Counter-Strike (A Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Novel Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter 4

Central Intelligence Agency,
Pacific Division, Singapore

CIA sub-station chief Darren Crenna was
sitting in his office, the morning sunlight filtering through the window onto
the papers strewn about his desk. He sat back and loosened his black necktie,
his scarred knuckles clutching at the knot as if it were a hangman’s noose. He
scanned the blond-haired woman’s image on his laptop, comparing it to a
hard-copy photo in a personnel file beside his computer. A bead of sweat
started to lose its grip on his temple and he briskly wiped it away while
bolting upright from his seat. He strode to the window and began tapping the
side of his fist against the steel frame.
Jessica Yin has reared her head
—
that
contemptuous bitch. All my efforts at trying to locate her, to kill her three
years ago, and she disappeared like a Goddam phantom. Now she’s back
—
what
the hell is her game?
Yin had served as a field agent on a surveillance
detail for one of Crenna’s deep cover teams inside of Beijing several years
ago. After the op was over, Crenna sent his own off-the-books murder squad to
eliminate any traces back to him. Yin slipped away and hadn’t been seen since.

A few minutes later, the double doors on
his spacious office opened and he heard the footfalls of his top field
operative, Von Harut. At twenty-six, Von was the youngest member to join the
coveted anti-terrorism unit under Crenna’s command three years previously. He’d
been handpicked by Crenna based upon his linguistic abilities, negotiating
skills, and considerable tradecraft. Like a lot of agents in the Asian
division, Von had dual citizenship, with his mother coming from Florida and his
father hailing from Jakarta. Von had been a valuable asset on Crenna’s team and
had outlasted or outlived most of his colleagues that had been recruited with
him. Prior to joining the Malaysian branch, Von had been stationed in Jakarta
where he excelled in his position as customs inspector with the government,
working on breaking up human smuggling rings and as a liaison with Interpol.
He’d become so adept at detecting how smugglers and pirates moved
surreptitiously in and out of countries that he later taught other covert operatives
the nuances of slipping across international waters.

Von’s boyish appearance and striking hazel
eyes gave him the look of a starry-eyed college kid and cloaked the shrewd
killer beneath his exterior.

“We’ve got an interesting dilemma that
requires your special skills,” said Crenna as he grabbed the corner of his
laptop and spun it around towards Von.

Crenna rubbed the back of his neck and
exhaled. “This is Jessica Yin. She was recently spotted getting off a plane in
London where she was connected with the abduction of Professor Robert
Schueller, a scientist who was also one of the agency’s civilian contractors.”

“Isn’t this a job for the UK branch?”

“Yin has ties to espionage cases that have
taken place right here in our own backyard so that makes her a person of
interest. Plus, Schueller’s work is something we can’t have falling into the
wrong hands.”

Von leaned forward, studying the petite
woman’s face. “You need Schueller retrieved along with the woman?” He didn’t
look up at Crenna, continuing to absorb the details of the picture.

“If the professor is still alive, he’s of
value but I need to find out what the woman knows and if she’s extracted any
intel on Schueller’s work.” Crenna arched his back and shot a glaring look at
Von. “But be certain that she has the intel first. If the data has been passed
on then you’re going on a hunting trip and she’s the first one to have her head
mounted on my wall.”

Crenna walked back from the window and sat
down in his swivel chair. He rested his elbows on the desk and interlaced his
fingers. “This needs to be handled quietly,” he said. “And I mean not a whisper
in the wind about this. You need to have a degree of separation from whatever
unfolds.”

Crenna let out a muffled sigh as he sat on
the edge of the desk. “Gather up your usual team and head over to Europe
tonight. I’ve tracked her to Austria. Await further orders on her exact
location.”

***

A few minutes after Von left, Crenna
received a video summons from the deputy director in Langley, Virginia. He sat
back in his chair, taking a moment to dab the sweat from his forehead and
straighten his tie. Then he initiated the secure link and waited for Natalie
Quint to appear. Quint had been his superior for the past four years and he
resented every meeting with her.
Fucking minority hire to fill what should’ve
been a man’s position
—
a man like me who’s shoveled shit on four
continents during the past thirty years.

