Interception, p.11
Interception, page 11
He glanced around for a couple of minutes as was his habit, assessing and reassessing the faces of the passengers sitting or walking around. He knew there was not much of a reason to suspect any one of them was following him or working for the MSS, but it was a deep-seated habit. It was ingrained in him from the days he was a recruit at The Plant, CIS’s training facility. They taught him to expect danger lurking around every corner, even from the closest of companions. If it breathes, it can betray you, was one of the instructors’ mottos. One could call it absolute paranoia, but that feeling had saved Javin’s life on more than one occasion.
That’s why he was ready when he noticed two tall, muscular Asian men in civilian clothing approaching him. A menacing glare was stamped across their faces and, by the way their jackets were hanging over their bulging waistbands, they were carrying weapons.
Chapter Eighteen
Beijing Capital International Airport
Beijing, China
Javin jumped to his feet and began to back away slowly from the advancing gunmen. He doubted they would use their weapons in the crowded terminal. But he could never be certain of what to expect, especially after everything that had taken place over the last couple of days. If these men were not the police or airport security, they might not hesitate to open fire. How did they get those weapons past security?
He had already identified the nearest exit, which led to a corridor that opened into an area reserved for airport and airline staff only. However, there were no locks or magnetic card readers on the door. Javin had noticed three employees who had accessed the secure area by simply pushing the door.
The gunmen seemed to realize his intentions. They split up, to cover more ground and try to flank Javin on both sides.
He hurried his pace, but did not run, not wanting to draw attention to himself or to create panic among the waiting travelers. He was now in an open area, a few steps away from the door. Two Air China employees were working at their computer station. Javin began to sidestep them as he glanced over his shoulder.
That’s when he saw the nearest gunman, about twenty feet behind him, had pulled out a yellow-and-black gun and was aiming it at Javin.
He knew what it was.
A Taser.
He jumped to the side and rolled onto the ground, going for the door.
The gunman had anticipated his move and pulled the trigger.
The two spear-shaped probes pierced Javin’s jacket and the skin on his back, a couple of inches under his right shoulder blade. It was center mass, a hit delivered by a well-trained hand. He twitched in excruciating pain as the Taser delivered a powerful electrical jolt into his body. His muscles seized up, and Javin felt a burning sensation zip throughout his stiffened body. He knew from training that the voltage would continue to send shockwaves for a few more seconds. And he also knew that he was not getting away from the gunmen.
He tried to roll onto his side, but powerful hands twisted his right arm behind his back.
Javin looked at the face staring at him. It was the gunman who had fired the Taser. He winked at Javin and said in a low voice, “You should not have run.”
Javin tried to form words, but he could not control his lips. The pain was crushing his lungs and upper ribs.
The second gunman arrived, leaned over Javin, and shouted, “Don’t resist. Make no moves.”
Javin began to shake his head. He was not making any moves. He could not even speak.
“I told you not to resist,” the gunman shouted again.
He raised his fist and brought it down hard against Javin’s head.
Everything went black.
* * *
Javin first opened his right eye, slowly and painfully, because it felt as if it weighed a ton. His vision was blurry, and opening the left eye didn’t help. He was staring at the ceiling of a semi-dark room. He realized he was lying on a bed. No, cuffed to a bed, as he tried to sit up and a pair of handcuffs rattled against the metal rail of the bed. What is this place? Looks like a hospital. How long was I out of it? Javin glanced again at the handcuffs around his left wrist. His watch was gone.
He racked his brain and remembered the Taser and the blow to his head. It felt like it had just happened, but he knew it could have been hours since the event took place. He looked through the glass door, but the area outside was dark. He sat up on his bed, turning his arm, careful not to chafe the skin of his wrist. The room was sparsely furnished, with a couple of closets, a small table, and two chairs. Javin shook his head. This is not a hospital; it’s an interrogation room. A glass window was on the side. Javin nodded. Yes, a one-way mirror hiding the observation room on the other side.
He gestured toward the mirror as if he was inviting someone to come inside the room, then said, “Hey, I know you’re there. Can we get on with this?”
There was no immediate answer, so Javin stepped off his bed and dragged it along with him as he drew near the mirror. He slammed his fist against it and shouted, “Hello, I’ve got stuff to do, so—”
“Mr. Pierce, always an impatient man,” the firm voice of a man interrupted him.
Javin turned around and looked at the stone-faced man who had just entered the room. He was perhaps in his early thirties, a few inches shorter than Javin—who stood five-foot-ten—but what he lacked in height, he made up for in his bulging muscles, quite impressive through his tight white-and-blue checkered shirt. For good measure, he also carried a pistol in a shoulder holster. The man was Asian, with gel-backed spiky hair that was cut short to the sides and longer at the top, and dyed platinum blond. He took a few steps closer to Javin, then pulled out his pistol and cocked it. He held it sideways and gestured with it to Javin. “Take a seat.”
“Who are you, and what do you want?”
