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Authors: Russell Blake

Jet (29 page)

BOOK: Jet
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Jet’s instinct was validated as she rolled past a van and continued along the road at speed. She’d seen two men standing by the dark vehicle, which meant she could expect more where they’d come from. She turned up an alley that led away from the water and parked the bike, and then shrugged off the windbreaker, pulled the dress over her head, and donned her shirt. The weight of the grenade in her pocket was as reassuring as the pistol at the small of her back – on a dark pier she could execute the attorney and vanish far more easily than at the ceremony, especially with her little arsenal. It might not have seemed like much, and she would have gladly traded it at that moment for just one of the RPGs or shoulder-fired missiles in the Ukrainian stash, but in her hands it would still be deadly enough – at least, that was her hope.

Unwilling to leave the boat out of sight for long, she made her way back to the main road and jogged across to the harbor side. She looked out over the water just as the cabin cruiser tied off to the base of a pier where the dark hull of a cargo ship rose from the darkness at the end of the concrete span. Someone above on the wharf unfurled a rope ladder and lowered it to the small boat. Jet wasn’t sure what she’d stumbled across, but the sight of Leo’s white jacket as he climbed the rungs was all the invitation she needed.

She eyed the long industrial warehouse that stretched half the length of the pier and wondered whether she was witnessing a drug deal. She studied the building and saw two men with assault rifles in the gloom, one on either end of the structure, which confirmed her suspicion.

Whatever Leo was doing required armed guards and a remarkable lack of any official security personnel that she could see – which could work to her benefit if she was careful. Jet made her way down the sidewalk until she arrived at a gap between the jetties and climbed down onto the rocks. A frontal approach, given the men by the van and the two guards that she could see, was out of the question, but if she could somehow get to the base of the pier and maneuver up on the far side of the security gates, she’d be inside Leo’s defenses; the guards she could see were focused on threats from outside the perimeter, not inside. What happened from there, she had no idea – other than that it would be very, very bad indeed for the attorney and his entourage.

Chapter 51

Rudolf approached the warehouse with Leo, Levi, and a bodyguard, and motioned to the gunmen stationed there. “Everything in order?” he asked.

The closest gunman nodded. “They’re inside waiting for you, sir.”

“Excellent. Are they armed?”

“Initially they were. But we suggested that they leave their weapons aboard their ship, and that you’d do the same. We searched them when they returned, and they were clean.”

“Very well.”

“They’re halfway down the length of the warehouse with two of our men – in the D section. We told them they’d have to wait to inspect the container until you arrived.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“No. All’s quiet, as you can see.”

Rudolf and Leo walked into the hangar-sized building and strode over to five men standing near a green shipping container – one of dozens beneath a sign emblazoned with a letter D. What slim light there was came from overhead bulbs suspended from the rafters in typical half-finished manner. Three of those waiting had skin the color of dark chocolate, the others the stark white of men who rarely saw the sun.

Leo stepped forward and greeted the Africans, his eyes on a small suitcase chained to the largest man’s wrist. “Gentlemen. Welcome to Russia. Glad you could make it,” he said in English. “Let’s take a look at your shipment, shall we? No point in delaying this – I know you’re eager to be on your way.” He signaled to Rudolf, who nodded and moved to the container.

Rudolf removed a key from his pocket and stooped to unlock a heavy industrial padlock. The clasp opened with a clank that reverberated through the area, and he swung the door open with a flourish.

The Africans switched on their flashlights and moved to the opening, where stacks of wooden crates, all their markings in Russian, lined the interior. Leo tapped a laminated sheet hanging from a hook on the interior of the container. “This is the manifest. It describes the contents. As agreed, everything in your order is there. Satisfaction guaranteed.” He eyed the African with the suitcase. “I’m sorry – I’m Leo, and this is Rudolf,” he said, offering his hand.

“Lucien,” the big man said, shaking Leo’s hand. “We’ll need to inspect the boxes.”

“Of course. Some, all, it doesn’t matter to me. Rudolf, get the gentlemen some pry bars, will you?”