He eked out a pleasant expression as the granite-faced
Quint came online. “Deputy Director, how may I be of service today?”

“I just came from a briefing with a few of
my advisors about a high-value target being flagged by our facial recognition
software. Apparently the individual was spotted in Europe.”

Europe? Shit, they’ve pinpointed Yin too?
His fingers
clutched a pen, nearly snapping it in half. “I’m not sure how this involves my resources
in Malaysia, Deputy Director.”

“The agent was one of yours—you’re listed
as the primary case officer on this one from the time the asset was recruited
until the time he disappeared on assignment.”

Crenna’s eyes narrowed and his heart felt
like it was going to punch through his ribs. “
He?
Who is this we’re
talking about?” He was relieved that there had been no mention of Jessica Yin
but now concerned about the mystery of who Quint was speaking about.

Quint tapped a button on her laptop,
removing her face from the screen and replacing it with the black-and-white
profile of a thirty-something agent listed as Kyle Redstrom. Crenna gasped,
covering his mouth and pretending he had coughed, then he leaned forward,
nearly pressing his face into the monitor to study the image.
Fuck me
—
he
can’t be alive, not after what he went through in that prison. It can’t be him.
He took a deep breath and swallowed hard.
Yin and Redstrom both appear
in one day. They have to be in league. If either of them reveals my involvement
in the cover-up, I’m finished.
Crenna felt bile pushing up through his
esophagus and gripped the armrests on his chair. The image was replaced by
Quint’s face.

“Redstrom was listed as one of your best
field agents. It was thought he had defected over to the Chinese, although it
was never proven, but then that’s what you wrote in the report so you know all that.”

Crenna realized his eyes were darting
around his office and he quickly gathered his thoughts, refocusing on the
laptop screen. He felt like the room temperature had spiked thirty degrees.
“That’s right. He made off with some classified documents on bioweapons
research, though my investigative team at the time never turned anything up on
him. I thought he went dark or was dead.”

“You need to locate him and bring him in.
He’ll trust you.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll make him priority number
one.”

When the meeting ended, he closed his
laptop and slumped back in his chair, his shoulders feeling like there was a
giant hand crushing him from above. He rolled up his sleeves and tried to choke
down a breath. “Redstrom, alive,” he muttered, attempting to convince himself
of what he’d heard and feeling the threads of his world starting to unravel.

Chapter 5

Mitch drove his rented motorcycle through
the bustling streets of Tel Aviv en route to Dev’s family house, on the upper
east side. Normally, he used the extensive railway system to get around the
city or relied on the occasional ride from his friends at work. With ten days
until his next mantracking course, he’d decided to see the countryside and
snatch Dev away from work as often as possible. At the bequest of Dev’s mother,
Eva, he had been invited to their house for dinner and to share in stories
about his old mentor, Anatoly, whose presence was still strongly felt. Mitch
had been to the house briefly on one other occasion after his arrival. This
time his visit would be more than social as he needed her help in tracking down
some of the mystery surrounding the disappearance of an old friend. Heavy lines
of tension hung over his face and he worried about what Bob Schueller might
have inadvertently stumbled into with his line of work, if that’s what his
disappearance was all about.

Mitch sped past a row of restaurants and
street vendors, many of which were sidewalk sushi shops. Tel Aviv held the
third highest concentration of sushi shops in the world which was another thing
Mitch loved about the city. The fine food, the vigilant warrior mindset of the
culture, and the fact that there was an intriguing raven-haired woman in the
midst of it all made him forget about his old life in Arizona. Now if he could
just get Dev to unwind a bit this whole venture abroad might actually work out.
It seemed like her phone never stopped ringing and there was always some fire
to put out at work. With Anatoly’s death, his organization had suffered
financially and the morale amongst staff had plummeted. Several key senior
members had resigned at the thought of the young Devorah Leitner taking over
the reins and some longstanding international corporations had pulled up
funding once reshuffling of Gideon’s infrastructure began. Mitch was
understanding of Dev’s predicament and was willing to be patient until things
settled down. At least that’s what he told himself in the beginning.

