Target acquired, p.21
Target Acquired, page 21
“Yes, this was a joint op,” Flavio said. “But we should still try to keep the Afghan government in the dark.”
Carrie nodded. “If we had told them we were coming, word might have gotten to Doma, and he would have disappeared.”
“True, very true.” Flavio closed the folder and set it aside. Then he picked up a new one. “This just came in during the night.” He smiled. “The first intel report from our terrorist recruit.”
“Doma?” Justin asked.
“Yes. Plans of Islamic State fighters to bomb a stadium in Rome during a soccer final match. We’ve already shared the intel with the Italians, and they’ve already made several arrests.”
“I’m glad the intel was genuine.”
“Yes, it seems you made the right call turning the Libyan into an asset. Although I had my reservations, since you went against a clear order...”
Justin nodded. In their earlier conversations, Flavio had used terms such as “disobeyed” and “defiance.”
Flavio said, “If Doma continues to produce intel, I’d say it was a good trade: his life for valuable intel.”
Justin tried not to have a look of self-satisfaction. “Yes, sir,” he said politely.
“Now, before we talk about your new assignment, let’s take a moment to clear up something about Marco’s involvement in the Tunisia op.” Flavio tossed the folder aside, next to the one he had finished perusing. “How exactly did he find out about the safehouse where Khazri was staying?”
Justin had anticipated the question and was prepared for it. In fact, he had wondered why Flavio had taken so long to broach the subject. “I’m unclear on the specifics, but I’m glad he was able to assist. He’s a good friend.”
“And the safehouse op? When he nabbed Khazri? Do you know more about that?”
Justin answered without hesitation. “Marco refused to give me details. Considering the situation, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth...”
“Right. It seems he did everything very well. I’d like to meet this extraordinary fellow.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Justin spoke hastily, eager to end the conversation.
Flavio nodded, but his look of suspicion lingered.
He glanced at Carrie and said, “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.”
When Carrie had closed the door behind her, Flavio stood up. He walked around the desk and stood against it, leaning closer to Justin. “I’ve received some troubling intel from Tunisia. About the attack against the safehouse, when Khazri was detained by your friend Marco.”
Justin’s face remained calm, but he began to squirm inside. How much does Flavio know about my involvement? He said nothing but offered Flavio a small nod.
“It seemed Marco was not acting alone. In fact, he was given intel, accurate intel about the location of the safehouse and the high-value targets who could be inside.”
Justin nodded again, but knew better than to offer any answers. If Flavio wanted his opinion, he would ask a direct question.
Flavio looked deep into Justin’s eyes before asking, “How much intel did you give Marco?”
“He knew everything, so I only confirmed a couple of things. We had no idea Khazri was going to be in the safehouse.”
“And?”
Justin shrugged. “I don’t understand.”
“What other support did you give Marco?”
“I told him that I’d owe him one. He said we’re all squared up, since I saved his life once.”
Flavio nodded. “I’m aware of that fact.”
His eyes lingered on Justin’s face. Although Flavio had not asked any question, his prying eyes were doing all the talking.
Justin thought about it for a moment, then said, “Karolin, my girlfriend and a colleague, was kidnapped and could have died at any second. I ... I would have done anything within my power to get her back.” He kept his voice low and chose his words carefully, not to come across as arrogant or to sound like he was justifying his actions.
Flavio folded his arms across his chest. “And I would have authorized any and all kinds of action to secure her freedom, Justin. What I can’t have is agents running their own private wars, their solo ops, risking their own lives and the lives of their team. If you were caught during the time when ... when you were out doing ... whatever you were doing, that would have been the end of you and potentially of Karolin as well.”
Justin nodded.
“Do you understand me, Justin?”
“Yes, yes, I understand, sir. It ... it will not happen again.”
Flavio nodded but the look of doubt did not leave his face. “I hope we’re not in the same situation in a few weeks, Justin. When something like this—when loved ones are taken or hurt, when partners’ lives are at stake—remember that you and I are on the same side. I wanted Karolin released at all costs, just like you.”
“I ... I didn’t see that at the time, sir.” Justin’s voice expressed true regret. He wanted to tell Flavio everything, how useless he felt being told to stand down and wait, while everyone else was working like madmen to save Karolin. But he did not think it was the right time to open up, especially considering Flavio was still Justin’s boss.
“I hope it is clear now.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Good.” Flavio nodded. He walked to the door and called Carrie.
Once she was back in her seat, Flavio picked up one of the folders, glanced at the first page, then flipped through it. “The CIA is extremely happy with the cooperation between the agencies. They’d like you and Patton to work together again.”
“Yes, I’d like that too.”
“Once you get better and are back in good shape. But until then, I have something that will suit you and your condition really well.” He slid the folder across the table toward Justin.
