Looming Danger

Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller #21

by

Trevor Scott

Calabria Publishing

United States of America

Also by Trevor Scott

Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series

Fatal Network (#1)

Extreme Faction (#2)

The Dolomite Solution (#3)

Vital Force (#4)

Rise of the Order (#5)

The Cold Edge (#6)

Without Options (#7)

The Stone of Archimedes (#8)

Lethal Force (#9)

Rising Tiger (#10)

Counter Caliphate (#11)

Gates of Dawn (#12)

Counter Terror (#13)

Covert Network (#14)

Shadow Warrior (#15)

Sedition (#16)

Choke Points (#17)

Deadly Cabal (#18)

Cold Enemies (#19)

Terminal Force (#20)

Lake Superior Mystery Series

The Fall

Winter Kill

Killer Spring

Max & Robin Kane Mystery Series

Truth or Justice (#1)

Stolen Honor (#2)

Relative Impact (#3)

Without Virtue (#4)

Sweet Home Betrayal (#5)

Powder Keg (#6)

No Retreat (#7)

Deadly Crossing (#8)

Abusive Power (#9)

Dystopian Novel

Liberty Lost

Karl Adams Espionage Thriller Series

The Man from Murmansk (#1)

Siberian Protocol (#2)

The Spy Within (#3)

Double Impact (#4)

Ratchet Up (#5)

Into the Darkness (#6)

Endless Resolve #7

Supreme Power #8

Tony Caruso Mystery Series

Boom Town (#1)

Burst of Sound (#2)

Running Game (#3)

Chad Hunter Espionage Thriller Series

Hypershot (#1)

Global Shot (#2)

Cyber Shot (#3)

Keenan Fitzpatrick Mystery Series

Isolated (#1)

Burning Down the House (#2)

Witness to Murder (#3)

Mysteries, Thrillers & Fiction

Vegas Murder Mystery

Fusion Target

The Perfect Murder

Fantastic Encounter

Edge of Delirium

Strong Conviction

Fractured State (A Novella)

The Nature of Man

Discernment

Way of the Sword

Drifting Back

The Dawn of Midnight

The Hobgoblin of the Redwoods

Duluthians: A Collection of Short Stories

Non Fiction

West Pac: A Young Sailor’s Journey

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and not intended to represent real people or places. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.

LOOMING DANGER

Copyright © 2025 by Trevor Scott

Calabria Publishing

United States of America

Contents

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1

Gomez Station, Antarctica

The New Year’s celebration had already begun for the majority of the forty researchers on this remote island in the frigid Southern Ocean across the Drake Passage from South America.

Only Gerhard Burk, the lead researcher at this remote outpost, remained sober and logically upright. Burk was a tall, slim man in his mid-fifties, and one of the most prominent authorities in his field of physics. The Swiss man was considered by most at the station as a no nonsense leader. But he thought of himself as a pragmatist with a dry sense of humor.

Since this was the summer in Antarctica, Burk wore his orange parka over a thin wool sweater, the slight breeze blowing through his long gray hair as he stood at the edge of the small makeshift runway on the glacier east of Gomez Station, waiting for the supply plane to land. They normally got their supplies by boat from Argentina or Chile, but he had gotten word a few hours ago to expect a plane from Ushuaia, Argentina. Flights were infrequent here, since the weather was so unpredictable and the wind could sweep snow across the strip used by the ski-equipped planes, and they didn’t have anything but shovels and manpower to clear the glacier. But at this time of year that wasn’t necessary, Burk knew, and he had relayed that to the Gomez Organization to confirm the incoming flight. Burk’s only problem was understanding why they were coming. What could have been the urgency on New Year’s Eve?

Burk heard the de Havilland DHC-6 Twin Otter before he saw the small twin-engine yellow plane break through the clouds and fog of the gray sky and approach from the north. As the plane descended, Burk couldn’t stop his physics brain from considering the breakdown of the craft. Range: 800 miles. Maximum speed: 216 mph. Distance from Ushuaia, Argentina to Gomez Station: Six hundred miles, assuming the winds over the Southern Ocean didn’t throw the small aircraft off course.

Glancing toward one side of the landing strip, Burk saw the small fuel drums and realized he would have to order more after this plane refueled to make the return trip.

The plane hit a crosswind just before landing, shoving it in an awkward position as the skis touched down on the ice. Then the plane slowed quickly and taxied toward Burk.

Once the Twin Otter shut down, a side door opened and a man wearing a parka got off and shuffled across the frozen tarmac toward Burk. Behind him, two other men started offloading supplies.

Burk met the man and extended his hand to shake, but he got nothing in return. With the thick beard and the unnecessary sunglasses, it was nearly impossible to see the man’s face.

Pulling his hand back, he said, “Gerhard Burk. And you are?”

“Not important,” the man said with an indistinguishable accent. “Can we speak in private?”

Burk glanced about and said, “It doesn’t get more private than Gomez Station in Antarctica.”

“Perhaps in the building?” the man said.

The building the man referred to was nothing more than a shack used to store tools and shovels. But Burk nodded agreement and headed toward the shack while the flight crew pulled the fuel tanks toward their aircraft.

Once inside the building, Burk turned to the man and saw that the man had finally taken off the sunglasses and pulled the parka hood from his head, revealing a totally bald scalp.

“Can you tell me why you are here?” Burk asked.

After a long delay, the man said, “Your last communication mentioned a breakthrough in heliophysics.”

“That is my field of expertise,” Burk said. “Although, we have many research projects here at Gomez Station. Everything from the impact of Global Warming to marine life for potential use in the pharmaceutical industry.”

“But you specifically mentioned heliophysics,” the man said. This time his voice was more intense.

Burk took a step back and tried to discern this man’s meaning. Finally, he said, “Who do you work with in our organization?”

“Who do you work with here?” the man said, ignoring Burk’s question.

Burk was concerned now, unable to speak.

The man said, “Who else knows of your work here?”

Raising his hands, Burk said, “I am the only heliophysics researcher here.” This was a partial lie, of course.

“Explain to me in simple terms what you have discovered?” the man said with a considerable edge in his voice, his accent flowing freely now.

Not Germanic, Burk thought. Perhaps Slavic.

“It’s complex,” Burk finally said.

The man glanced out the only dirty window in the shack, obviously checking the progress of the crew. Turning back to Burk, the man said, “Explain it.”

Burk tried his best to keep his words obscure and technical, speaking of cosmic rays and particle acceleration. He spoke of solar activity and magnetic fields, as well as the impact of radiation and space plasmas on the solar system. He gave the man nothing concrete. Physics speak.

Suddenly, the man waved his gloved hand and said, “Enough. You are telling me nothing I could not find in a textbook. What have you discovered?”

Now Burk’s mind drifted from obscurity to his current reality. Why would the Gomez Organization send this man in person to gather information? Had they never heard of email?

“I have a SAT phone and email here,” Burk told the man. “I could have simply answered these questions that way.”

“Some things must be done in person,” the man said. “What have you learned?”

Burk took a step toward the door. “I don’t feel comfortable speaking with someone I don’t know.”

With speed and precision, the man’s left hand swung out and caught Burk in the throat. Then came a punch to Burk’s stomach, dropping the man to the dirty wooden floor as he tried to catch his breath.

“Just breathe,” the man said, putting his hand on Burk’s right shoulder.

After a couple of minutes, Burk finally caught his breath and started to stand upright. Understanding the gravity of his situation, Burk tried his best to explain his findings in simple terms.

The man glanced out the window again and then back to Burk. “Where is your research kept?”

Without thinking, Burk put his right hand over his heart. But he said, “On my laptop back at the Station.”

“You used the standard Gomez Organization protocol of encryption, right?” the man asked.

“Of course. Why?”

“So,” the man said. “Only you know the password for your laptop.”

Burk nodded his head, but he kept his hand on his chest.

The man grabbed the zipper on Burk’s parka and unzipped it, revealing a necklace with a cross. Also attached to this necklace was a one-terabyte drive. The man ripped this from the necklace and the gold cross flew across the room somewhere into a dark recess.

“Please,” Burk pled. “I have given you what you asked for.”

Putting his right index finger to his lips, the man smiled briefly before swiftly putting Burk into a choke hold.

Burk struggled against the taller and stronger man’s grasp. Just when he thought the man would stop, there was a sudden twist and a snap.

He fell and his face smashed against the wooden floor, but he couldn’t feel this. Burk’s neck was broken and he was dead before he reached the floor. If he could have seen anything, his eyes would have drifted across the room at the replica golden cross like the one he had been given at his confirmation in Geneva some forty years ago. He would have heard the stranger stepping across the wooden floor. Would have heard the plane’s twin engines firing up. And he would have heard the Twin Otter take off from that frozen glacier.

2

Southern Utah

Snow fell upon the expansive ranch owned by Jake Adams and his family. Jake found the new year in a contemplative mood. His son Karl and his girlfriend Kadri were on vacation in Asia with their son Jacob. Sirena was visiting her friend in Spain. So, the ranch felt very quiet with only Jake and his 18-year-old daughter, Emma. Other than the two of them, only a few men remained, and they were both wranglers and security.

He and Emma had shared a bottle of Prosecco the night before, with Jake drinking most of it because Emma didn’t like the taste of most alcoholic beverages. He was thankful for that. Maybe she wouldn’t follow his path of self-destruction.

Now, in a room converted into a gym that resembled a karate dojo, Jake stared out a window and watched puffs of fluffy white snow falling slowly, obscuring his view of the mountains to the west.

Glancing at a mirror, Jake noticed his shorter hair was mostly gray now, a fact that didn’t seem to bother anyone around him, including Sirena. She found the gray distinguished and sexy. But he also noticed deeper wrinkles at the edge of each eye, weathered from long days outside.

Now, in the mirror, he saw Emma enter the gym and smile at her old man before stepping lightly toward him. She wore tight black yoga pants and an equally tight top that barely kept her breasts contained. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and this gave Jake slight pause, seeing the young lady’s dead mother reincarnated.

Without saying a word, Emma attacked Jake from behind. But he was at least two steps ahead of his daughter. Anticipating her attack, Jake swiveled and swept her off her feet, sending her five-foot-eleven frame to the matted floor.

Instead of moving in for the kill, which was Jake’s normal inclination, he smiled and allowed his daughter to jump to her feet.

Emma came at him, snapping her long legs toward Jake’s head, making contact with his blocks but not his head.

“Don’t hold back, Emma,” Jake chastised.

“I don’t want to hurt you, old man,” she chided.

He laughed. “Many have tried, youngster.” He waved for her to come at him.

As she came this time, Jake could see elements she had learned from him, from her brother Karl, who had been trained by the CIA and the Russian SVR, and especially from Sirena, who was adept at everything from Kung Fu to Israeli Krav Maga, which she had learned in the Israeli Defense Forces and the Mossad before taking her talents to the U.S. in nearly every alphabet agency.

Emma got in some blows to Jake’s head and ribs before he swept her again to the mat. Frustrated, she slapped the mat with both hands.

“Don’t take it out on the mat, Emma,” he said. “Failure can lead to your death. Focus.”

She jumped to her feet and was about to attack again when Jake’s SAT phone buzzed and played a familiar tune. He had associated that song to the Gomez Organization headquarters. More specifically, to Carlos Gomez himself.

Jake picked up his phone and said, “I’m essentially retired.”

“I know, my friend,” Gomez said with his strong Catalan accent. “But I could really use your help. Nothing serious. I would ask your son, but he seems to be off the grid.”

“A long overdue vacation,” Jake instructed. He glanced over at his daughter, who waved for him to attack her this time. He shook his head no and put one finger up.

“Am I interrupting something?” Gomez asked.

“I’m with my daughter,” Jake said.

“I would like to meet her someday,” Gomez said.

Jake hoped that his old world, at any level, would never come to his daughter. But he also knew that he couldn’t isolate Emma from the world forever.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked, turning his back to his daughter.

Clearing his throat, Gomez finally said, “We had an incident at a remote research facility.”

“What kind of incident?” Jake asked.

Emma punched Jake in his right shoulder. He twisted, and sent a backfist to her face, stopping his strike just inches from her beautiful face, stunning her. She shrugged and backed away.

“Are you still there, Jake?” Gomez asked.

“Yes, sir,” Jake said, letting his daughter know it was a serious call. “What’s up?”

“What are your plans for the next week or so?”

Jake glanced at the window again and saw that the snow was still assaulting his ranch with a vengeance.

“Probably plowing snow,” Jake said. “Why?”

“You know, the Southern Hemisphere is in summer right now,” Gomez said. Jake imagined the man was smiling right now.

“I’m alone with my daughter,” Jake said.

“Bring her along.”

Jake glanced at Emma. She had officially graduated from high school, such as it was with home schooling with the best tutors money could buy. He looked past Emma at the snow falling in thick plumes.

“What do you need?” Jake asked.

“I’ll explain everything once you’re airborne,” Gomez said.

“Let me guess,” Jake said, “you already have a jet on the way to my location.”

Gomez laughed and said, “See, that’s why I like you, Jake. You anticipate my moves.”

“What’s that noise?” Jake asked.

“I’m in Guiana,” Gomez explained.

“Georgetown?”

“No, French Guiana.”

“Right,” Jake said. “The European launch facility. What do you have going up?”

“A new set of communications satellites,” Gomez said.

Jake knew this already, but he didn’t need to let on to it with billionaire Carlos Gomez. He didn’t want Gomez to know that he was keeping up with the Organization out of sheer boredom.

Continuing, Gomez said, “This man’s death is related to my future communications efforts.”

Nodding to his daughter, Jake said to Gomez, “When do you need me?”

“As soon as you can get to the airport.”

Despite his semi-retired nature, Jake always kept a stocked Go Bag ready. Just in case.

“Oh,” Gomez said. “Bring some warm clothes.”

“You said the Southern Hemisphere,” Jake reminded the billionaire.

“I know. But this is way south. Tierra del Fuego.”

“Seriously? That’s the end of the Earth.” Jake had been to the extreme southern province of Argentina before. But that was for fishing, not work.

“Well, not exactly the end of the Earth,” Gomez said with a slight chuckle. “But it might be required for you to go to Antarctica.”

“Interesting,” Jake said. “That would be my last continent. What’s going on down there?”

“I’ll explain later,” Gomez said. “I must go. And you need to pack.”

Without further pleasantries, Gomez hung up and Jake took a moment to glance at his SAT phone, knowing that the billionaire’s communications flowed through that device.

“What’s up, Daddy?” Emma asked.

“How’s your Spanish?” Jake asked.

“Better than yours.”

She was right, of course. Sirena had taught Emma Spanish and a half a dozen other languages. Her brother had taught her Russian. And Kadri had worked with her recently on a few more. Jake had taught her German. Luckily, Emma had her brother Karl’s ability to pick up languages like a true polyglot.

“Don’t get cocky,” Jake said. “You still need work on your French and Italian.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She gave him a smile that could melt a father. “Are we going to meet Sirena in Spain?”

“Not exactly,” Jake said. “We’re flying to Argentina.”

“Seriously? When?”

“Now.”

“Now?”

“As soon as you get your Go Bag,” Jake said. “You still have that packed, right?”

“Of course, Daddy. But I’ll need to add a few things. How are the beeches in Argentina?”

“You won’t need a swimsuit,” he said. Then he swished his finger up and down her tall frame. “And while we’re on this subject, from now on when we spar don’t come dressed like some yoga instructor. Put on some damn appropriate clothes.”

She smiled and said, “Maybe we can go shopping in Argentina.”

Wonderful, he thought. Jake was taking his daughter on a murder inquiry and she was looking for clothes shopping. Well, maybe he could keep her out of his world for a little longer and buy her some nice things on the dime of Carlos Gomez.

“Go,” Jake said. “But I’ll be inspecting your bag before we depart.”

She gave him a lame salute and rushed off, yelling over her shoulder, “Finally, I get to go somewhere and use what I’ve learned.”

Jake let out a deep breath of air and shook his head.

3

Madrid, Spain

Sirena leaned back in her chair at the small café overlooking the Plaza Mayor in the heart of Madrid, with King Phillip III sitting on his horse in the center and a few tourists still snapping selfies at this late hour. Most looked well lubricated, Sirena thought, running her fingers through her thick, black hair, and feeling the evening breeze touch her exposed skin.

She had finished her meal with her friend, Maria Vega, and now they were sharing a bottle of Tempranillo red wine. Maria was in the restroom, giving Sirena time to view the post-New Year’s tourists. Most seemed to be continuing their assault on alcohol well into the new year. Her friend Maria was a retired Spanish Intel Officer with National Intelligence Center (CNI), or (Centro Nacional de Inteligencia). Sirena had put her to work periodically with the Gomez Organization, but this trip was all about leisure. A week full of spas and wine for the two girls.

Sirena’s phone suddenly buzzed, so she glanced at the screen and saw it was from Stan’s Pizza in Pascagoula, Mississippi. She shook her head at Jake’s sense of humor as she answered her SAT phone.

“Happy New Year, darling,” Sirena said.

“Same,” he said.

“Pascagoula, Mississippi?”

“I’ve been there,” Jake said. “It’s a decent town.”

“Is that the sound of jet engines in the background? Where are you?”

“Well, you could just track me,” Jake said.

“Or, you could just tell me.”

“We’re flying in a Gomez Gulfstream,” he said.

“We?”

“I have Emma with me.”

“Nice. Finally taking your daughter somewhere?”

“Not exactly,” Jake said. “We’re heading to Tierra del Fuego. A researcher was killed and Gomez wants me to look into it.”

Sirena glanced about to make sure nobody was within listening distance. “What? You’re taking your eighteen-year-old daughter on a mission?”

“It’s not like that,” Jake pled. “I’m just going to Argentina to see what I can do. The guy died at a remote station in Antarctica. Gomez wants me there to keep the local officials honest.”

She leaned back in her chair and saw that her friend was making her way from the bathroom to their outside table. Maria stopped suddenly when a man got in her way.

“I’ve gotta go,” Sirena said. “Call me when you get to the end of the Earth.”

“Roger that. Have fun.”

By the time Sirena put her phone in her pocket and made her way to her friend, a second man was now blocking Maria’s path.

Maria tried to push her way through the two large men, but they stopped her in her tracks.

That was quite the restraint, Sirena thought, as she got behind the two large men.

“You should let my friend pass,” Sirena said in Spanish.

“I don’t think these two speak Spanish,” Maria said, also using her native tongue, as she tried to glance around the two men.

Sirena assessed the men, thinking they didn’t look Latin. Maybe Eastern European, she thought. So, she tried Russian first.

“Back away from my friend,” Sirena said, trying her best Russian with an attempt to tamp down the situation.

The man to Sirena’s right lifted his shirt exposing a handgun inside his waistband. As he went for the gun, Sirena kicked his left knee, buckling him toward the ground. She followed that up with a swift punch to his throat, which took him down to his knees gasping for air.

As the large man hit the floor, Maria punched the other guy in his solar plexus, taking his breath away. Then she planted her right knee into the man’s face, which laid the guy out next to his friend. Both men were desperately struggling to get air as Sirena grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled her out into the Plaza Mayor.

The two of them ran as fast as they could toward a western exit from the square. As Sirena turned left, she slowed slightly to glance back before exiting through an arched entryway. The two men had recovered, had pulled their weapons, and were heading after them.

Their training kicked in now. They needed to put distance between them and their attackers. But how?

A line of taxis a block away was tempting. They could go down into the Metro system. No. That was too restrictive and could trap them.

“Taxi,” Maria said, a little out of breath.

Sirena glanced back again and the men still had not exited the tunnel to the Plaza Mayor.

“Taxi,” Sirena agreed.

They rushed to the front of the line of taxis and jumped in.

Maria sat behind the driver and told the man to drive.

Sirena glanced back, saw the men getting closer, and yelled at the driver. “Go now, you idiot!”

The driver wasn’t happy, but he put the car in gear and pulled out into light traffic.

Looking back in the rearview mirror, the driver asked, “Donde?”

“Solo conduce,” Sirena said. Just drive. “Do you speak English?”

“A little,” the driver said.

Sirena glanced at her friend and ran her known languages through her mind. Maria was fluent in Spanish, Catalan, Italian, English and had working knowledge in a few more.

Saying a simple phrase in Hebrew to the driver, he said nothing and didn’t even glance back. Hebrew it was, Sirena thought. But she would need to keep it simple for her friend.

“Did you ever see those men before?” Sirena asked Maria in Hebrew.

Maria shook her head. “Never.”

The attack could have been a simple coincidence, Sirena thought. Out of town boys see a pretty Spanish woman and want to engage in a conversation. She didn’t believe in these things, though. No, two armed men coming at them like this was not a normal engagement. Besides, the men looked like former intel officers. Sirena knew the type. The men were either former or current intel. But why had they come after them? After all, both Sirena and Maria had been out of the game for a while now.

Sirena tapped the empty seat in front of her and said to the driver in Spanish, “Estacion Madrid. Puerta de Atocha.” They would go to the main train station in Madrid for now. And decide where to go from there.

“What about our hotel?” Maria asked in Hebrew.

“We can go there later,” Sirena said. “In case they can track down this taxi, let them think we took a train out of the city.”

Maria put her hand on Sirena’s hand. “I am glad we are together. But I am confused.”

So was Sirena, but she didn’t intimate that to her friend at this time. They could ask the why later. After they were out of impending danger.

4

Ushuaia, Argentina

Jake and his daughter had flown from Southern Utah on the corporate jet all the way to the tip of South America, with only one stop in Lima, Peru to refuel. While in the air, Jake had gotten word that the Gomez Organization had arranged for a car and a place to stay in a small house on the northern outskirts of the city, on a forested hill overlooking the city below.

Although Emma had slept for much of the flight, she seemed to be dragging as they got into the rental house, which resembled a European log home in the Alps.

“Is it always this hard on the body to travel?” Emma asked, dropping her large bag on the hardwood floor of the main living room.

Jake set his bag down and glanced back to the driveway at their rental vehicle, a black Range Rover SUV. He wished that Sancho and his crew had gotten him something a little less flashy, but they had struck gold with this rental house. It was situated with a wide forest behind them that ran all the way into Tierra del Fuego National Park.

“You’re young, Emma,” Jake said. “But you should stay up until evening in local time.”

She checked her phone and said, “It’s still on Utah time.”

He took her phone and shut it down completely.

“Hey, why’d you do that?” she asked.

“You need to shut down from all the noise in the world,” he explained. “This is a good time for reflection.”

Just then Jake’s phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

“You should take your own advice, Daddy,” she said with a smirk.

The text was from Sirena, who was in Spain with her friend, Maria. The message was cryptic. It read, ‘We had an incident here in Madrid, but we’re okay.’

He calculated the time to Spain and decided not to return the message. Then he changed his mind, remembering he would tell her when they got to Tierra del Fuego. Jake sent her a simple message of support without concern.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, he said, “It’s a text from Sirena, wondering if we got to Argentina yet.”

“Aw,” Emma said. “She misses you. That’s cute.”

Not exactly Jake’s take on the situation. But he said, “Rest but don’t sleep.”

“What about you, old man? You look a little tired.”

“Watch your mouth,” he said. “We could spar. Or I could put you over my knee and spank you.”

Hands on her hips, she said, “You’ve never once spanked me, Daddy.”

“Maybe I should have,” Jake said, not thinking that. She had never given him a reason to consider raising his hand to her.

Emma sat on a leather sofa and leaned back. “Why do they call this place the End of the World?”

He sat on the other side of the sofa and said, “Have you looked at a map?”

“I checked it out on the flight,” she said. “We’re way south.”

“You know this is an island, right?”

She shook her head.

“Chile is a short distance away,” he said. “They own part of this archipelago.”

“We should drive there tomorrow,” Emma said. “I could use another country.”

“As far as I know, there’s no road to Chile,” he said. “You’d have to fly or take a boat.”

“That’s not cool.”

“I promise to get you there on this trip,” he said.

She smiled. “Thanks, Daddy.”

He got up and stretched. Then he put his Go Bag over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“The bedrooms are upstairs. I’m changing into some sweats and tennis shoes and going for a run.”

She got up and said, “I could go with you.”

“Next time. Besides, I’ve seen you run. I don’t know if my old knees can handle that.”

“I’ve seen the scars on your left knee,” she said with concern. “You’ve never told me how you got that.”

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you, Emma.” There was a lot he would never divulge to her. “Trust me it’s nothing crazy. An old football injury acted up in my forties and I had to have it replaced.” A lie, of course. In reality, his knee had been shattered by a bullet in Austria, and the surgeons had rebuilt it.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Only when I run,” he said with a smile. “In reality, I’m not supposed to run, which is why I simply jog slowly. I save the running if a bear is chasing me.”

“Is it metal?”

“Titanium and plastic,” he said. “I had it upgraded a few years back in Switzerland.”

“I remember that trip,” she said. “You told me you hurt your knee skiing.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Emma. There have been times when I’ve had to stretch the truth a little.”

“Lies.”

He really needed to explain to his daughter what he had done for a living all of these years, but he wasn’t sure she could understand it yet.

“Lies and half-truths,” he said. “It’s kind of like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Kids seem more likely to believe that than the fact that Jesus died for all of our sins.”

She laughed and said, “Right. We’re to believe that some fat dude from the North Pole travels around the world on a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer and drops down chimneys delivering presents to children all in one night. Sorry, Daddy, but the truth seems better than that.”

He couldn’t argue with her on that point, yet he still remembered the magic of Christmas morning in his youth.

“I’m going to change and get going,” Jake said. “The bedrooms are upstairs. Leave me the one above this room looking over the driveway.”

She gave him a confused look. “What if the master bedroom is in the back?”

“I don’t care,” Jake said. “I’m here to sleep, not worry about the size of the room.”

“But why do you want to overlook the front?”

“Habit,” he said. “The same reason I sit with my back to the wall in a restaurant.”

“Paranoid much?” she asked.

“Paranoid just enough.” He unzipped his bag and found a 9mm Glock 19 handgun in a holster, along with a second full magazine. He had two identical handguns, along with a compact Glock 43, which he pulled out for himself for the run.

“I didn’t know you brought guns,” she said.

He set one of the Glocks on an end table and said, “I go nowhere with a gun, Emma.”

“Why?”

“The same reason we trained you with every gun in our collective arsenal, dear,” he said. “Just in case.”

“But this place seems like such a nice city,” she pled.

“They’re all nice cities until they aren’t.” He tried on a reassuring smile and added, “Just keep it near you.”

She turned her head sideways, obviously confused. “Why are we here?”

“Because God loves you,” he said. “And I love you.”

“Seriously, Dad.”

“I’ve told you about my sometimes employer, Carlos Gomez.”

“The mega billionaire.”

“Right. Well, one of his people died.” This sounded much better than ‘was murdered.’ “Anyway, I’m here to make sure the local police find out what happened to this man.”

“So, you’re playing detective?” she inquired.

“Not exactly,” Jake said. “Like I said, I’m just here to keep the locals honest. We’ll hang out here a few days until they finish their autopsy, take a few hikes in the nearby national park. Maybe do a little fishing.”

She raised her finger. “And dip a toe into Chile.”

“Right. Go to Chile. I have an idea for that.” He had no idea, but it sounded good.

Finally, she looked satisfied.

“Did you bring a bigger purse than that one?” he asked her.

“Why would I need a bigger one?”

“Are you sure you’re a girl?”

She smiled and said, “Didn’t you change my diapers?”

“A few times,” he admitted. “After your mother died.”

“You need to tell me about my mom,” she demanded.

He hadn’t planned to do so until she got older, but he guessed she was at the right age now. “We’ll talk on this trip. I promise. But not right now. I need to work out and then shower.”

She saluted him with the wrong hand and said, “Yes, sir, Captain Adams.”

Now he wished he hadn’t given her his Air Force background.

Ignoring her insolence, he said, “We’ll go to town later and buy you a purse big enough to hide the Glock.”

“You had me at shopping.”

Yeah, she was a girl.

He grabbed some workout clothes, went into the first-floor bathroom, and changed out quickly. Then he went back out, kissed Emma on her head, and left her, locking the door behind him.

5

Jake started out by simply walking through the neighborhood of single-family homes. The air was crisp and moist, as if the sky were crying.

He made his way to a path that was paved but obviously not used by vehicles. He figured it was probably used by a landowner to drive a small tractor.

Now he picked up his pace, going from a quick walk to a slow jog. Remarkably, his left knee was feeling pretty good. Yet, he didn’t want to push it. His intention was to simply stay awake long enough for nightfall to fend off any jet lag. As he got older, it became more difficult to flip through time zones. But the organization’s private jet helped a lot.

Once he got to a precipice overlooking the city and the harbor below, he slowed his pace and finally came to a halt to take in the view.

Just as he stopped, his SAT phone buzzed. He took it out of his front pocket and saw that the call was from Sirena. Something he couldn’t ignore.

“Yes?” he said.

“No pleasantries,” Sirena said. “I have you about a mile from your current residence. What are you doing?”

“Taking a little jog,” he said. “Why? What’s up?”

“We might have a problem.”

Sirena never got rattled. But her voice showed concern now.

He glanced around him in all directions and then said, “How?”

“I don’t think the attack on me and Maria was a fluke,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

She quickly explained what happened. Then she said, “I talked with Sancho and he said they had a problem in Lisbon.”

“What kind of problem?” Jake asked.

“The cell phone plant manager was beat up and nearly killed,” she said. “He was saved by a police officer on patrol otherwise the guy could have been killed.”

“Is that still Ramos?” Jake asked.

“Yes. Pedro Ramos.”

“We’ve met. He’s a nice fellow.”

“I know.”

One attack could have been an isolated incident, Jake thought. But with Sirena and Maria now attacked, both of whom were on the Gomez payroll as security consultants, that wasn’t normal.

“I hate to ask you this,” Jake started, “but is there any way you could go to Lisbon and check on Ramos?”

“We’re on a train now,” she said.

“Slow or fast?”

“Unfortunately, the slow one.”

After a moment of reflection, Jake said, “Why would they come after the two of you? I mean, you’re not exactly that active in the game.”

“We’ve been wondering that as well,” she said.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck tingled from either the cool breeze or out of concern. Perhaps both.

“How did they know where to find you?”

“No clue,” she said. “What are you thinking?”

“I set up our entire organization security system,” he said. “This is on me.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’ve been inactive for a while now.”

Instinctively, he started walking back toward his rental house. “Let me know what you find in Lisbon.”

“I will. Could the death of your researcher be part of this?”

“Good point,” he said. “I’ll be talking with the local police tomorrow morning. Hopefully they’ll let me check out the body.”

“It would help if you were more fluent in Spanish.”

“Emma is fluent,” Jake said.

“True. But can you bring her in to see a dead body?”

He picked up his pace as a revelation rushed through his mind.

“What are you thinking, Jake?”

“What if someone is coming for me?” he asked.

“How would they know you’re even there?”

“Only if someone has hacked our system. Gotta go.”

“Love you,” she said.

But he barely heard that as he tapped off the call and shoved his SAT phone into his pocket. Now he started to run back toward his rental house.

•

Emma had just gotten out of the shower, toweled off, and got into a pair of sweats and a Denver Broncos T-shirt. She stepped along the hardwood floors with bare feet and hesitated for a moment when she thought she heard something downstairs. Her dad must have cut his jog short, she thought. Made sense, since he was getting old. She laughed at that thought.

She put in wireless earbuds and put on some of her father’s old-school rock and roll from a time when dinosaurs roamed the earth. As she rocked to Tom Sawyer by Rush, she headed down the stairs and considered a cup of tea. No, a Coke would help keep her awake, she thought.