“Certainly.” Rudolf snapped his fingers, and one of the two Russian escorts moved into the shadows and reappeared moments later with a pair of pry bars. He handed them to the sailors and they went to work, systematically opening each crate so Lucien could take a photograph with his iPhone before moving to the next.

After twenty minutes of watching the African seamen check the goods, Leo cleared his throat expectantly. “You can see that it’s all there. Perhaps you can allow my expert to inspect the stones while you’re finishing up? I’d rather not be here all night.”

Levi nodded to Lucien and removed a loupe from his pocket. The African joined him and laid the case on a nearby crate. Levi drew a small battery-powered lamp from his jacket and set it on the crate while Lucien unlocked the handcuff and then the suitcase.

Levi looked to Lucien as he opened the case. Inside were twenty black velvet bags. Levi picked up the nearest one and opened it, and then, under the African’s watchful eye, shook out a few stones and examined them carefully before moving on to the next sack.

When Levi had gone through all the bags, he grunted approval. “They’re as promised.”

Leo smiled. “Very good. Rudolf, let our friend know he can send in his courier to get the stones at his convenience.” Leo eyed Lucien. “I trust that’s acceptable?”

The big man shrugged. “We’re almost done. So far it all looks good.”

“As I said, satisfaction guaranteed.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Jet crept along the underside of the pier, staying out of sight of any guards above as she pressed herself into a channel along the waterline. Thirty meters from the gates, she climbed up the side of the wharf, feeling for fingerholds in the crumbling cement. She pulled herself level with the pier floor and looked over the edge, where four armed guards were watching the approach from the street – none looking behind them, as she’d hoped. Any threat would come from the entry ramp, not the water, at least as far as they were concerned – a fatal mistake if she was successful.

She hoisted herself up and rolled into the shadows of a crane boom. Three empty semi-rigs were parked nearby, along with several utility vehicles – forklifts, a truck-mounted crane, a single-seated container transport, and a tanker truck. Jet darted from vehicle to vehicle, keeping low, sticking to the unlit areas and avoiding the central approach until she reached the partially open steel doors on the street side of the building and peered inside.

The interior was as big as a train station, and she could barely make out the men standing by a group of shipping containers within its depths. Leo’s jacket stood out even in the gloom, though, and she spotted two men with rifles between the attorney and her. Unlike the oblivious gunmen at the gate, these shooters looked alert.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the layout. There were no windows, so it would serve no useful purpose to scale one of the walls and traverse the roof. She debated creeping through the interior and trying to silently take out the gunmen, but the risk that one of them would make enough noise to serve as a warning was too great. As if to confirm her assessment, a radio crackled to life from their position, and she heard the men give a status update with clipped brevity.

As she evaluated her options, she had to concede that the security was too organized, and there were too many unknowns. Trying to get close enough to take out Leo in anything resembling a surgical manner wouldn’t work.

Maybe she could maneuver to the cabin cruiser and lie in wait? That seemed her best bet, and she was preparing to retrace her steps to the base of the wharf when she heard voices behind her. She ducked out of sight as footsteps approached. From behind the nearest vehicle she watched as one of the men from the van marched past her, close enough that she could have reached out and touched him, and continued into the warehouse, where the two sentries were holding their weapons at present arms.

Rudolf’s voice called out to the gunmen, “It’s okay. He’s with us.” The man from the van waved and continued toward the shooters, who frisked him quickly before allowing him to continue to where Leo and his group waited.

The new arrival shook hands with Rudolf and Leo, and Jet edged back to where she had a full view of the proceedings. A large black man emerged from inside the container they were gathered around, held up what looked like a submachine gun in the light, and said something to Leo. Leo replied, and she shrank lower behind the entryway wall.

It would be impossible to kill Leo with so many armed men around. Her lack of intel on the area had led her to the false conclusion that her odds would be better on the wharf, but she realized as she surveyed the layout that she’d miscalculated. She backed away from the entrance until she was in the shadows by the vehicles and considered her next move. Her next choice was the cabin cruiser, and she was edging toward the rear of the tanker truck when she saw the glow of brake lights from near the gate.