He frowned. He did not like the way Flavio said the word “condition,” as if Justin was sick and contagious. Is he trying to get rid of me? “What is it?”
“Your next assignment. Have a look.”
Justin reached for the folder, but his hand hovered over it without touching it.
“Go on, it’s not going to burn you...”
He picked it up and opened it. The first page had the picture of a three-story building in Helsinki, Finland. It was the ECS station in the Scandinavian country. Justin’s frown creased his entire face. He thought he had a pretty good idea where Flavio was headed, but still asked, “Is this a transfer?”
“No, not exactly. It’s ... call it a secondment, a learning opportunity. Since you’re still recovering, this is as close to field duty as you will get. Unless you want to stay here and review reports...”
“No, I’d rather not.”
“I thought so. Look, this is only for a few weeks. The Helsinki station is pretty quiet, almost nothing ever happens there. It’s small, cozy. You’ll be managing three people, and one of them is a field operative. It’s a good chance to get some management skills.”
“Yes, I’ve never seen myself as a boss.”
“Well, get used to it. You won’t be a field operative all your career. I’m not saying you’re ready to retire behind a desk, but for now, get used to being a boss.”
Justin studied Flavio’s face for a long moment. He saw only determination. Flavio had already made his decision, and nothing Justin could say was going to change his boss’s mind. “When am I leaving?”
“In a couple of days, once all paperwork is in order.”
“Who’s going with me?”
Flavio smiled. “I don’t think you’ll need Carrie’s or Karolin’s help in the Helsinki station. But they’ll come to visit, or if there’s a situation. But like I said, Helsinki is pretty quiet.”
Justin nodded. He seemed to notice something unsettling in his boss’s voice, but Justin could not determine what it really was. So he shrugged, closed the folder, and said, “I’m ready to go, as soon as you give the order.”
BOOKS BY ETHAN JONES
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Alternate Ending
Two weeks later
ECS Headquarters
Vienna, Austria
“Now, before we talk about your new assignment, let’s take a moment to clear up something about Marco’s involvement in the Tunisia op.” Flavio tossed the folder aside, next to the one he had finished perusing. “How exactly did he find out about the safehouse where Khazri was staying?”
Justin had anticipated the question and was prepared for it. In fact, he had wondered why Flavio had taken so long to broach the subject. “I’m unclear on the specifics, but I’m glad he was able to assist. He’s a good friend.”
“And the safehouse op? When he nabbed Khazri? Do you know more about that?”
Justin answered without hesitation. “Marco refused to give me details. Considering the situation, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth...”
“Right. It seems he did everything very well. I’d like to meet this extraordinary fellow.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Justin spoke hastily, eager to end this conversation.
Flavio nodded, but his look of suspicion lingered.
Justin held his breath. He thought his boss was going to continue that line of questioning, but after a headshake, Flavio reached for a third folder. “The CIA is extremely happy with the cooperation between the agencies. They’d like you and Patton to work together again.”
“Yes, I’d like that too.”
“Once you get better and are back in good shape. But until then, I have something that will fit you and your condition really well.” He slid the folder across the table toward Justin.
He frowned. He did not like the way Flavio said the word “condition,” as if Justin was sick and contagious. Is he trying to get rid of me? “What is it?”
“Your next assignment. Have a look.”
Justin reached for the folder, but his hand hovered over it without touching it.
“Go on, it’s not going to burn you...”
He picked it up and opened it. The first page had the picture of a three-story building in Helsinki, Finland. It was the ECS station in the Scandinavian country. Justin’s frown creased his entire face. He thought he had a pretty good idea where Flavio was headed, but still asked, “Is this a transfer?”
“No, not exactly. It’s ... call it a secondment, a learning opportunity. Since you’re still recovering, this is as close to field duty as you will get. Unless you want to stay here and review reports...”
“No, I’d rather not.”
“I thought so. Look, this is only for a few weeks. The Helsinki station is pretty quiet, almost nothing ever happens there. It’s small, cozy. You’ll be managing three people, and one of them is a field operative. It’s a good chance to get some management skills.”
“Yes, I’ve never seen myself as a boss.”
“Well, get used to it. You won’t be a field operative all your career. I’m not saying you’re ready to retire behind a desk, but for now, get used to being a boss.”
Justin studied Flavio’s face for a long moment. He saw only determination. Flavio had already made his decision, and nothing Justin could say was going to change his boss’s mind. “When am I leaving?”
“In a couple of days, once all paperwork is in order.”
“Who’s going with me?”
Flavio smiled. “I don’t think you’ll need Carrie’s or Karolin’s help in the Helsinki station. But they’ll come to visit, or if there’s a situation. But like I said, Helsinki is pretty quiet.”