Getting to the first level, she paused at the bottom of the stairs, thinking she heard something else. She turned off the music and stepped slowly toward the main living area, her phone still in her hand.

“Daddy?” she said softly. Then she glanced at the end table next to the sofa, where she had left the Glock 19 her dad had left for her. It wasn’t there.

Now her senses were heightened as she stepped into the center of the living room. She glanced at her phone considering a quick text to her father. Before she could pull up her father’s contact info, she saw movement to her left.

A man suddenly appeared from the first-floor bathroom. Was he the owner of the house?

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked.

The man hesitated briefly and then stepped closer to her.

Emma asked the same question in Spanish. But the man continued toward her. Her instincts kicked in.

The man rushed her now.

Her first blow was a strike with her foot into the man’s stomach, buckling him over slightly. She followed that up with a knee to the man’s sternum.

She had been concentrating on this attacker when she was struck from behind in the center of her shoulder blades. She swiveled her hips and sent her right heel into this man’s chest, shoving him backwards a few steps.

Then she backed away, giving herself some distance. Her father always said it was okay to run, but she had no idea where she would go. Her eyes shifted around the room looking for a weapon. But this place was sparsely appointed. Where was her gun?

Both men came at her at once now, and she did her best to punch each of them in the face and neck. Anywhere she could find a target. They were too much for her, though. Finally, one of the men struck her in the stomach and knocked her to the floor.

Then both men stood over her and drew their guns, aiming them right at her chest and head. Laying on her back, she covered her face with both hands, her elbows over her torso.

The men were laughing and speaking something, but Emma couldn’t understand everything. She did pick up a couple of words, though.

The first gunshot startled her. Then came three more in quick succession.

She tried to discern how she wasn’t feeling hurt. Is this how it felt to get shot? No pain?

Then came the distinct sound of two crashes at her feet, like massive sacks of potatoes against wood.

When she heard the soft sound of footsteps coming her way, she uncovered her eyes and glanced up.

There stood her father with his gun sweeping the room for additional targets.

“Are you alright, Emma?” Jake asked, with heavy breathing.

She raised herself up onto her elbows and saw that her pants were spattered with blood. Her instincts were to jump to her feet and rush to her dad to hug him.

“Don’t move,” her dad said. “Let me clear the house.”

Emma watched her father go quickly through the house. Then he rushed upstairs and she could hear him go from room to room. Within a minute he had swept the entire house and was back downstairs.

Now he glanced out to the front driveway. Satisfied, he slipped his compact Glock 43 into the holster inside the waistband at the small of his back.

“Can I get up now, Daddy?” she asked.

Her father was in deep concentration now, obviously considering their options.

“We’ve got to go, Emma.”

“Go where,” she said. “I was attacked. This was self-defense.”

“Argentina has a different idea about things like this,” he said. “We can explain ourselves for days and they could still charge us. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to sit in a jail in this town for months.”

She got to her knees and then looked at her forearms, which also had blood all over them.

“Get upstairs and shower with your clothes on,” Jake said. “Then wring out those clothes and put them in a plastic bag. Once you’re dressed, bring your bag down here. Try to remember anything you might have touched in the house.”

She nodded understanding and tiptoed upstairs.

•

Once Jake heard Emma showering upstairs, he checked the two bodies for identification. Nothing. But they did have cell phones. He collected those, shoving one in his pocket while he opened the other. It wanted a fingerprint, so he shoved the dead guy’s right index finger onto the screen and it opened. Once he was in, he turned off the security so he could check out the phone freely.

First, he checked the dead guy’s text feed. There was only one conversation on it. That was strange. He took out his phone and sent the number for this phone and the other contact to Gomez Organization security office to let Sancho and his team track it down. Then he did the same thing with the second dead man’s phone, sending his contact to Sancho also.

What did the texts say? They were cryptic at best. But he did understand his own name and the address for this rental house. Jake was targeted directly. Instead, they found his daughter, who gave them more than they might have expected. But Emma was lucky to be alive. And that sent a level of adrenaline and pissed off through his body that he hadn’t felt in years. They almost killed his baby.

Then he looked closer at one of the texts and saw the words ‘El este aici’ just before the address. That meant ‘He is here.’ What language? Romanian. What the hell were two Romanians doing at the End of the World trying to kill him?

He quickly texted Sirena telling her what had gone down and she fired back immediately, saying to get the hell out of there.

Jake heard the shower end upstairs and he went around the first level wiping down anything that could have their prints on it.

Then, as Emma was coming down the stairs, Jake went back to the two dead guys and he did a more thorough check of their bodies. That’s when he found his own Glock 19, the one he had given to his daughter to protect herself, clipped to one man’s belt at the base of his back. He then checked out the guns the men had brought with them. They were identical Taurus GX4s in 9mm. Subcompacts easy to conceal, like his own Glock 43. He took both guns.

“What are you doing, Daddy,” Emma asked, her Go Bag over her shoulder and a small plastic bag set onto the floor with her wet clothes inside.

Jake handed her the Glock 19 and said, “I told you to keep this close.”

“I took a shower,” she said. “You want me to take it in there with me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This must be difficult for you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Strangely enough, it doesn’t seem to bother you that you just killed two men.”

Maybe it was past time that he explained his background to Emma. For now, he said, “Let’s just get out of here and find another place to stay. Did you touch anything upstairs.”

She thought for a moment and shrugged.

His mind quickly went to the shower handle and all of the door handles on the second floor.

“Never mind,” he said. He took the Glock from her and clipped it to her right hip, covering it with her jacket. “Stand here and don’t move. I’ll get my bag and clean the upstairs of prints.”

It took him less than five minutes to sweep the second level of any possible prints left by his daughter. He wasn’t too concerned about himself, since the U.S. government would still flag any inquiry about his prints and bring back no returns. But his daughter wasn’t in any system in the world and he wanted to keep her that way.

Back downstairs, Jake ushered his daughter to the front porch and wiped down everything on his way out. Then they piled into the rental Range Rover and Jake drove away slowly.

Luckily nobody had called in shots fired.

6

Extremely cautious now, Jake found a house for rent on the western edge of Ushuaia, near Tierra del Fuego National Park. He agreed to rent the cabin-like home completely surrounded by forest using an online app. But, of course, he did so using an old Austrian persona and an untraceable credit card.

He drove the Range Rover to the front of the cabin as the sun seemed to be setting on the tip of South America.

Jake glanced over at Emma, who was shivering. “Are you alright,” he asked her.

She tried to nod her head. “I’m cold. This place is damp.”

Cold wasn’t her problem, he knew. Her adrenaline had spiked and now she was coming down off that natural high.

“You’ll warm up soon,” Jake said. “This place has a fireplace. I’ll get a fire going.”

Glancing at the front porch, an older man came out and stood with his hands on his hips. The guy was completely gray and wore frumpy wool clothes that tried to cover his corpulence.

“Grab your bag,” Jake said. “And keep that gun covered with your jacket.”

She nodded understanding.

They got out, slung their bags over their shoulders, and headed toward the man on the porch. This was an old school place with an actual key that had to be handed over to Jake.

Although he hadn’t used his Austrian accent in English or Spanish for a while, he introduced himself and his daughter, who he called Greta.

“This is late notice,” the owner said in English.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said. “We were going to stay elsewhere but were double booked with a young couple and two children. We let them take the place. I hope this is not an inconvenience.”

“Not at all,” the man said. “Here is your key.”

Jake took the old key and gave the man an upturn of his chin. Nothing too friendly. After all, Austrians were friendly enough. Just not upon first meeting people.

The man waddled down the front steps and got into an old beat up Volkswagen Golf. Seconds later, Jake and Emma were alone on the porch.

“Strange man,” Emma said. “And when did you come up with a German accent?”

“Before you were born,” Jake said. “And technically it was Austrian.”

They went in and Jake set his bag on the hardwood floors. Although this place wasn’t as nice as the first house, it was more advantageous in a number of ways. First, it was low tech. Plus, it was off the beaten path. According to the online profile, the house was mostly used by tourists heading into the park for day hikes.

“This isn’t as nice as the last place,” Emma complained as she put her bag down.

“Well, at least it doesn’t have dead bodies in the living room,” he quipped.

She put her hands on her hips and said, “You really know how to treat your daughter. Come along to South America. It’s the End of the World. It’s summer down there. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

“Do I sense a high level of smartassery?”

“I learned from the best, Daddy.” She put way too much emphasis on Daddy.

“Are you still cold? Or do you have a sufficient level of your mother’s Germanic ire warming that tall body of yours?”

She stamped her right foot. “Why is it you never talk about my mother unless you’re saying something negative?”

He swished his head side to side and couldn’t help realizing his daughter was right. “I’m sorry, Emma. I’ve been waiting until you were the right age to talk about her.”

“I’m old enough,” she said. “Old enough to carry this gun apparently.” Emma tapped her right hand on the Glock on her right hip.

Damn it. She had a point, he thought. “Alright. You start a fire in the fireplace. I have to take care of some business right now.”

“Business? I thought you were retired.”

“Partially retired,” he explained. “Sort of retired. Semi-retired. Whatever. Just start the damn fire.”

She shook her head and went to the large fireplace built from smooth river stones, and she started to gather wood and kindling.

While she did this, Jake took out his SAT phone and pulled up the camera. Then, taking out one of the phones he had taken off one of the dead men, he found a folder with photos on it. He would have simply taken a photo of their faces, but the bullets he had put in their skull had made that nearly impossible. Pulling up an image of one man, he took a photo of this with his phone. He did the same with the second man. Then he sent both photos to Sancho at the Gomez Organization and told him to run the faces through every European database. He didn’t mention the fact that the men might be Romanian. He needed Sancho to cast a wider net in case he was wrong about them.

Then he texted Sirena and told her she needed to also go to Porto in Portugal to dig into a possible leak in their organization.

He expected to hear back from her almost immediately, but that didn’t happen. Maybe she was asleep, he thought.

While Emma was getting the fire to go, Jake went over the information Carlos Gomez had sent him about the death of his Swiss researcher Gerhard Burk. Jake didn’t really believe in coincidences. Was everything connected? Why was this man killed? Why attack the manager of a cell phone plant in Lisbon? Why did someone attack Sirena and Maria? Some of these answers would come in the morning when he talked with the local police.

The fire was going strong now and Emma stood back, mesmerized by the flames and the crackling wood.

“Come sit down,” Jake said.

Emma came over to the leather sofa and nuzzled up to Jake, leaning her head against his shoulder. “What’s going on, Daddy?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out,” he said. “First, though, I need to tell you about your mother.”

He went through vague details about her mother and how she was a dedicated German intelligence officer with the BND, or the Federal Intelligence Service of Germany. He explained how the two of them had met while working, but he didn’t mention details about what they had actually done as intel officers.

“How did she die?” Emma asked.

“She was killed at our home on the Italian coast,” Jake said.

“How?”

“I can’t get into that,” Jake said. “It’s too difficult. Let’s just say she was shot and there was a fire. I got you out of there.”

“Who would do such a thing?” she asked.

Now he simply shook his head, knowing he had tracked down everyone involved and made them pay for the death of Alexandra.

“You saved me?” she asked, glancing up at him with tears in her eyes.

His phone suddenly buzzed and he picked it up from the coffee table in front of him. The text was from Sancho. That was fast.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The identity of the two men.” He hesitated and then added, “The dead guys.”

She sat up straight now. “Who are they?”

He wanted to lie to her and tell her they were bad guys from Europe. But he went with the truth.

“Both of them were former intelligence officers with SIE,” he said. “That’s the Foreign Intelligence Service of Romania.”

“How do you know this?” she asked.

“I’ve given you a lot of hints over the years,” Jake said.

“You were a spy, right?” she asked hopefully.

“I was Air Force Intelligence before working for the CIA,” he said.

“Cool.” Then she thought for a moment. “That’s how you met my mother. Wait, and that’s how you met Sirena, right?”

“Sirena’s story is more complex,” Jake said.

“She told me she was first a citizen of Israel,” Emma said. “And spent some time in the Israeli Defense Forces. That’s where she learned to fly helicopters.”

“That’s right. She didn’t mention anything else to you?”

“She mentioned once about alphabet agencies,” Emma said, trying her best to recall anything from the past.

Jake smiled. “She’s worked for everyone from the CIA, the FBI, the NSA, to name just a few. I won’t go into any detail, since that’s her story to tell.”

“When did you start working for Mister Gomez?” she asked.

“After leaving the Agency, I started a private security consulting company,” he said. “But I kept getting pulled back into the CIA for various reasons. Never get involved with any of those assholes. They’ll suck your soul dry.”

She gave him a reassuring nod.

“Anyway, Gomez had me work a job, he liked what I did, so he offered me an exclusive gig.”

“Weren’t you just exchanging the Devil for Satan?” she asked with a smirk.

“You’ve been watching too much news about Gomez,” Jake said. “He’s not a bad guy. Otherwise I wouldn’t have worked for him for so long. Or got your brother involved with his organization.”

This got Emma thinking. She was obviously confused. “So, was Karl also a spy?”

Crap! She had her mother’s instincts. “Karl was Army Intelligence.”

There was no way he could mention how Karl had worked for the CIA and went undercover for years in the Russian SVR, becoming one of their best officers. According to both the CIA and SVR, Karl was dead. He needed it to remain that way.

“That’s enough for now,” Jake said. “I need to focus on why two former Romanian intel officers tried to kill me.”

“You mean me,” Emma said.

“You too. But they were gunning for me. You were just in their way.” He needed to know who sent them and why. “But now you need to get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” She got up and wandered around the small cabin. In less than a minute she came back looking confused. “There’s only one bedroom and one bed.”

“I know,” Jake said. Then he slapped his hand down on the leather sofa. “This is my bed.”

“You’re old,” she said. “You should take the bed.”

“No. If someone else comes for me, I want to be right here to intercept them.”

She bit her lower lip. “Is that possible?”

“Anything’s possible, dear. Get some rest.”

She picked up her bag and went back to the bedroom.

Jake sat for a moment and considered his current situation. Part of him wanted to contact Karl to warn him about potential hazards, but he realized that Karl and Kadri had actually taken Jake’s advice by not telling anyone where he was going. More importantly, the two of them had gone to Asia old school, without a single electronic device. How would they survive? He smiled at that thought.

Emma suddenly showed up again, her arms across her chest. “Two things,” she said. “First, I’m hungry.”

Jake went to his bag and pulled out a package of beef jerky. “This should hold you until morning.”

“One more thing,” she said. “I saw a mouse.”

“Well, don’t feed him the damn jerky or you’ll never get rid of him.”

She shook her head skeptically.

“Emma, you’ve lived on a ranch most of your life,” Jake said. “You can’t be afraid of a little mouse.”

“You can be a real butthole, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said. “Just don’t shoot the mouse. I’ll kill the vermin.”

She started chewing on some jerky and went away shaking her head.

Kids, he thought. Two men try to kill her and she’s worried about a little mouse.

7

Lisbon, Portugal

After getting off the overnight train from Madrid to Lisbon, Sirena and Maria took a cab directly to Hospital de Santa Teresa, the fourth best hospital in the city.

Sirena kept an eye out for anyone following them, but so far she hadn’t seen a thing. Their path was eerily uneventful.

“You look tired,” Maria said to Sirena as the two of them rode the elevator to the sixth floor, their travel bags over their shoulders.

“That’s never a good thing for a friend to say,” Sirena reminded her.

“I probably look worse,” Maria said. “How do you want to handle this?”

“He was in intensive care for only a day,” Sirena said. “So it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Agreed. Still, we need to find out what happened.”

Sirena nodded. “I’ll talk with the guy.”

On the sixth floor there wasn’t really a proper waiting room. The wide corridor had uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs with only a few people occupying them.

“Have you met this guy?” Maria asked.

“I have,” Sirena said. “Jake and I met him at a meeting in Porto a few years back. Ironically, we were discussing security measures.”

They came to the man’s room, and Sirena glanced through a narrow window at a single bed in the center of the room. This was a unit with all private rooms, but Sirena knew other parts of the hospital had at least two patients each. Carlos Gomez knew how to take care of his people.

Sirena backed across the hallway and set her bag on two chairs. Maria put hers on top of Sirena’s and plopped down on a chair next to them, with a prime view of the injured man’s room.

Before entering the room, Sirena opened her jacket and adjusted her gun on her right hip. Satisfied, she pushed through the door and went into the room.

Pedro Ramos tried to sit up in his bed when he saw Sirena enter, but he couldn’t make it up to the full upright position. His face was bruised and bandaged. Both arms were also wrapped in bandages. His right leg was broken and in a blue cast and pulled up in traction.

He smiled when he recognized Sirena. “I am so glad to see you,” Pedro said in nearly perfect English. He tried to glance around her. “Is your man with you?”

“Afraid not,” she said. “Why?”

Almost relieved, Pedro said, “He is a very intense man. I am afraid if I had encountered Jake I would be in much worse shape.”

She held back a smile. “Someone would be making funeral arrangements.”

“But I have no one,” Pedro said. “No wife. No children. No family at all.”

Sirena moved around the right side of the bed, so now she also had a view of the door. “Tell me what happened.”

He raised his hand and nearly pulled out his IV.

She moved the IV pole a little closer to the bed.

Pedro smiled and nodded. “I was at home Friday night watching an old movie, when two men came to my door. They said they were Policia. Stupidly, I opened the door and asked to see some identification.”

“They were in civilian clothes?” Sirena asked.

“Yes, they were.”

“Let me guess,” she said. “They pushed in and struck you.”

“They did,” Pedro said. “Like I said, I was stupid.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “What did they ask of you? What did they want?”

Now the man seemed to be very nervous. Beads of perspiration bubbled up on his forehead.

“Answer my question,” Sirena demanded.

Pedro was obviously considering his words carefully. Finally, he said, “They didn’t want money.” He swished his head and then lowered his chin to his chest and started to sob.

What could be so devastating, she wondered. Besides the fact that he was beaten nearly senseless. But she waited for him to speak again.

After he caught his breath, Pedro finally said, “They wanted passwords.”

“Passwords to what?” she asked.

“Company passwords,” he said. “Access to our system.”

Crap! She quickly pulled out her phone and moved toward the window, turning her back to the man. She started to type a text, but then decided this needed a call.

Sancho Eneko, their computer whiz at the Gomez Organization security headquarters in Porto, Portugal, picked up and said, “I see you made it to Lisbon. When did you plan on telling me you were attacked in Madrid?”

She was never sure how Sancho knew these things, so she skipped over his remarks. “Listen. I’m with Pedro Ramos right now at the hospital. He says the men who beat him got access to our system.”

“Highly doubtful,” Sancho said.

Sirena heard a comment in the background and she knew this came from the youngest member of their team, Josie Ertz. “What did she say?” Sirena asked.

“She said there could be a backdoor entry vulnerability,” Sancho said.

“Is she right?”

After a brief pause, Sancho said, “Technically, she’s right. We always give ourselves a way to access the system.”

“In case someone gets in and tries to lock you out,” Sirena said.

“Wow,” Sancho said. “You’re not just pretty, you’re smart.”

Sirena ignored him. “Can you see if anyone has been in our system who’s not allowed in there?”

“It’ll take a while,” Sancho said.

Then from the background, Josie said, “I’m on it, Sirena.”

“All right,” Sirena said. “Is there any reason for me to visit our cell phone plant here in Lisbon?”

“Only if Pedro gave the men access to the facility.”

Sirena turned to Pedro and said, “You only gave the men access to your computer accounts?”

Pedro said, “That’s all they wanted. And to beat me senseless. They say I was out cold for hours.”

They probably thought they killed him, Sirena thought. Then they immediately accessed the Gomez system before the man could notify anyone.

Sirena gave Pedro a nod and turned back toward the window. She heard typing in the background, so Sirena asked Sancho, “Where are we?”

“I just locked down the entire system,” Sancho said. “We’ll use secondary protocols to contact our security personnel and have them change passwords. I don’t have contact for a few people. Can you handle them?”

She knew that Sancho meant Jake, his son Karl, and Karl’s girlfriend, Kadri. Karl and Kadri were off the grid, and Jake was somewhere at the End of the World. But she had another way to contact Jake.

“Let me know when you find out about the breech,” Sirena said.

“Roger that,” Sancho said.

She turned back toward Pedro and while she gave him a concerned stare, she took out the SIM card on her phone. She would have to get a new one from her bag out in the corridor, and also prompt Maria to swap out her own. Then they would all need to switch to a new VPN.

Pedro said, “Am I in big trouble?”

“You should have told us sooner,” she said.

“I was in Intensive Care until this morning,” he pled. “Please make sure Jake knows this.”

She was about to tell Pedro that Jake nearly lost his daughter, but then she remembered that Emma’s very existence was a secret.

Instead, Sirena said, “You told me now. Hopefully these men haven’t done too much damage.”

Walking to the door, Sirena stopped and thought for a second. Why did they let this man live? Perhaps all they wanted was information, and that didn’t warrant an innocent man’s life. Interesting. Bad guys with a moral code.

She went out into the corridor and Maria got up, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Everything alright?” Maria asked.

Sirena slung her bag over her shoulder and said, “We’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

“I would guess so,” Maria said. “I just got a shut down alert.”

“Let’s get a hotel and regroup,” Sirena said.

“I know a good place.”

“The Palace Hotel?”

“How did you guess?”

“Jake took me there years ago,” Sirena said. “It’s a lovely place.”

“But expensive,” Maria reminded her.

“Gomez is a billionaire. He can afford it.”

“I like the way you think.”

As they walked down the corridor toward the two elevators, Sirena noticed two men get out and freeze in their tracks when they saw her and Maria.

Instinctively, Sirena drew her weapon and aimed it at the two men before they could pull their own guns. A couple of women screamed. Everyone scattered like rats from the corridor, ducking into rooms and down stairwells.

Maria drew her own gun and trained it on the largest of the two men—the one who had stepped in front of her in Madrid.

The two men rushed into the nearest open elevator and hit the doors closed on them just as Sirena and Maria reached them.

“Were they here to finish the job on our man?” Maria asked.

“No,” Sirena said. “I think they were here for us. They won’t be able to track us anymore, though.” She hoped she was right.

They went to the far end of the corridor and exited the building using the stairs.

8

Ushuaia, Argentina

Jake took his daughter Emma to breakfast at a small restaurant a few blocks from the Policía Federal Argentina in the central part of the city, three blocks from the waterfront. They had watched fishing boats leave from the port and a few small planes take off in the hour they had spent eating pastries and drinking coffee. Emma had still not acquired a taste for coffee, so she had gotten her caffeine from Coke.

Now, having walked the three blocks to the main police station in Ushuaia, Jake and Emma waited at the front desk for an escort into the office of the police inspector in charge of the homicide investigation of researcher Gerhard Burk.

Sancho had forwarded Jake a dossier on Inspector Luca Campo, which Jake had studied before the meeting.

Getting to the man’s office, Inspector Campo met the two of them in the center of the room. He was a short stocky man of fifty-two, with just enough gray at his temples to let people know he had experience in life and police work. But the man looked confused when Jake introduced Emma to the inspector as his assistant. No reason to let anyone know he had a daughter. Since Emma was a good six inches taller than the inspector, she could pass for much older than her eighteen years.

“I understand you are a representative of Carlos Gomez,” Campo said as he went back around to the chair behind his desk. His English was pristine, with more of an Italian accent attached to his words. Since Jake knew the man’s family had emigrated to Argentina over forty years ago, this made sense to him.

Jake remained standing, as did his daughter. He said, “Yes, sir. As you can imagine, Mister Gomez is extremely concerned about the death of his researcher.”

“Yes,” Campo said. “This is completely understandable.”

After an uncomfortable minute of silence, Jake asked, “Have you had a chance to look at the body.”

“Not yet,” the inspector said.

“The crime scene?” Jake asked.

“That is far away at the Antarctic station.”

“I don’t expect you to drive there,” Jake said.

Emma gave a barely audible chuckle, which Jake stopped with a fatherly glare.

“What I meant to say,” Campo said, “was that the flights to the station have been shut down for a couple of days. We only got the body yesterday afternoon by boat.”

“Is the autopsy done?” Jake asked.

“Moments before you came to the station, I got a call from the doctor saying he had finished with the preliminary assessment,” Campo said. “Of course, it will take some time for tissue samples.”

Jake’s intel said the man’s neck had been snapped. Not much need for blood or tissue analysis. “I must see the body,” Jake said.

The inspector hesitated, a skeptical look on his round face. “That is highly unusual.”

“So is having the leading research scientist murdered at a remote station in Antarctica,” Jake said. “But here we are.”

“You are not police,” Campo said.

Jake pulled out his phone and noticed his phone wasn’t picking up the Gomez SAT network. Regardless, he said, “I call billionaire Carlos Gomez. He calls the President of Argentina. The President calls the Ministry of Security. Eventually the calls work their way down the chain of command to your desk. Then you’ll be forced to show me the body. Let’s save everyone that inconvenience. After all, the man is dead. What could I possibly do to change that fact?”

Campo got up from his chair and nodded his approval. “Follow me.”

“The morgue is in this building?” Jake asked.

“A building half a block away,” Campo said. “In our best hospital in Ushuaia.”

The stocky man led them out of the police department and said nothing until they were across the street heading toward the hospital.

Campo said, “I am not trying to be difficult.”

“I know,” Jake said. “We all have our jobs to do.”

“You are American?” Campo asked.

Jake shook his head and said, “Austrian.”

Stopping short and staring at Jake, Campo said, “Our victim was Swiss.”

“That’s right.”

“You don’t have much of an Austrian accent,” Campo said.

“About as much as your Italian accent,” Jake said without smiling.

They started walking again.

Campo said, “You have checked my background.”

“I like to know who I’m dealing with,” Jake said. “But at least the word on the street is you’re a good cop with an impeccable record.”

“I don’t know about that,” Campo said. “Otherwise why would they send me here to Ushuaia?”

“You requested this post because of your ex-wife,” Jake said. “When she died from cancer two years ago, that left you here with your young daughter.”

“You did your homework,” Campo said. “However, my daughter is now twenty and has moved to Buenos Aires.”

“If you solve this case, they could assign you to BA,” Jake said. “I’ll make sure of that.”

The squat inspector stopped at the front entrance of the hospital and studied Jake carefully. “I kind of like it here.”

They went inside and the inspector led them down the main corridor, down the staircase to a basement level, and to a secure door. Campo glanced through a safety window and was buzzed in.

“Jake,” came a familiar voice behind him. Emma smiled and said, “Perhaps I should wait out here.”

“Your assistant is a little squeamish,” Campo said, holding the door for Jake and Emma.

“She’s not used to dead bodies,” Jake explained. But he didn’t want her out in the corridor alone. Not with the potential of killers still heading their way. “It’ll be fine,” he said to Emma.

Inside the dank interior of the morgue, only a few lights were lit over the table with a fully naked body.

Jake pointed for his daughter to go to a corner of the room where a couple of chairs sat by a small desk. Emma took one of the chairs and didn’t look at the dead guy.

Campo introduced the medical examiner to Jake. Then the ME went through his findings. As expected, the man had nothing of significance to tell Jake or the police inspector. Gerhard Burk had been attacked from behind, probably put into a choke hold, and then the assailant snapped the man’s neck.

Jake got down close to the man’s neck and looked carefully at the bruising in the front. The way Burk’s head was positioned on the rubber slab, Jake could tell that wasn’t normal.

The doctor brought Jake to a nearby light screen, which showed that Burk’s neck was obviously broken. Even Jake could see that.

“Doesn’t look like defensive wounds,” Jake said.

“He might have been wearing gloves,” the doctor said. “He was wearing a lighter parka without the liner. It’s about as warm as summer gets down there.”

Turning to Campo, Jake asked, “Did someone take photos of the scene?”

“The station manager did,” Campo said. Then he pulled out his phone and opened a folder before handing the phone to Jake.

After quickly looking over the crime scene photos, which looked like they were taken by a blind three-year-old, Jake handed back the inspector’s phone.

“Those aren’t very helpful,” Jake admitted.

“I agree,” Campo said.

Jake thought for a moment before saying, “I understand the killer got there on a flight from Ushuaia.”

“He did. I have already talked with the pilot and the other man on the flight.”

“And?”

After a pause of incertitude, Campo said, “The man used a fake identification. He said he was only going to Gomez Station for a short meeting.”

“To kill Burk,” Jake said.

“Apparently.”

Jake suspected there was nothing more to discover here. As he was about to gather his daughter and leave, Inspector Campo got a call on his cell phone.

Although Jake could understand and speak Spanish, his skills with that language were not perfect. After the police inspector got off the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, he started swearing in Italian. Jake picked up on all of that.

“Is everything alright, inspector?” Jake asked Campo.

“Not exactly,” Campo said. “Two bodies were discovered this morning in a rental house at the edge of town. Now I have two more homicides to investigate.”

Jake did his best to not react to this news, considering he had shot both men in self-defense. “Do you have many homicides in Ushuaia?”

Campo shook his head. “Murder is very rare. Most of my job is dealing with theft and occasional robbery. Homicide is usually domestic related and does not involve firearms. But these might be different.”

“It’s difficult to escape,” Jake reasoned. “I’m sure you should be heading out. Thank you for your help.”

The police inspector simply smiled, shook Jake’s hand, and hurried out of the morgue.

Jake nearly left, but then he turned to the medical examiner and asked, “How tall is our victim?”

“One hundred and ninety centimeters,” the doctor said. “Why?”

Calculating that into inches, Jake came up with about six feet tall. “For someone to choke out and snap the neck of a man this tall, the killer would have to be fairly tall, right?”

“Or very strong,” the doctor said. “To pull the man down to his level.”

Jake thought about the two men who had attacked his daughter, and Jake had been forced to kill. Those two men were average height. Definitely sub-six feet. And they didn’t appear to be very strong. But Jake also knew that he had choked out men much taller than himself. Yet, he thought it best to assume the killer was still out in the community somewhere and was not one of the two dead men in his former rental house.

Thanking the doctor, Jake collected Emma and led her out of the hospital to find their rental vehicle parked down near the waterfront.

About a half a block away from the hospital, Emma finally said, “I thought it would be worse than that.”

“That was a pretty corpse, Emma. They’re not always that pristine.”

“Did you pick up on the inspector’s conversation on the cell phone,” she asked.

“Part of it,” Jake said. “Why?”

“He asked for clarification,” Emma said. “A neighbor witnessed a man and woman leaving the house in a Range Rover.”

Jake stopped in his tracks in deep thought. He knew it was a problem getting such a nice, rare vehicle in a place like Ushuaia.

“Great,” Jake said. “Time for a new vehicle. Have you ever trashed a perfectly good SUV?”

“You know I haven’t, Daddy,” she said, appalled.

“First time for everything,” Jake said. “Let’s go.”

As he walked toward the rental car, he remembered the fact that his phone no longer worked. Checking his phone, he finally understood that the Gomez Organization had implemented one of Jake’s security protocols. He dug into his pocket and found a new SIM, which he swapped out for the old one. Then he casually dropped the old SIM into a storm drain before crossing the street.

When he got to the rental vehicle, a text message came through on his SAT phone. It was from Sirena, and it simply read, ‘Protocol 3.’

If the two dead men didn’t already warn him enough, Jake understood now. Trust nothing. Trust nobody. He was on his own.

Getting behind the wheel of the SUV, Jake let out a deep breath.

“Is everything alright, Daddy?” Emma asked.

Calming himself as he pressed the On Button, he said, “Everything’s fine, dear.”