Now, with some time off, he relished the
thought of spending a few days with her. After the ordeal they had been through
in Arizona earlier in the fall, he had felt a bond that he’d never known with a
woman before. He was willing to go the distance but didn’t know how things were
going to pan out with his contracting position with the Israeli military and
with Dev’s insane work hours. If nothing else, he’d finish out his two-month
contract with the military and head back to Arizona just in time for the cattle
round-up at his friend’s ranch.

Thirty minutes later, he maneuvered
through several neighborhoods with eclectic architecture and up a winding road
that led to the Leitner household. The small two-story home was framed by cedar
trees which accentuated the faded white walls of the old structure. He removed
his helmet and slipped it onto the leather seat then removed a carefully
wrapped bouquet of flowers from a rear compartment. Walking up the inclined
driveway past a manicured row of elderberry bushes, he could hear Eva and Dev in
a heated discussion in the kitchen at the rear.

“What a surprise—Dev’s discussing work,”
he mumbled as he strode up, clearing his throat as he approached the back door
to announce his arrival.

Eva flung the dish towel in her hand down
on the counter and replaced her stolid expression with a warm smile. “Ah, my
dear Mitch. Please come in,” she said, holding open the screen door and then
greeting him with a hug. “You are always so punctual.” She looked with delight
at the flowers and then pulled them close to her nose, inhaling the fragrance.
“And what a sweet boy.” She looked back at Dev who was busy stirring sauce in a
stovetop pan. “He’s something, isn’t he?” She winked at her daughter while
Mitch walked into the kitchen. Dev glanced at Mitch’s face, which he tried to
drain of tension by emitting a smile.

Eva was the boisterous one in the family
who made up for her daughter’s introverted nature. She could hold a one-sided
conversation the entire evening if allowed to and Mitch often wondered how Dev
was related to such a chatty creature. Still, her effervescent personality was
infectious and she always made him feel at ease.

“What, no flowers for me?” said Dev, who
looked up from her culinary duties.

Mitch smirked. “Actually, I brought a new
folding knife I just got and thought you might find the sight of that more
exciting.”

“Now that’s more like it—though you can
bring me flowers sometime too.”

“You know my daughter well,” chimed in Eva,
who was setting plates on the round oaken table.

He suspected Eva was probably already
planning out wedding invitations for the two of them. She had secretly confided
in him one night at dinner, while Dev was in the kitchen, that her daughter was
clearly excited to have Mitch in Israel. He saw it too in Dev’s eyes on rare
occasions when her work commitments melted away.

Dev tilted her head and gave a smug grin.
“So, you’re not going to storm off from this meal too and hide in the hills
like you did the last time we met, are you?”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that. Just a little
occupational mishap I probably should’ve informed you about. Honestly, I didn’t
think my students would rush me during dinner in a crowded street.”

“Uh-huh, sure you didn’t. I think you saw
the price of our meal and made your getaway.”

“Ouch. I can be cheap but not when it
comes to dining with a lady.”

Once the meal was ready, everyone moved
into the dining room. The plum-orange sun was hanging on the cusp of the city
skyline in the distance, its rays piercing the bay windows on either side of
the oak table. The braised lamb and garden-fresh asparagus along with the side dish
of pine nuts were eagerly consumed in between small talk about Mitch’s
mantracking work and Eva’s discussion of visits with her extended family around
Israel.

After dinner, Dev and Mitch retreated to
the front patio, enjoying some baklava and coffee which Mitch was certain had a
hint of rum in it despite the older woman’s wistful denial. Eva insisted on staying
in the kitchen to clean up, though she poked her head in often enough to make
Mitch wonder just how much dish-washing she was doing.

When he’d finished his last forkful of the
sticky treat, Mitch looked over at Dev, whose ebony hair was haloed by the
setting sun. He found his words stuck in his mouth as he spoke, trying to take
in her lovely features but feeling apprehensive instead.

“Look, I know you are probably swamped
with a thousand work issues right now but I could use your help with something—with
tracking a person down.”

“I thought that was your specialty,” she
said, nodding towards his boots.

“Not on this one. I’m without the
resources I had when I worked with the FBI so any assistance would be appreciated.
I’d be willing to hire Gideon even, if that helps, though I might have to take
out a loan.”

“Who’s the subject?”

