You dont know jack, p.1
You Don't Know Jack, page 1
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK
A JUST JACK THRILLER
J. ROBERT KENNEDY
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BOOKS BY J. ROBERT KENNEDY
Please click here for the intended reading order.
* Also available in audio
The Templar Detective Thrillers
The Templar Detective
The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress
The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret
The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist
The Templar Detective and the Code Breaker
The Templar Detective and the Black Scourge
The Templar Detective and the Lost Children
The Templar Detective and the Satanic Whisper
The Just Jack Thrillers
You Don't Know Jack
The James Acton Thrillers
The Protocol *
Brass Monkey *
Broken Dove
The Templar’s Relic
Flags of Sin
The Arab Fall
The Circle of Eight
The Venice Code
Pompeii’s Ghosts
Amazon Burning
The Riddle
Blood Relics
Sins of the Titanic
Saint Peter’s Soldiers
The Thirteenth Legion
Raging Sun
Wages of Sin
Wrath of the Gods
The Templar’s Revenge
The Nazi’s Engineer
Atlantis Lost
The Cylon Curse
The Viking Deception
Keepers of the Lost Ark
The Tomb of Genghis Khan
The Manila Deception
The Fourth Bible
Embassy of the Empire
Armageddon
No Good Deed
The Last Soviet
Lake of Bones
Fatal Reunion
The Resurrection Tablet
The Antarctica Incident
The Ghosts of Paris
No More Secrets
The Dylan Kane Thrillers
Rogue Operator *
Containment Failure *
Cold Warriors *
Death to America
Black Widow
The Agenda
Retribution
State Sanctioned
Extraordinary Rendition
Red Eagle
The Messenger
The Defector
The Mole
The Arsenal
The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers
Payback
Infidels
The Lazarus Moment
Kill Chain
Forgotten
The Cuban Incident
Rampage
Inside the Wire
Charlie Foxtrot
The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries
Depraved Difference
Tick Tock
The Redeemer
The Kriminalinspektor Wolfgang Vogel Mysteries
The Colonel’s Wife
Sins of the Child
Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series
The Turned
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Table of Contents
The Novel
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Acknowledgments
Don't Miss Out!
Thank You!
About the Author
Also by the Author
For the victims of the new Soviet Union, same as the old.
“Amicus meus, inimicus inimici mei.”
“My friend, the enemy of my enemy.”
Ancient Proverb
“The missile is awaiting command,
The Russian Sarmat is ready to strike our enemy.
It’s ready to carry out an order,
To turn the enemy into dust.
It has one joy,
To disturb NATO’s sleep.”
Lyrics from Sarmatushka by Denis Maidanov, elected member of President Vladimir Putin’s United Russia Party. Released by the Russian Defense Ministry on December 17, 2022.
PREFACE
With recent events in Ukraine, the topic of strategic versus tactical nuclear weapons has become a subject of discussion, with the discourse taking a horrifying turn where some believe the use of tactical nuclear weapons is fine.
There is a clear distinction between the two types of weapons. Tactical nuclear weapons typically have smaller yields in the one to 50-kiloton range, and strategic nuclear weapons usually have yields in the 100-kiloton to over one-megaton range.
Tactical nukes are meant for use on the battlefield, whereas strategic are designed to take out large targets including cities.
To put the discussion in perspective, the bomb dropped on Hiroshima that killed 70,000-135,000 people had a yield of approximately 15 kilotons.
Tactical nuclear weapons are serious, barbaric weapons that should only be used for deterrence, not as part of modern conventional warfare. Yet there are those in Russia who are demanding their president use tactical nuclear weapons to turn the tide on the battlefield. The current Russian president has threatened to employ his country’s massive nuclear arsenal against its enemies, though most don’t believe he would be so foolish.
Yet there are those within the Russian power structure who wouldn’t hesitate. The question is, what would happen should one of them decide Russia’s humiliation had gone on long enough, and victory must be achieved?
No matter the cost.