He hated to lie to Emma, but sometimes it was necessary.

9

Lisbon, Portugal

Sirena and Maria had narrowly escaped the two men at the hospital. Instead of traveling to the nice, large hotel they both wanted, Sirena had found a boutique hotel at the base of the mountain where St. George’s Castle loomed above them. From their window on the third floor, Sirena could look out over the square that led to the Lisbon Cathedral.

Clouds and darkness shrouded the city in a gloom of despair, with rain threatening to come soon.

“What are you thinking?” Maria asked, having come out from her shower rubbing down her long dark hair.

Sirena glanced at her friend in the reflection of the window. Maria was completely naked.

“I can’t help but think about how those men found us so easily,” Sirena said. Then she turned and watched her friend slip into a black thong and pull a black t-shirt over her top.

Maria sat on the edge of the only bed in the room. “That should be fixed now with the protocol change.”

“Not exactly,” Sirena said. “Much of what we do is linked to the Gomez Organization. We used an organization credit card for this place.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Maria said, falling to her back and propping herself up onto her elbows. “Do you really think someone got that deep into our system?”

Sirena crossed the room and sat next to her friend. “I don’t know. But we should assume the worst.” Now she wished she had paid for this room with her private credit card. Unfortunately, it was nearly impossible to find a place to stay with cash anywhere in Europe. She and Jake had set up several private credit accounts that were as secure as possible. But nothing that was held on a computer was entirely safe.

“Where do we go from here?” Maria asked. “I’m supposed to be cutting back on my time.”

“As long as you’re still on the Gomez payroll, we push forward to discover what’s going on,” Sirena said.

“I didn’t mean I wanted to stop,” Maria said. “I was just stating a point. Trust me, I’m so glad you got me into this job. I was nearly ready to eat my gun in Malaga, or at least drink myself to death.”

She knew her friend had been having a hard time after her retirement from Spanish National Intelligence, but Sirena had no idea her depression had reached that level.

Putting her hand on Maria’s thigh, Sirena said, “I’m so sorry you were not happy. How are you now?”

Maria smiled and said, “I feel alive. Maybe I’m best when my life is in danger. In fact, I’m feeling a little horny.”

Sirena pulled her hand from her friend’s bare skin.

“No, I didn’t mean with you,” Maria said. “You know I like only men. I’m just saying, I could use and abuse a nice young man right now.”

“I miss Jake also,” Sirena said.

“He is a hot man,” Maria agreed.

“Maybe we should talk about moving forward.”

“Agreed. Where next?”

Before Sirena could answer, her phone suddenly buzzed and she saw that it was from Jake.

Maria saw the screen and said, “Is he listening to our conversation?”

Shaking her head, Sirena said, “Not this time. He said he’s changed his SIM and is dumping his rental vehicle.”

“Does he need to get out of Argentina?”

“He won’t go until he’s finished the job,” Sirena said. “Nothing intimidates him.”

“I have seen his resolve,” Maria said. “I would hate to be on the other end of his gun.”

Sirena agreed in silence, watching her SAT phone screen for a response back from Jake. When her phone finally buzzed in her hand, she saw the text come in from Jake, ‘Police have found two down. Have seen the body of the first guy.’

‘Be careful,’ Sirena texted back.

‘You too,’ Jake texted. ‘Might have to go to Antarctica.’

Sirena texted, ‘Emma will like that.’

‘Trying to figure out how to send her home. Don’t know what’s safe.’

‘You’ll figure it out,’ she said. ‘Time to sleep.’

Sirena got off her phone and set it on the nightstand next to her.

“He’s worried about his daughter,” Maria suggested.

Her friend was one of only a few select people in the Gomez Organization who knew of the existence of Emma Adams.

Lying back against her pillow, Sirena said, “She’s too young to be dealing with stuff this serious.”

“Can’t Karl keep track of her for a while,” Maria asked.

Unsure how to answer this, Sirena finally said, “Karl and his family are away on vacation.”

“I see. There is nobody else?”

“Not really.” Sirena didn’t want to mention Jake’s sister in Alaska or his brother in Montana. She wasn’t sure if Maria knew of their existence, and there was no good reason to divulge that now. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend, but Sirena knew that privacy was tantamount to security.

Sirena’s phone buzzed again. This time it was a call. She saw that it came from a place called Jokinen from Helsinki, Finland.

Answering the phone, she smiled and said, “Sancho, you’re getting creative with your locations. You’re on speaker with Maria.”

“Hey,” Sancho said. Not from Finland, but from north a bit in Porto, Portugal. “I have my moments. I see you’ve both implemented Protocol Three. Outstanding. Also, I have Josie on my end.”

“Is this a social call?” Sirena asked.

“You should switch to de-caf or maybe wine,” he said.

“You know, I’m not that far away,” Sirena said. “Should I come up for a visit?”

Sancho cleared his voice. “That won’t be necessary. What’s with you and Jake? Always trying to break my legs.”

“You know we love you, Sancho.”

Maria chimed in. “Love you, Darling.”

“Maria is always welcome,” Sancho said.

“Get to the point, you Basque Bastard,” Sirena said in a mocking tone.

“Right. “Anyway, we did a complete review of our system. We think we have everything cleaned up.”

“You think?” Sirena asked.

“Well,” Sancho said. “We didn’t just shut down our system. We set a trap for any further incursions.”

“You sound optimistic.”

Josie Ertz broke in and said, “I set up a trap. And we caught a weasel.”

“Outstanding work, young lady,” Sirena said. “Tell me more.”

Josie said, “They were very sophisticated. But not as smart as our team. They did find our backdoor, though.”

“Who is it and where are they?” Sirena demanded.

“Not in Lisbon,” Josie said. “I tracked them down to an IP in Madrid.”

“Looks like we’re heading back to Madrid,” Maria said.

Sancho said, “For now. But that’s not all. I was able to break into their system. They bounced it around and they encrypted their communications, so I wasn’t able to attach a person to their messages. However, I did get a location.”

Checking her watch, Sirena said, “And?”

Josie said, “The men are in contact with someone from Brussels, Belgium.”

“And not just that city,” Sancho said. “We narrowed it down to a computer within the headquarters of the European Union.”

Sirena let out a heavy breath of air.

“It gets worse,” Josie said. “It’s not just the EU headquarters, the computer was in the Berlaymont Building, which houses the headquarters of the European Commission.”

“You’re shitting me,” Sirena said. “If Jake finds out this, he’s going to go postal on their asses.”

“That’s why we haven’t told him yet,” Josie said.

“But if we hold off too long,” Sancho said, “and then Jake eventually finds out, which he will, we’ll be in deep dog poo.”

He was right, Sirena knew. She thought carefully, weighing all of their options. Finally, she said, “Who else knows about this?”

“Just the two of us,” Sancho assured her.

“Keep it that way,” Sirena said. “I’ll deal with Jake when the time is right.”

“Roger that,” Sancho said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Josie agreed.

“In the meantime,” Sirena said. “I need you two to dig deeper and see who owns that computer in the EU.”

“You want us to hack into the EU?” Sancho asked.

“Haven’t you already done that?” Sirena asked.

“Technically, we’ve just snooped a bit. But I need to know how far to take this.”

“All the way,” Sirena ordered.

“Cool,” Sancho said. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

“We’re on it,” Josie said.

“And also find the hacker in Madrid,” Sirena said. “We need to deal with them first.”

They cut the call from the other end and Sirena did the same, putting her phone back on the bedside table.

Maria looked concerned.

“What?” Sirena asked.

“The EU has a lot of resources.”

“So do we. Someone made a mistake, and we’ll make them pay for it.”

In a while, they got into bed and turned off the lights. Only a sliver of light streaked the wall from the Lisbon Cathedral square below their room.

Sirena’s mind wouldn’t shut down. Part of her wanted to text Jake and tell him what they discovered. But the more pragmatic side knew that they should deal with this from Europe. After all, what could Jake do about this from the other end of the world?

With great difficulty, Sirena finally let her mind drift off and she fell asleep.

10

Ushuaia, Argentina

Jake got rid of his rental Range Rover, dumping it in the forest near Tierra del Fuego National Park. Then he had hailed a ride share, which picked up Jake and Emma at an isolated location based on a pin drop on the app map. The driver didn’t seem to care that an older gentleman and a young girl, both carrying bags over their shoulders, needed a ride out in the boondocks.

The driver dropped Jake and Emma at the airport, where Jake rented a more discreet 4X4 Jeep Renegade in dark blue, using his Austrian persona and Visa that couldn’t be traced back to him or the Gomez organization.

Now, having driven the Jeep to the private side of the airport, Jake parked outside a hangar and shut down the engine.

“What are we doing here?” Emma asked.

“The killer of our guy, Burk, flew down to the remote station in Antarctica with this company,” Jake explained.

“The inspector already talked with them, right?”

Jake raised a finger and said, “First rule of investigating anything. Don’t believe what you hear from others. Confirm on your own.”

“Trust no one,” Emma said.

“Well, you can trust me,” he said. “And trust Sirena.”

“My brother, Karl?”

“And Karl.”

“Yes, sir, Captain.” She gave him a half-assed salute.

“Don’t do that,” Jake said. “You have to earn that salute. And you haven’t served in the military.”

“Should I?” Emma asked.

“Not in this current environment,” Jake said. “I served so you don’t have to.”

“But I don’t know what I want to do,” she said with honest concern.

He touched her shoulder and said, “You’re young. Everyone goes through this unknown period. While you experience life, something will hit you like a brick from the sky. Then you’ll know your purpose in life.”

“What if that never happens?”

Jake shrugged. “Then you run the ranch and live a simple life.”

“How will I make money?” she asked.

He had never talked about finances with her, but he knew that he needed to teach her everything he knew about investing and saving for the future.

“We need to eventually talk about how to properly prepare for your future,” Jake said.

“Investments? I’ve talked with Sirena about that.”

“I’m more aggressive than Sirena when it comes to investing,” Jake assured her. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now I need to speak with these people.”

It looked like she wanted to salute again, but this time she simply nodded her head.

“Come with me,” Jake said.

“Why can’t I stay here?”

“Because there could be people still coming for me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Emma unclicked her seatbelt and got out.

They walked to the metal building with a sign announcing Fin de la Aviación Mundial. Below that in small letters it read, End of the World Aviation.

“Don’t say anything,” Jake said through the side of his mouth.

“Got it.”

The private airline that catered to those flying around the southern tip of South America, and all the way to Antarctica, including delivering supplies and showing tourists the beauty of the region, was a sparse operation, Jake noticed immediately after entering the building.

The receptionist, an older woman who looked surprised to see anyone enter the building, had Jake and Emma wait in a small area with a couple of plastic chairs while she went somewhere in the back. They both remained standing. The receptionist finally came back and simply waved for Jake and Emma to follow her.

They went down the corridor with a couple of doors, all closed, to the end office. The receptionist slipped away, happy to hand off Jake to her boss.

A short man who could have been the police inspector’s twin brother, got up to shake their hands. Emma simply stood back in a corner of the office, a bored expression on her face.

“How may I help you, sir?” the owner of the airline said in Spanish.

“Do you speak English?” Jake asked with his best German accent.

“Of course.”

“My Spanish is not perfect,” Jake explained.

Once the owner gave Jake a smile, he told the man why he was there. Inspector Campo had directed Jake to his company. Jake tried his best to be affable yet assertive.

“What are you saying, sir?” the owner asked.

“I’m not accusing your men of anything,” Jake said. “I’m simply trying to find out what happened with my man in Antarctica.”

“I see.” The owner clicked on his computer and turned back to Jake. “That crew is currently in Punta Arenas. They are scheduled to be back in about an hour.”

“How far is that?” Jake asked.

“Two hundred sixty-five kilometers.”

In Jake’s head he converted that quickly to 165 miles. Since the plane they were flying was an older de Havilland DHC-6 Twin Otter with a maximum speed around 200 miles per hour, this made sense to Jake.

“We could wait for them to get back,” Jake said.

The owner swished his head side to side. “I’m afraid they will be doing a quick turnaround and taking off again.”

“I only need a few minutes with them,” Jake said.

“There is not much they can tell you. The man who flew with them to Gomez Station did not give us a real identification. We did not learn this until later.”

“Did you make a copy of his passport?” Jake asked.

“Afraid not,” the man said.

“Who authorized his flight to the station?”

“I don’t know. I understand it was a call from the Gomez company.”

“And you have a substantial contract with Gomez,” Jake reminded the man.

“It is significant,” the man agreed. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Jake said. “Mister Gomez is a powerful man with a lot of resources. He only needs you until he doesn’t.”

The owner smiled and said, “We are the only aviation company that supplies that Antarctica station.”

Jake let out a heavy breath. “The man who launches rockets into space every week could surely start his own service supplying his own station. Maybe I should suggest this to Carlos Gomez.”

Now the man squirmed in his chair like he had just crapped his pants. “That will not be necessary. I will make sure you can talk with my people.”

Checking his watch, Jake considered taking his daughter somewhere for lunch. They could have enough time to get back to the airport to intercept the flight crew. Then a thought came to him suddenly.

Turning back to the owner, Jake said, “Instead of delaying the flight crew, why don’t we just fly to Antarctica with them. That would give me a chance to look over the crime scene also.”

The owner hesitated briefly, trying to calculate how to say no without pissing off Jake, he guessed.

Surprisingly, the owner said, “The supply list isn’t too heavy. But I must warn you the seats on the Otter are not very comfortable.”

“I know that,” Jake said, thinking about all the times he had flown in mesh jump seats in his past. “We’ll be fine.”

“You should have some warmer clothes than what you are wearing,” the man said.

“Not a problem,” Jake said. “We’ll be back here in an hour.” He pointed at the owner and added, “Don’t leave without us.”

“We will not.”

Jake led his daughter back to their rental Jeep and said nothing until getting back behind the wheel. “Well,” he said. “Here’s your chance to see the seventh continent. Not many people get this opportunity.”

“I’m excited,” she said. “But I’m a bit concerned.”

“About what?”

“You,” she said. “You have a way of intimidating people without even trying.”

He smiled with that sentiment. Since the two of them had been together on a permanent basis, Jake had never been required to show this side of himself to her.

“Hey,” Jake said. “I’m a sweet guy. Everybody knows this.”

•

As soon as the man from the Gomez Organization left his office, the owner of End of the World Aviation picked up his cell phone and tapped in a number from memory.

When his contact picked up, the owner said in Spanish, “The man came by.”

He listened carefully to his contact, nodding his head as if that person could see him do so.

“I understand.”

The owner hit the red off button with his right index finger. The devil he knew, he thought with a wry smile.

11

On the Spanish Bullet Train

Sirena and Maria had spent the extra money for the high speed train between Lisbon and Madrid, which would take them nearly three hours. They had also purchased business class seats and were about two hours through the trip, with one more stop before Madrid.

Maria had taken this trip so many times, she was fast asleep against the window.

However, Sirena had slept fine the night before, so she was wide awake and going back and forth by text with Sancho and Josie in Porto. Josie was getting closer to identifying the computer used to message the contact in Madrid. Sancho was working on the more immediate problem of finding the actual Madrid contact.

Sirena had the urge to use the restroom, so she nudged Maria slightly and whispered where she was going. Maria grumbled something but continued to sleep.

Glancing up and down the car, Sirena got up and went toward the back of the train. Each car had a restroom. First, Sirena went past the restroom, saw that it was occupied, and went into the next car. Then she paused, turned around and went back to the restroom once she saw an older man leave.

She locked the door and left behind the soda she had consumed after first getting on the train. Then she washed her hands and unlocked the door.

Just as the door unlocked, someone shoved into her, knocking her back into the restroom. Then Sirena saw the silenced handgun before the face of the man rushing in.

Sirena shoved the man’s gun and hand up to the ceiling just as a single round left the barrel and lodged somewhere into the metal above her head. By now, the man much larger than Sirena, had his back against the door, blocking anyone from entering.

Simultaneously, she held the man’s gun hand up while she shoved her right knee into the man’s groin, buckling the man slightly and bringing his face low enough for her right elbow to smash into the man’s thick jaw.

He barely budged against her strike. Instead, he struck her repeatedly with his left fist into her right torso.

She twisted to her right, making his blows less effective. Then she wrapped her right arm over his right arm, while shoving the back of her head into the man’s face. This slowed the man slightly. Now she had both hands and arms around his right arm, struggling to control the silenced handgun.

With his free left hand, the man grabbed her chest.

She quickly lifted both feet in the air, shoved her feet against the opposite wall, and smashed her body against the man, sending him crashing into the door. This took the man’s breath away and loosened his hand from her chest as he struggled to gain his footing.

This distraction gave her time to drop down, pulling the man’s right arm around, twisting it back behind her.

Now she had her hand on his hand on the gun. She twisted with all her might and got the gun pointed at the man’s upper body.

The cough of the silenced gun went off twice.

Suddenly, the gun went limp in the man’s hand and she turned to see where the rounds had hit the guy. Both had entered the man in the chest. Then, without warning, the man crashed to the floor, and Sirena just had time to let him do so.

Out of breath, she considered her options.

Just then, an announcement came over the speaker saying they were about to stop in Ciudad Real, their last stop before Madrid.

She checked the man for identification, but she found nothing. Sirena took out her phone, aimed the camera at the man’s face, and snapped off a couple of shots. One thing she knew for sure. This was one of the men who had tried to attack them in Madrid, and then again at the hospital in Lisbon. Who were these guys? More importantly, how had they tracked them?

She shoved the man’s gun into the waistband at the small of her back and covered it with her jacket. Then she glanced into the mirror and saw a couple of spots of blood, which she quickly cleaned off.

Someone tried to enter the bathroom, but the door hit the man’s dead body.

“Occupied,” Sirena said in Spanish and then English.

Now she thought about prints. Had she touched anything. Just in case, she wiped down any surface that could hold her prints.

Then she slowly pulled the man’s dead body away from the door, just enough to slip out through a narrow opening. Luckily, whoever had tried to enter the restroom was now gone.

Glancing into her car and to the one behind hers, she walked toward her seat. She noticed the train was slowing significantly for their last stop.

She sat down and felt the dead man’s gun against her back.

Maria was awake now. She asked, “What happened to you?”

“What?” Sirena asked.

Her friend found a tissue in her purse and she quickly wiped something near Sirena’s right ear.

“Blood,” Maria whispered.

“It’s not mine,” Sirena assured her. “Get your stuff. We need to go.”

The two of them grabbed their bags in the overhead bin and Sirena directed them toward the front of their car, avoiding the dead man restroom.

They had to wait only a minute or so until the train stopped at the station and the doors slid open.

At a quick pace, Sirena led them toward the station, through the main lobby and out into the noon air of central Ciudad Real.

Sirena stopped and turned to Maria, glancing around her friend to relay what had happened while looking for the second man.

“One of the men found me in the bathroom,” Sirena explained. “I have his silenced gun in my waistband.”

“Where is the man?” Maria asked.

“Resting in the restroom,” Sirena said. “Terminally.”

Maria let out a little whistle. “Okay, now what?”

“How far to Madrid from here?”

“About an hour by the train we just left,” Maria said. “Perhaps two by car or bus.”

“I’m not riding a bus,” Sirena said emphatically. “Let’s go find a car.”

Maria smiled and said, “I’ve got an idea.”

Sirena knew that smile. But she walked with her friend toward the city center. While she walked, she found the image of the man she had just been forced to kill. She sent two images to Sancho in Porto.

Then she sent a quick message to Jake, using their personal code to explain that she and Maria had been under attack again. But they were safe. For now.

Her last text to Jake read, ‘Heading to Madrid.’

12

Over the Drake Passage, Southern Ocean

The twin turbo prop de Havilland DHC-6 Twin Otter aircraft rattled and shook as Jake tried to rest his eyes and think about what was happening to the Gomez Organization. More specifically, he was worried about Sirena and Maria in Spain. Moments ago he had gotten a cryptic text from Sirena saying they were again under attack, and she had taken out her attacker on the bullet train from Lisbon to Madrid. They were safe. That was the important thing. But still, this made no sense to him.

Jake opened his eyes slightly and saw his daughter next to him wide awake. They were both wearing headsets, so they could talk over the din of the engines whining.

The owner of this aircraft had warned Jake that the seats would not be comfortable, and he had not lied. They were worse than the mesh nylon seats of a military transport like the C-130. With those you just had to worry about your butt freezing from the mesh. Seats in this plane were cold metal boxes, with a hint of a pad like one might find on a cheap patio chair. Jake had flown in the Otter before, but those had been configured with as many as eight comfortable seats. This plane was set up for cargo only.

Jake clicked off his comm unit and yelled to Emma, “Are you alright?”

“I think so,” Emma said. “But I read about the Drake Passage on the trip down to South America. Do you know that the ocean near the islands down here is a mile deep?”

Jake smiled. “You can drown in anything over your head.”

She punched him in the arm. “It was just a factoid, Daddy.”

“Be glad you’re not in a boat,” he said. “The Drake Passage is one of the most treacherous bodies of water on the planet.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

He was about to explain the clashing of the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, when the aircraft seemed to drop a hundred feet in seconds.

Emma grabbed Jake’s arm and he put his hand on hers in a calming gesture.

The pilot said over the headset in English, “Buckle up, folks. I will try to find us some clean air.”

Jake thought about his questioning of the two men in the cockpit.

The plane shook again.

Without a thought, Jake unbuckled, turned on his comm headset, and headed forward to the cockpit.

Leaning into the cockpit, Jake said over the comm, “Everything alright, boys?” After asking this, Jake looked out through the windscreen and saw only cloud cover whipping by. Visibility was zero.

“You should get back and buckle up,” the man in the co-pilot seat said to Jake. He was the younger of the two men.

The pilot stayed busy trying to fight with the yoke.

“How far to Gomez Station?” Jake asked.

“We are beyond the point of no return,” the co-pilot said.

“Meaning?” Jake asked.

“Meaning,” the co-pilot said, “if we turned back now, we would not have enough fuel to make it back to anywhere safe to land.”

“What’s the range of this Otter?” Jake asked.

“Eight hundred miles,” the co-pilot said. “We have traveled over four hundred. We have two hundred miles left. We are above the Southern Ocean now. With the headwinds, our engines are sucking fuel. Plus, we are being blown off course constantly.”

No time like the present, then, Jake thought.

He tapped the co-pilot on the shoulder and said, “Tell me about the man you took down to Antarctica recently.”

Glancing at Jake through the corner of his eye, the man said, “I have already told this to the police.”

“I know,” Jake said. “Now you can tell me. Maybe I don’t trust the police.”

The co-pilot hesitated as he glanced to his left at the pilot. Finally, he said to Jake, “The man did not say a word all the way to the station.”

“Who authorized him to fly with you?” Jake asked.

“We got word from the owner to let him on the plane. We had to readjust our weight, including removing some items from the manifest.”

“You dumped some cargo before leaving?” Jake asked.

“Yes, we did,” the man said. “And the station was not happy.”

“Why?”

“We had to remove cases of beer,” the co-pilot said with a smile. Then he pointed over his shoulder. “They are included with this shipment.”

Jake had noticed the beer. “How much did the man weigh?”

“Just over one hundred kilos,” the co-pilot said.

That was about two hundred and twenty pounds of beer. Jake could see why the station might be pissed off. More importantly, though, was the fact that the two men he had been forced to kill in Ushuaia were both sub-two hundred pounds. They had not killed the researcher. Then who was the killer and where was he now?

Jake tapped the pilot’s shoulder and asked, “Do you agree with your friend’s words?”

The pilot nodded and said, “I do. He was a strange man.”

“Anything else either of you noticed about the guy?” Jake asked.

They both shook their heads in the negative.

“Nothing?” Jake asked. “Color of hair. Color of eyes? Distinguishing marks?”

The co-pilot cocked his head in thought. “He wore heavy clothes. But once I saw him itching the right side of his neck, pulling down his black turtleneck. I saw a cross below his right ear.”

“A tattoo?” Jake asked.

“Yes.”

If he was itching it, Jake guessed the tattoo was new and healing.

“It wasn’t a cross,” the pilot said.

“Yes, it was.”

“Not a Christian Cross,” the pilot said. “It had more than one cross.”

Jake had a feeling he knew what they were talking about. He took out his SAT phone and typed in a request. Thankfully, the Gomez Organization had coverage this far south. Jake found what he was looking for and turned his phone to the co-pilot first.

“That must be it,” the co-pilot said.

Jake turned the phone to the pilot, who took his eyes off the controls for a second to see the image.

“Very similar,” the pilot said. “How do you have cell service down here?”

Jake shoved his phone back into his pocket. “I don’t know. Must be a fluke. Someone told me it has something to do with cosmic rays and particle acceleration. I don’t know.” Shoving his chin up at the windscreen, Jake asked, “What’s our ETA now?”

“Less than an hour to landing,” the co-pilot said. “Assuming we can find the runway in this mess.”

Jake tapped both men on the shoulders and headed back to his seat. As he sat next to Emma, she turned off her comm unit. Jake did the same.

“What’s up?” Jake asked her.

“You got everything from them,” Emma said, “yet you gave them nothing.”

He smiled. “It’s an art, Emma.”

“How do you get connectivity here?” she asked. “I tried my phone and get nothing.”

Jake considered a story, but then realized that Emma was old enough for the truth. He said, “We’ve been using these phones for years, testing them for the Gomez Organization. They’re SAT phones.”

“Direct to satellite?” she asked.

“That’s right. Gomez will be launching them soon for the general public. You’ll no longer be tethered to cell towers.”

Emma’s mind was reeling. “I want one.”

“You’ll have to wait,” Jake said.

After a moment of thought, Emma said, “Wait. Karl has one already. I’ve seen it.”

“Your brother works for Gomez.”

Just then, as the plane nearly shook them from their seats, Jake’s phone buzzed. He took it out and read the text. It was from Sancho. It simply read, ‘We identified the men who attacked you. They’re former officers with SIE, the Foreign Intelligence Service of Romania.’

Jake guessed that already, based on the messages in their phones. But what about the cross tattoo on the neck of the killer? It was an Orthodox Cross, most likely from the Russian Orthodox Church. That didn’t make sense with Romanians. The majority of Romanians were members of the Romanian Orthodox Church, and their cross was similar to those of Catholics—a standard cross. However, he remembered one guy he was forced to kill in Europe, a Romanian agent, and he wore an Orthodox Cross.

Jake tapped in a text to Sancho, telling him to look into known associates of the two dead former SIE officers. Especially those who might be about six feet tall and weigh 220 pounds.

He got a thumbs up almost immediately from Sancho.

Suddenly, the aircraft went into a steep dive. Jake clicked on his headset and heard the pilot saying they were going down.

“Clarify,” Jake said, glancing at Emma, whose hands where on her thighs with white knuckles.

The co-pilot said, “We have to drop below the cloud cover under VFR landing conditions.”

Jake expected Visual Flight Rules on such a remote island. But he said, “What about mountains?”

“We are coming in from the west above the ocean,” the pilot said. “The mountains are to the east of Gomez Station.”

Somehow that wasn’t reassuring to Jake. So, he pulled up his SAT phone GPS and saw that the flight crew was right. But they were coming in fast and barely about whale breaching height. Considering all the close calls Jake had experienced in his life, he didn’t guess that dying in a plane crash in Antarctica would get him.

Jake smiled at Emma and took her hand in his, trying his best to reassure her.

If they were going down in a ball of flames, he was glad he was with his daughter.

13

Port de Pariacabo, French Guiana

The 175-foot private yacht owned by Spanish billionaire Carlos Gomez cruised slowly up the Kourou River in this jungle enclave on northeast South America, the brown water like coffee with a touch of cream. The newer docking facility on the river had been built a few years ago to accept large shipments containing everything from satellites to massive telescopes to be fitted to rockets and launched at the nearby European Union launch center.

Carlos Gomez sat under cover on the stern of his yacht sipping a rum and coke as he glanced across the river and wondered how many mosquitoes would descend on him in the next few hours. He waved over one of his crew members and had the young man close the back end, while Gomez took his drink inside.

Gomez waved for his bartender to mix him another drink, and then he sat onto a plush white leather swivel chair.

Once they docked, a representative of the French government and the European Union would come aboard to discuss their upcoming launch. Gomez didn’t make a point of attending all launches. They had become so frequent that he would have to keep his yacht docked here permanently. And that wasn’t possible or even practical. First of all, Gomez hated the jungle. There were too many creatures, like snakes and spiders and even frogs that could kill him. How would that look on his obituary? Billionaire dies from spider bite. Many had tried to kill him over the years, and Gomez had security to thwart those attacks. But how could one defend against arachnids?

He accepted his drink from his bartender and told him to retrieve his guests.

Gomez was concerned. Not for the upcoming launch. Although this would be the largest rocket his people had ever attempted to send to space, he trusted their expertise. No, his concern was more for the activities he had learned about in the past few days. First, his researcher in Antarctica had been murdered. Then his cell phone plant manager had been beaten in Lisbon. That had led to a breech in their security system. Sancho and his people in Porto had seemingly taken care of that problem. But now he had heard about his people in Spain and in Tierra del Fuego being under attack. What was happening? If he trusted anyone on this planet, that was Jake Adams and Sirena. They would surely come up with a solution for everything. He could bank on it.

A short time after docking and tying the yacht to the pier, Gomez got a text from his security, saying the French delegation from Guiana was on their way. His men would escort them to the lounge to meet Carlos Gomez.

Delegation was a misnomer. It consisted of the Prefect and his assistant, an attractive blonde woman.

The Prefect of French Guiana was a short, stocky man who was nearly 60 years old. His partially gray hair stuck up in all directions from the humid air. And the man hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.

Gomez stood and greeted his guests, shaking the Prefect’s hand and air kissing the assistant on both of her cheeks. They took seats around a small table. The assistant went to the bar and sat at a high chair, as if she were the Prefect’s security guard.

Gomez had been briefed on Charles Babin. The man had been appointed to his current position as Prefect of French Guiana only a few months ago. Prior to that he had been in charge of Martinique in the West Indies. This was certainly a step up for him, Gomez thought.

Since Gomez spoke French, he said in that language, “Thank you for making the trip from Cayenne.”

Switching to a neutral language, English, Babin said, “It is my pleasure. This is an important launch tomorrow.”

“True,” Gomez said. “Would you like a drink?”

The Prefect glanced at the bar and smiled. “I would not say no to such a fine collection. Scotch would be fine. Neat.”

Gomez knew they had at least a dozen of the best single malt Scotch on hand, and even more in storage. He gave his bartender a thumbs up, meaning to bring the man the best they had.

“Does your assistant want something?” Gomez asked.

“She is on duty,” Babin said.

Gomez found this strange, but his impression that she could be security must have been true.

Once both of them had fresh drinks, they tapped their glasses together and Gomez said, “To a successful launch.”

“Vers le succès,” Babin said. Then he repeated this in Spanish, “Al éxito.”

They both took sips of their drink and stared for a moment at each other.

Babin was the first to speak again. He went back to his native French. “I understand your company has experienced a few incidents of late.”

This took Gomez by surprise, but he didn’t let the Prefect know this. He simply said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Shifting his eyes a bit nervously, Babin said, “The man who died in Antarctica recently.”

Gomez wasn’t sure how the news of this man’s death had reached the Prefect of French Guiana. But he said, “This man’s death is under investigation by the Argentine authorities.”

The Frenchman let out a soft grunt. “I see. I thought I heard this man was studying the physics of the Sun. Something to do with cosmic rays and solar activity. These things are beyond my comprehension. I am a simple economist.”

