the surrounding traffic now trying desperately to slow down or stop to avoid the chaos. In an instant, Nancy’s car was upside down and badly damaged as smoke and fluids poured from the wreck. Other drivers got out of their cars and rushed over to check on her. One young gentleman climbed underneath Nancy’s overturned car and screamed back at the people behind him. “Jesus! Someone call an ambulance!”

  The black SUV that Benny was driving, had managed to scrape past the mayhem as he drove along looking for the nearest exit. He was already dialling a number on his cell, that cold, impersonal look in his eyes.

  Jennings answered. “Yes?”

  Benny replied. “It’s done!”

  Jennings sounded satisfied “Good, get back here,”

  The SUV headed on inconspicuously into the rush hour traffic, back towards the city.

  * * *

  Jennings was sitting at his desk when the phone rang. He answered and listened to the ranting of Jamal on the other end of the line. He interrupted. “Hang on a second, say that again, Jamal?”

  Jamal sounded devastated. “My father is dead, murdered at the convention center!”

  Jennings pumped his hand in the air in satisfaction, an instant sanctimonious tone in his voice. “Oh, my God, Jamal, I am so sorry. What the hell happened?”

  Jamal sounded venomous. “We are still checking, but a single assassin killed him in the men’s room at the convention center. He tried to make it look like a heart attack, but there was a needle mark on my father’s throat!”

  Jennings was still sympathetic. “Who the hell would want to kill, Mahmoud? Did they catch the guy?”

  Jamal was still very angry. “No, he got away,”

  Jennings heaved a sigh of relief as Jamal continued, “But we are checking to try and get some identification before we go after him and cut his heart out!”

  Jennings smiled, already planting the first seeds of doubt in case things went badly. “Maybe it was an independent contractor. Did your father have any recent problems, or threats, you know, any people really pissed off at him?”

  Jamal sounded sure. “I do not think so.”

  Jennings continued with the condolences. “Well, Jamal, on behalf of the US Government, I’d like to extend our sincerest sympathy and if there’s anything we can do to help, just let me know?”

  Jamal calmed down a little. “Thanks, Ted. If we get a photo of this infidel, perhaps you could help us check it out?”

  Jennings heaved a sigh of relief. “No problem, my friend,” he paused. “And our little transaction?”

  “It will continue as planned!”

  Jennings was pleased. “Great! I’ll let the appropriate people know. Goodbye, Jamal.”

  “Goodbye.” Jamal rang off and Jennings punched the air. “Yes!” he prided himself that he had read Jamal correctly concerning his conflicting affection for his father and his strong Muslim anti-western philosophy. He surmised that Jamal would no doubt grieve for his father, but his naked hatred of somebody taking what belonged to him, in this case the life of his father, would no doubt drive him to hunt down Jake Harrigan like a dog. All Jennings had to do, was steer the unsuspecting Jake in Jamal’s direction and await the inevitable outcome.

  As for the illegal arms shipment, with Harrigan safely out of the way, Jamal and his terrorist friends could blow each other to hell as far as he was concerned, as long as the $20 million was sitting safely in the offshore accounts of his consortium. The rest was of little consequence. He picked up his phone and dialled a number. His boss, Senior Agent Andrew Davidson, stocky, in his 50’s, answered. “Yes?”

  “It’s done!” Jennings began. “Jamal’s really pissed, but the good news is that he’s ready to go on with the deal!”

  Davidson smiled. “And Harrigan?”

  “He got away, thank God! No details yet, but Jamal wants us to help find him if he gets an ID.”

  Davidson thought for a moment. “Well, in that case, we just sit and wait.”

  “Exactly!” Jennings smiled as he clicked the phone off.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jake was sound asleep in the Emirates jet, when the pilot announced that they would be landing in Washington, Dulles in about 30 minutes. He sat up and looked out of the window at the familiar landscape below, thankful to be where he was after the ordeal in Dubai.

  His one saving grace had been that he had not been recognized at the scene of the kill and since he had taken all his documents with him, he had been able to head straight for the airport.

  True to his exit training, there was nothing left to incriminate him at the hotel and with his credit card under a false name on file, they would simply charge the card, dump his few articles of clothing left behind and move swiftly on to the next guest in that room. Such was life in the hotel business.