“In a moment, Mr. Pierce; now, do as you’re told.” He motioned with his pistol to the bed.
Javin nodded and followed the order. “Satisfied?”
“No, not until you tell me why you’re going to Mongolia.”
Javin gave the man a defiant glance. “None of your business.”
“Oh, come on, Pierce. Enough with the tough-guy attitude. You’re in a bad situation, and if you make any moves, you’ll be dead.” He waved his pistol and kept it trained at Javin’s head.
“You know you’re not going to shoot me, so cut it out. Tell me what you really want.”
“Mongolia. What’s there?”
“You must not have heard me the first time.”
The Chinese man shook his head. “You and I have just met, so you don’t know this about me, but I hate waste. Any kind of waste, but especially when people waste my time.” He took a couple of steps toward Javin. “And Pierce, you’re wasting my time.”
The man drew closer to the glass and knocked on it with the muzzle of his pistol.
In a matter of seconds, two men rushed inside the room. The gunmen who had assaulted him at the terminal.
Javin peered at the one who had tasered him. “Uncuff me—we have some unfinished business.”
The man grinned. “We’ll finish the business here.”
He marched toward Javin, but walked behind him and around the bed.
Javin went for the man with his right fist, but he was just a couple of inches beyond his reach. “Come on this side, you cow—”
The man struck Javin on the side of his head. The agent leaned to the right and almost toppled off the bed. He tasted blood in his mouth and spat on the floor. “You’re a real man, sucker-punching people from behind, eh?”
The man charged again, but this time Javin was ready. He turned to his side and threw his right foot. The kick caught the man on the chest, and he fell against one of the closets. The move pulled hard on Javin’s shoulder, but the pain was worth it.
The other gunman pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Javin’s head.
The blond man shouted at the gunman in Chinese, and he put the gun away. Then the blond waved them off. “Out, wait outside.”
He opened one of the drawers and picked up a box of Kleenex. He threw it at Javin, who caught it with his right hand. “You’ve got something here.” The blond touched the left corner of his mouth.
Javin wiped some blood from his lips. “They’re wasting your time, you know that?”
The blond nodded. “Perhaps. I still want to know about Mongolia.”
“You’re not going to get anything from me.”
He locked eyes with Javin. “I’m going to get what I want one way or the other. I have ways you can’t even imagine.”
He walked closer to Javin, but remained slightly beyond the reach of his right leg. Javin asked, “So, now what?”
The blond shrugged. “Are you going to talk?”
“Are you going to waste your time?”
The blond grinned. “You’re a smart man, Pierce, so I hope you’ll understand my words. Whatever it is you’re doing, here or in Mongolia, stop it. Pack your bags, get your little friend Claudia, and go back home. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. This is way, way over your head.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will, one way or the other. I would have ended this right now, right here. A bullet to your thick head. But ... the paperwork, the repercussions, it’s just not worth it.” The blond man shook his head. “The next time we meet, wherever that might be, I will not be this patient.” The blond kept his pistol aimed at Javin and slowly backtracked his steps toward the door. When he was about a step away, he holstered his pistol and pulled out a key from his front jeans pocket. He tossed it to Javin, who caught it with his free hand. It was the handcuffs key.
The blond man said, “Your stuff is in one of the closets. Take it and run, while you can. You’ve got twenty-four hours.” He tapped his wristwatch as if his words were not clear enough.
Javin thought about returning a smart-aleck reply, but saw no point in it. He would be free in a matter of seconds, and, of course, he had no intention of quitting. The next thought that came into his mind was wondering if he could still make the flight to Mongolia.
The blond waited for another moment for Javin’s reply, and when there was nothing, he gave Javin a small nod and left the room.
Javin uncuffed his hand and rubbed the scraped wrist. As he jumped off the bed, he felt a slight pain across his back. He found the place where the Taser’s prongs had punctured his jacket. He drew in a deep breath, and the tightening on his chest returned. The Taser’s effects continued for quite some time after the attack.
He found his rucksack on the top shelf of the nearest closet. All his belongings were there, but they were tossed around. Javin sighed. Someone had gone through and had copied everything from his two burner phones. They’ve probably placed bugs inside the phones and even my clothes... The last thought caused him a sagging frown. Yeah, I’ve got to get rid of everything.
His wristwatch was near the bottom of the rucksack. It had been almost an hour since he had last checked, a few minutes before he was attacked. He made some quick mental calculations. He was still on time for the flight to Mongolia. Unless they’ve changed the time and depending on where they’ve taken me...
He stepped cautiously outside the room and, when he looked to the left, his eyes found the two gunmen. One of them ran his hand under his throat in a menacing gesture. Javin ignored it and walked in the other direction, down the long hall lit by small ceiling-mounted fluorescent lights. The sign on the door up ahead announced in Chinese and English letters: This Way to Departures Level.
Javin smiled. I’m still at the airport. He hurried his steps, determined more than ever to catch his flight.