This was hardly true, Gomez knew, since his people had discovered that Charles Babin had been an officer for more than 10 years with the French DGSE, or General Directorate of External Security, the CIA counterpart. But Gomez knew not to divulge his knowledge.

A wry smile, Gomez said, “My researcher worked in Heliophysics. He was brilliant and will be missed.”

“But this won’t impact your launch tomorrow?” Babin asked.

“Of course not,” Gomez assured the man. “We always have contingencies in place for every possibility. Even for me.”

This was the only way Carlos Gomez could think about life.

14

Gomez Station, Antarctica

As it turned out, the Argentine Otter pilot had expertly navigated to the island across the Southern Ocean and set the old twin engine aircraft on the snowy landing strip with only a couple of extra bounces.

Before getting off the plane, Jake went to the cockpit and thanked the boys for the ride. They were both about to tear into a sub sandwich.

“How long before you head back to Ushuaia?” Jake asked them.

“A quick bite to eat,” the co-pilot said. “When the station heard we had beer, they sent a crew to help offload and refuel us.”

“I understand,” Jake said.

“How long do you need?” the pilot asked, a chunk of sandwich in his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “Probably not long.” He looked out the windscreen around the pilot and added, “Is that where the researcher was killed.”

“That is what we were told,” the co-pilot said. “I saw the man we brought here follow the other man in there. I do not know how long they were in there. But we were not here long. Like now, we dropped our load and headed out almost immediately. Hey, do you want a sandwich? We have two extras. We should have given them to you and your young lady on the trip down.”

“We’ll pass on the sandwiches until the return trip,” Jake said. “I have to check out that shed.”

The co-pilot gave Jake the international signal of a thumbs up.

“Do not linger,” the pilot said. “We like to at least take off in the daylight.”

“I’ll be quick,” Jake said. Then he went back, collected Emma, and opened the side door.

Waiting for the two of them was a woman in her early 50s, maybe younger or maybe older. Jake couldn’t tell because of what the cold wind had done to her face. Her wrinkles had wrinkles.

She reached out her hand to Jake and said, “Helga Graf.”

Jake shook the woman’s skinny hand, which was as cold as a penguin’s foot. “Jakob Konrad,” Jake said, using part of an old persona. He didn’t introduce his daughter. Instead, he said in German, “Graf. Are you Swiss like Burk?”

“Austrian,” Helga said. Switching to German, she added, “I thought you would be American.”

Ignoring her, Jake said, “I need two things from you. First, I need to see where Burk was killed. And second, I need to pick up Burk’s laptop.”

She looked concerned. “We have tried to get into his laptop, but Gerhard used a sophisticated encryption.”

“Per our instructions,” Jake said. “I have people who can get into it.”

Helga pointed to the shack and said, “He died in there. When he didn’t come back to the station, I came looking for him. I found his body.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I understand how disturbing this can be,” Jake said, trying his best at empathy.

She reached into her pocket and took out a thin gold necklace, which she reached out toward Jake. “I found this next to his body. He wore it at all times.”

Jake accepted the chain and said, “Why didn’t you send this with his body?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important. He has a daughter in Geneva. I would like to send it to her.”

“There was just a chain?” Jake asked.

Helga shook her head. “He had a cross. Perhaps the killer took that with him.”

That was possible, Jake thought. Killers often took items as trophies.

He handed the chain back to Helga. “Hang onto it for now. If you could run back to the station and get his laptop, that would be great.”

Helga nodded, quickly walked back to a Polaris ATV, started it up, and sped off down the hill toward the station in the distance.

“Interesting woman,” Emma said. “She was in love with Mister Burk.”

Good insight, Jake thought.

“You should wait outside,” Jake said to Emma.

“I was hoping to see some penguins.”

Jake glanced at the men from the station, who were offloading beer and other food, placing them on a cart pulled by another Polaris. Based on what Jake knew was in the back of the Otter, they would have to make at least two trips to the station.

“Follow me into the shack,” Jake said. “But stand at the entrance.”

“Yes, sir, Captain.”

Now he really wished he hadn’t told her he had been a captain in the Air Force. He went into the shack, closed the door behind them, and noticed immediately that the lighting would be a problem. Only one window let in light, and the scant sun was already dropping to the horizon.

Pulling out his phone, he turned on the flashlight mode and swept the edges of the room. The wall by the window contained nothing. The floor was dirty, but the dirt seemed to be frozen in time. The opposite wall from the window held a long bench with tools hanging above it on pegboard. But most of the tools were strewn about the beat up workbench. The shelf below the bench held various solvents and oil products—things that would not be impacted too much by ultra cold weather.

“What are you looking for, Daddy?” Emma asked from the door area.

He let the light go to the center of the room. Jake had to assume this was the place Burk had been murdered.

Finally, Jake said, “I don’t know for sure, Emma. When a man is choked out, or has his neck broken like Burk, there usually isn’t much forensic evidence to discover. And that’s not my job anyway. We know the how and the where of Burk’s death. We just don’t know the who and the why.”

“That’s why you want his laptop?” she asked.

“His entire research is on that computer,” Jake said. “And the laptop is the property of the Gomez Organization. So is the research.”

“I don’t understand the significance of the man’s work,” she said.

“Neither do I,” he said. “That’s also above my paygrade.”

“Mister Gomez must really trust you.”

He turned the light on her and she covered her eyes with her hand.

“We have an understanding,” he said. “I set up his security apparatus years ago. Now someone is trying to dismantle this. Why? I’m not sure.”

“On the flight to Ushuaia, I read an article online about the company getting ready to begin a major new initiative with the rocket launch soon.”

Jake wandered back toward the work bench and said over his shoulder, “From what I understand, as I mentioned to you, he plans to shift from cell towers to direct satellite communications. This could disrupt a number of companies.”

“Like the current cell phone companies?” she asked.

He directed his light lower, under the workbench.

“Among others,” Jake said, as he got to his knees. “There are a lot of companies that make money selling cell services. Then you have the cell tower people. The router folks. The list is long.”

He swept the light until he finally saw a reflection off something metal. Behind the base of a workbench leg, he saw something. Reaching out, he picked up a small gold Christian Cross and held it in his hand. Then he switched on the phone camera and took a couple of photos.

“What’s that?” Emma asked.

“Our victim’s cross,” Jake said.

“Is that significant?” she asked.

“Not really,” he said. “It obviously came off in the struggle.”

By now Jake heard a couple of ATVs moving about. He glanced out the window and saw that the crew who had been offloading the aircraft were heading back to the station. From the other direction, the station chief pulled up with her Polaris. She got off and pulled the laptop from bungy cords on the front rack.

“Let’s go,” Jake said.

The two of them left the shack and met Helga out on the frozen tundra.

Helga handed Jake the laptop.

Jake reached his hand out to her and showed her the gold cross.

“You found it,” she said, taking the cross from Jake.

“It was under the workbench,” he said.

“May I keep it?” Helga asked. “I will send it to Gerhard’s daughter.”

“That’s fine with me,” Jake said. “Now, are you sure you didn’t get into Burk’s computer.”

“Absolutely,” she said, concerned with Jake’s accusation.

“And none of the other researchers here have copies of Burk’s work?”

She shook her head. “He had only a part time graduate research assistant. But. . .”

“What?” Jake asked.

“I hate to speak ill of people,” Helga said.

Somehow Jake found that hard to believe. “Please continue.”

Finally, Helga said, “The graduate student is from America. And I am afraid he is a useless drunk. Gerhard said he didn’t trust the man.”

“Maybe I should speak with him,” Jake said.

“I’m afraid that is impossible,” she said. “He packed his things and left on the first boat out of here after Gerhard was killed.”

Jake made a mental note to check into that man. Then he smiled at Helga and said, “Are there any penguins near us?”

Helga smiled. “Yes. We have a colony of Chinstrap Penguins a mile from here.”

“Could you show my assistant the colony?” Jake asked.

Emma smiled with excitement.

“Sure,” Helga said. “We could be back and forth in minutes.”

As the station chief went toward her ATV, Jake held Emma back and whispered, “Speak only German. Tell her nothing about us. Do you understand?”

“Ja, Sir, Kapitän.”

Kids, he thought, as he watched Emma run to the Polaris, hop on the back, and take off down the side of the hill.

15

Madrid, Spain

Sirena and Maria drove the ‘acquired’ car to the capital city and ditched it in a substandard apartment complex parking lot after wiping down their prints. From there they took the Metro to the neighborhood where someone had used a cybercafé to hack into the Gomez Organization.

While they had traveled on the train from Lisbon, Sancho and Josie had been able to pull up a camera from the cybercafé, downloading the image of the hacker who had gotten into their system. He looked like a college student to Sirena.

The two of them had been sitting across from the cybercafé in a tapas joint eating and drinking coffee as evening set in. They had watched people come and go from the IP location but had not identified the young man they were looking for.

“The cybercafé closes in fifteen minutes,” Maria said, and then took a sip of coffee.

Sirena was aware of this fact. “If you keep drinking that you’ll be up all night.”

“Fine,” Maria said. “Now we switch to wine.”

Just then Sirena’s phone buzzed. Checking the screen, there was a short message from Sancho.

“Jake?” Maria asked.

Sirena got up and said, “No. Our Basque friend. Our guy is in the cybercafé on the computer.”

The two of them moved down the street to obscure their approach, and then they crossed the street between traffic. Sirena motioned for Maria to take the alley around back, the only way that man could have gotten in the cybercafé without being seen.

Now, after giving Maria time to get in position, Sirena entered the cybercafé.

A man at the desk said they were closing soon.

Sirena ignored the guy as she methodically made her way down the row of computers. Since they were about to close, most of the patrons had wrapped up their business and left already.

As Sirena rounded the last row of computers, a young man looked up at her and his eyes suddenly widened. He grabbed his backpack and rushed out the back of the cybercafé.

He was quick, but Sirena was right on his heels before the door could slam on her. When he dashed out the back door to the alley, Maria was waiting for him. She tripped the kid, and he sprawled across the dirty pavement.

Maria was on the man faster than he could recover to his feet, slamming her foot down onto the man’s shoulders.

“Where are going so fast?” Maria asked the young man.

The man mumbled something under his breath. It wasn’t Spanish, though. Sirena picked up on the Slavic slur immediately. It wasn’t Russian, though. It was Southern Slavic. She was nowhere close to being fluent in this language, but she did know enough to identify certain characteristics. This man was Bulgarian.

“Do you speak Spanish?” Sirena asked him in his native tongue.

He said nothing.

“English?” Sirena probed.

“Screw you, Jewish bitch,” the man said.

Sirena grabbed his long hair and pulled his face from the hard surface. “No need to get personal,” she said in English. “Who do you work for?”

“Blow me,” the man growled.

Letting go of the man’s hair, Sirena helped his face to the ground quicker, smashing the man’s nose into the pavement, which brought instant blood.

“You broke my nose,” the young Bulgarian said.

Sirena felt her phone buzz. She pulled it from her pants and saw that Sancho had texted her. This Bulgarian had been communicating with a contact at the EU again.

‘We’ve got him,’ Sirena texted back. She shoved her phone back into her pants.

Sirena patted the guy down for identification. Nothing. No weapons either. Then she searched methodically through the man’s backpack. There she found a wallet and a passport. She took out her phone and took images of the man’s passport and Bulgarian driver’s license. Sirena sent these photos to Sancho.

“You are not police,” the Bulgarian said.

Putting his IDs back into the bag, Sirena hesitated for a moment. Smiling, she shoved a tiny tracking device into a pouch inside the front zipper area.

“How do you know me?” Sirena asked the man.

The man said nothing.

“You obviously recognized me in the cybercafé,” Sirena said. “And you even mentioned my Jewish heritage. Who told you these things?” In Spanish, knowing she would be overheard, Sirena said to Maria, “He is NIS, Bulgarian National Intelligence Service.”

The man couldn’t help his eyes from shifting toward the blood pooling from his nose.

“You know what we do with spies,” Maria said. Also in Spanish. “I forget. Is it my turn or yours?”

“I have lost track,” Sirena said.

“No, you shot the last guy,” Maria insisted. “It is my turn.”

“Wait a minute,” the man said in Spanish.

Sirena and Maria shared a smile. They waited for the man to speak again.

“I have diplomatic immunity,” the Bulgarian said. Then he repeated this in English.

They had him right where they wanted him.

“I still say we shoot him,” Maria said in English.

“I don’t think anyone would miss him,” Sirena said.

“I have a wife and two children,” the Bulgarian said.

“You’re barely old enough to shave,” Sirena said, shaking her head in disbelief. “If you are Bulgarian Intelligence, prove it.”

“How would I know both of your backgrounds if I was not NIS?” he asked.

Sirena had to admit this made some sense. But not the follow on actions. “Since when does your Agency go around trying to kill people like us?”

“Please, let me up,” the man said. “I will explain.”

Maria shrugged.

Sirena agreed to have Maria take her foot away.

The Bulgarian sat up and finally put some pressure on his bleeding nose. By now the bright red blood was starting to darken and coagulate.

“Speak,” Sirena demanded.

“You are lucky I don’t kill you both,” he said.

“You aren’t making your case any better,” Sirena said. “Who hired you to hack into the Gomez Organization?”

“You have this all wrong,” he said. His eyes shifted nervously. “We are trying to help. There are rogue elements.”

The night was broken with the crack of a single shot. With a bullet striking the man in the center of his chest, the Bulgarian was dead before his body hit the pavement.

Sirena and Maria both drew their weapons and plastered their bodies against the closest brick wall.

“You see where that came from?” Sirena asked.

Maria shook her head.

Without saying another word, the two of them slipped back into the rear entrance to the cybercafé, holstered their guns, and walked casually toward the front of the building.

16

Gomez Station, Antarctica

Jake stood on a precipice overlooking the station below. Out in the ocean was a large triangular iceberg pointing up toward the sky, its movement imperceptible.

The last of the cargo had just been offloaded, piled onto the cart behind the ATV, and the men had driven it away down the hill.

In the distance, Jake could see the ATV with his daughter on the back. They were making their way back toward the landing strip.

“Let’s go, Amigo,” a man yelled from the plane. “We must get airborne.”

Turning to see that it was the co-pilot, Jake gave the man a thumbs up. “They’re on their way back.”

With the laptop in his left hand, Jake walked slowly back toward the airplane.

The Polaris ATV rolled up behind Jake and stopped on the frozen surface a few feet from him.

Emma jumped off the ATV and came to Jake excitedly. In German, she said, “We must have seen a hundred penguins.”

“Probably more,” Helga said, still sitting on the ATV. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

Jake shook his head as he heard the engines starting to fire up. He waved at Helga and ushered his daughter back onto the plane, closing and latching the door behind them.

The co-pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit and said, “Strap in. We might have a rough ride back over the Drake Passage. We’ll do our best to find some clean air.”

Jake and Emma sat, put on their belts and headsets, and leaned back as the engines powered up more.

Seconds later they taxied toward the end of the frozen strip, turned, and then rushed down the makeshift runway and took off. Instead of a slow climb, the twin engine Otter shot upward at a steep angle.

Emma gave Jake a concerned glare.

Jake shrugged and closed his eyes.

He must have dozed off with the sound of the engines whining.

He was awoken by an elbow jabbing into his left ribs.

“Daddy,” Emma said.

Jake sat up and opened his eyes. “What?”

“Something’s wrong,” she said. “Turn on your headset.”

Jake did as she asked, clicking on his comm. In panicked Spanish, the co-pilot was frantically yelling to the pilot.

Unbuckling quickly, Jake made his way to the cockpit.

“What’s up?” Jake asked.

But he didn’t really need an answer. The pilot was slumped over, his chin to his chest, and white spittle foam seeping from the right side of his mouth.

The Otter shook and rattled as the co-pilot tried to fight with the yoke. “Is he alright?”

Jake touched the right side of the man’s neck, seeking a pulse. But he found nothing. He had seen these signs before.

“I need to get him in the back,” Jake said, not mentioning the man was dead.

Unbuckling the pilot, Jake grasped the man’s flight suit and used all his strength to lift the pilot from the seat and out of the cockpit.

The co-pilot kept yelling back, “Is he alright?”

Jake dragged the man past Emma toward the empty cargo area, setting the man on his back on the metal floor.

“Is he alright?” Emma asked. She had followed Jake to the back.

Jake made sure Emma’s comm was off, glanced around his daughter and then whispered, “He’s dead.”

“What? How?”

“Looks like he was poisoned,” Jake said. Then he walked forward to the cockpit.

“Will he be alright?” the co-pilot asked.

Jake noticed sweat bubbling up on the co-pilot’s forehead. “Did you both eat the same thing?”

The co-pilot looked concerned. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“You ate sandwiches,” Jake said.

“Yes. And Coke. We asked you if you wanted sandwiches. When you said no, my friend ate two. There is still one available if you want it.”

“The pilot ate two?” Jake asked.

“Yes. Why? Is he alright?”

Jake ignored this question. “Does this plane have autopilot?”

“Of course, why?” the co-pilot asked.

“Put it on,” Jake demanded.

The co-pilot did as Jake asked. Then he turned to Jake and said, “Tell me he will be okay.”

“He’s dead,” Jake said. “Probably poisoned. Where did you get the sandwiches?”

Keeping his hands near the yoke, which was moving on its own now, the co-pilot said, “The owner of the company had them delivered from a local shop.” Then the man gave Jake a grave stare and added, “Was I poisoned also?”

“Is there anything he ate that you didn’t eat?” Jake asked him.

The co-pilot shook his head.

Jake considered their options. He could have the man induce vomiting, but that could be too late, he thought.

“Where are we?” Jake asked.

“Halfway across,” the co-pilot said. “There’s no going back.”

Jake noticed the co-pilot’s hand shaking slightly, and the perspiration on his forehead had doubled.

“Are you alright?” Jake asked.

The man shook his head side to side, but he said, “I think I will be okay.”

“Be right back,” Jake said, and then went back to his daughter and sat next to her.

“What’s going on, Daddy?” Emma asked with concern.

“I believe the co-pilot was also poisoned,” he said. He didn’t want to mention that both of them were also potential victims, if they had eaten the sandwiches. Luckily, they had eaten before the flight.

The airplane suddenly shook and then seemed to plunge into a dive.

“Shit,” Jake said, and then rushed toward the cockpit.

The co-pilot’s head was leaning toward his chin and his arms were at his side. Somehow, the autopilot had been disengaged. Jake quickly checked for a pulse, but he got nothing. And he didn’t think any amount of CPR would change that fact.

Jake pulled back on the yoke to stop their descent.

“Daddy,” Emma yelled. “Out of the way.”

She pushed her way into the left seat where the pilot had died. Then she grasped the yoke like she had been a pilot for decades. Within seconds, she had the aircraft flying straight and level.

“Where the hell did you learn to fly?” Jake asked.

“Video games,” she said, holding back a smirk.

“That’s bull,” Jake said.

Emma’s eyes scanned the switches and dials on the dash and finally clicked a couple. She now had the aircraft on autopilot again.

Turning to Jake, she said, “You know all those girl dates I had with Sirena in the past two years?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Coffee and shopping.”

She swished her head and said, “Flight training.”

“You need a parent’s permission for that,” he complained.

Emma shrugged. “She’s essentially my mother.”

Jake couldn’t dispute that fact.

“How did you pay for this?” he asked.

“Sirena paid. By the way, we got some really cool photos of the ranch.”

“You did this in Cedar City?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “But you must know that I don’t just have my private pilot license. I have my Instrument Rating and Multi-Engine Rating.”

“How did you get the hours for that?” he asked.

“Remember, Daddy, last year you were away for weeks at a time. We practically lived at the airport then. But she also taught me various languages at the same time. Multitasking.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be pissed off or proud of his daughter.

“We’ll talk later about this,” Jake said. “Can you get us back to Ushuaia?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “Destination is already punched into the GPS. We have plenty of fuel. Should be a piece of cake.”

He wished she hadn’t said that. But he let his daughter do her work as he pulled the co-pilot’s body out of the cockpit and dragged the man to the cargo area, setting him on his back next to his friend.

Then Jake pulled out his phone and sent a simple text to Sirena. ‘Emma can fly a plane? We need to talk.’

17

Madrid, Spain

Sirena heard her phone buzz on the nightstand between the two single beds in the boutique hotel her and Maria had rented for the night.

She saw the text and mumbled, “Oh, oh. I’m in trouble.”

“What now?” Maria said, sitting up in her bed.

“Jake somehow found out I’ve been giving his daughter flight lessons.”

“Without him knowing?” Maria asked.

Sirena shrugged and said, “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

“You’re lucky you’re sleeping with him,” Maria said. “I’ve heard what he does to people who cross him.”

She hoped her relationship with Jake was more than simply sex. But they had never really defined what they had together. Sirena didn’t think either of them needed a definition.

Changing the subject, Sirena said, “We need to talk about what just happened in that alley.”

Maria swung her legs to the floor. “Our hacker was shot.”

“No kidding. But who did it, and why?”

The wheels were turning in Maria’s head. She had obviously already been thinking about this.

Finally, Maria said, “What’s the first rule of assassination?”

Sirena shrugged. “Kill the assassin.”

“Right. Our hacker was the assassin. So to speak.”

She had a point, Sirena knew. “Okay. They get access to our system by beating the crap out of our cell phone plant manager in Lisbon. Then that information is relayed to our hacker here in Madrid. He gets in through a backdoor.”

“Which Sancho has already fixed,” Maria said.

“Right. And I know Sancho. He won’t let this happen again. I can guarantee that.”

Maria cocked her head to one side and said, “But the big question is why does someone want to mess with the Gomez Organization in the first place?”

That’s what had been driving Sirena crazy since the first attack on her and Maria in Plaza Mayor recently. “They obviously got some information on all of us,” Sirena said. “That hacker knew me.”

“And me,” Maria reminded Serina.

“Jake also,” Sirena reasoned. “But none of us have been that active in the organization recently.”

Maria thought about that with a contemplative expression. Then she said, “But Jake developed security for Gomez. And you helped. Then you brought me in, along with a number of other former intel officers. Maybe Jake was the main target and you were next on the hit list.”

Sirena swept her hand through the air in front of her. “What if this is all a distraction?”

Moving to the edge of the bed, Maria said, “You mean, look over here at this shiny object. Then pow! They pound it home.”

“Are you making a sexual reference?”

“It has been a while, Sirena,” Maria said.

“We need to find you a man.”

“Hey, I can fight through,” Maria said. “That’s why God gave me fingers and a healthy imagination.”

Sirena’s phone buzzed. She expected it to be Jake but saw immediately that it came from Sancho in Porto, Portugal.

“Yes,” Sirena said in her SAT phone. “You’re on speaker with Maria.”

“I see you’re in one of those tiny hotels,” Sancho said.

Sirena was beginning to hate being constantly tracked. “Yeah. Less people to get killed in the crossfire if things go south.”

“Speaking of south,” Sancho said. “Jake and Emma have an issue. But I’ll get back to that in a minute. First, the Bulgarian hacker that was just killed. He was with NIS, the Bulgarian National Intelligence Service.”

“Was?”

“Well, is, was,” Sancho said. “Until his death. But the name was bogus. Real name was Victor Stoyanov. He was married with two children.”

Wow, Sirena thought. He had told them the truth about that.

“Okay,” Sirena said. “Why are the Bulgarians hacking into a private company. More importantly, why are they trying to kill us?”

“Still working on that,” Sancho said. “Josie has a theory.”

Josie came over the line and said, “I know it’s way out there, but hear me out. There are two theories. First, the Bulgarians have gone rogue and are working with someone in the EU to bring down our organization.”

Maria said, “Why would they do that?”

“No idea,” Josie said. “However, we were able to trace Stoyanov’s last communications more precisely at the EU.”

Sirena glanced across to Maria. “And?” she asked.

After a brief hesitation, Josie said, “And, Stoyanov was in contact with a Bulgarian diplomat.”

“Conclusion?” Sirena asked.

“Well,” Josie said. “It looks like these are not rogue officers.”

“Or,” Sirena said. “The diplomat is rogue and has ordered these intelligence officers to do his bidding.”

“Her,” Josie said.

“Okay,” Sirena said. “How far up the food chain is this Bulgarian woman?”

“Nina Petkova,” Josie said. “She’s pretty high up the chain. She works at the European Commission as a Commissioner of Innovation and Science. Besides working for the EU, she reports directly to the Bulgarian prime minister.”

Sirena let out a breath of air and shook her head. “This could go all the way to the top.”

“How do we deal with that?” Maria asked.

Sancho said, “I recommend you go to Belgium and speak directly with this Nina Petkova.”

“How do we find her?” Sirena asked.

Clearing his throat, Sancho said, “I’m tracking her phone.”

Good boy, Sirena thought. “Josie, you mentioned another theory.”

“Right,” Josie said. “Based on the two men Jake had to. . .eliminate, this could be another entity who has hired former officers, since those two were former officers with Romanian intelligence.”

“Well,” Sirena said. “We’re all former intel officers. Their employer could be anyone, including that Bulgarian woman, Petkova.”

“True,” Josie agreed. “We won’t know until you have a conversation with her. You know what I mean.”

Sirena did know. But she would rather have Jake do that kind of interrogation. He was much better at persuasion than her.

“Alright,” Sirena said. “We’ll head to Belgium in the morning. Now, what about Jake?”

Sancho said, “Jake and his daughter are flying back to Ushuaia on one of those old Otter aircraft. The pilot and co-pilot have been killed.”

“Who’s flying the plane?” Sirena asked.

“Apparently, Emma,” Sancho said.

Sirena smiled at that thought. “Thanks for the info. On the Belgium front, I’ll expect a full dossier on the Bulgarian woman by morning.”

“Roger that,” Sancho said.

“Sleep tight,” Josie chimed in.

Sirena set her phone on the nightstand between the two beds.

“Are you alright?” Maria asked.

Nodding, Sirena said, “I’m proud of Emma. Now I’m glad I taught her how to fly.”

Sirena clicked off the light and she tried to sleep. But she wasn’t sure that was possible until she knew the fate of Jake and Emma.

18

Ushuaia, Argentina

The Twin Otter bounced around for the entire flight while Emma had taken over the controls. Jake had watched his daughter grasp the yoke each time the aircraft had no longer been able to maintain autopilot. Instead of reengaging autopilot, Emma had decided to take control of the flight herself.

Now they were flying low over the outer islands of the tip of South America, with the lights of Ushuaia ahead in the distance, coming in and out of view with the swirling clouds.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Jake asked from the co-pilot’s seat.

Without looking at her father, Emma said, “Do we have a choice?”

“Good point. Carry on.”

The lower she flew the more turbulence they hit, forcing her to grasp the yoke with all her strength.

As they got closer, Jake had contacted Police Inspector Luca Campo, the homicide inspector in charge of the death of Gerhard Burk. He agreed to meet them on the tarmac outside of End of the World Aviation. Jake didn’t tell the man that they had two dead pilots aboard their plane, though.

Emma lined up the Otter for their final approach, but their plane kept shifting sideways with a heavy crosswind. Still, she was able to drop the aircraft toward the runway with relative ease.

The air traffic controller informed Emma she was coming in too fast.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Emma said to nobody in particular. “I need more speed to overcome this crosswind.” Then she let out a heavy breath and said to ATC, “Adjusting speed now.”

Jake kept his gaze mostly upon the runway ahead, but occasionally he would glance at Emma to make sure she was alright. He had to admit that Sirena had taught her well. He was proud of his daughter.

They touched down with a slight bounce and Emma powered down the engine. Luckily, the Otter was designed for conditions like this, and to take off and land on short runways.

Emma let out an audible sigh of relief as she taxied the Otter toward the private aviation building.

Jake could see the police inspector standing out on the tarmac waiting for them.

“Is that the police officer from town?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Jake said. “I texted him to meet us here. He doesn’t know about the dead pilots, though. Let me do the talking.”

“Fine with me,” she said. Then she taxied to a stop and cut the engines.

Jake got up and put his hand on her shoulder. “Nice job, Emma. We wouldn’t have made it without you.”

She smiled and nodded.

“Stay put until I talk with the inspector,” Jake said.

Before leaving the cockpit, Jake picked up the soft cooler containing the last sandwich, which he suspected would contain the same poison that had killed both pilots.

Opening the door to the Otter, Jake was greeted immediately by Inspector Luca Campo. Cool air touched Jake’s exposed skin with the same heavy breeze that had made their landing so treacherous.

“What was so important to call me out so late?” the inspector asked.

Jake stepped down to the tarmac and raised the cooler slightly. “Inside here is a sandwich. Inside the sandwich is a poison of some type. You need to analyze this and find out who poisoned those on our flight.”

The police inspector took the cooler from Jake, confused. “I do not understand.”

Jake explained how they had made it to Antarctica without incident. He had looked over the crime scene and found nothing of significance. Jake didn’t mention the small cross he had found, or that he had confiscated the laptop owned by Gerhard Burk, the victim. Instead, he had the inspector stick his head into the Otter to show him the two dead pilots.

“They are dead?” the inspector asked.

“Yes,” Jake said. “The big sleep. I guess I should have told you to bring an ambulance or some other transport for the bodies.”

“You say the pilots were killed by sandwiches?”

“Apparently,” Jake said. “Someone tried to kill us all, but we had eaten just before our flight. Luckily, we didn’t eat with the pilots.”

“You and your assistant,” Campo said. “The young lady.”

“That’s right.”

“This happened on the way back?” Campo said. “Then who flew and landed the plane?”

“My assistant is a pilot,” Jake said. “She took over once the pilots were incapacitated.”

“Lucky for you she was with you.”

“Agreed.”

The inspector took out his phone and drifted away from the Otter to make a call.

Jake went back into the plane to retrieve Emma and the laptop from the researcher.

The next hour was a cluster of activity, with the police inspector asking Emma the same questions, and her answers the same as Jake’s. The truth was always easy. Lies were harder to coordinate. The only lie Emma had told the inspector was the fact that she was Jake’s assistant and not his daughter.

Once the inspector was sure he had gotten all that he needed from Jake and Emma, he released them.

They got to their rental vehicle in the parking lot of the private airline, Jake behind the wheel and Emma next to him in the passenger seat.

Emma finally said, “Are things always this crazy around you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I need to say it?” she asked.

He started the engine and let it warm up some in the cool night air.

“Okay,” Emma said. “We get down here and two men attack me in our rental unit. You show up and kill them. So, we go to Antarctica and on the way back the two pilots are poisoned and end up dead. That’s four dead guys in a couple of days. What’s in store for us tomorrow?”

Jake hadn’t told Emma that Sirena had been attacked a couple of times in Spain and Portugal. No need to worry her even more. He just knew he needed to get his daughter out of Argentina.

“I’m just down here to see why our researcher was murdered,” Jake said. “All this other nonsense is peripheral.”

“It seems related,” Emma said.

She had a good point, of course.

“Everything is related,” Jake agreed. “But there’s more to this story than a simple murder investigation.”

“I’m beginning to understand that,” she said.

Instead of going to any place they had stayed in Ushuaia, Jake took them to a larger, posh hotel in downtown, with a view of the harbor from their top floor room.

After setting their bags down and taking in the view of the port below, Emma said, “Daddy, could you tell me something?”

“Anything, dear,” he said.

“Okay. We’ve checked into three different places since coming here, and you’ve used a different name and passport each time. Also, you’ve used a different language or accent each time. What the hell?”

Jake walked back into the room and took a seat on the edge of one bed. Emma sat across from him on the other bed.

“I’m old enough to know the truth, Daddy.”