  That was the easy part. It was the Dubai Police, in their Ferraris, who had given him nightmares on the way to the airport. After the first police car had crashed, it had been quickly followed by three more, no doubt put on his tail by the first car before it crashed, and that was where the fun began.

  A
s Jake had caught his breath after losing the first police car that had been chasing him, stark reality suddenly returned when the three additional Ferraris had suddenly appeared on his tail. Bullets were hitting and ricocheting off the car, when the cops had realized that he had no intention of stopping.

  He had been some distance away from the downtown area, in the less affluent suburbs, but the traffic was still crazy. He had checked the street map from his pocket to get his bearings. Luckily, the little taxi had served him well, but he had realized that he would have to dump the taxi before he got to the airport, because if the cops had chased him into the airport complex, the whole airport security network would have closed in on him and that was the one thing he didn’t need.

  He could just see the veins standing out on Jennings’ neck, if he had seen a life and death chase of a CIA Agent through Dubai Airport on CNN. His instructions, to make it look like an accident, were now a distant dream.

  He had roared around another corner and looked at the gas gauge in the taxi to see that it was really low and he was certain that it would not last much longer at the pace he had been driving. He had taken a quick left turn that he thought would be a good idea, only to look in horror as he had headed down a broad flight of steps, with people scattering out of his path. The steps had caused a vibration in his brain that was still aching.

  At the bottom of the steps, he had swerved but still managed to flatten a street vendor’s cart as he headed left onto the road below. The suspensions on the police Ferraris were impressive as they had also seemed to travel down the steps behind him with no trouble. People on the street had looked on in awe as the high speed chase went past.

  He had to give credit to the little taxi, it was extremely roadworthy, but he could see that he was getting into more congested streets and it was only a matter of time before he would hit a traffic jam and have to leg it. It was as if fate had been reading his mind, because when he had turned the next corner, there had been an accident with more cops on the scene, just waiting to join the chase if needed.

  Across the street, just up from the accident, there had been a row of rather sleazy-looking restaurants and bars and Jake had decided to head in that direction. He remembered stopping the taxi fast, but trying not to bring attention to himself, getting out and scurrying across towards the first restaurant. Behind him, the police had still kept him in sight.

  Seconds later, he had heard the screech of tires as the three Ferraris crunched to a halt as the occupants had spotted him getting away. By then, he was running at full speed, towards the nearest restaurant. He had rushed in through the front door, almost knocking a couple over who were coming out before he had carried on through the reception area, past the open-mouthed, turbaned Maître ‘D” before heading towards the kitchens in the rear. The police had come crashing in after him, screaming in Arabic and waving at the people in the restaurant to stand clear.

  After rushing through the steamy kitchen, past the kitchen assistants, their faces in shock, knocking over trays of food, he had managed to bust out into the back alleyway. The police had still doggedly pursued him and more bullets spattered off the dumpster he had just passed. He remembered looking ahead and deciding to rush inside what had looked like the back door of a sleazy bar.

  It had turned out to be even sleazier than he had expected and the shady clientele were smoking a lot more than just cigarettes when Jake had rushed through. They had almost choked on their pipes when the cops also came past in quick succession, but Jake was long gone.

  He had surged out of another exit and into an alley where he could see that he was gaining ground on the cops and it appeared that at least half of them were not in the same shape that he was. Ahead, he had approached the main street again, up the road from the previous road accident and the traffic seemed to be running better. Now that the cops were away from their cars, this had evened the playing field and after another sprint round the next corner, Jake had been able to quickly grab another taxi before the cops had even staggered to the corner.

  He had flashed money and breathlessly screamed ‘Airport’ to the driver and that was all the man had needed to get him motivated before they zoomed off, down the road and out of sight.

  Behind him, the exhausted police had staggered to the corner, scratching their heads to see the street remarkably quiet with no signs of Jake ahead. The senior officer had already grabbed his phone, screaming instructions in Arabic, as the others were still bent over, catching their breath.

  In the back seat of the taxi, Jake had busily wiped the sweat off his face and neck and he emptied his pockets to sort out all his papers for when he reached the airport. He had realized that he was completely without luggage, a red flag when trying to board an international flight and if there was one thing he didn’t need that day, it was a red flag.

  After paying the taxi, he had gone straight to the airport shops, bought a travel tote, a pair of cheap slacks, a couple of tee shirts, under shorts and some sundry items to include in his carry-on baggage. He had gone into the men’s room, changed into the new slacks and a tee shirt, scrunched up the rest, tore off all the labels and then headed quickly to the Emirates ticket counter.