A black SUV pulled to a stop and idled near the entry. She eyed the new arrival and shook her head. If there was a vehicle waiting, Leo might not return to the party on the boat. Acid burned in her stomach at the thought of the attorney eluding her, and she was close to scrubbing the operation when her shoulder bumped the oversized front tire of the tanker, giving her pause.

An idea popped into her mind and she mulled it over. It would be risky, though unexpected, certainly beyond dangerous – and the timing alone could be disastrous if she miscalculated any part of it.

That said, it could work.

Assuming she didn’t die trying.

Chapter 52

Leo watched the American inspect the diamonds. The newcomer exchanged observations with Levi as he sorted through the contents of the suitcase – their consensus was that the stones were of high enough quality to easily hit the minimum valuation, and that if there were more available, a regular exchange of weapons for diamonds would be viable.

The Africans had made it through most of the crates and were satisfied with the quality of the arms – a combination of desirable automatic assault rifles, grenades, RPGs, missiles, mines, and other instruments of destruction. They’d documented the contents of the crates, and Lucien was preparing to call Abel and confirm receipt of the arms. He fished a small cell phone from his shirt pocket and smiled to Leo.

“Abel will be pleased. Everything is as agreed,” Lucien said.

“Of course it is. You will find I am as reliable in every transaction.”

“Not everyone we’ve dealt with has been honorable.”

Leo nodded with understanding. “It’s regrettable, but–”

The exchange was interrupted by a crash from the street doors. The metal slabs blew inward and a dark hulk hurtled through the opening and bore down on the container. Leo froze with his mouth open at the apparition, the roar of the big motor deafening as the tanker truck accelerated, and then Rudolf was screaming at the gunmen, who were bringing their rifles to bear on it.

“No – don’t shoot. It’s a fuel truck!” he yelled, and then pulled Leo toward the harbor exit as the rest of the stunned men stood rooted in place. The truck plowed straight at the container, closing the distance with the inevitability of an avalanche as they watched it draw near.

Lucien shook himself from his spell and took off after Leo and Rudolf at a full run. The Russians had almost made it to the door when the fuel truck detonated with the force of a guided missile, sending a fireball down the length of the warehouse and distending the sides of the building. Crates, containers, and chunks of truck shredded through the corrugated metal walls as the blast of flames blew anything proximate aside like the vengeful hand of an angry God.

The container was vaporized by the thousands of gallons of fuel exploding nearly on top of it, and it disappeared in a tidal wave of liquid fire, taking the nearby men with it. At the harbor exit doors, the explosion knocked Leo and Rudolf off their feet, sending them skidding outside on the wet cement as the massive fireball followed them into the night.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Jet threw herself from the truck cabin and rolled behind a steel shipping container as the big vehicle’s forward momentum carried it toward the men. She counted in her head as she pulled herself into a nook and curled into a fetal position, hands over her ears, forearms covering her eyes, windbreaker inverted over her head.

She held her breath as she reached the end of her count, and then the world exploded around her in a massive blast. She resisted the urge to exhale as heat seared the container she was wedged behind, and she narrowly avoided being crushed when it slammed into another beside her. Only once the initial shockwave had passed did she dare peek from her hiding place, to see that the interior of the warehouse near where the truck had detonated was a blaze of molten destruction.

The grenade had taken a second longer than she’d thought, but in the end it had done its job, and the payload of fuel had destroyed the entire area while creating enough new openings in the sides of the building for her to escape through. The heat receded, and she forced herself to her feet. Jet was running for a rent in the nearest wall when she saw a flash of white outside, on the harbor side of the pier. Her eyes locked on Leo’s jacket as someone dragged him toward the cabin cruiser, and then she was engulfed by black smoke belching from the gas truck’s smoldering remains.

Screams from the street entrance reached her as she neared the opening she’d chosen for her escape, and then shots stuttered behind her as the gunmen there fired at the shadowy figure running through the inferno. Bullets ricocheted from the concrete floor around her as she zigzagged to a gap in the warehouse wall, and then she was sailing through the air in a swan dive toward the cold harbor below.

BOOK: Jet
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