Maybe she was, he thought. But she was still his little baby. Finally, Jake said, “You know that we work for Carlos Gomez, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, we worked for other organizations back in the day,” Jake said

“Like the CIA,” she surmised.

“Among others,” Jake said. “But I’ve been private for a long time. The problem is others don’t seem to understand this fact.”

“Once a spy always a spy?” she asked.

“Something like that. But there’s more going on now. Gomez is involved with many different ventures. Some have rubbed people the wrong way.”

“Such as?”

He really didn’t want to get into the details with his daughter. “Let’s just say that businesses can be brutal in their pursuit of profits. There’s a lot of money to be made in the high-tech industry. There will always be winners and losers.”

Emma seemed to understand. She nodded at least.

Jake continued, “We will be leaving tomorrow. I requested a jet and one is being rerouted from up north. By this time tomorrow you’ll be sleeping in your own bed.”

She plopped her body back onto the bed and said, “I don’t know. This one seems pretty comfortable.”

“Why don’t you shower first,” Jake said.

Emma sat up and smelled her underarm. “I guess I sweat a lot on that flight.” She got up and went to the bathroom.

While she was gone, Jake pulled out the researcher’s laptop. He had told Sancho and his team to always allow Jake to access any device owned by the Gomez Organization. Jake fired up the laptop and found his way into the computer with ease. Then he searched quickly as he heard the shower running in the other room. Once he found the researcher’s files, Jake encrypted the folder, compressed the file and then connected the computer to his satellite phone. Now he sent the compressed folder to Sancho and his team, who would decipher Burk’s research. If they couldn’t do it, Sancho would find someone who could.

By now the shower had ended and he waited for Sancho to acknowledge that he had gotten the files.

Just as Emma exited the bathroom, Jake got a text back from Sancho saying he had gotten the folder and extracted the files to their system.

Jake shut down the laptop and closed it.

“Are you still working?” Emma asked, still patting down her long hair.

Glancing at his daughter, and seeing more and more of her mother in her, Jake said, “Not anymore.” He got up from the small desk and stretched.

“You should shower, too,” Emma said.

Smelling himself, Jake said, “Well, I did have a crazy pilot that almost killed us.”

She threw her towel at him. “I saved your butt.”

He smiled and went to shower.

By the time he got back out to the room, Emma was in bed and sleeping soundly.

Just as Jake got into bed, his phone buzzed again. He checked the screen and saw that it was from Sirena. Her and her friend, Maria, were heading to Belgium.

19

Guiana Space Centre, French Guiana

The sun was thinking about rising over the Atlantic as Carlos Gomez paced back and forth in the observation tower awaiting the launch of the largest spacecraft they had ever attempted to put in space. The large craft was exactly ten kilos heavier than those the Americans were frequently launching, which brought great joy to Gomez. Now they just needed everything to go as planned.

Clouds drifted slowly over their position but were expected to disperse within the next half hour or so. They could launch with the clouds. But the wind could be a problem, he knew.

The French Guiana Prefect, Charles Babin, was escorted into the observation post, accompanied by his female assistant.

“A beautiful day for a launch,” Babin said, reaching his hand out to shake with Gomez.

They shook hands and then took seats in the brown leather chairs. The assistant found a place in the corner and stood like a guard over her boss.

“Let us hope the day is truly beautiful,” Gomez said. “Perhaps you could get your people to help those clouds disperse.”

Babin pointed toward the sky and said, “Only God can do that.”

Although a normally pious believer, Gomez found himself praying and hoping for the best of luck. Whatever it took for a successful launch. Right now, despite the early hour, Gomez would have liked a nice stiff drink to calm his nerves. It wasn’t simply the money he had on the line. It was his pride.

Gomez got a text and saw that it was from his security team in Portugal. His people had found the hacker in Spain, and Jake was getting ready to fly out of Tierra del Fuego as soon as the Gulfstream reached Ushuaia. Jake had gotten the researcher’s work and had sent it to Sancho. But it would take them a while to have an expert in the field of heliophysics brought in to decipher Burk’s work. Gomez typed back, saying good work and to continue carrying on.

“Everything alright?” the Prefect asked.

Gomez nodded. “Just normal business.”

“I understand the sun never sets on the Gomez Organization,” Babin said, almost as if he were mocking the company.

“That is a mantra we use often,” Gomez said proudly.

Instead of alcoholic drinks, the two of them were offered soft drinks and energy drinks. Gomez took a Coke and Babin went with a higher caffeine. The assistant waved off anything.

The countdown began just as the two men got their drinks. Fifteen minutes.

Now, the command center was projected on two large TV screens in the observation room. One screen showed the rocket on the launch pad. A second screen showed Gomez and his guest a view of the command center, along with a split screen showing close up views of screens that were filled with technical data. Gomez didn’t understand all of this data, but he knew enough to ask the right people the right questions.

Five minutes.

Gomez was starting to get nervous. He had finished most of his Coke by now, and was considering getting another one, since his mouth seemed to be getting dryer by the minute. Instead he finished his drink and got up from his chair, pacing closer to the large windows overlooking the rocket on the launch pad in the distance.

“Here we go,” Gomez said.

The Prefect came up alongside Gomez and finished the last of his energy drink, before throwing the can with a clank into a metal trash can.

One minute.

Gomez kept glancing at the screen with the technical data. Everything seemed normal and within proper parameters.

Now, a soft voice came over the speakers and spoke the numbers as they worked their way down from thirty seconds.

As the numbers subsided, all eyes were on the massive spacecraft as it lifted off the pad. The launch happened simultaneously to the sun barely creeping over the horizon to the east.

The clouds had parted, as if God himself had swished them away with his breath alone.

Just as the spacecraft reached a height prior to separation of the booster rockets, something suddenly went wrong. The explosion was spectacular and sent the craft into thousands of pieces, with the majority of the largest fragments falling out on the Atlantic Ocean. But one section went to the west and would fall into the dense jungle.

Gomez was stunned. It was a catastrophic failure. But how had there been no warning? He glanced to his right at the Prefect and the man had a dumbfounded expression on his round face.

Glancing at the screen, the command center personnel were scrambling for answers.

When his phone buzzed, Gomez pulled the SAT phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. There were no words. There was only a black image with a symbol in the middle showing four crossed lines, with an arrow point on each side. Behind the symbol were flames.

“What is that?” Babin asked. The Prefect was close enough to see the screen.

“That is the symbol of chaos,” Gomez said.

Next came a number of additional texts from everyone from the command center director to Sancho in Portugal. The call then came in from the command center director.

Before answering the call, Gomez walked away from the Prefect to an isolated corner of the observation room. “What happened?” Gomez asked.

“Sir, somehow the self-destruct was initiated,” the man said.

“How?”

“We thought it came from you.”

“Why would I do that?”

No answer.

“Find out what happened and get back to me,” Gomez ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Now Gomez looked at the text from Sancho. He said there was a temporary breech of their system again. This time it came from somewhere in South America. Gomez glanced at Prefect Charles Babin, who stood innocently glancing out the window toward the jungle to the west.

Gomez called Sancho and said, “Find the breech. And redirect Jake Adams here.”

“Gulfstream Six is landing in Ushuaia as we speak,” Sancho said.

“Get him here ASAP.”

“Will do, sir.”

Gomez put his phone in his pocket and ignored the additional incoming texts and calls as he rubbed both temples and closed his eyes. He wasn’t worried about the loss of the spacecraft. That’s why he had insurance. No, his concern was the loss of face and faith. At least he didn’t have to worry about shareholders, since his company was not publicly traded. It never would be as long as he was alive.

He needed Jake now more than ever.

20

Ushuaia, Argentina

Jake had promised his daughter he would take her to Chile while they were this close to that country. So, they had gotten up early and Jake had paid a fisherman to take them across the harbor three miles each way to Navarino Island, Chile. They didn’t go to any population center or town. Jake simply had his daughter step onto the rocky shore while he took a couple of shots of her officially in Chile.

Then they crossed the harbor again back to the hotel, ate breakfast, and checked out of the hotel. He dropped off the rental vehicle at the airport and they waited for the corporate jet to land and taxi toward the private operations building.

As the jet was being refueled, Jake got his first text from Sancho.

‘The boss wants you in Guiana,’ Sancho said.

‘Why?’ Jake asked.

Hesitation. Then, ‘The spacecraft blew up on takeoff. Gomez wants you to look into it.’

“Shit,” Jake said.

“What?” Emma asked.

“We have to take a little detour on the way home,” Jake said.

“Buenos Aires?” she asked with a smile.

“Afraid not,” Jake said. “French Guiana?”

“Is that on the way?” she asked.

“Relatively,” Jake said. He didn’t want to mention the explosion of the spacecraft to Emma. “A perk of getting a free ride in a private jet. Hey, you get another country.”

“Chile was just like Argentina,” she said with disappointment.

“Well,” Jake said. “Expect French Guiana to be just like Brazil. You’ve seen one jungle and you’ve seen them all. Just different monkeys.”

“Wait. There are monkeys involved?”

He shrugged with uncertainty.

“Okay. I’m in.”

“You don’t have a choice, Emma.”

“Still.”

The two of them hoisted their bags over their shoulders and headed out toward the jet on the tarmac.

Jake greeted a crew member he had flown with in the past. “You got word of our detour?”

“Yes, sir,” the crew member said with a Catalan accent. “Sounds like we will be waiting for you in Guiana.”

“French Guiana,” Jake corrected.

“That is what I meant.”

Jake took Emma’s bag and handed it to the man, who put it into the belly of the jet.

Just as Jake got aboard and buckled into his seat, he got a text from Sancho. It simply read, ‘Get out fast.’

‘Why?’ Jake asked.

‘A judge has approved a warrant for your arrest.’

‘Why?’

‘The inspector found out you ordered the sandwiches.’

‘I didn’t order them,’ Jake said.

‘I figured that,’ Sancho said.

The engines turned and the pilot started to taxi.

Just then the lone female flight attendant, whom Jake had also worked with in the past, came back to him and whispered into his ear.

Unbuckling, Jake rushed toward the cockpit. He opened the door and leaned in. “What’s going on?”

“ATC does not want to clear us for takeoff,” one of the pilots said.

“Screw that,” Jake said. “Take off now. That’s an order.” Jake went back to his seat.

The pilots were used to situations like this. They simply shrugged and taxied toward the end of the runway, pretending not to hear the air traffic controllers.

Within seconds they took off without proper clearance.

Jake glanced out the window next to him and saw the police cars with lights flashing heading toward the private operations building.

Once airborne, Jake got up and went back to the cockpit. “Thanks, boys,” Jake said. “I recommend you stay out of Argentine airspace until we can get this cleared up.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot said.

Jake went back to his seat.

“What’s going on?” Emma asked.

Waving off his daughter, Jake leaned back and thought about what had happened. Someone had used his current persona to order those sandwiches that killed the two pilots. How did they know his persona? It had to be associated with the hacking of the Gomez system. Now Jake needed to dig deeper into his bag of tricks. Stay focused and use that which nobody knew about, not even the Gomez Organization. Not even Sirena was familiar with all of his past.

•

Sirena sat back in her first-class seat on the Barcelona to Paris high speed train, her eyes trying to concentrate on the passing landscape, but her mind traveling faster with thoughts of this case. She had gotten a text from Sancho saying Jake and Emma had taken off from Ushuaia, Argentina, but there had been a problem of some kind with the local police. Not a problem, she thought. Just never go back to the End of the World. Problem solved.

She glanced at Maria in the seat next to her. That woman could sleep anywhere at any time.

They had taken the fast train from Madrid to Barcelona earlier that morning, changed trains with an eighteen minute layover, and were now about an hour out of Paris. Then they would have another short layover before boarding their last train to Brussels. The trains were faster than driving, and much more relaxing. Although the total trip would take them twelve hours, that was better than waiting for a Gomez corporate jet. And they couldn’t fly commercially with their guns and the need to use a company or personal visa. Trains were still relatively private.

Sirena’s phone buzzed and she waited to answer it until she put in her comm device in her right ear.

“Yeah,” Sirena whispered.

“You’re on the train to Paris,” Jake said.

“We are. I haven’t checked. Where are you?”

“Closing in on Guiana.”

“I heard what happened there,” Sirena said. “Is he having you look into it?”

“I don’t know what I can do,” Jake said.

“Our people think the breech was within country,” she said, keeping her language simple in case someone could overhear her conversation.

“I’ll do what I can,” he said.

“I know you will.” She hesitated and glanced at Maria again. “What about your. . .passenger?”

“Still with me,” Jake said. “I don’t think I should send her home yet. That location could be compromised.”

She hadn’t really thought about that possibility. “What about your first born?”

“Karl is still off grid,” Jake said.

“Good for him. Better he doesn’t know about this.”

“This trip for his family is long overdue.” Jake paused for a moment, as if he were speaking with someone else on the jet. Then he said, “Emma says hi.”

Sirena smiled and said, “Same.”

“Listen, I haven’t gotten the full story on why you’re going to Belgium,” Jake said.

“Well, I certainly can’t explain that now,” she said. “Not on this train. Although there’s nobody around us.”

“Understood,” Jake said. “I’ll eventually catch up with you.”

“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” she said, glancing at the scene passing by again, but really checking out the rest of the train car in the reflection.

“They’re not just messing with the Gomez Organization,” Jake said. “They’re messing with you and me.”

“Understood,” she agreed. “But let me assess the situation first before we call in the Army.”

“Cavalry,” Jake corrected.

“You know what I mean.”

“Alright. Stay safe and stay in touch.”

“Will do,” she said.

The line went blank so she put her phone back in her pocket.

“How is he?” Maria said, and then barely opened her eyes.

“Wants to meet us in Belgium,” Sirena said.

“I hate to admit it,” Maria said, “but we might need him.”

Sirena knew this also, but she was also not prone to ask for help from a man or a woman. Somehow, she always got the job done.

“Let’s see what we can discover on our own,” Sirena said.

“I thought you would want to see your man,” Maria said.

“Always. But he doesn’t need to know this.”

Maria put her hand on Sirena’s forearm. “I understand.” She glanced up and down the aisle and added, “But three guns are better than two.”

Sirena couldn’t disagree with her friend.

21

Brussels, Belgium

Just east of the downtown of the Belgium capital sat the heart of the European Union, the Berlaymont Building, which housed the European Commission, representing 27 member states and nearly half a billion people. A few blocks from this massive building was Parc du Cinquantenaire, or Park of the Fiftieth Anniversary. This park was a labyrinth of gardens, greenspace and multiple museums, along with an arch that somewhat resembled the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin.

Nina Petkova, EU Commissioner of Innovation and Science from Bulgaria, walked with determination in her high heels and long overcoat that swished up in the cold January breeze. Her blonde hair flowed elegantly over her strong shoulders with each step.

She hated to meet at all. But she had gotten an urgent message to meet at the designated spot at two in the afternoon. Checking her watch, she saw that she was a few minutes late.

Turning right onto a small path, she could see her contact standing at a cross path ahead. Here the tall trees would normally cover each path, but the leaves had fallen months ago, leaving naked branches above her.

Nina didn’t know much about her contact. Only his affiliation with the Bulgarian National Intelligence Service. He had never given her a name. At least not a real one. But she wasn’t a complete idiot. She had confirmed the man’s authenticity with her government in Sofia. She only knew the man as Goran.

As she got closer, she saw Goran take the last puff on his cigarette before dropping it to the moist ground beside him.

She stopped a few feet from the large man and waited for him to speak.

When Goran simply stared at her, she got a bit nervous.

“Our man in Spain is no longer a loose end,” Goran finally said with his distinct Bulgarian Rhodopes Mountain dialect.

She brushed loose hair away from her face and tried her best not to react to this news. “He was never my loose end,” she said. “What more can you want from me?”

The NIS man cracked his neck and then pulled out another cigarette, offered one to her, which she declined, and then lit his cigarette, taking in a deep breath. He let out the smoke and simultaneously said, “There is always more, Nina. I thought you knew this.”

Nina shook her head almost imperceptibly. The NIS had too much on her to complain. She was stuck and she knew it.

“I have allowed you access to our system,” Nina said. “But I don’t know how long that can happen without being caught.”

Goran refused to look at her directly, like a man avoiding a full eclipse of the sun. He said, “You let me worry about the system. Do as I say and you will be done with us soon.”

She doubted this was true. But what could she do?

•

Having followed the woman from the EU Berlaymont Building, the young man pretended to be on a leisurely walk through the park on this sunny winter afternoon. With a directional parabolic microphone built into his hat, he could hear the entire conversation by the two Bulgarians. His training at Monterey had been extensive in this language, so he was able to understand everything in real time. The EU Commissioner of Innovation and Science for Bulgaria, Nina Petkova, was obviously from the capital Sofia. But the man, whoever he was, had to be from the mountain region to the west of the capital.

When a name suddenly came up that sounded familiar to him, he tapped his comm and said into the mic, “Tell me you’re recording this? The name Jake Adams sounds familiar.”

“Affirmative on the recording,” his contact said. “Running his name through the system now.”

“Two,” the man said. “Can you get a shot of the male contact.”

“Already on it,” came the reply from his colleague across the park.

The young man continued to walk slowly toward the meeting, making sure not to get too close.

Then, over his comm, the young man got word on the man named Jake Adams. “The name we ran was flagged and we couldn’t find a thing.”

The young man knew exactly what that meant. “Well, you better run it up the chain and explain how we came across it. It sounds like these people want him dead.”

Command confirmed with a curt response.

What the hell was going on?

22

French Guiana

Jake and Emma landed in the Gomez jet and a dark SUV was waiting for them on the tarmac. Jake recognized the large driver, since he had hired the man years ago to head up the private security of Carlos Gomez. He was a former Polish commando, who reminded Jake of a hairless gorilla. Jake shook the man’s hand as he got off the jet. He didn’t introduce his daughter.

Jake collected their bags and threw them into the back of the SUV. Jake got into the front seat next to the driver and Emma sat behind him in the back seat alone.

“Other than sweating your balls off,” Jake said, “how do you like Guiana?”

The driver started the engine and smiled at Jake. He said, “The boss is hotter than the air.”

“I’ll bet,” Jake said. “At least it wasn’t a manned spacecraft. Nobody got hurt on the ground, right?”

“Maybe a few monkeys in the jungle,” the driver said.

“Aww,” Emma said from the back seat.

Jake looked around his seat and said, “He’s kidding.”

The driver casually shook his head as he pulled away. They left the private airfield and headed down a remote narrow paved road.

Jake’s phone buzzed and he saw that a call was coming in from Sancho. He considered ignoring it for now, but then decided he should pick up the call.

“Yeah,” Jake said.

“Hey, I see you landed,” Sancho said. “Listen, I just got a strange call from a guy named Ray Chavez. He said he knew you and needed to talk.”

Sometimes a name came up that sent Jake back twenty or thirty years. Ray Chavez was one of those names.

“Sir?” Sancho said. “What should I tell the guy?”

“Are you sure he just said Ray?” Jake asked.

“Yes, sir. Why?”

Jake knew that name. In fact, Ray Chavez was one of those former colleagues Jake had kept track of over the years.

“Did he leave a number?” Jake asked.

“He did,” Sancho said. “I told him if you wanted to talk you’d call him back. He said it was important.”

It would have to be, Jake thought, since he hadn’t spoken with Ray Chavez in years. “Text me his number,” Jake said.

“Roger that.”

The call was cut off and then a text came through almost immediately.

Turning to the driver, Jake asked, “How long before we get to the launch site?”

“Ten minutes,” the driver said.

“Pull over,” Jake ordered.

The driver found a patch of dirt on the side of the road and he pulled into that, but he kept the engine running.

“Everything alright?” the driver asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said, unbuckling and opening the door. “I just need to make a phone call.”

“Sir,” the driver said. “Don’t wander into the high grass. There are many poisonous snakes in there.”

Jake gave the driver a thumbs up and closed the door.

The driver nodded and kept the engine running to keep the air conditioning blowing.

Wandering a few feet from the SUV and turning his back, Jake took out his phone and tapped the number Sancho had sent him.

The phone rang only once before a familiar voice came over. “Jake, is that you?”

“I take it this is not the snotnosed second lieutenant I once trained,” Jake said.

Ray Chavez laughed and said, “Still a lieutenant. But now I’m a lieutenant general.”

“Should I stand at attention and salute you?” Jake quipped.

“Still a smartass,” the general said.

“If there were an Olympic event for smart ass, I’d have a few gold medals by now. What can I do for you?”

The general cleared his throat. “Can we talk freely?”

“I won’t charge you, if that’s what you mean.”

“Smart ass. I’m guessing you’re probably in some nursing home eating pudding by now.”

“Wow. You learned.”

“From the best,” the general said. “Anyway, your name came up in one of our operations. You were flagged and it went up the chain to me.”

Jake tried to remember the last position Ray Chavez had been assigned to. He knew Chavez worked his way up the chain in Air Force Intelligence before moving into the Defense Intelligence Agency. More importantly, Jake had guessed the man had been part of the DIAs Defense Clandestine Service or DCS. But it wasn’t like officers put that on their resume until after they retired.

“Are you still with DCS?” Jake asked, fishing.

“You always were a smart cookie,” the general said. “I left DCS for something higher.”

“Don’t tell me they made you Director,” Jake said.

“You didn’t hear?”

“I’m afraid I’m not held in high regard by those in the D.C. establishment,” Jake said.

“No kidding. Probably since you schooled those politicians years ago at the congressional hearing.”

To name just one incident, Jake thought.

Disregarding the general, Jake said, “I suppose you can’t tell me how or where my name came up.”

Silence on the other end of the call. Finally, General Chavez said, “I can only say my people were looking into an issue with NATO.”

“Can you be a little more vague?” Jake asked.

“You know the game, Jake.”

Yeah, unfortunately he did. “It’s my name someone is floating around.”

“I know,” Chavez said. “That’s why I’m calling you.”

“Okay. What can you tell me?”

“These people don’t like you much,” Chavez said. “They want you dead.”

“They need to take a number.”

Chavez laughed. “I heard you might have pissed off a few people in your past.”

“Past and present, obviously,” Jake said. “Probably the future as well.” After a moment of silence, Jake said, “At least tell which direction they’re coming from.”

“Let’s just say the nationality,” Chavez said.

“Okay.”

“They’re Bulgarian.”

Great, more Bulgarians. Bulgarians and Romanians. What do the Balkan states have against him? Or, more importantly, against the Gomez Organization.

“You don’t seem surprised,” General Chavez said.

Now that Jake knew he could have an advocate in high places, he decided to level with Ray Chavez. “I’ve been attacked recently in Argentina. Nearly killed a couple of times. Indications are the attackers were Bulgarian and Romanian.”

“Intel types?” Chavez asked.

“Why do you say that?”

Hesitation. Then Chavez said, “The guy who said your name is with the Bulgarian National Intelligence Service.”

Something suddenly struck Jake as odd. He had used multiple identities while in Ushuaia, Argentina. How had they equated these names to his real name? Jake wasn’t even sure that anyone within the Gomez Organization knew these personas. Now he might need to build some new legends.

“Wait a minute,” Jake said. “Why are you investigating Bulgaria? They’ve been NATO members since Two Thousand Four.”

“I didn’t say we were investigating them,” Chavez corrected. Now he seemed to hedge as he halted his speech.

“Spit it out, Ray,” Jake said. “I still remember how you didn’t like to give bad news.”

“It’s not that, Jake. I’m not sure how much I can tell a civilian.”

“Remember who trained your ass.”

“I know. And I appreciate that. This is Top Secret.”

Jake didn’t hear the SCI designation. “Continue.”

“Well, the Bulgarian government asked our government for help.”

Now Jake was starting to understand. “They think they have a rogue officer.”

“Officers,” Chavez said. “They couldn’t trust an internal investigation.”

“What level did this investigation start?” Jake asked.

“Prime Minister to President,” Chavez said. “Our President brought me in personally.”

“Why not use the Agency?” Jake asked.

“Those corrupt assholes? The President doesn’t trust them.”

For good reason, Jake thought. Some guessed the CIA was behind most of the bad shit going down in the country over the past decades, from the assassination of JFK to the present.

Jake considered the fact that Sirena and Maria were currently on their way to Brussels at this moment. Was everything going on with them and Jake related to the investigation being conducted by the DIA? Jake didn’t believe in coincidences.

“I need the name of the major players you’re investigating in Belgium,” Jake said. It came across more as an order than a request.

“This is an ongoing operation,” Chavez said.

“I know,” Jake said. “That’s why I need to know the players.”

After some internal mental gymnastics, General Chavez finally said, “The Bulgarian officer’s name is Goran. That’s all we know.”

“You know how many Goran’s there are in Bulgaria?”

“Did you get that?”

Jake had heard a text come in. He looked at the screen and saw an imperfect image of a man in his 50s.

“Is that as good as it gets?” Jake asked.

“For now.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “So, this Goran mentioned my name. Who was he speaking with?”

“The target of our investigation,” Chavez said.

“Name!”

“A woman named Nina Petkova,” Chavez said. “She works at the EU. The Bulgarian Commissioner of Innovation and Science.”

“I thought you were looking into something to do with NATO?”

“One thing led to another,” Chavez said. “You know how that works.”

Jake did in fact. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Let me guess,” Chavez said. “You’re going to Belgium?”

He was. But he said, “If I do, I’ll need a contact with your people on the ground.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Chavez said.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Jake said, “Listen, Ray. Give me a name or expect friendly fire.”

“Jesus, you’re still a pain in the ass.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

Reluctantly, General Chavez agreed. In fact, he didn’t just give the man’s name and contact number. He sent along a photo of the man for identification.

“Thanks, Ray,” Jake said. “I’ll be heading to Belgium as soon as I’m done here.”

“Looking into the Gomez spacecraft explosion?” the general asked.

Jake should have guessed the man would know his location, even though Jake’s SAT phone was encrypted and the signal bounced around the world. His faith in the DIA was somehow marginally restored by this revelation.

“Not much I can do,” Jake said. “But it was on my way from Argentina.”

“Alright,” Chavez said. “I’ll let my people know you’ll be contacting them.”

Jake quickly explained that the contact would come first from a friend of his. He gave General Chavez only Sirena’s name. Nothing more. Then they both hung up.

Glancing back at the SUV, he could see Emma leaning forward and talking with his Polish driver. He turned back to his phone and quickly sent Sirena a text with the two images and the contact information for the DIA officer.

Sirena responded almost immediately with a thumbs up.

Okay, Jake thought. The faster he got the hell out of this steaming jungle the better.

He got back into the SUV and waved for the driver to take off.

“What kind of conspiracy were you two brewing up?” Jake asked both of them.

“Never mind,” Emma said.

The driver was more forthcoming. “She was asking if we could stop for something good to eat.”

Jake nodded his head affirmatively. “Good idea. I could eat. Drive away, my friend.”

As they pulled out onto the road, Jake glanced back casually through the right mirror. A small white sedan, probably a Toyota, pulled out and followed them. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure of their tail before they pulled over, but now he was certain. Great! Now he had his daughter on another potentially dangerous operation.

23

Brussels, Belgium

Early evening was setting in on the Belgian capital as the train pulled slowly into the main station. Sirena had gotten the message from Jake to meet up with a Defense Intelligence Agency officer assigned to their Defense Clandestine Service, which worked alongside the CIA and other agencies dealing with human intelligence. She had worked with the DIA and the DCS in her past when she was drawing a check from the U.S. government. But that was years ago.

Sirena had gotten Sancho and his crew to do a quick background check on the officer they would meet. He was an Air Force captain like Jake had been, but most of his background was not in any system they could access. She had a photo of the man, along with a photo of the other two targets of the DIA investigation. The EU woman, Nina Petkova, was easy to background. She was the kind of woman who posted selfies with everyone from restaurant waiters to silver and gold-sprayed street mimes in downtown Brussels and elsewhere around Europe. For a woman with Petkova’s education in science, she seemed far too self-centered. Then came the shadow ghost, Goran. He had no surname. No background. Nothing. They didn’t even know if Goran was his real name. Sirena suspected it was one of many aliases.

The train finally pulled to a stop and Maria nudged Sirena from her revery.

“Ready?” Maria asked.

“Always.”

“I hope you learned more than I did,” Maria said.

“I’d like to have more,” Sirena agreed.

Maria got up and grabbed both bags from the overhead. “Let’s go. Chances are they have been dirtbagging us.”

“Sandbagging,” Sirena said.

“Idioms can be idiotic,” Maria said with a shake of her head.

Sirena couldn’t disagree with her friend.

They got off the train and went through the central train station to the outside. Darkness was nearly complete, with a yellow glow still visible toward the edge of the city. The January air was cool and damp, despite the North Sea being 60 miles away.

They could have connected with the Metro system and gone toward their hotel that way but decided to take a taxi to the general direction of their hotel, getting out a couple of blocks away in the European Quarter of Brussels, within walking distance of the EU Headquarters building.

After walking to their hotel and checking in, they hesitated only a few minutes to take in the view of the Berlaymont Building, the heart of the European Union, and the location of the Gomez Organization data breech. It was also the location where the Bulgarian Commissioner of Innovation and Science had her office.

Sirena and Maria showered and then changed from their grungy travel clothes into fresh dark clothing, preparing for their meeting with the American DIA officer.

Heading out into the cool evening air, Sirena set a leisurely pace as they walked toward their meeting site, a small outdoor restaurant and bar at the edge of Parc du Cinquantenaire, which sat a few blocks from the EU headquarters building.

“Will this guy be alone?” Maria asked.

“No idea,” Sirena said. “Back in the day, I would have had backup. Even though we’ve probably been properly vetted by the DIA.”

“The guy looks pretty hot.”

“He looks twelve.”

“His file says he’s twenty-eight,” Maria reminded her.

“Single,” Sirena said. “He’s probably gay.”

“I don’t think so. I heard they can openly marry now in your Air Force.”

Sirena rubbed her arm against her gun on her right hip instinctively. It was a casual move of reassurance that couldn’t be picked up by anyone observing them. She put her left hand into her pocket and felt the tiny device she decided to bring with them. Hopefully it would work against the DIA technology.

They got to the park and Sirena saw immediately why the young man had picked this location for a meeting. Many people were out strolling, despite the cooler winter weather. The chill obviously didn’t put a damper on their lives in the Belgian capital.

Walking down the main path toward the massive Royal Museum of Armed Forces, they turned right and headed toward the restaurant bar, which they could see ahead lit up by lights in the naked trees. Sirena’s natural instincts kicked in now. Her eyes scanned her surroundings for potential danger and escape routes if things went south.

“That must be him,” Maria said.

On the outer edge of the outdoor seating, the young man sat alone with his back to all the tables, the kiosk bar, and the main entrance from the pathway.

The man took the obvious strategic chair, Sirena thought. So, he wasn’t a total dolt.

Stopping just inside the entrance near the kiosk, Sirena said, “There’s no waiter or waitress. Could you get us a beer?”

Maria gave her a skeptical glare. “And fries. I’m starving.”

“Fries for me too,” Sirena said.

As Maria went to order, Sirena approached the young man and stopped next to the table.

The young guy got up and greeted Sirena with a fake kiss on each cheek, like a good European, and then she took the second best strategic seat at the table.

Before saying a word, Sirena clicked on the signal scrambler. Now, with her comm in her ear, the only one who could monitor the conversation was Sancho and his team in Portugal.

“So, Captain Lenny Brown,” Sirena said. “What do you have for me?”

The captain leaned back in his chair and seemed to be trying to listen to something, but there was nothing to hear but static in his ear.