  Luckily, his documents were in order and he had managed to get the last seat on the next A380 into Washington. Even so, as he was sitting on the aircraft, waiting to take off, his heart rate returning to normal, he had recalled seeing the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles, wondering if it may be him that they were looking for. When he considered that the police did not get a close enough look at him for a full ID, it was then that he had finally calmed down.

  Once in the air, he had been able to relax, but only managed to get some troubled sleep, due to his ever-present conscience asking him, “Why am I doing this and how did things get this crazy?”

  After he de-planed and stood in the immigration line, waiting to clear US Customs, he flicked on his cell phone to see that he had a long list of messages and the second he was in the main terminal, he called Jennings, who answered on the first ring. “Jennings?”

  Jake was curious. “Ted, this is Jake, what’s goin’ on, I’ve got a shit load of messages to call you?”

  Jennings was ready with his answer, still using his sanctimonious voice. “Jake, thank God you’re back. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news!”

  Jake was in shock. “What kind of bad news?”

  “It’s Nancy. She’s had a terrible accident!”

  Jake’s face turned ashen. “Oh, no! Not Nancy!”

  Jennings was still silky smooth. “You’d better get over to City General fast.”

  Jake was already running through the terminal towards the taxi stand. “I’m on my way, what the hell happened?”

  Jennings was suitably vague, “It was a freeway accident. Jake, I’m so sorry, get a move on, okay?”

  Jake rushed out onto the sidewalk and jumped into the first taxi available, urging the driver to drive as fast as possible. As the taxi sped across town, Jake was in total shock. Nancy was his whole life and he couldn’t even begin to think what he would do if he lost her. He was furious with whoever had caused the accident, because he knew that of all things, Nancy was a very safe driver. If she had seen his driving over the past 24 hours, she would have had a coronary!

  He leaned forward, patting the driver on the shoulder. “Can’t you go any faster?”

  The driver, a tough-looking African/American, was totally unsympathetic. “Hey, buddy, if you don’t like my drivin’, there’s plenty of other cabs!” Jake sat back, his mind in turmoil. The taxi finally crunched to a stop, Jake paid the driver, minus any tip, and rushed inside.

  * * *

  The emergency room at City General was having a typical day, packed to the doors with shooting, stabbing and domestic violence victims, as well as the genuinely sick people, all praying to get the treatment that they needed.

  Jake came busting in and charged up to the Duty Nurse. He was breathless, white as a ghost.
“Where’s Nancy Harrigan, I’m her husband?” he gasped.

  The buxom, African/American nurse gave him a steely look. “Good for you, has she been admitted?”

  Jake was anxious. “That’s what I’m asking you? She was in a bad car accident!”

  The nurse looked at her sheet and without even looking up, she pointed down the corridor. “Last cubicle on the left.”

  Jake rushed off down the corridor. He stopped at the last cubicle, took a deep breath, moved the curtains and went inside. A nurse was at Nancy’s bedside and she looked up when he entered. “Mr. Harrigan?”

  Jake nodded numbly, he couldn’t take his eyes off Nancy lying in the bed. The nurse motioned him over and prepared to leave. “Make it quick, Mr. Harrigan!”

  Jake nodded and walked to the side of the bed, looking at Nancy with tears in his eyes. She was very badly injured, scarred and bruised. He grabbed the nurse’s arm before she left and asked. “Is there anything that can be done?”

  She looked at him tenderly and shook her head sadly. She left and Jake moved closer to Nancy.

  Out in the corridor, as the nurse walked away, she was passed by Benny, who was wearing a hoodie. He had also checked to see which cubicle Nancy was in.

  He clicked on his phone, dialled and a voice answered. “Yes?”

  Benny spoke in whispers. “He’s at City General.”

  Jennings replied. “Watch what happens.”

  “Will do.” Benny leaned forward, trying to hear what was being said at Nancy’s bedside. He peered through a crack in the curtains.

  Jake wiped the tears from his eyes, leaned closer to Nancy and took her hand gently, desperately trying to absorb the seriousness of the situation. Jake’s mind was still refusing to contemplate the horrendous finality that could be only seconds away. It was as if his whole life since he met Nancy, was going past in a lightning kaleidoscope of events, some funny, some sad, but most of all those tender, loving moments they had both shared.