K
1 |
Server Room S204, The Kremlin Moscow, Russia
FSB Agent Teresa Novikov glanced over her shoulder as she rushed to the back of the server room located in the bowels of the Kremlin. She was a double agent, and her handler, a CIA operations officer known only to her as Jack, grunted as he shoved against the lone door, the only thing holding back the armed guards on the other side hellbent on killing them.
A tech, still at his keyboard, turned toward her, his eyes bulging with fear as gunfire continued in the corridor. Her country, their country, was going to hell, and a global thermonuclear war could be only days if not hours away.
Because Jack stood accused of an unspeakable crime, committed on behalf of the American government.
The tech held up some zip-ties. “You can use these.”
She grabbed them then pointed to the corner where the man’s partner lay unconscious. “Sit.”
He did and she bound his hands and feet, doing the same to his friend.
“Remember, if anyone asks, we knocked you out too. You have no idea what happened in here.”
He nodded rapidly. “Good luck.”
She eyed him. “So, you’re on our side now?”
“I’m no fool.”
“Let’s hope you’re not the only one.”
Heavy gunfire echoed through the room from the doorway and Teresa spun toward the ear-shattering sound to see Jack with the door open, an AK-74 pumping lead at their enemy, her fellow countrymen, in a last-ditch effort to gain the upper hand.
Against impossible odds.
They had managed to survive longer than they should, but there was no way in hell they were getting out of this room alive.
K
2 |
Sheraton Grand Warsaw Hotel Warsaw, Poland Two Days Earlier
“Damn, I’m sexy.”
CIA Operations Officer Jack—just Jack, turned to the side, admiring his profile in the mirror. Normally, he was a jeans and t-shirt type of guy—he couldn’t stand a suit and tie, but there was something about a tuxedo that just worked. If he had a personal life, he couldn’t imagine ever wearing one outside of a wedding, and if it were at a wedding, he certainly wouldn’t be the groom. Not with his lifestyle. Working for America’s Central Intelligence Agency as an operations officer was probably one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, especially since he was one of their more in-demand personnel.
The powers that be for some reason liked the fact he got the job done.
He didn’t mind the danger, in fact, he embraced it. You could get hit by a bus tomorrow or diagnosed with terminal cancer. No one said you were guaranteed to live to 74.5 years just because that’s what statistics said the average person lived to. He had already won the lottery by being born in America, where death at childbirth was extremely rare. In other parts of the world, he would have been lucky to see the age of five. He could die tomorrow of natural causes or five years from now in a car crash like his parents had when he was a teenager.
He had grown up in the system, something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, though as he thought back on it as an adult, he was part of the problem. He had never given any of his foster parents a chance, lashing out with hate and distrust. He was angry that his parents had died and left him all alone. No aunts, no uncles, no grandparents. There were probably some distant relatives out there, but nobody had stepped forward, and his parents had died without wills. Nobody thinks they’re dying in their mid-thirties, so no guardians had been named. As a result, he had bounced from foster home to foster home until he was finally placed under the care of two people who just got him.
Paul and Joanne hadn’t treated him with kid gloves. Everyone else had always tiptoed around his problems, his past, afraid to set him off, but they engaged with him, asked him questions, talked about what had happened, about why he was in the system, and rather than make excuses for the mistakes of those supposed to take care of him, they instead expressed not only empathy but the same anger he felt. It had opened up the lines of communication, and for the first time since the accident, he had finally faced what had happened. And with the sympathetic ears now available to him with a lifetime of experience behind them, he learned to forgive his parents for the mistakes they had made, because nobody could be blamed for not planning to die so young.
He had finished his teenage years in the loving home provided by Paul and Joanne and their daughter Jamie, embracing Paul’s passion for martial arts. He had gone to college, and when he graduated near the top of his class in International Relations, a passion of Joanne’s, he’d been recruited.
And now, a decade later, he stood in front of a mirror in a five-star hotel in downtown Warsaw, preparing to meet with an asset that claimed to have critical information about something going on in Russia. He had no idea what the intel was. She had refused to elaborate, except to say it was critical they meet in person.
He adjusted his bowtie, something Langley had taught him how to tie, his jeans and t-shirt wardrobe providing few opportunities to wear a regular tie, let alone this monstrosity. He left it slightly askew as the fashionistas said it should be, though it had him frowning at his reflection.