“You get right to the point,” Brown said. “You seem to know a lot about me. All I know about you is the fact that our boss said you were cool. Not sure what that means, though.”

She tried on a marginal smile and said, “Much of my file would be redacted even for someone with your clearance.”

His eyes shot across the patio toward Maria. “Who’s your friend?”

“Someone who thinks you’re cute,” Sirena said. “I told her you’re probably gay.”

Brown laughed. “Not likely under any circumstances. I hope I haven’t offended you. Is she your lover?”

This was a test, of course. “Cut the shit! You know my lover. He trained your big boss.”

The young DIA officer smiled and nodded. “That was the rumor from our people.”

“Stop fiddling with your comm receiver,” Sirena scolded. “You’re being jammed.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked.

“Because I have trust issues,” Sirena said.

“You don’t think you can trust our Agency?”

“Nothing personal, but I don’t trust any government agency,” she said. “Especially those civilian forms of alphabet soup.”

“We’re mostly military,” Captain Brown said.

“Which is the only reason I’m sitting here with you tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Truth be told, I also have trust issues. That’s probably why the Commander briefed me personally. That’s a rare thing.”

Sirena knew this also. “So, he told you he knew my friend in a former life?”

“Jake Adams,” Brown said. “A legend.”

Just as he said this, Maria came with the tray holding two beers and the fries in two cardboard baskets.

“He’s not just a legend in his own mind,” Maria said. “He’s the man.”

Sirena introduced the two of them and the young captain got up again to hug and faux kiss Maria on both cheeks like old friends.

They all sat down and Sirena sipped her beer before taking a nibble on a French fry.

The captain said, “I understand you work security for the Gomez Organization and have been under attack.”

Sirena shrugged and said, “We’ve had a few people testing our system. With Jake’s name coming up in your operation, I’m guessing our paths are crossing for a reason.”

“I can’t discuss my operation,” he said.

“Cute but stupid,” Maria said. “I kind of like my men that way.”

“Who is she again?” the captain asked Sirena.

“Not important.”

“Hey,” Maria complained.

“You know what I mean,” Sirena said. Glancing at the DIA captain she added, “Tell us about this Goran.”

Before the captain could respond, Sirena got a quick message in her ear from Sancho, “We’ve identified the man as Goran Pavlov. He was born and grew up in Vidin, Bulgaria.”

She hesitated while she considered what to tell this DIA officer.

“Is everything alright?” Captain Brown asked.

“You haven’t been able to identify the Bulgarian intel officer working with Nina Petkova?” Sirena asked him.

“Not yet,” he said. “We’re working on it.”

Maria gave Sirena a reassuring nod.

“His name is Goran Pavlov,” Sirena said. “From Vidin.”

The captain raised his hands with uncertainty. “Not sure where that is.”

Maria chimed in. “Northwest Bulgaria on the Danube.”

“How do you know this?” he asked.

“Our people are good,” Sirena assured him.

“I’m impressed,” he said.

“Good,” Sirena said. “Then you can tell us how dirty Nina Petkova is.”

“That we don’t know for sure,” he said. “We don’t know if this intel officer has something on her, or if she’s on their payroll. Either way, we need to discover the truth.”

“Stay out of our way and we’ll find out,” Sirena said. This came across as an order.

“I can’t do that,” he said. “I’ve got my orders.”

Sirena shook her head slightly and let out a breath of air from her nostrils. “If my guy calls your guy, your guy will call you and change your orders. This could take time. And I don’t think we have time.”

After a long pause, Captain Brown finally said, “We have her under surveillance.”

“Well, I’d hope so,” Sirena said. “Who else is involved?”

Captain Brown hedged a second and then said, “Nobody.”

“You don’t trust the Agency,” Sirena concluded.

“Like I said, I also have trust issues.”

Sirena was starting to like this guy. “Okay. Since you’re staying in room three-forty-two at the Berlaymont Palace, we know where to find you.”

Captain Brown looked shocked. “How?”

Waiving her hand, Sirena said, “We’re in the same hotel. If that makes you feel better.”

“Not really,” he said. “You could just text or call me. I’ll give you my number.”

She got up and finished her beer. “Not necessary. We have it.”

Maria finished her beer and set her cup on the table. Then she picked up both trays of fries and started toward the exit.

“Wait,” the captain said.

Sirena stopped and glanced back, waiting.

“We can work together, right?” he asked.

“If I need your help, I’ll ask,” Sirena said. Then she turned and walked off, catching up to Maria on the path back toward their hotel.

Maria handed the remaining basket of fries to Sirena and said, “Maybe you could have left him a little dignity.”

Before answering, Sirena tapped off her comm unit. Then she said, “You want to bone him?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Maria said.

24

French Guiana

Jake had been in this jungle country for a few hours, and he was already thinking about how to get the hell out as soon as possible. This was hell on Earth, he thought.

Their driver had brought them first to the site of the spacecraft crash in the jungle a short distance from the launch facility near the Atlantic coast. The place was crawling with police and military personnel, none of whom seemed to know what to do with the crash site. After all, nobody had died in the incident. It wasn’t like Jake could discover anything there, either.

From the crash site, the driver drove Jake and Emma to the launch facility. This place was even more subdued than the debris field in the jungle. Technicians and programmers were working their fingers to the bone trying to understand what had happened.

Jake left Emma with his driver in a small cafeteria while he went in to talk with the lead engineer.

This engineer was German, so Jake decided to use his language to bond briefly.

“I am here to help with the investigation,” Jake told the German, trying his best to look helpful and not combative.

The German nodded understanding. “Mister Gomez said you would be coming by. I will say that we have no clue at this time what happened,” he said in German. “We thought we had a closed system from outside influence.”

“That would be ideal,” Jake said. “But I’m guessing you still had to communicate with our people around the world.”

The German nodded. “Yes, sir. Through secure satellite communications.”

“Which locations?” Jake asked.

Shrugging, the man said, “Everywhere from Portugal to a ship in the Atlantic Ocean, which was there to capture our rocket boosters.”

Jake wasn’t overly aware of their operations. Maybe that was a problem. Perhaps Gomez knew this about him, and that was why he had brought Jake in. For a fresh perspective.

“Did you have any direct communications with outside people prior to the launch?” Jake asked.

“Marginally,” the German said. “Just normal communications.”

Jake shook the man’s hand again and said, “Coordinate your findings with our people in Portugal.”

“Yes, sir. I will.”

Just as Jake left the secure command center, he got a text from Carlos Gomez. Surprisingly, he was a short distance away on his yacht. He needed to see Jake ASAP.

Jake found Emma in the cafeteria sipping on a Coke.

“Let’s go,” Jake said, directing his words mostly at the driver.

“Where next, boss?” the driver asked.

“Gomez wants to see me,” Jake said.

“I finally get to meet the mysterious billionaire?” Emma said.

Jake wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, but he had no reason to complain.

They got back into the sweltering humid air, into the SUV, and Jake cranked up the air conditioning.

“How do people live like this?” Emma asked from the back seat.

The driver said nothing. Based on his shifting eyes and the sweat stains on his clothes, he probably agreed with Emma.

She continued, “Why do they have to launch rockets here?”

As the driver pulled out of the parking lot, Jake flipped his visor down and caught a glimpse of Emma in the mirror. Jake said, “From what I understand, it’s best to launch closer to the Equator.”

“How close are we?” she asked.

“About five degrees north,” Jake said.

“What is that in miles?”

Jake calculated that in his mind and said, “About three-hundred and forty-five miles.”

“How do you know this?” she asked.

“Because each degree of latitude equals approximately sixty-nine miles,” Jake said.

“I see,” Emma said. “Who came up with that bright idea? Why not seventy miles?”

Jake had too much on his mind to answer. So he said, “That discussion is for another time.”

“Daddy,” Emma said.

Jake shot her a quick glance.

“He knows I’m your daughter,” Emma said. “I let it slip. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t kill me,” the driver said with sincerity.

“Why would you say that?” Jake asked.

The driver hunched his shoulders. “I’ve heard stories.”

“Just shut your mouth and drive,” Jake ordered.

“It’s not his fault, Daddy.”

Jake racked his brain now, trying to figure out where he could stash Emma for a week or so. At least until the danger to the Gomez Organization passed. He wasn’t sure if his ranch in Utah would be safe at this point.

Everyone was quiet for the remainder of the short drive to Port de Pariacabo, where the 175-foot yacht owned by Carlos Gomez was tied to a lone pier that stretched out into the muddy-cream colored Kourou River.

The driver parked and stayed in the vehicle. Jake and Emma got out and Jake went to the driver’s side window. The driver powered the window down.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the driver said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake said. “How much gas do you have.”

“Three quarters. Why?”

“Keep it running and the air cranking,” Jake ordered. “We won’t be long.”

Jake caught up with Emma, who had walked a little closer to the pier.

“Listen,” Jake said, “I need to get you somewhere safe for a while.”

“I can handle myself,” she suggested.

“I know. But someone is seriously messing with the Gomez Organization. And I need to fly to Europe to meet up with Sirena.”

“I can go with you,” she said with less resolve. “You know I’ve never been anywhere. You’ve kept me locked away like an indentured child.”

“Until recently you were a child,” he said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, much like her mother used to do back in the day when she was upset.

“Technically, I’m right,” Jake said. “But I understand, based on appearance alone, that you’re a full woman now.” Which was even more disturbing for Jake.

“Then quit calling me your assistant,” Emma said. “That sounds a bit pervy.”

She had a point.

“Just call me Emma,” she said. “Is that alright?”

“Fine.” Jake walked off toward the yacht.

Security, whom Jake had personally hired, with the exception of a couple of new hires, deferred to Jake and Emma as they went aboard.

This was the third yacht Gomez had owned since Jake first met the billionaire. It was similar in length to the others, but this one was much more plush than the others. And Jake also knew the electronics aboard were as good as most military destroyers.

Jake found Gomez sitting in the stern lounge, with only a lone bartender at the ready behind the bar.

Emma’s eyes were wide as she took in the entire scene.

Gomez got up and gave Jake a big hug. Then he turned to Emma and said, “I take it this is your daughter.”

She scrunched her nose at her father. Then she reached out her hand to shake with the billionaire. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Emma said.

“You call me Carlos,” he said. “Please, sit.”

They took seats in leather chairs around a small table.

Gomez waved at the bartender, who went to work immediately. “What would you like, dear?”

Emma glanced at her father and said, “Do you have German beer?”

“Just like your mother,” Gomez said. He nodded to the bartender.

“You knew my mother?” Emma asked.

“I did,” Gomez said. “She worked for me for a while. Until. . .”

“She was killed,” Emma said.

“I told her recently what happened,” Jake explained.

“It was a tragedy,” Gomez said.

The bartender brought them drinks all around, including a heavy pour of Jake’s favorite 25-year-old Nicaraguan Rum.

After they each took drinks and set their glasses on the table, Gomez said, “As you are probably aware, Jake, I don’t expect you to discover what happened to my spaceship.”

“I figured that much,” Jake said.

“But I needed to speak with you in person. It’s becoming clear to me that there are those within the European Union who want me to fail.”

“They’ve never liked you,” Jake admitted.

“But things are more dire at this moment,” Gomez said.

“I don’t know much about your operation here,” Jake said. “Especially with the space launches.”

“It is all part of the Organization ecosystem, Jake. Cellular communications have reached a limit. Pull out your phone.”

Jake leaned back to access his front pocket, pulling out his SAT phone.

“As you know,” Gomez said, “that SAT phone is a prototype of what’s to come. You have been a beta tester for years. So has Sirena and others within our organization. Now we want to bring this technology to the masses worldwide. But there are a lot of people and companies that want to maintain the status quo.”

Jake knew this. He said, “There’s a lot of money in cell service.”

“And cell towers,” Gomez said. “Not to mention making obsolete all cable companies, that have already been suffering with cord cutters. When you cut out all of the middlemen, many start losing money.”

“With the exception of the Gomez Organization,” Jake corrected.

Gomez took a sip of his single malt Scotch and then said, “I have more money than I will need in my lifetime. I am doing this for the human race.”

Jake thought the man really meant this. And this was the only reason he still allowed himself to remain on the man’s payroll. Or why he would have recommended his son work for the man.

Gomez turned to Emma and said, “Would you like a tour of this yacht?”

She took a long sip of her German beer and smiled. Then she said, “You want me to go away so you and my dad can speak.”

Gomez laughed. “You have your mother’s beauty and brains.”

“Hey, she got something from me,” Jake complained.

Emma got up and left a little beer in the bottle. Before she left, she said, “I got your smartass attitude.”

“That was learned,” Jake pointed out.

Emma waved at Jake dismissively as she left the lounge with the bartender.

Once they were alone, Gomez said, “She is gorgeous, Jake.”

“She is that,” Jake admitted.

“Tall like her mother.”

“Yes. Stubborn like her mother also.”

Gomez laughed. “Have you taught her much yet?”

“Why do you say that?”

“She has a certain confidence about her,” Gomez said. “Like she’s not afraid of anything.”

“She knows what she needs to know to survive in this world,” Jake said, “but she thinks she knows more than she does.”

“The hubris of youth,” Gomez said.

“Something like that.” Jake sipped his rum and swirled the remaining contents along the edge of the ornate cut crystal glass.

“What’s wrong?” Gomez asked.

Jake thought for a moment. Then he said, “Well, let’s see. Two men attacked my daughter in Ushuaia. Then someone poisoned the pilots who flew us to Antarctica, trying to kill us in the process. It was only luck that we survived. At the same time, Sirena and Maria were attacked at least twice in Spain and Portugal. Not to mention the attacks on our security system due to the attack on your plant manager in Lisbon. And now someone has intentionally blown up your spacecraft. Yet, you don’t seem to be too concerned.”

“You are wrong, Jake. I am concerned. But I know you will get to the bottom of this. I am counting on you and Sirena.”

“You brought me to the sweltering jungle to tell me this?” Jake asked.

“Not exactly,” Gomez said. “I explained to the local officials that I had an expert coming in to investigate the explosion.”

“I’m the window dressing,” Jake said.

“I don’t know that idiom.”

“If you do nothing, our people think you aren’t doing enough,” Jake said. “You bring an expert in and our people, along with the locals, think you are seriously trying to find a solution.”

“Correct,” Gomez said. “Then, a couple of days from now, we put out a release saying there was a simple malfunction. A technical problem. We have learned from our failure.”

“I see. And nobody loses confidence in your pet project.”

“We cannot have that,” Gomez agreed. “Besides, you were leaving Argentina anyway, so you were on the way. Plus, I get to see you and meet your daughter.”

“You knew my daughter was with me?” Jake asked.

“The flight crew from Utah sent me a security photo of Emma,” Gomez said. “She looks too much like Alexandra to not be her daughter.”

The man had a good point.

“What do you want me to do now?” Jake asked.

Gomez leaned closer to Jake and explained what they needed to do. Luckily for Jake, he had planned for this very contingency. Jake’s only problem was what to do with his daughter.

25

Brussels, Belgium

It was past midnight now, with a sliver of light seeping into Sirena’s hotel room. She had gotten up, dressed in all black with soft-soled shoes, strapped her Glock under her left arm in a leather holster, and covered that 9mm weapon with her black leather jacket.

Now, she peered out to the EU headquarters building a short distance from her hotel. The Berlaymont Building was lit up like a Christmas tree. But the streets below were eerily quiet. Not a single straggling drunk anywhere to be seen.

Sirena considered waiting for Jake to get to Brussels, like he had informed her to do. Fortunately for her, she didn’t always follow instructions.

Instead, she crept over to the other bed in the room where Maria slept soundly. Part of Sirena didn’t want to include her friend, either. But Maria was a capable woman. And she would be pissed if Sirena didn’t include her.

She nudged her friend lightly, and Maria shot upright, grabbing for her gun. But Sirena had already slid Maria’s gun from under her pillow.

“What’s up?” Maria said, and then yawned.

“Get dressed, girl,” Sirena said. “Time to have a little talk.”

“Nefarious shit?” Maria said excitedly.

“Something like that. Dark clothes.”

Maria jumped out of bed and said, “All I have is dark clothes.”

Good point, Sirena thought. Come to think of it, the same could be said about Sirena’s current wardrobe.

Within a few minutes, guns checked and fully dressed, the two women left their room quietly.

Neither said a word until they left the hotel. Finally, a couple of blocks from the hotel, Maria whispered, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Sirena said. Then she took Maria’s arm in hers and added, “Pretend we’re a couple.”

“You could do worse,” Maria said.

“Trust me, I know. What’s not to like about a hot Latin woman?”

Maria put her head against Sirena’s shoulder. “Aw. I didn’t think you cared.”

“Too much.”

“Right,” Maria said, pulling her head back.

They walked quietly away from the EU building into a neighborhood of apartment complexes, where Sirena knew many EU workers lived. As she approached a nice six-story building, she made a connection with her comm unit. Maria did the same.

“Approaching target,” Sirena said into the comm. “Read?”

“Got you,” Sancho said.

“Access resolved?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Roger that,” Sirena said.

The two of them turned up a wide sidewalk toward the front doors of the apartment building.

“Open now,” Sirena said, pretending to touch the electronic pad with a fob.

The door buzzed and allowed her to go right in. Still pretending to be lovers out on the town for the evening, they walked into the lobby arm in arm.

They walked to a bank of elevators and Sancho said into both of their ears, “Elevator one awaits.”

The elevator door opened for them and they went inside.

“This place is packed with cameras,” Maria said.

“All disabled,” Sancho responded.

Sirena said, “You’re sure the target is home?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sancho said. “Phone is in the apartment.”

They got off on the top floor and Sirena saw the sign leading to their target apartment. The apartment was on a corner of the building with a view of the nearby EU headquarters complex. Both of them put on thin black leather gloves as they walked down the corridor. Then they both converted their knit caps into a three-holed balaclava over their faces, leaving only their mouths and eyes visible.

Sirena whispered to Sancho, “Is target alone?”

“Unknown,” he said. “But the phone is attached to target’s mobile watch, and alarm is set for six in the morning.”

Okay, now Sancho was showing off, Sirena thought. She drew her suppressed handgun and placed it at the side of her leg. Maria did the same with her gun.

“At the target door,” Sirena whispered.

“I know that,” Sancho said.

They heard a click and the door unlocked for them. Sirena went in first, with Maria right on her heels.

The first room was a living room with lights from the EU complex lighting the area. Across the room was a combined dining area and kitchen.

“Single bedroom is to your left,” Sancho said.

This wasn’t really necessary, since she could see a small bathroom with a nightlight shining to the right. The bedroom door was closed.

Sirena gently opened the door and peered into the bedroom. A small light in the attached bathroom sent a sliver of light across the large bed, showing their target sound asleep. Heavy breathing confirmed this.

Stepping lightly to one side of the bed, Sirena swished her hand for Maria to come alongside the other side.

Pointing her gun at the target, Sirena gave Maria the signal to turn on the light. Just before the light came on, Sirena slapped her left hand onto the face of their target.

The light and the slap of Sirena’s hand startled the woman awake in a panic. She shoved the sheets off her body, exposing her completely naked body. Then she flailed her arms and kicked her feet, but Sirena shoved her gun right between the woman’s round breasts and pushed the suppressed barrel in with considerable force. This froze the woman in complete terror, her eyes wide and unknowing.

Having researched the woman’s background, Sirena knew the languages she spoke. So, she decided against French and went directly to English.

“Now,” Sirena said. “You have two choices. You can live or you can die. To live, you must keep your mouth shut. One scream and you get the second choice. Nod your head if you understand.”

The woman nodded her head quickly.

“Good,” Sirena said. “Now, I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. Not a sound from you until I ask the questions. Nod if you understand.”

The woman nodded again.

Maria was going through a small makeup desk checking out the products this woman used. She sprayed some perfume and tried some lotion on her exposed wrist.

Sirena took her hand away from the woman’s mouth slowly.

“May I put on some clothes?” the woman asked, her Slavic accent coming through.

Glancing at Maria, she took the hint and went to the woman’s closet, returning with underwear and a T-shirt, which she threw at the woman.

“Landing strip,” Maria said. “I would have guessed either full forest or eight-year-old girl.”

Sancho said over the comm, “Wait. She’s naked? Why do you two get all the fun?”

Sirena said nothing to her friend or Sancho. Instead, she waited for the woman to slip into her underpants and pull a soccer jersey over her head, giving her a certain level of dignity.

“What do you want with me?” the woman asked. “I don’t keep much money here.”

“We’re not here to rob you,” Sirena assured the woman.

“Who are you? And what do you want?”

These things always went this way, Sirena thought. The key was to give them nothing and take everything.

“You are guilty of espionage against the European Union,” Sirena said.

“What?” she said, sitting up on her knees. “You are crazy.”

Without thinking, Sirena punched the woman in the stomach, buckling her over on her side as she tried to catch her breath.

Maria shrugged and then picked up the woman’s phone. After a quick review, Maria shook her head.

Sirena pointed to the woman’s laptop sitting on top of the dresser. As Maria accessed the laptop, which Sirena could see was not password protected, Sirena put her hand on the woman’s back.

“You will be fine in a moment,” Sirena said. “You must not raise your voice. Let me know you understand.”

The woman’s head nodded gently from the bed.

“Got access,” Sancho said, referring to the woman’s laptop. “Downloading now.”

Grasping the woman’s long hair, Sirena said, “Enough. Get up.”

When the woman sat up again, she had tears streaming from both eyes. She sobbed now and Sirena simply shook her head in disgust.

Finally, the woman said, “You have the wrong person.”

Sirena said, “Nina Petkova, Commissioner of Innovation and Science, Bulgarian national.” Then for impact, she said the woman’s address in Sofia, along with that of her elderly mother, who was currently living there with her little French Papillon dog. “Cute dog.”

“Who are you?” Petkova repeated. “You are not Bulgarian.”

“That’s not important,” Sirena assured her. “You will answer my questions truthfully.”

Petkova wiped away her tears and agreed with another nod.

Sirena had rehearsed this in her head over the past couple of hours, but now she needed to be careful.

“We know you are working with the Bulgarian National Intelligence Service,” Sirena said. “We know all about your contact with one of their officers.”

Now the Bulgarian diplomat looked more concerned than she had with the gun trained on her.

“Now,” Sirena said, “we know you might think you have diplomatic immunity. But that won’t protect you from a bullet to the head. What is your contact’s name?”

Petkova swished her head side to side. Finally, she spit out the man’s name.

“Just Goran?” Sirena asked. “That’s a very popular name in Bulgaria.”

The Bulgarian raised a finger and said, “The man has a distinct Rup or Rhodopes Mountain dialect.”

Sirena waited for a moment, remembering that Sancho had said this Goran was from the northern part of Bulgaria on the Danube River.

Finally, Sancho said, “This could be possible. Although the man was born and raised in Vidin, both of his parents came north from a mountain town called Velingrad. Looks pretty cool. My bad!”

Peering into Petkova’s eyes intensely, Sirena said, “You know nothing about this man? Not even his surname? And you decide to spy for him, betraying your country and the European Union?”

“It’s not like that,” Petkova said desperately. “He said it was for our country. My patriotic duty.”

“Said every traitor in history,” Sirena said with considerable derision.

“What do you want from me?” Petkova said, wrapping her arms across her chest in a self-comforting gesture. “Besides, it had nothing to do with any EU country.”

Now they were getting to the point, Sirena thought.

“Really?” Sirena asked. “If not a country, then what?”

The Bulgarian shifted her eyes, as if she knew she was giving up too much information.

Sirena was getting annoyed now. She trained her gun on the pillow and shot it once, the cough of the gun report barely audible. But this was enough to get the Bulgarian woman’s attention. She nearly jumped from the bed. But now Sirena aimed her gun at the woman’s face.

“The next one goes between your eyes,” Sirena said.

Finally, her mouth quivering, Petkova said, “He said this company was evil.”

“Which company?” Sirena asked. She needed this woman to admit her wrongdoing.

“The Gomez Organization,” Petkova said. “They are evil.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Sirena lied.

“They are an insidious group,” Petkova declared. “I only allowed this man access through our system.”

Suddenly, this all started to click in Sirena’s mind. Was this Goran a rogue? Why would the Bulgarian Intelligence Service want to harm Gomez? Was this woman a useful idiot? A dupe?

“Alright,” Sirena said. “You gave this man, Goran, access to your system. Did he do this in person or remotely?”

She shook her head side to side. “There is no way to do it remotely. Security does not allow that.”

Why go through this whole process? Sirena was confused. More to Sancho than the woman, she asked, “Why could this Goran not simply use his own computer from some other facility. Or even from a cybercafe?”

Petkova shrugged. “I asked him that question. But he simply said it was better this way.”

Sancho broke in over the comm. “This could have been done from nearly anywhere. They wanted to put the blame on Bulgaria for some reason.”

“How do you contact this Goran?” Sirena asked.

“I don’t. He contacts me.”

“How?”

“One of those short video apps on my phone,” Petkova said. “He makes a simple video of anything. I get a notice saying there is a new video. This prompts me to meet him at a predetermined time and place.”

“Can you post a video?” Maria asked, picking up the woman’s phone. “Will he get the message to meet you?”

Petkova let out a heavy sigh. “He said this is possible in an emergency.”

“What is the video to prompt this?” Sirena asked.

The woman looked embarrassed. She said, “I must take a short video of my bare left breast.”

Okay, Sirena thought. Very specific. “Once you do that, where and when do you meet?”

After a bit of reticence, Petkova finally said, “In Parc de Cinquantenaire under the Arch. Twenty hundred.”

Maria turned the phone toward the woman and said, “Is this the app?”

“Yes,” Petkova said.

Without asking, Maria lifted the woman’s shirt and took a quick video of her left breast. When she was done, she lowered the woman’s shirt and ran the video back to make sure it was good. Maria nodded her approval.

“If you send that he will expect me to be there tomorrow night,” Petkova said.

“Good,” Sirena said. “Make sure you go there at that time.”

“He is a scary man,” Petkova said.

“Has he ever pointed a gun at your face and threatened to put a bullet between your eyes?” Sirena asked her.

Petkova said, “Good point. I will be there.”

“I know you will,” Sirena said. “We know where you live and we would hate to have a visit with your mother in Sofia. And her little dog, too.”

“Not little Zoya?” she said.

Great, this woman seemed more concerned about her dog than her mother.

Just for the hell of it, Sirena shot the woman’s pillow again, which rattled the Bulgarian diplomat more this time than the last. Then she and Maria left the apartment, flipping up their balaclavas to their heads and returning their guns to holsters inside their jackets as they headed toward the elevator.

“Looks like we have a date,” Sirena said to Maria. Then she turned off her comm link to Sancho as they left the apartment building.

Back on the sidewalk, the two of them walked with determination toward their hotel. This time they weren’t pretending to be a couple.

“I thought she might pee herself,” Maria said. “You are very intimidating.”

“Thanks?”

A chill came over Sirena as the wind picked up across her face.

“Did you catch the men in the car out front?” Maria asked.

“Yep,” Sirena said. “As well as the man across the street a block down.”

“Any clue who they are?”

“I’m guessing either our DIA friends, or the Bulgarians,” Sirena said.

“Or both.”

Good point, Sirena thought. “Ready for a run to lose these assholes?”

“We wore the right shoes,” Maria said.

First, they took off in a playful manner, like they were two deer frolicking in a field. Then they took off like the deer were being chased by wolves.

26

Over the Atlantic Ocean

Jake leaned back in his plush leather chair and read the text from Sirena. She and Maria had just spoken with the Bulgarian diplomat. Details to come. But they did have a meeting set up with the Bulgarian NIS officer that evening. He checked his watch and calculated the time to Europe. He could make that meeting.

“Daddy,” Emma asked from across the aisle.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are we there yet?” She gave Jake a wry smile.

“Funny.”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’m going to meet up with Sirena,” Jake said. “You’re going to hang out with some friends in Portugal.”

She pressed her hands down on the arms of her chair and said, “I could get used to traveling like this. Is this the way you always travel?”

“No. Don’t get used to it. I travel the best I can. Since working for Mister Gomez, he has been gracious enough to provide a jet.”

“This seems really fast,” she concluded.

“Much faster than the older versions we used to fly,” Jake agreed. “This is one of the Gomez Organization’s newest aircraft. It’s a Gulfstream G700. It can do seven hundred miles per hour and cruise over eighty-five hundred miles.”

“How far is it to Portugal?” she asked.

“Less than four thousand miles.”

She checked her watch. “Then we should be there soon.”

“Within the hour,” he said.

Emma let out a puff of air. “Why are you ditching me?”

“You have to ask me that?” he said. “We’ve been attacked twice on this trip already. Plus, Sirena and her friend were attacked twice. This could get dangerous.”

“I still don’t get it, Daddy. You don’t work for the government anymore. Who wants to harm you or Sirena?”

Jake didn’t want to mention the fact that the entire organization could be in danger, including her brother Karl.

“I don’t think it’s anything personal,” Jake said. “It’s more about the Gomez Organization. Someone is trying to harm them. We just happen to be in the way.”

She leaned back in her chair like she might take a nap. No such luck, though. She twisted toward Jake and said, “Who are these people who will be babysitting me?”

“The two main people who will not let you out of their sight will be a man named Sancho Eneko and a young lady named Josie Ertz.”

“A security detail?” she asked.

“Not exactly. Sancho is a computer dude.”

“Portuguese?”

“No, he’s an American. At one time he was on the FBI’s most wanted list. I saved him from that and cleared his name.”

“Cool. And the girl?”

“I’ve known Josie since she was a young girl,” Jake said. “She’s German and has a PhD in Computational Biology and Scientific Computing. Her master’s degree is in Computer Engineering.”

“Wow. A brainiac.”

“You have no idea. We only hire the best.”

“How will they protect me?” Emma asked, confused.

Jake laughed. “I have security personal guarding our complex. They’re all former special forces from around the world.”

She gave Jake an encouraged look. “Hot young men?”

“Not exactly,” Jake said. “Most are forty or older. Retired military.”

“I can work with that,” she said.

Jake pointed at her sternly. “No, you can’t. They will all be under strict orders to protect, not serve.”

“God, I was kidding, Daddy.”

“This is no joking matter,” he said. “You still have the gun, right?”

She patted the side of her leather purse. “Yes, sir.”

He wasn’t sure if he was equipped to handle an eighteen-year-old daughter. Give him armed insurgents or terrorists any day of the week. He knew what to do with them.

Jake tried to rest his eyes for the remainder of the flight. They landed at a private airfield outside of Porto, Portugal. Jake gave instructions to the flight crew that he’d be back within an hour to head to Brussels.

Finding Emma’s bag under the fuselage, Jake slung this over his shoulder and then led his daughter toward a black SUV at the edge of the tarmac.

A younger man jumped out of the driver’s seat and nearly came to attention.

“I thought you said they were old?” Emma whispered.

The man was unfamiliar to Jake, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Who the hell are you?” Jake asked as he approached the young man.

“Sir, my name is Brito. I was hired by your son, Karl six months ago.”

“How old are you?” Jake asked.

“Thirty-two.”

“You look twenty-two,” Jake said.

The Portuguese man shrugged.

“What’s your background?”

“Portuguese Army Commando Regiment for ten years,” the man said. He reached down and pulled up his left pant leg, exposing the bottom of a prosthetic leg. “Until I got blown up in Afghanistan. Then I was discharged. But I can still fight.”

Jake guessed that was the case. Portuguese Commandos had a great reputation. They were much like the American Army Green Berets.