“Robert Schueller. Bob was a friend of
mine from when I was in the army. He was a professor of physiology at the army’s
cold-weather testing lab in Natick, Maine. When I was stationed there, he was
doing research on survival under extreme conditions and needed test subjects. My
Special Forces team was selected to undergo the study. Bob and I shared a common
interest in survival—me with what happens in the wilds when a person is reduced
to having only their bare hands and Bob with the physiological side of how the
human machine endures environmental stressors. We kinda fed off each other’s
enthusiasm and became fast friends. He and his family welcomed me in as one of their
own. He’s been working as a professor in microbiology at Cornell University for
many years since leaving the military but his wife confided in me that he still
has some dealings with the DOD on occasion, though that’s about all she knew.”

“Have you spoken with him lately?”

“The last time I saw him was four months
ago at his daughter’s wedding in Boston.”

“So was he abducted or did he voluntarily
drop off the radar—mistress for instance, or another family somewhere. I have
to ask, Mitch. In my business such things happen all the time.”

“Not Bob—his only mistress is his work.” Mitch
balled his fist and swallowed hard. “Margo, his wife—I just spoke with her a
few hours ago. She said he was last seen disembarking a plane at Heathrow
Airport. She’s gone through the police already but all they said is he was seen
leaving with a young woman once he got off the plane.” He paused and ran a hand
through his hair. “They think this is the same woman who hacked up a police
officer in the parking garage.”

Dev rested her hand on his forearm. “I’m
so sorry, Mitch. I could tell there was something wrong when you arrived.”

Mitch just nodded his chin, containing the
fury and anguish that was brewing inside him.

“Research—what was Schueller involved
with?” said Dev.

“Last I recall from his geek-speak over a
beer was that he was studying the effects of neurotoxins on the body. He did
his graduate work in viral pathogens in the nineties. DOD took an interest in all
such research after the ricin terrorist attacks in Japan, employing guys like
Bob to provide data on other potential threats. I don’t know much beyond that.
He’s ventured into microbiology in recent years which is what he’s been
researching at Cornell.”

“So, your government must be spearheading
a search effort if one of their own went missing under mysterious
circumstances.”

“You’d think. I imagine some wheels must
be turning but who knows to what extent. You know that if things get messy for
an agency, deniability of your assets rises to the forefront. Plus, I don’t
even know if this is connected with his research or if he was just kidnapped to
extort money from his family, though that seems unlikely given no contact has
been made with his wife.” Mitch leaned forward in his chair, interlacing his
fingers. “The thing is, Margo said he was heading to London to present his
research on biopathology at a closed-door government think-tank, so I’m
guessing there has to be a connection.”

“Was anything of his stolen?”

“Officially, no, but who the hell knows
for sure. That’s why I can use some help on this if it’s not going to be
putting you in over your head with everything else you’ve got going on.”

Dev put her jade-green coffee cup on the
glass table between them. “I’ll get my people right on it—I’ll tell the board,
if they ask at all, that I’ve taken on a promising new client.” She reached
over and brushed her fingers over the top of his weathered hand. Dev looked up
at him and he could see the warmth in her eyes as the noise from the city below
disappeared.

He folded his arms over his chest, his
shirt sleeve sliding up slightly to reveal an old, jagged scar on his left forearm.
He noticed Dev staring at and shook his arm to lower the sleeve.

“That’s one you haven’t told me about,”
Dev said with her eyebrows raised.

“Some things aren’t worth talking about.”
His face tightened at his words. “Will you call me when you have something—anything
on Bob or this mystery woman?”

Dev could tell by the crooked shape of the
scar that it wasn’t caused by a knife or shrapnel from an explosion but was most
likely from a bullet round that grazed his skin. She’d seen the type before and
knew that such wounds went beyond the flesh. She nodded in response to his
query then raised her empty mug, changing the subject.

“We can stay here and try to imbibe more
of my mother’s water-drowned coffee or head downtown for drinks, if you’d
like.” She nudged his shoulder. “I’ll even buy the first round, cowboy.”

He grinned slightly. “That’s mighty fine
of you, miss, but that’d just be plain wrong to let a lady get drunk on her own
tab.”

“Who said anything about getting hammered?
Besides, I can probably outdrink you.”

“Really—you think so? Then this game is
on.”