Chapter Nineteen
Beijing Capital International Airport
Beijing, China
Javin stood next to the gate for the flight heading to Bali, Indonesia leaving in forty-five minutes. There were a few expatriates around, mostly dressed in colorful vacation clothes and chatting loudly among themselves. Javin had no intention of mingling with them, but he wanted to avoid drawing any attention to himself from someone who might have seen the earlier altercation between him and the two gunmen. Some of the passengers were still there, sitting in the lounge area, and at least a few of them would remember the frightening scene that had taken place in front of their eyes.
He paced the waiting area, glancing left and right for the right person who would be able to assist him. Javin needed a clean phone, something that would not be connected to him. He could buy a burner phone, but there was no guarantee that the man behind the counter was not working for the Chinese intelligence agency or that the phone had no tracking device. That’s exactly what the MSS would expect him to do. Besides, with all the security cameras monitoring every inch of the terminal, Javin wouldn’t be able to hide if he walked straight into an electronics store.
There was one other option.
The target was a seemingly absent-minded young man, chatting loudly on his phone, while rolling his luggage behind him. He was coming from the other direction and was still on the phone as he passed by Javin. So the agent turned around and followed the young man, staying about four, five steps behind. Hopefully, it was going to be a short call.
It was.
The man ended his call after about a minute or so, just as he was coming to the point where the halls intersected. He placed the phone in the outer pocket of his jacket, the perfect location, as if daring Javin to pick it up.
Javin hurried his steps and overtook the young man. Then he stopped and turned around unexpectedly, bumping into the man. “Oh, I’m sorry, so sorry,” Javin said.
The young man gave Javin a curious glance and shrugged. He said something in Chinese, then kept walking.
Javin held the phone he had just lifted from the man’s pocket in his right hand. He pushed the home button, and the phone lit up. He was not prompted to enter a password, so he quickly dialed Mila’s number.
She did not answer until after the third ring. “Yes, who is this?” She spoke in Russian, in a worried tone.
“Mila, it’s me, Javin.” He glanced behind, but the young man had not yet realized his phone had been stolen. Javin turned a corner, then found a somewhat quiet place to have the sensitive conversation. “Oh, dear Javin, the number shows up as some Chinese guy, and in Beijing. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, well, it will be soon. But listen, things have come up, and our plans will have to change...”
“That means no Spanish heat?”
Javin smiled. “No, not for a while. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Mila’s voice turned cold and sharp.
“It’s out of my control.”
“I understand that. But it seems to happen whenever we have a meeting, which you requested, along with a big favor.”
Javin thought about reminding Mila that if her squad had carried out the London operation without a glitch, they would not be in this predicament. Instead, he said, “It does, but we’ll have to meet another time, another place.”
“If that doesn’t change.”
Javin sighed but did not say anything for a long moment. He glanced around him at the ever-shifting flow of travelers, almost expecting to see MSS agents following him, or the young man looking for his phone.
Mila also did not say anything, so finally Javin said, “Do we have anything new?”
“Javin, I must say you do have guts to still ask for the favor...”
He bit his lip, but only for a second. “Well, work still needs to be done—”
“Yes, and I’m the one doing it, for you, Javin.”
“That’s not fair, Mila.”
“Sure it is. You were hinting my team botched up the operation in London—”
“I wasn’t hinting at anything.”
“No? But you asked me to look into it, to check with my people, right? To make sure they didn’t mess up, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then this is your job, Javin, staying alive—that’s something you should do, not me.”
“Mila, why are you—”
“Because I’m tired, Javin. I’m tired of being played, of being blamed.”
Javin looked around, feeling curious eyes on him. He saw a security guard who was casting a sweeping gaze around the hall. Javin nodded and smiled at the guard, who did not smile back or return the nod. Javin said, “What are you talking about? No one is blaming you ... I only asked for you to check, see if there were any issues at your end...”
“Of course, at my end, even though this was your idea, and the operation went smoothly. But you still think it was us, the Russians.”
“Mila, come on, this has nothing to do with that.”
“Oh, it doesn’t? What about the money, Javin?”
“Money? What money?”
“The 2.5 million dollars, Javin, which you transferred from Luxembourg to Kurdistan.”
Javin’s jaw almost dropped. How ... how does she know about the transfer to Liberty’s camp? He caught himself before stuttering or saying something to further irritate Mila. “Mila, this is getting out of hand. Let’s talk about this when we meet.”
“I was going to do that, but you’re dumping me, Javin, for another woman.”
Javin bit his lip and drew in a deep breath. “Mila, let’s talk about this face-to-face.”
“All right, Javin. You have my number. Call me when it’s convenient for you, and when you can actually make time for me.”
Javin shook his head and sighed. “Bye, Mila.”
The SVR agent hung up without another word.
Javin cursed under his breath and clutched the phone tight in his hands. How did she find out about the money? The banker? Or did Mila’s people somehow intercept the transfer? Either way, this is really bad news.
Yael’s words echoed in his mind: You have twenty-four hours. Now, he had even less, and the prospects were getting dimmer and dimmer.