“Outstanding,” Jake concluded. Then he moved closer to the man and whispered in his ear. “This is my eighteen-year-old daughter. If anything happens to her, I’ll pull off that fake leg of yours and beat you senseless with it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the man said. “I have a wife and two children. I really need this job.”

Jake patted the man on the shoulder. “Now we understand each other.”

They drove in the SUV to the Gomez Organization security headquarters overlooking the Douro River. Being winter, the surrounding grape vines were naked and in need of pruning. The driver pulled up in the parking lot with two old cars sitting there like they’d been there for a decade.

“This is beautiful,” Emma said from the back seat. “Why did you wait so long to bring me here?”

Jake ignored her and got out of the front passenger seat. He opened the door for his daughter and escorted her toward the precipice overlooking the river below. Jake carried her large Go Bag for her.

“This is the best area in the world for Porto wine,” Jake said. “I gave you some at Christmas a few weeks back.”

“That thick red syrup?” she asked with a disgusted expression.

He put his hand on her shoulder and said, “It’s an acquired taste. Let’s go.”

“Where?” she asked, her eyes shifting around the empty grape vines.

Jake said nothing until they rounded a corner and a half-moon entrance appeared on the side of the mountain. The entrance looked like a half barrel from a massive wine barrel. At one time it had been a winery tasting room. Standing out front was one man with a strap across his chest. Recognizing Jake, and expecting his appearance, the man tipped his beret to Jake and opened a secure blast door. As he turned, he exposed his MP5 submachine gun. Jake, Emma and the Portuguese Commando went inside.

After going through the first door, the three of them were locked into a small entryway with multiple cameras. Jake smiled for the camera and heard a buzz, which allowed him to enter the main room.

They were met by Sancho and Josie, while others worked at computer stations around the dark room.

Jake introduced Emma to the crew.

Sancho shook Emma’s hand, while Josie gave her a big hug.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Josie said to Emma.

“You too,” Emma said. “You don’t have much of a German accent.”

Josie punched Sancho in the chest and said, “That’s from working with this guy. He corrects my English all the time. Very annoying.”

Sancho complained in Basque, which nobody in the room understood.

“Alright,” Jake said. “We need to talk. I don’t have much time.” He looked at Emma and added, “Wait here with Josie and Brito.”

Emma nodded.

Jake dropped Emma’s bag on the stained concrete floor and went to a soundproof secure room with Sancho. The small room was a Faraday cage without access to any outside communications. Even Jake’s SAT phone wouldn’t work here. Jake had ensured that even electromagnetic waves could not penetrate this room.

Sancho wasn’t sure of himself, which was out of the ordinary for this normally eccentric man.

“What’s wrong, Sancho?”

After pacing back and forth in the small open space, Sancho stopped and said, “You’ve talked with Sirena?”

“Briefly,” Jake admitted. “Why?”

“This whole affair goes deeper than we first suspected,” Sancho said.

“Explain.”

“May I sit?” Sancho asked.

“Of course.” To accentuate this point, Jake sat first and waited for Sancho to take a seat across from him.

“Okay,” Sancho said. “We dug deeper into this Bulgarian Intel Officer, Goran Pavlov. On the surface everything seems normal with this man. But doing some backchannel work, we found out he retired from NIS about a year ago.”

“So?”

“So, as far as we know, he presented himself to Nina Petkova, the Bulgarian EU diplomat, as a current intel officer.”

“Wow,” Jake said. “A former intel officer who happens to be a liar. How rare.”

“I know, right?”

“Move on, smartass.”

Barely holding back a smile, Sancho said, “It gets worse, Jake. I checked into this Goran dude’s finances.”

“Right,” Jake said. “Good idea.”

“Anyway, his personal finances were easy to crack,” Sancho said. “The guy has the normal bank accounts in Sofia. But most of the major banks in Bulgaria are owned by foreign entities. Only a few are wholly owned by Bulgarians.”

“And?”

“And the place where Goran has most of his normal money is in the largest bank in Bulgaria,” Sancho said. When Jake said nothing, Sancho continued, “Makes sense, I guess, since they have the most branches in the country. Guess who owns this bank?”

“Sancho, I’m in no mood to guess. Can you get to the point?”

“Right. This is a Belgian bank.”

“So.” Jake had money in a dozen banks around the world. Most of them in tax-sheltered countries like Lichtenstein, Luxemburg and Andorra.

“Anyway, this Goran tried to hide his transactions elsewhere, but this wasn’t too difficult to discover. Well, our own FBI would never find it. Neither would INTERPOL, I’d guess.”

“But you found it,” Jake assumed.

“I did,” Sancho said with a smile. “Well, Josie helped.”

“Obviously,” Jake said.

“Harsh. So, it wasn’t so much that Goran had money in these other hidden accounts. The prescient point was where this money came from. That was much harder to discover.”

“Prescient?”

“I do crosswords,” Sancho admitted.

“Continue,” Jake said. “Before I die of old age.”

Sancho was about to say something, but Jake pointed a finger at him.

Getting to the point now, Sancho said, “His money came not from a country, but from a company.”

A rush swept through Jake’s mind now. This was all starting to make sense.

“Let me guess,” Jake said. “A Gomez competitor.”

“That’s right,” Sancho said. “His number one competitor in Europe. A French company called Talbot Communications.”

Jake sat back in his chair in deep thought. “They’re not just French or European,” Jake concluded. “They’re all over the globe.”

“Yes,” Sancho said. “I ran into them in Canada once in my hidden years.”

“So, Talbot is now hiring ex-spooks to do their dirty work,” Jake said.

“Just like Gomez,” Sancho said.

“We don’t work behind the scenes to sabotage the competition,” Jake said.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Jake raised his hands and said, “Good work. It’s nice to identify the bad guys.”

“There’s more,” Sancho said. “The two men you killed in Argentina were also on the Talbot payroll. So was the man Sirena killed on the train from Lisbon to Madrid.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “How many more are out there?”

Sancho shrugged and said, “No way of knowing.”

The better question seemed to be obvious to Jake. “What’s their ultimate goal?”

“World domination,” Sancho said. “Like any good company.”

Jake got up and said, “Alright. Dig deeper. You have the Talbot bank account paying off former intel officers. See if you can find any more connections. In the meantime, I need to get to Brussels. My plane awaits.”

Sancho got up and reached out his hand to Jake, who tried not to crush the man’s hand this time.

“I will find all connections,” Sancho said.

“I’m sure you will. I’m also trusting you with my daughter. Make sure nothing happens to her.”

“You have my word,” Sancho said. “I’ve already called in a few more security personnel.”

“If you have to keep her in this building for her safety, you do so,” Jake said.

“I wish we could call in Karl and Kadri.”

“They haven’t called in?” Jake asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good. Neither of them has had a decent vacation in years. Let them be.”

“Roger that.”

Jake left the secure room and found Josie and Emma sitting at an array of computer terminals, with Josie explaining what they were doing.

Squeezing down on Emma’s shoulders, Jake said, “Okay, girl. I have to get going.”

He expected Emma to simply waive and not let the door hit him on the ass as he left. Instead, Emma got up and gave Jake a long hug. Then she kissed his forehead and whispered for him to be careful.

“Say hello to Sirena,” Emma said.

“I will.” Jake started to leave.

“Wait. Where am I staying?”

“With me,” Josie said. “My house is within walking distance of here.”

“Oh,” Emma said. “That’s why there are only two cars out front.”

“Those are props,” Jake said. “They haven’t run for years.”

Jake had only been to Josie’s place once. Gomez had built her house and another one for Sancho next door on a piece of the vineyard property. The other employees were bussed in from nearby Porto.

Shifting his head toward the young commando, Jake left and was followed closely by Brito.

Once in the car and heading back to the jet waiting at the private airport, Jake said casually to the commando, “Once you drop me off, you get back there immediately and don’t let my daughter out of your sight.”

“I understand,” Brito said. “I will stay at Josie’s house with them.”

Jake was still filled with trepidation, but he simply agreed with a nod. There was a time to let go, but Jake wasn’t sure if that time had arrived yet.

27

Brussels, Belgium

A couple of blocks from the Atomium statue built for the 1958 Brussels World’s Fair, DIA officer Captain Lenny Brown got out of his rental VW Passat and started heading toward the massive aluminum Atom statue. Being so early in the morning, he noticed most of the usual tourists who would stand in front of the structure for photos were absent. Of course, the nearby Mini-Europe Park wouldn’t even open for a couple of hours.

Which is why Captain Brown had selected this place for his meeting with the NATO official from Bulgaria. Sure they could have set up a meeting at the NATO Headquarters a short distance away in Haren, but the Bulgarian was reluctant to do so.

Brown hesitated across the street from the fountain with the Atomium in the background. One man stood next to the fountain smoking a cigarette. Based on the image Brown had of his contact, it was him. He was a major in the Bulgarian Army, but the DIA suspected he was actually a member of NIS, the Bulgarian National Intelligence Service.

Approaching the man cautiously, Brown said into his comm softly, “Closing in on subject.”

“Got you, sir,” came the voice of his NCO in charge.

One of his people would photograph and video tape the meeting, while two more sat by in a small van monitoring.

Brown took out his cell phone and started taking a few photos, trying to look like he was photographing the Atomium, but keeping the Bulgarian on the edge of each image.

“Do you know what that is?” Brown asked the Bulgarian. This was their signal phrase.

“My English is not good,” the Bulgarian said, the proper response.

Captain Brown leaned up against a short stone wall, keeping his eyes on the man with his peripheral vision.

“What do the Americans want with me?” the Bulgarian asked.

“Just information,” Brown said.

“You are with the CIA?”

“Let’s not talk about things like that,” Brown said. “Otherwise I would have to question your affiliations.”

The Bulgarian took a long draw on his cigarette and then let out a stream of smoke into the cool morning air. He tried to hold back a smile, but he failed immensely.

“I think I might like you,” the Bulgarian finally said. “What would you like to know?”

Now came the tricky part. He couldn’t bring up certain names without divulging what he knew, along with the fact that the DIA was working a case. Maybe it was better for the man to think he was with the CIA.

“We’re concerned about a certain communications company that has become very powerful in Europe,” Captain Brown said, throwing out the line with a big fat worm on the hook.

“Which one?” the Bulgarian said, and then he dropped his cigarette butt into the pavement and twisted his foot on it.

More danger, Brown thought. Time to use some subterfuge. “We believe it could be an American company trying to push into the European market. The problem is their technology could have national security implications for some of our adversaries.”

“And NATO as well,” the Bulgarian said. He pulled out another cigarette, offered one to Brown, and when he refused with a wave of his hand, the man returned the pack to his inside jacket pocket and lit this new cigarette.

“I know what you’re wondering,” Brown said. “What does this have to do with Bulgaria?”

“I am sure you will tell me eventually,” the man said, and then took a long draw on his cigarette and let out a heavy stream of smoke.

Captain Brown heard static in his earpiece. Was someone trying to block their signal like the two women had done the night before? He wanted to scan the area for the women, but that could give away more to the Bulgarian than he wanted to at this time.

Finally, Brown said, “One of your people came up in our investigation.” That was vague enough, Brown thought.

The Bulgarian smiled and used his cigarette to delay his response further. “Okay. You want to know if we are conducting an operation with an American communications company. Is this your question?”

Brown shrugged. “It could be an American communications company. There could be more companies involved.”

Laughing slightly, the Bulgarian said, “That is very specific.”

“You know how this works,” Captain Brown said.

“Of course. You want something from me. But maybe I would like something from you also.”

“If I can,” Brown said.

The Bulgarian stared at Captain Brown through a cloud of cigarette smoke. Then he said, “If we are being honest, I would have to say that sometimes people retire from certain positions of authority and then decide to go out on their own.”

“This happens in America also,” Brown admitted. “Do these people have names?”

The Bulgarian pointed a finger at Captain Brown. The one with the smoking cigarette in it. He said, “One of our people reported being assaulted last night in their own apartment. Please tell me you were not involved.”

Captain Brown was honestly confused. “I know nothing about that. Who was he?”

“An EU diplomat,” the Bulgarian said.

“Is he alright?”

“She,” the Bulgarian said. “Hopefully she will be.”

Captain Brown’s mind reeled in the direction of the two women he had met with the night before. Could they have been involved?

“What can you tell me about these people you speak about?” Brown probed.

“I was speaking in general, of course.”

In Captain Brown’s ear his NCO said, “Sir, we were down for a while. Someone scrambled our signal.”

The captain made a command decision. “Can we stop skirting the issue? We both know who we’re talking about. We both seem like slobbering dogs.”

Smiling, the Bulgarian said, “That man was Russian.”

Not a denial, Brown realized. “And your man?”

The Bulgarian shrugged and said, “Retired a while ago.”

“But is working for someone here in Brussels,” Captain Brown said.

“Free enterprise,” he said. “Is that not the mantra of America?”

“Perhaps this man assaulted your diplomat last night.”

“Not unless he transformed into two women.”

Confirmation, Brown thought. What the hell were those two women up to?

“Are you telling me that this man has nothing to do with any operation run by your government?” Brown asked.

“That would be safe to say.”

In his ear, his NCO said, “Sir, we can’t trace the signal. It could be the Bulgarians or someone else.”

•

Sirena sat back in the chair in her hotel room and listened to the recording between the Bulgarian and the DIA Captain Lenny Brown.

When the recording ended, Sirena said, “Is that how it ended?”

Sancho said, “Yes, ma’am. Well, they said a couple of pleasantries and then said to keep in touch and they’ll go out for a beer next time.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” Sancho said. “But Captain Brown thought we might have been scrambling their signal.”

“But it was the Bulgarians?” she asked.

“Or someone else.”

“And you got this from spoofing the captain’s phone last night?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I can listen to anything said within ten feet or more of the man’s phone. If Captain Brown farts, I’ll know it.”

“What do you think?” she asked, glancing at Maria as she came out of the bathroom naked and toweling off her long dark hair.

“Well,” Sancho said. “Brown knows you two probably paid a visit to their diplomat last night.”

“I heard that,” Sirena said. “More importantly, we learned something interesting about Nina Petkova. She’s reporting contacts with rogue elements.”

“Hey,” Maria said. “We played nice. Kind of.”

Sancho said, “That helps with your meeting tonight.”

“And hurts,” Sirena said. “It means Bulgarian intel will be there tonight also, protecting their asset.”

“None of that came up in the meeting,” Sancho said. “Maybe Petkova didn’t tell the NIS about the meeting.”

That was possible, Sirena thought. But not likely.

“Where is Jake?” Sirena asked.

“About an hour out. You two better get going. I got you a black Mercedes SUV. Rented under your Canadian identity.”

Sirena would have to put that passport in her pocket. She thanked Sancho, hung up and turned to Maria.

“What?” Maria asked.

“I was just thinking that the young Captain Brown would be all over that.” Sirena waved her hand in the general direction of Maria’s naked body.

“Aw. That’s so nice of you to say.”

“But when Jake comes here, you’ll have to put on some clothes.”

“Unless. . .”

“Unless nothing,” Sirena said. “Let’s get going.”

28

Jake landed at the Brussels airport and took his bag from the belly of the Gulfstream G700. The crew mentioned they would be taking off for Barcelona soon to bring the aircraft in for routine maintenance. Jake would be on his own for a while.

He walked along the tarmac and found the black Mercedes SUV at the edge of a hangar. Maria was behind the wheel and Sirena stepped out of the front passenger seat to greet Jake.

They hugged and kissed briefly. Then Jake threw his bag into the back seat and got in behind the driver. Sirena took the front passenger seat again.

“No kiss for me?” Maria asked, smiling at Jake in the rearview mirror.

He tapped her on the shoulder and said, “You could have greeted me outside the vehicle.”

Maria smiled and said, “Where to, boss?”

“Bring me to the meeting place tonight,” he said. “I want to scope it out in the daylight.”

She put the vehicle in gear and pulled away.

After they left the airport area, Sirena turned back toward Jake and said, “It doesn’t look like this is a sanctioned operation by the Bulgarians.”

“I didn’t think it was,” Jake said, leaning back and trying to rest his eyes. “Anything new?”

“Sancho intercepted a meeting between a Bulgarian Army Major with the NIS and our DIA Captain Lenny Brown,” Sirena said.

He opened his right eye. “And?”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Jake said. “Continue.”

“The woman who was involved with the breech of our system,” Sirena said.

“Nina Petfucker?” Jake asked, closing his eyes again.

“Nina Petkova,” Sirena corrected. “Anyway, we believe she used her position at the EU to help the rogue Bulgarian with his operation against the Gomez Organization.”

Jake let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. “Why do they always have to make things so complex?”

“We haven’t gotten to that,” Sirena said. “So, as you know, the Bulgarian.”

“Goran Pavlov,” Jake provided.

“Right. He was being paid through a series of accounts owned by Talbot Communications. A direct competitor of the Gomez Organization.”

“Sancho briefed me on this already,” Jake said.

“Oh,” she said. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“No problem,” he said. “Now we all know that we all know. Continue.”

After a brief pause of reticence, Sirena said, “We could use some cooperation from your friend at the DIA.”

“Because you think that the Bulgarian National Intelligence Service is likely to show up at our meeting tonight,” Jake said.

“More than likely,” Sirena said. “I think the NIS is grooming this Nina Petkova as an asset.”

“We all do it, Sirena,” Jake said. “My guess is the Agency has assets all over the EU Headquarters from many different countries.”

Maria glanced back at Jake and said, “Are we not all supposed to be on the same side?”

“In theory, Maria,” he said. “But the agencies get corrupted by big money from major companies lobbying our politicians. These politicians have oversight of the agencies and make their wishes known. This drives the spooks to act in the interests of the big money instead of the people they’re supposed to work for. It’s insidious bullshit, and one of the reasons I got out of the game.”

“But here you are,” Maria said with a smirk in the rearview mirror.

Jake knew this all too well. He should be on his ranch in Utah right now enjoying the newest snowfall. Maybe taking a ride in the mountains on one of his horses.

Sirena turned and said, “Tell me about Emma.”

“Tucked her away in Porto with Sancho and friends,” Jake said.

“She should be safe there,” Sirena said. “But tell me about how she liked Argentina.”

“Seriously?” Jake asked. “She was attacked and almost killed. Twice. She was forced to take over a twin engine Otter over the Drake Passage, which she had never flown before. Other than that, things were beautiful.”

“Tell me how she flew,” she said with pride.

Jake shook his head. “We’ll talk about that later.”

“What have you always told me,” Sirena said, “ask for forgiveness, not permission?”

He hated it when his own words were thrown back at him.

When Jake was silent for a while as they drove on an outer ring of Brussels, Sirena said, “The point is, knowing that Talbot has hired these rogue officers is one thing, proving it might be more difficult.”

Jake turned and glanced at the naked cityscape pass by. “We don’t need to prove much of anything,” he said. “We just need to know who was hired and eliminate the threat to our organization.”

“That’s kind of what we’ve been doing,” Sirena reasoned. “But I think it’s time to shift from defense to offense.”

He had come to the same conclusion on the flight from Porto to Brussels.

Soon they came to the European Quarter of Brussels, with the EU Berlaymont Building out the right side windows.

Sirena pointed out their hotel near the EU Headquarters.

Then Maria drove slowly around the location for their meeting that evening. Jake had her loop around the massive park a couple of times until he was nearly satisfied. Then they parked on the edge of Parc de Cinquantenaire. Maria stayed with the SUV while Jake and Sirena walked to within a hundred feet of the Arch, strolling around the concentric circle of pathways and taking in the view like locals and not tourists.

“This is a cluster,” Jake said. “Too exposed and too many possible entry and exit points.”

Sirena slipped her arm into Jake’s left arm. “That’s why I selected it,” she said. “It makes us look weak, giving them overconfidence.”

She had a point, he guessed. Assuming they could pull it off. Once Jake had the scene planted to memory, including any cameras and lights that could be a problem, he led Sirena back to their vehicle.

“It’s not perfect,” Maria said from the driver’s seat. “But we’ve dealt with worse situations.”

Jake was certain of this. “Okay, ladies. I could use some food and then a nap.”

Maria smiled at him in the rearview mirror as she pulled out into sparse traffic.

Pointing at Maria, Jake said, “No comment about my age. I’ve been taking combat naps since my twenties.”

The Spanish lady simply raised her right hand in protest, continuing toward a place to eat.

29

Defense Intelligence Agency HQ, Washington, D.C.

Lieutenant General Ray Chavez swiveled in his chair, got up from his desk, and stepped toward the window overlooking the Potomac River. Part of him was still shocked that he had risen to this position of power in the U.S. government. His dark eyes scanned the 900 acre Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling, a cluster of disparate units from every military service, including the Coast Guard.

Chavez had just gotten off the phone with his former boss, Jake Adams, and the call had been disturbing to say the least. Jake wasn’t a man for hyperbole. He was a straight shooter to a fault.

After the call, he had sent a quick encrypted message to his people in the field in Brussels. He waited now for a call from the officer in charge, Captain Lenny Brown.

Although Jake had laid out the need for their support, Chavez had been reluctant to commit his people until he heard from the mission leader. In reality, this affair seemed to have taken a turn toward the private sector. Did the military have a role here? Chavez wasn’t sure. After all, the spacecraft that had been blown up shortly after taking off in French Guiana was owned by a private company. A foreign multi-national at that. And those killed had been murdered in Argentina and Europe. Not his problem, he thought. Plus, although NATO was their concern, the European Union was no real concern of theirs.

His phone buzzed on his desk behind him, he picked up the secure SAT phone and saw that it was from the fake company associated with his captain.

“Yeah,” Chavez said.

“Sir,” Captain Brown said. “Are you calling for an update?”

“I’m calling because I just got off a call from my old friend, Jake Adams,” Chavez said, stepping closer to the window, knowing it was shielded from any potential electronic surveillance with the best security possible.

Captain Brown waited for his boss to continue.

Chavez said, “Adams requested backup from our crew in Brussels tonight.”

“Backup, sir?”

“That’s right,” the general said. “What’s your idea on that request?”

“I’d be happy to get the team together,” Captain Brown said. “What’s required?”

“Nothing is required, captain,” Chavez said. “But it might be the right thing to do. You met the other two officers last night, right?”

“Yes, sir. The two women. One was a bit older and was American, but the other one was a younger Spanish woman. I don’t have an extensive file on either of them. The same with this Jake Adams character.”

“I can’t tell you much about the Spanish woman,” Chavez said. “I only know that she’s retired from CNI, the National Intelligence Centre of Spain. Now, I do know a bit about Sirena. She’s also retired from the CIA but has worked for every alphabet soup agency in our country. Prior to that, she was an officer with the Israeli Defense Forces as a helo pilot.”

Captain Brown gave a little whistle. Then he asked, “And Jake Adams?”

“Air Force Captain like you,” Chavez said. “Then he worked for the CIA before going private. But the Agency has called him back too many times to count.”

“Could he be working for them now?” the captain asked.

“Not likely,” the general said. “He’d be more likely to drag his balls through a mile of broken glass before working for them again.”

“Then who’s hired him?”

Chavez wasn’t sure his man had a need to know, but he decided to divulge Jake’s employer anyway.

“There’s money working for companies like that?” the captain asked.

“Don’t get any ideas, Lenny.”

“Just asking, sir.”

The general glanced out at the Potomac again, noticing a small boat cruising by with the current.

“You met with the Bulgarian, right?” Chavez asked.

“Yes, sir. And we’re convinced the Bulgarian government isn’t involved. They seem to think it’s rogue former officers. But some could be current also.”

“Jake said those he was forced to kill in Argentina were also former officers,” Chavez said. “What about that Bulgarian diplomat?”

“The Bulgarian intel officer mentioned one of their diplomats was assaulted by two women,” the captain said.

“How so?”

“Not much in the detail area, sir. But I think we can assume the two women involved.”

Chavez was already thinking along those lines. “You think they were fishing for info?”

“I’ll ask them tonight,” Captain Brown said.

“That’s not your problem, Lenny. You need to play a backup role. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll send you the direct line to Jake Adams,” the general said. “No need for my involvement.” Better to have plausible deniability, Chavez thought.

They both cut the call short and then Chavez sat behind his desk and swiveled around like a kid in his dad’s office.

•

Sancho paced back and forth listening to the call for a third time. Cloning the DIA captain’s phone had really paid off again.

Josie came into the secure room and stood for a moment in silence.

“What’s up, Josie?” Sancho asked.

She shut the door gently behind her and put a thumb over her shoulder as she said, “Was I that curious?”

Sancho smiled. “Are you talking about Jake’s daughter?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Josie simply nodded.

“You were worse,” Sancho reminded his young colleague.

“That can’t be true.”

“For the first week you asked me where I was going for my morning constitutional,” he said. “You know. My post coffee crap?”

“I did not,” she said.

He nodded rapidly and said, “Yes, you did. Give her a break. She just turned eighteen. And remember who her father is. That girl is crazy smart.”

“I’ve found that out already,” Josie said. “We did some online trivia and that girl didn’t miss a question.”

“What are her plans?” Sancho asked.

“No clue.”

“You mean she doesn’t know? Or she hasn’t told you?”

“She might know,” Josie said. “I’ll ask her.”

“She probably hasn’t even told Jake.”

Josie swiveled her head side to side. “I don’t think Jake will want her going to a traditional college.”

“Maybe she’ll come to work with us,” Sancho suggested. “I think she speaks around five languages. That could come in handy.”

“Seven languages and counting,” Josie corrected. “You think Jake would allow it?”

Sancho picked up his phone and said, “I have to call him now. Should I ask him?”

“Might want to wait,” she said. “I better go check on her.”

“Is she still making eyes at Brito?”

“He’s married with kids,” Josie reminded him.

“Roger that. Keep an eye on her. She’s young and beautiful. A dangerous combination.”

Josie smiled and left the secure room.

Looking at his SAT phone, Sancho tapped in Jake’s number.

“Yeah, you Basque Bastard,” Jake said. “What’s up?”

He heard background noise and asked, “Are you in a restaurant? If so, I can call back.”

“Spit it out,” Jake ordered.

“I need to brief you on two things,” Sancho said.

He told Jake about the call between the Defense Intelligence Agency captain there in Brussels to his boss in D.C., the DIA commander.

“Chavez gave the captain my number?” Jake asked.

“He did.”

“Alright,” Jake said. “We might need their help. More importantly, we need to know where they are so they don’t frack up the situation.”

“Is that a Battlestar Galactica reference?” Sancho asked. “I’m impressed.”

Jake hung up on him, leaving Sancho to look at his phone. He had meant to speak to Jake about his daughter. But that could wait, he thought.

30

Brussels, Belgium

Hours had passed and night and clouds shrouded the Belgian capital in an ethereal hazy gloom.

Jake had taken a long nap, showered, and now sat on the edge of the bed preparing himself mentally for this meeting. He had gotten a call from the DIA captain just before he dozed off, and they had worked out where Jake wanted his people stationed.

He glanced across the room and watched as Sirena and Maria made sure their main guns and backup guns were loaded and ready, along with multiple magazines of 9mm jacketed hollow points. Not only did all of them have the same caliber of guns, but they also all had Austrian-made Glocks. That made it easier to share magazines.

All of this preparation might be unnecessary, Jake knew. But being prepared was his personal motto.

Jake stood and adjusted his Glock 19 on his right hip, along with the spare Glock 43 slipped into an inside the waist holster at the small of his back. He covered both with his leather jacket and zipped the coat a few inches.

“Are you girls ready?” Jake asked. “Or do you need more primp time?”

“This from the man who just woke from a long slumber,” Maria said.

“Hey, I was in South America until recently,” Jake said. “Jet lag is a real thing.”

Sirena said, “You’ll be up all night.”

“Probably,” he said. “But from you two giggling like schoolgirls at a slumber party.”

“We don’t do that,” Sirena complained.

Maria nodded. “We do sometimes.”

Jake shifted his head toward the door. “Let’s go ladies.”

They went downstairs and out onto the street. Their meeting location was only a few blocks away, but they needed the rental Mercedes in case things went south. Maria drove them around the outer edge of the park and pulled up along the same road where they had parked earlier in the day.

Maria left the engine running. She turned to Jake in the back seat and said, “Shouldn’t I be at the meeting? After all, I helped set it up.”

Jake checked his watch and said, “Nina Petkova is expecting you to pick her up outside her apartment building in five minutes. I can’t show up there. She’s expecting one of you.”

“She never saw our faces,” Sirena said.

“But I’m a dude,” Jake said.

“And intimidating as hell,” Maria reminded him. “I wouldn’t get in a vehicle with you.”

“I could do it,” Sirena said.

“The DIA captain is expecting the two of us at the meeting,” Jake reasoned. “Let’s go.” Once outside, Jake had Maria power down the window. He said to her, “Bring her to the designated location. Keep her calm.”

“I’ll try,” Maria said.

He tapped her on the shoulder and then did the same to the top of the Mercedes.

Jake and Sirena then crossed the road and made their way down one of the paths toward the Arch ahead. As Jake expected, the lights around the massive park reduced the gloom to a subdued sadness. The wind swept in from the ocean some 60 miles away, bringing with it the cold sea fog, along with moist air.

Sirena walked on Jake’s left, leaving his gun ready to draw if needed. She slipped her right arm under his left arm.

“I should have put on another layer,” she said. “The wind is cold.”

He nodded agreement, even though the cool night air felt invigorating to him. Maybe he was used to it now having just come from the End of the Earth at the tip of South America, along with his short trip to Antarctica.

“Comm check,” Jake said.

Sancho and Josie both chimed in. Maria did also. Even Sirena did so right next to him.

“You want us to link in the DIA folks?” Sancho asked.

“As good a time as any,” Jake said.

Then over the comm, Jake heard the DIA captain, “We have you walking the west path heading north.”

“Roger that,” Jake said. “Remember, just you. We don’t want to spook them.”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Brown said.

As Jake walked, he had to remind himself that the man they were meeting had sent men to have him killed in Argentina and had nearly gotten his daughter killed in the process. He was likely responsible for the death of their research scientist in Antarctica, along with the destruction of a multi-billion dollar spacecraft launching their most sophisticated satellites.

The two of them strolled around the concentric pathways like a couple out for an evening walk. Maybe they were a longtime couple. Or perhaps this was a first date and they were feeling each other out. Either way, they were playing the game of a couple. Which they were. The difference was the fact that Jake and Sirena would simply never walk aimlessly. They always seemed to have a purpose for everything they did.

Maria said over the comm, “Picking up now.”

Jake knew Maria would bring Nina Petkova from the opposite side of the park and park on the other side of the Arch.

There was no need for Maria to let them know when Nina was in the SUV. The Bulgarian woman talked incessantly on a hot mic.

Sancho finally said, “Recording all of this. Not looking forward to going over it later.”

Jake and Sirena both laughed slightly.

“Obviously nervous,” Jake reasoned.

Pausing on the path, Jake turned Sirena toward him and gave her a long hug. He whispered, “Target approaching from the east.”

“Got him,” Captain Brown said. “Looks like Goran.”

Jake kissed Sirena, keeping his eyes open and trained on the man walking down the path some one hundred yards away.

As they finished their kiss, Sirena said softly, “Nothing from the other direction.”

Now they turned and walked toward the Arch. This time they kept a foot between them so they were both able to access their weapons. Jake unzipped his jacket for better access. Sirena’s long leather jacket was already unbuttoned and flowed in the wind with each step she took.

“Moving in,” Jake said, keeping an eye on the man approaching on a parallel track to his right.

“Parked and heading to the location,” Maria said. Then in the background they could all hear the Bulgarian woman ask who Maria was talking with.