Justin nodded. He seemed to notice something unsettling in his boss’s voice, but Justin could not determine what it really was. So he shrugged, closed the folder, and said, “I’m ready to go, as soon as you give the order.”
Justin Hall Spy Thriller Series
Trouble in Turkmenistan
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The Reza Resolution
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The Corrector
The Javin Pierce Spy Thriller Series - Book 1
The Story:
When covert operations go wrong, the CIS sends in . . . The Corrector.
After a botched retrieval operation, Javin Pierce is sent in to complete the mission where others failed. But, before even getting started, Javin and his less-than-trusted partner, Claudia, must deal with a devious terrorist plot. Their search leads them to a flash drive containing scandals that could topple world governments and plunge Europe into absolute chaos if they do not retrieve it in time.
How will The Corrector fix this disastrous mission? Uncertain if they can even trust each other and unprepared for the shocking truth that could cost their lives, Javin and Claudia must stop the treasonous plot, retrieve the elusive drive, and save themselves and the entire European continent, all without leaving a trace . . .
The Corrector is the first in the brand-new adrenaline-drenched Javin Pierce spy thriller series.
Chapter One
Military Base #9341
Vorë, 17 km northwest of Tirana
Albania
Javin Pierce stared down the barrel of the Makarov PM pistol inches away from his face. This was not the first time the covert operative had looked at the business end of a gun. It was definitely not going to be the last time. He could wrestle the pistol away from the cocky colonel and wipe the smirk off his face in a split second. Before he could ask “What happened?” the officer would be lying on the floor with a broken jaw. Or worse, a broken neck, depending on Javin’s operational objective.
He drew in a deep breath and shrugged. His cover was that of a lost tourist, who had ventured by mistake inside the military base. When the patrol had apprehended him—as per Javin’s plan—he had feigned panic and had tried to justify his presence. “I got lost officer, I just . . . I took the wrong turn and . . . yes; I ended up inside the base. Sorry. Very sorry.”
As expected, the patrol did not buy his excuse. They had thrown him in an old UAZ-469—the Communist answer to the American Jeep, which the Albanian army still used—and had brought him to the command post, deep inside the base. Javin had almost enjoyed a guided tour of the base facilities, one of the targets of his mission.
“Speak, before I blow your head off,” the colonel spat out his heavily accented words, saliva flying out of his mouth.
They were in a small, dimly lit interrogation room that reeked of mold and urine. Javin was sitting on a rickety wooden chair, with his elbows placed on a metal table bolted to the coarse cement floor. The colonel was standing to Javin’s right.
“I . . . I understand your frustration, sir,” Javin said in a low, weak voice. “As I told your patrol, I’m a photographer. I was taking pictures, and I got lost.”
He wanted to give the impression of submissiveness, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. He had no illusions the colonel would let him go free. The middle-aged colonel was eyeing Javin like a snake preparing to devour a fat mouse.
It did not matter. Javin’s escape plan was already in place. All he had to do was wait for the phone call. Javin had lost track of time when the officers had stripped him of all his valuables—camera, cellphone, wristwatch—suspecting he was a spy, which he was. Now, if he could hold on and avoid a good beating, he was more than happy to do so.
The colonel held the pistol tight in his hands. “You’re telling me you didn’t see the signs warning you to stay away from the base?”
Javin shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“You just decided to go through the fence, right?”
“Yes, sir. There was a large gap, so . . . I . . . I thought this was a farmer’s field that would lead me to the top of the hill. As you can see from the photos in my camera, I was trying to get a good shot of the full moon behind the olive groves.”
“I don’t believe you.” The colonel shook his large bald head. “You’re lying to me.”
“Why would I do that, sir?”
“Because you’re not a photographer. You’re a spy. You’ve come here to take pictures of the base.”
Javin frowned, then ran his fingers through his neck-length brown hair. “Your officers searched my camera. They found nothing of that sort. Only pictures of landscape and animals. That’s because I’m a freelance photographer.”
Javin had already emailed the pictures he had taken of the weapons cache. His camera was equipped with an encrypted wireless connection that erased all traces of any activity at the tap of a button. Albania had become the preferred smuggling route for channeling weapons from the Balkan wars and the Kosovo conflict to the Middle East and North Africa. The condemning evidence of the base’s involvement in trafficking weapons to fuel the wars in Syria and Iraq was already safely stored in the servers of the Canadian Intelligence Service, Javin’s employer.
The colonel lowered his Makarov just an inch. He cursed Javin, then he said, “That’s because you deleted those pictures when you were caught.”
Javin cocked his head. “Why would I take pictures and then delete them? When your officers detained me, they called at me to freeze. I did so. I had no chance to get to my camera. Ask them, if you don’t believe me.”