Things should be straight.
He fit his comms into his ear canal, tucked in so deep only a doctor would find it. He cleared his throat. “Control, Jackrabbit. Do you read me, over?”
The familiar voice of Control Actual, Chris Leroux for tonight, replied immediately. “Jackrabbit, Control Actual. We read you. What’s your status, over?”
“My status is the usual, Control. Damn sexy and ready for action.”
Leroux sniggered in Jack’s ear. “Is that why you’re late checking in? You’re having a little sexy time with yourself?”
Jack gave himself a toothy smile in the mirror then grabbed his jacket. “You know me so well. I’m heading out now. ETA at the embassy, fifteen minutes.”
“Copy that. Do you have your watch?”
Jack checked his CIA-customized Rolex, far fancier than his usual equally customized Casio, as a coded electric pulse stimulating his wrist indicated Langley’s test signal. “Yes, Mom, I’ve got my watch on. I promise I’ll be home by bedtime. Are you like this when Sherrie’s going out on an op?”
Leroux laughed at the mention of his girlfriend, Sherrie White, also an operations officer assigned to Eastern Europe. “I’m worse. Just one thing, Jack, remember what happened the last two times you met with this asset?”
Jack headed for the door, smirking at the pornographic memories. “How could I forget?”
“Yeah, well, everyone here in the operations center can’t forget either. You left your comms activated all effin’ night.”
Jack laughed as he gripped the doorknob. “Well, I hope everyone was taking notes because she seemed damn happy with my tradecraft.”
“Tradecraft? I don’t remember reading that in the manual.”
“That’s because you haven’t read the Operations Officer Intimate Encounters Handbook.”
“That actually exists? I thought that was just a rumor.”
“That’s what they want you to believe. Do you really think the American taxpayer would be happy if they knew there was a lovemaking manual out there for their spies?”
“I think if America knew there was a lovemaking manual out there for their spies, they’d want a copy.”
Jack laughed. “You’re probably right. When I’m finished with this op, I’ll get you a copy. I guarantee you Sherrie’s read it.” There was a pause, and for a moment Jack wondered if he had gone too far. He had never met Leroux in person though another officer, Dylan Kane, whom he had worked with on multiple occasions and considered a friend, was best friends with Leroux. And with Kane’s sense of humor, Leroux had to share at least some of it for them to be so close.
Leroux finally responded. “There’s something I should say here in defense of my girlfriend, but since every single word of this is being recorded and transcribed for the record, I’ll refrain from commenting until we meet in person someday.”
“You do that.”
“Enough chitchat. Get your ass to the embassy. The sooner this op is over the better. Whenever an asset demands to meet within twenty-four hours, it always raises red flags and we never get time to set up properly.”
“Stop worrying like a mother hen. I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Let’s hope, and maybe this time come back alone.”
“No promises. She’s spectacular. I’m pretty sure she’s read the manual or at least the Russian equivalent of it.”
“You think the Russians have a manual?”
Jack laughed. “Oh, they absolutely have a manual. Trust me. Check your notes from last time. Now enough of this talk about sex. You’re making me horny. If all this sexy talk keeps up for the night, I want somebody with a much more sultry voice than yours in my ear.”
Leroux laughed. “I think Randy is ready to play Control.”
Somebody yelled, “Yeah baby!” in the background, and Jack thanked God it was Leroux’s team watching his back tonight. If he was going to die, he’d rather die laughing with someone in his ear who had a sense of humor rather than a straight-laced by-the-book government employee. If somebody new would be in his ear tonight, however, Sonya Tong would be his preference, not Randy Child.
He pulled the door open. “Going silent.”
K
3 |
Chopin Boutique Hotel Warsaw, Poland
Teresa Novikov stood in front of the mirror and stuffed her hand into her bra, grabbing her boob and pulling it up and inward, then repeated the process, turning her respectable Bs into spectacular Bs. Tonight was the biggest night of her career. She worked for the FSB, the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation, once known as the KGB. What her taskmasters didn’t know was that she was a double agent, passing intel on to the Americans for almost three years now.
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