As Jake and Sirena moved closer, Jake could see Maria through the Arch walking hand-in-hand with the Bulgarian woman like a mother with her child.

“Hang on,” Captain Brown said. “We might have company following Goran.”

Surprise, surprise, Jake thought. “Contingency,” he said.

“I’m on it,” the captain said.

Now, Captain Brown would follow the person following Goran. Jake only hoped they had no more tricks up their sleeves.

Scanning the area for potential targets, Jake switched channels and said to Sancho, “Any other comms picked up?”

“No, sir. Comm silent.”

What did this mean? Jake wasn’t entirely sure. But he had to believe that this Goran fellow would not be alone. He switched his comm to the normal channel.

Just as he was back on this channel, Captain Brown said, “The man looks like the Bulgarian from NATO. The one I met with this morning.”

“I thought this man wasn’t sanctioned,” Jake said.

“That’s what I was told,” Brown said.

Great. What kind of setup was this?

“Still go?” Maria asked.

“Yes,” Jake said. This could have only come across as an order.

Jake and Sirena slowed their pace slightly, so the former Bulgarian intel officer would get to the Arch before them and meet Maria and Nina from the other side. But Jake was sure the Bulgarian had noticed him and Sirena. Perhaps even identified Jake, since he obviously had a file on him, however sketchy that could have been.

Maria and Nina stopped on the other side of the Arch in such a position that Maria could use the stone structure for cover if needed.

Goran stepped under the Arch and stopped some ten feet from the two women, but he kept an eye on Jake and Sirena approaching to his left.

“That’s close enough,” Goran said, shifting his gaze slightly toward Jake and Sirena.

But Jake kept walking, leaving Sirena behind to cover his back.

“Goran Pavlov,” Jake said, ignoring the man.

“Jake Adams,” Goran said. “You are a hard man to kill.”

“Not if you send the right people,” Jake said, and then he stopped five feet from the Bulgarian.

“I heard you are a narcissist,” Goran said.

Jake said, “Not really. I’m a people person.”

Sancho sniggered in the comm.

“Crap,” Captain Brown said. “More potential targets. Contingency three.”

They only had three, Jake thought. He better hurry.

31

It was painfully obvious how this man knew Jake’s name and a little about his background. But that wasn’t Jake’s concern now. He needed to know the extent of their operation.

Stepping a few feet closer, still with a view of Maria and Nina to his left in his peripheral vision, Jake stopped and swiveled his hips slightly. This shift would do two things. It would give Jake a better view behind the Bulgarian. And it would possibly mask the draw of his weapon from his right hip.

“You need to leave my people alone,” Goran said.

That was great hubris, Jake thought. “Your people? You tried to have me killed in Argentina.”

The Bulgarian shrugged and said, “That was nothing personal. You were simply in my way.”

Over Jake’s comm, Sancho said, “An admission of guilt.”

“Why did you kill Gerhard Burk in Antarctica?” Jake asked.

“I have never been to that Godforsaken continent,” Goran said.

The man seemed sincere to Jake. He was about the right height and size to have killed Burk himself, but he could have simply sent an assassin to do this for him.

“Why would you want this scientist dead?” Jake asked.

Goran shook his head and said, “You are still catching up, Mister Adams. You do not seem to get it.”

“Educate me,” Jake said.

The man gazed at Jake intently now with sad brown eyes. “When you leave a job that you love, they throw you away like a piece of garbage. Barely a thank you for putting your life on the line all those years. Sure, you could have a measly retirement. But that usually will not happen until you are old and gray. Assuming you live that long. So, we all seek employment that can bring us a certain level of comfort in our old age. I am sure you must understand this, since you work for the billionaire Gomez.”

Jake didn’t respond verbally or nonverbally. He waited for the man to continue.

“We are all trying to survive in this cruel world,” Goran said.

For the first time, Jake noticed the man’s right hand shaking with an uncontrollable tremor. The Bulgarian put his left hand over his right one to cover the shaking.

“What are you saying?” Jake asked.

“I am saying that we are not dissimilar,” Goran explained. “The only difference is your employer.”

“And you work for the French,” Jake said. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said this much, but he wanted the man to know that he knew his employer.

Goran smiled. “You are better than your file indicates.”

“Any file you might have on me is likely decades old,” Jake said.

Shrugging, the man’s mournful expression shifted slightly toward Maria and Nina across the Arch. “We mean no harm to our diplomat at the EU.”

Jake wasn’t sure if this explanation was for his edification or that of some unseen listener. Was the man wired?

Into his comm, Jake gave a slight cough and said to Sancho, “Nine.”

“Nine what?” Goran asked.

“Sorry,” Jake said. “German for No. I sometimes slip into German. You must know this about me.”

Goran nodded about this fact.

In his comm, Sancho said, “Total comm wipe out in ten seconds. Other than ours, of course.”

“Of course,” Jake said and hesitated. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your diplomat, Nina Petkova. Why would you? You have her feeding you information for your employer.”

“All communication now shut down,” Sancho said in Jake’s ear.

Goran shifted his head sideways like a confused puppy. He was trying to get his comm to work.

Jake smiled and said, “It won’t work.”

“What?” Goran asked.

“Your comm unit. I was going to let you communicate with your people as much as you wanted to, but now we need to speak freely.”

“How?”

“Superior technology,” Jake said. “Talbot doesn’t provide this level of security for you and your people?”

“You do not understand again,” Goran said. He swiveled his head around as if scanning for unseen threats.

“Explain,” Jake said.

“I am simply one of many,” Goran said. “You think I run this show?”

Jake had to admit to himself that this was possible. “If not you, then who?”

The Bulgarian was seriously conflicted now. But this lasted only a few seconds.

The spot of blood on the man’s chest was followed shortly by a suppressed rifle firing. The suppressor on a high powered rifle could not entirely stop the sound of over three thousand feet per second leaving the barrel of a rifle. Then there was the distinct sound of a bullet whizzing by Jake’s head.

Jake’s response was slower than in his past, but he hit the deck and drew his weapon simultaneously. Once on the ground, his eyes were drawn toward the Bulgarian lying flat on his back with blood slowly slipping out from his dead body. The Bulgarian was dead before his body hit the ground.

The next few minutes were filled with gunshots from all around Jake. Sirena was firing as she ran toward the Arch. Maria was firing at the darkness. Then there was more gunfire from the direction of the DIA captain, followed by return fire.

Somehow, Jake got himself up and he ran toward Maria, Sirena and Nina. By the time Jake reached the ladies, they had taken cover behind the tall Arch and the connecting wall. He was across the Arch to have a better angle on the shooter.

“What the hell is going on?” Sirena asked.

Then, through his comm, Sancho asked the same thing.

“Captain, are you still with us?” Jake asked.

“Roger that,” the captain said. But his voice was strained. He was running.

Jake glanced across the Arch to Sirena. He said, “Let’s go. We need to get the hell out of here.”

“Go,” the captain said. “Belgium police are on their way.”

Remembering his research of this location, Jake knew the closest police station was only a few blocks away, on the other edge of the European Quarter of Brussels.

Shifting his head toward the north end of the park, Jake said, “Secondary route.”

Sancho said, “We’ll direct the police to the south end of the park.”

Jake and the three ladies came together on the road leading toward the three Arches. Instead of staying on the road, Jake led them to the grassy area with a thick hedgerow between them and the main roads.

Suddenly, two police cars came out of the tunnel in front of them.

They all hit the grass and waited.

Instead of stopping there, the police cars passed through the next tunnel toward the south side of the park.

“Now,” Jake said, herding the others across the road, down some stairs, and then vectoring toward the tall trees that would lead them toward the EU buildings.

Out of breath, they all hesitated among a group of tall trees for a moment once they reached the northern end of the park.

Once they crossed the edge of the park and onto a road that ran along the north side of the park, Sirena said, “Is that our vehicle?”

“Yes,” Maria said.

“Can someone tell me what is going on?” Nina asked.

Jake simply shoved the woman forward on the sidewalk. She knew more than she was letting on, he guessed. Time to take off the gloves.

They piled into the rental Mercedes SUV and Maria drove them away slowly, past police cars with lights flashing heading in the other direction.

32

Jake sat in the back seat behind Maria, with the Bulgarian EU diplomat to his right. Nina Petkova looked scared. Seeing a man killed right in front of her must have been a horrible experience for her. For Jake this was Thursday. Or whatever day it was.

Over his comm, Sancho said, “Maintain current route. You’re clear for miles.”

Putting his arm up along the back of the seats, Jake said to Nina, “Alright. Now you’re going to tell us everything you know.”

“What do you mean?” Nina asked. “You people took over my meeting with that Goran person. And now he is dead. You made that happen.”

Jake slapped his hand within a couple of inches from her shoulder, startling the woman. “We were having a conversation,” Jake said. “He was killed by someone on your side.”

“Why would our government do that,” Nina asked.

He hadn’t mentioned their government. “Who else could have done this?”

She shook her head vehemently side to side, but she said nothing. Yet, by biting her lower lip, Jake could see she was nervous. What kind of nerves, though? Nerves of guilt? Or nerves from being scared for her life?

“What’s your connection to Talbot Communications?” Jake asked.

Nina Petkova reacted to this question like the worst poker player in history. “They are everywhere in Europe. Why do you ask about them?”

Through Jake’s comm, Sancho asked, “Ask her about her bank account in Luxembourg.”

“Which branch?” Jake asked Sancho.

Nina looked at Jake with confusion.

Sancho told Jake the bank and branch in Luxembourg City. This was Jake’s bank also, so he knew how they operated.

“Tell me why you have a substantial amount of money transferred into your Luxembourg bank account,” Jake asked. He was mostly fishing, since Sancho hadn’t given him any more information than that.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Nina said with an acerbic attitude.

Jake considered her insolence and finally said, “Do you have people who love you?”

Sirena turned to glance at Jake when he said this.

Maria continued to drive slowly through a residential neighborhood, but she was also interested in Jake’s line of questioning.

Nina’s face was riddled with consternation. “Why would you ask me this?” When Jake didn’t answer, the Bulgarian diplomat continued, “Everyone must have someone who loves them.”

“Would they miss you when you are gone?” Jake asked.

“Are you threatening me?” Nina asked.

“What do you think?” Jake asked.

Again, Sirena gave him a concerned stare, even though she had told Jake about shooting the woman’s pillow to death the night before.

Nina was legitimately worried about her own fate now. “I would hope that my friends and relatives would miss me.”

Now Jake needed to back off a little, while still maintaining the possibility of harm. Jake said, “The bullet that took the life of Goran minutes ago could have just as easily struck you.”

“Why would someone want to kill me?” Nina asked.

“Obviously,” Jake said, “because you’re in over your head. You took money from a corrupt company so they could gain influence in the European Union with contracts in member states. Tell me I’m wrong.”

She said nothing, which said everything. Her eyes shifted side to side as if she were a cornered mouse seeking escape from a prowling cat.

Maria pulled over in front of an apartment building with terrible lighting, but she kept the engine running.

“Was Goran your contact for Talbot Communications?” Jake asked.

Nina swished her head but she said, “Sometimes. But there was another man.”

“Your first contact?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“It was a few months ago,” Nina said.

In his ear, Sancho said, “This is consistent with her first payment from the Talbot company.”

“So, this random man approaches you and you agree to take payments for favorable regulatory agreements?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly. I first met this man in October at an EU event. A gala. I was wearing a sleeveless red dress and he approached me, asking about the tattoo on my left shoulder.”

“A tattoo?” Jake asked.

Nina pulled her left arm from her jacket and pulled up her shirt, exposing a classy tattoo of a lion and a shield. “This is my family crest. He liked it and asked where I had it done.”

“Was it here in Brussels?”

“It was.” Then Nina told him the name of the tattoo parlor.

Jake processed this information until Sancho said in his ear, “The tattoo place is close to the EU headquarters.”

“What did this man look like?” Jake asked.

“He was tall and strong,” she said. “He had pronounced brow ridges and short hair, as if he had spent time in either the military or prison. Maybe both.”

“Bulgarian?” Jake asked.

“Yes. A native speaker from Sofia.”

“How can you tell?”

“Bulgaria has distinct regional dialects,” Nina said.

“Understood. So, this man must have had a name, right?”

After a brief hesitation, Nina said, “Iliya Ivanov. But he insisted I call him Ivan.”

“That’s a common name in the Slavic world,” Jake concluded.

She nodded her agreement.

“I’m on it, boss,” Sancho said through the comm.

Jake continued, “So, this Ivan makes first contact at the EU gala in October. And you saw him again in December. How did that go?”

“Let me clear things up,” Nina said. “We met a number of times in November also.”

“You were dating?” Jake asked.

She laughed. “No, not at all. We went for coffee. We talked about many things. He was interested in my work at the EU for Bulgaria.”

“You talked mostly about yourself?” Jake asked.

“No, the conversation was mutual,” Nina said. “But I had to work to learn about his background.”

Jake knew that whatever he told her would have been a lie. “What did he say he did for a living?”

“Import export,” she said. “But he was very vague about his actual work.”

Jake guessed so. “Okay, were you inclined to look into his background?”

“I did the normal internet search, but the man wasn’t anywhere on there.”

“Did you report the contact to your boss?” Jake asked.

“No. It was not necessary, since he was a citizen of Bulgaria.”

Technically, she was probably right. “Okay,” Jake said. “How did the money come about?”

Nina seemed a bit reticent. But she finally said, “Have you heard of partouzes?”

This got Sirena’s attention. She turned around quickly to hear what would come next.

Jake knew some French, but he wasn’t entirely sure of this word.

Nina continued, “These are private sex parties here in Brussels. People come from France and Holland to participate.”

“And?”

“One night in early December, Ivan asked me if I wanted to experience something interesting,” Nina said. “When he explained that we could simply watch, I agreed. You have to understand that we had been out drinking too much wine.”

Jake had a feeling he knew where this was going, but he let her explain the situation.

“So, we went to this exclusive party in a high-end neighborhood,” Nina said. “It was very private.”

“And you only watched?” Jake asked, his eyes shifting toward Sirena.

“At first. But then I got caught up in the moment.” She shrugged. “I am single and not a prude.”

Jake raised his hands. “Not judging. I’m just trying to get to the heart of your relationship with this Ivan.”

“No, no, no. I did not do anything with that man. I did not see him after we entered the party until it was nearly over.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “So, you had a little fun. What’s the harm?”

“Well,” Nina said. “Although I did not see Ivan, he obviously saw me. The next day we met for coffee and he showed me some very compromising photos from the night before. Along with a video.”

“But, you’re single,” Jake said. “Not a problem, right?”

She swiveled her head. “Technically, I am still married. We are separated and awaiting a divorce. His family is Orthodox. Very seriously Orthodox.”

“Let me guess,” Jake said. “This Ivan said it would be very unfortunate if these photos and video got out to the public.”

“Essentially,” she said with embarrassment.

This was the oldest trick in the spy manual, Jake knew.

“Alright,” Jake said. “I don’t care about your sexual proclivities.”

She looked confused.

“What you do in your private life is your business,” Jake explained. “I want to know how the money started. What did you have to do for that?”

Nina shrugged. “Feed him information. Make myself available to him. Look favorable on Talbot interests with the EU.”

“And give them access to your computer system at the EU?” Jake asked.

“I did not know this was happening,” she pled. “You have to believe me.”

“Somehow, he got your password,” Jake said.

“It became part of the deal,” Nina said. “Once I got in, they would not let me out.”

“How did Goran get involved?” Jake asked.

Nina seemed to sink into the seat. “In late December, I showed up at a meeting with Ivan and this other man was there. Ivan introduced him to me as Goran. He said he had to leave town for a while and Goran would be my contact for a while.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Jake asked.

She thought carefully. Finally, she said, “Ivan had a bandage on the left side of his neck, just under his ear. I asked him about it, and he said he had gone to my tattoo parlor and got a new tat. I asked to see it and he pulled back the bandage to show me it.”

“What was it?” Jake asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

“It was still bleeding,” Nina said. “Very recent. It was a cross. An Orthodox Cross.”

“Did this surprise you?” Jake asked.

“Not really,” Nina said. “He had talked often about his religion.”

“Boss, we’ve got a problem,” Sancho said in Jake’s ear.

Jake said, “Okay.”

Sancho continued, “We were able to track down this Iliya Ivanov. He used to work for Bulgarian intelligence until they determined he crossed the line one too many times. He served five years in a maximum security prison for multiple murders.”

Jake turned his head toward his window and whispered, “Only five years?”

“He escaped with two other prisoners,” Sancho said. “The police found the other two murdered on the outskirts of Sofia.”

Needing more privacy, Jake hopped out of the SUV and walked away from the Mercedes.

“We can talk now,” Jake said. “Any idea where this guy is now?”

“Based on the dead guy, Goran Pavlov, I’m guessing he’s close to you,” Sancho said.

“Where’s my jet?”

“On its way, boss. It’s not the same one you were on recently. It’s older.”

“Catalan crew?” Jake asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Jake glanced back at the SUV. He could barely see the three women inside the tinted windows.

“We need to bring the Bulgarian woman with us,” Jake concluded.

“Roger that. Four to extract.”

Tapping off the call, Jake shifted his gaze down the street. He was certain he saw someone in the front seat of a car over a block away. How was that possible?

Jake would find out soon enough.

33

Jake jumped back into the back seat of the SUV and said, “Let’s go. We’ve got company.” Then he drew his weapon and turned around to glance back at the vehicle behind them.

Maria pulled away at a normal pace at first, but when she glanced back and saw their tail, she increased the speed.

“How the hell did they find us?” Maria asked.

Glancing toward Nina for a moment, Jake said, “Does that matter? Just lose them. Sirena, check on the status of our jet. And find out what happened to our communications with Porto.”

Sirena got on her SAT phone but kept her eyes on the side mirror. None of their comms were currently linked to Sancho and his crew in Porto.

“They’re gaining on us,” Maria said.

“Get to the airport,” Jake demanded. Then he glanced back and saw that Maria was right. Although they had a larger vehicle with the Mercedes SUV, their tail was a much faster sedan. They could just pull over and have it out with them, but Jake had a feeling they could be outnumbered and outgunned.

Maria turned onto a ring road that would scoot to the eastern edge of Brussels and lead them to the private airport.

Sirena turned back to Jake and said, “Our ride is still fifteen minutes out.”

“Ask them if they have enough fuel to do a quick turnaround,” Jake said.

She got back on the phone with Sancho and said, “Plenty of fuel. And they’re working on the comm.”

Okay, he thought. But they couldn’t come in hot with bullets flying everywhere. Finally, Jake said, “Call in our tail to the local police. Tell them you saw it leaving the scene of the shooting at the park.”

Now on the ring road, Maria was able to pick up speed, but the tail closed the distance even more.

When Jake glanced back and saw that the car had more than one person inside and the front passenger had a gun out his window, Jake reached over to Nina and shoved her head below the seat back.

“Incoming fire,” Jake yelled, lowering his own head over Nina’s.

The back window shattered inward, but there was no sound of gunfire, only the revving of their engine and the squealing of tires as Maria took evasive action to swish the SUV in a serpentine fashion.

Jake raised his arm over the back seat and aimed his gun at the car behind them. He settled on a target and fired three rounds. His gun echoed through the enclosed space of the SUV.

The car behind them slowed slightly, but Jake kept his gun trained on them. The car was too far back to fire now.

He heard Maria and Sirena talking up front behind him.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked them.

“A bullet hit the control screen,” Sirena said. “We can’t see the map to the airport.”

“Pull it up on your SAT phone,” Jake suggested.

Nina tried to raise her head but Jake shoved her back down to the seat.

“Got it,” Sirena said. “Turn left on the next highway.”

“A lot of cross traffic,” Maria complained.

“Do it,” Jake yelled.

Suddenly the SUV cut hard to the left, sending Jake sprawling on top of Nina. He was certain they would roll, but the Mercedes held tight to the road, as the tires screamed in complaint and the cars coming from the other direction screeched to a halt. Jake raised his head high enough to see the headlights stopping just feet from the side of their vehicle.

Horns blared.

Then Maria hit the gas hard, lurching the SUV forward as the engine whined to the red line.

Raising back up to his seat, Jake glanced back and saw that their tail had not made the turn without hitting into the side of the lead car in the line.

“Punch it?” Jake yelled. “How far out?”

“Two kilometers,” Sirena said.

They just might make it, Jake thought. “Drive right out onto the tarmac,” he said.

“Will do,” Maria said.

“They’re coming,” Jake said.

Nina squealed under Jake’s left hand. “Why do they want to kill me?”

“They want to kill us all,” Jake said. “For different reasons.”

Maria had the SUV topped out now, nearly going airborne with any small bump encountered.

“Plane is coming in early,” Sirena said. “Landing right now.”

Pilots must have punched it like Maria, Jake thought. Good.

Jake turned and said to Maria, “Don’t stop at security.”

Maria’s eyes shot up into the rearview mirror. “Are you sure, Jake?”

“Positive.”

“Where are you taking me?” Nina asked, her voice like a confused little girl.

“Does it matter?” Jake asked. “Away from the shooters. If you stay in Brussels, you’ll be dead by morning.”

Nina started sobbing. She covered her face with both hands.

Good, Jake thought. That’ll keep her busy.

They wound around the outer road leading toward the private airfield. Jake remembered going through the gate after landing.

“The gate is down,” Maria said.

“Slow down and punch it at the last second,” Jake said.

She did as Jake demanded. The gate was made of cheap wood and flew away like it was cardboard. But one thing they had missed, and they found out that as soon as they passed through the gate. All four tires exploded from the raised spikes.

This didn’t stop or deter Maria, who punched it and rounded the edge of a hanger, their tires rolling on the rims and sending sparks flying into the dark night.

Instead of stopping on the edge of the hangar, Maria crashed through the metal link fence which placed them on the tarmac just as Jake could see the jet taxiing toward them. He twisted and glanced back at their rear, but their tail wasn’t there. At least not yet.

Leaning down to Nina, Jake said, “When we stop, you run to the jet. Do you understand?”

Nina nodded her head.

The SUV came to a halt sideways, with Jake having a view of the edge of the hanger. He jumped out with his gun leading the way. He headed directly to the back of the vehicle, swept away some broken glass with his sleeve, and opened the back end. The air smelled of burnt rubber and smoke and hot metal.

Just then, the jet taxied around and came to a stop some thirty feet away.

Maria came around with Jake, her gun out and ready.

Sirena had gotten out and had Nina by the hand. The two of them rushed toward the jet just as the flight crew lowered the hatch and ladder.

Jake handed a bag to Maria and he slung two more over his shoulders. Instead of putting the bags under the belly of the jet, he would bring them onboard with him.

As Jake walked toward the jet, with Maria right in front of him, the vehicle that had chased them careened around the corner, its tires also blown apart and driving on its rims.

By now, Sirena had pulled Nina aboard the Gulfstream and grasped the bag from Maria as she climbed the stairs.

Jake couldn’t let them get any closer. He raised his gun and started firing, until his slide snapped back, indicating he was out of bullets.

But his salvo had forced the car to stop at an angle to him. This gave Jake time to throw his bags up to Sirena in the aircraft and then swap out his magazine.

The jet started moving as Jake sent another flurry of bullets toward the stopped car. He backed his way up the ladder firing his Glock, and then Sirena and Jake lifted the door and latched it shut.

Glancing through the window, Jake could see flashes from the gunmen, but they were firing from too far away. He was glad the gunman from earlier in the evening hadn’t used his long gun now.

Within seconds, they taxied and lifted off.

Jake leaned back in his normal chair on the port side of the Gulfstream and he could finally relax. The jet lifted off into the dark Belgian night and soon passed through a conflagration of clouds that marginally shook the fuselage.

He tried to rest his eyes but kept getting interrupted by the three ladies jabbering about something or other. Jake waved over the flight attendant, a Spanish woman he had worked with for years, and then he whispered into her ear and she smiled and nodded.

Moments later, the flight attendant brought Jake a couple of fingers of his favorite 25-year-old rum, along with three beers for Sirena, Maria and Nina.

“This is a good start,” Nina said, taking her beer from the attendant and sucking down a third almost immediately.

Maria said to Jake, “How do you know I didn’t want one of those fancy rums you drink?”

“Would you like one?” the flight attendant asked.

“Just kidding,” Maria said. “Keep these coming.”

A few minutes later, Nina started to shake her head. Then she finished off her beer and tried to hand the empty bottle to some unseen person. The bottle dropped harmlessly to the carpeted floor.

Sirena said, “What did you do, Jake?”

He got up and went to the Bulgarian woman, checking for a pulse.

“She will be fine,” the flight attendant said, picking up the empty bottle.

“Why’d you knock her out?” Sirena asked.

Jake first checked the woman’s pockets and her jacket inside and out.

“At least buy her dinner first,” Maria quipped. “Wait, did you give me a sedative also. I could use the sleep.”

“No,” Jake said. “You two are fine.”

“We know that,” Maria said.

Jake now found the woman’s purse. He pulled out Nina’s phone and set that aside for a moment. He then checked over everything inside her purse. In one of the corners he felt something hard. He pulled out his little knife and slit a piece of the fabric lining. Then he extracted what he thought he might find. Luckily, it wasn’t a listening device. But it was a GPS tracker. One of the smallest Jake had ever seen.

Sirena got up and looked over Jake’s shoulders. “That’s how they found us?”

“Yep,” Jake said.

“You gonna destroy it?” Sirena asked.

“Nope.” Jake put the device back inside the purse and covered it with the contents. Then he checked her cell phone to make sure it was not compromised. It wasn’t. Luckily it was made by a subsidiary of the Gomez Organization. That would make this much easier, Jake thought.

“You want them to follow us,” Sirena said. “Genius.”

He wasn’t sure about that. But if he had to take on these guys, he’d rather do it on his own field.

34

Porto, Portugal

It was getting late in the evening and Sancho paced back and forth in the secure room off of the main security control room. He had just gotten off the phone with Jake, who had barely gotten out of Brussels with his team and the Bulgarian woman. Now Sancho was concerned about the safety of his team. If Jake and Sirena and Maria were leading these men to Porto, how could they remain safe?

Sancho had barely left the facility since the Gomez Organization had been under attack on many fronts. Even before Jake had demanded that Sancho beef up security, Sancho had called in everyone available from Portugal. Although this left some of their facilities vulnerable, it was a risk they would have to take.

Josie showed up at the door, a concerned look on her face.

“What’s up, girl?” Sancho asked.

Closing the door behind her, Josie said quietly, “Jake’s daughter thinks we should go out on the town.”

“Is she crazy?” Sancho widened his stance, hands on his hips.

“Well, she is Jake’s daughter.”

He realized that, of course. “Maybe we need to let her know about the threat.”

“She’s also asked why we need to hang out here tonight instead of going to my house,” Josie said. “She wasn’t too happy about leaving my house so quickly. Without a real explanation.”

Sancho didn’t want to explain the plan to Josie. At least not entirely. She probably wouldn’t approve. But there was no other choice.

“We have everything we need here,” Sancho said. “Did you pull out the blow up mattresses?”

“We did,” she said. “And we have enough food and water in here for a month.”

“Go get Emma,” Sancho said.

“Alright.”

Josie left and came back in less than a minute with the young lady. Her shadow, Brito, was right behind her.

Sancho waved Brito into the office also. He deserved to be briefed as well.

“What’s up, boss?” Brito asked.

Emma looked concerned. “Is Daddy alright?”

Raising his hands, Sancho said, “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I should have opened with that.”

“Then what’s up?” Emma asked.

Sancho did his best to explain what had happened in Belgium. When he was done, Emma gave him a confused expression.

“You’re confused,” Sancho said.

“I am,” she said. “Why in God’s name can’t these companies play nice?”

“Money,” Josie said.

“She’s right,” Sancho said. “There are billions involved. Maybe even trillions of Euros. These companies are all fighting for world domination.”

Emma paced nervously and finally turned to confront both Sancho and Josie. “And my Daddy is getting shot at because of money? Sirena too?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sancho said. “Your brother also works for the company. So does his girlfriend, Kadri.”

“I’m completely confused,” Emma said. “I thought that countries spy on countries. Not companies on companies. Am I naïve?”

“Your dad never talked to you about this?” Josie asked.

“He only recently told me a little about his past,” Emma said. “He’s not very forthcoming.”

Sancho laughed. “We know.”

“How long do we have to stay here?” Emma asked. “I like staying at Josie’s place.”

Josie rubbed her hand across Emma’s arm and said, “And I like having you there. But we need to make sure it’s safe.”

Emma gave the much smaller woman a big hug, but her eyes shifted over Josie’s shoulders at the Portuguese commando, Brito.

Sancho was kind of glad Jake wasn’t here at this moment. Everywhere that man went, danger followed.

35

Jake changed his mind and diverted the flight crew to Madrid. There was no way he could lead the bad guys anywhere near his daughter or their security headquarters.

In the darkness of early morning, they landed at the Madrid-Torrejon Airport and taxied to a private operations building, coming to a stop and then the engines shut down.

Jake glanced out his window across the runway and noticed the F-18 Hornets on the tarmac at the Spanish Air Base. During his days in the U.S. Air Force at the height of the Cold War, he remembered the Strategic Air Command using this base as a forward operating location.

“Are you alright, Jake,” Sirena asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just remembering something.”

“What about her?” Sirena asked, shifting her head toward the Bulgarian, Nina Petkova, who was still slumbering from her sedative.

Jake checked his watch and said, “She could be out for a while.”

“Do we bring her or leave her?” Sirena asked.

“I want her to positively identify Ivan,” Jake said. “Plus, why should she escape the fun?”

Maria came over to Jake and Sirena, her phone in her right hand. “All set.”

“How far is the safe house?” Sirena asked.

“Not far,” Maria said. “Five kilometers. I’ve used it many times over the years for renditioned terrorists.”

“Easy to defend?” Jake asked.

Maria shrugged. “Nothing is too easy. But on short notice.” She raised her hands.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. At least you’re familiar with the place.”

Sirena glanced out the window. “That’s our ride.”

“Leave the bags,” Jake said.

“It could be a while,” Sirena said, concerned. “I need a shower and fresh clothes.”

Jake agreed without much of a fight. He also needed new clothes and to shower. “You two get the bags and I’ll get our friend.”

The flight attendant opened the door and asked Jake, “What’s the plan?”

Sirena and Maria piled out with bags over their shoulders, heading straight to their waiting SUV.

“Hold tight here,” Jake said, and then he lifted the passed out Bulgarian woman over his shoulder.

“Do you need some help with her?” the flight attendant asked.

Straining, Jake said, “I’ve got her. Thanks for your help.” Before leaving the Gulfstream, Jake stopped and added, “Get some food and rest. Add some fuel if you need it.”

The flight attendant tapped her hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Will do, Jake. Will we be bringing you back to America?”

“I’ll let you know. Gotta go.”

Jake hauled the woman to the SUV and Sirena helped him land the woman in the back seat, buckling her in. He thought about the tracker in her purse and hoped it was working properly.

The drive to the safe house took less than fifteen minutes. The sun was still an hour or more from rising. Once they reached the house, Maria got out and tapped in a code to allow the tall gates to swing in electrically. They drove inside what appeared to be a compound used by an old Spanish family. The mansion was two stories high and was built of stone and stucco. Jake noticed at least four cameras from the gate to the house, and had to assume there were also motion detectors.

The driver simply dropped them off out front and left the compound as fast as he could get through the gate.

They all got into the mansion as quickly as possible, with Jake carrying the woman over his shoulder again.

Maria helped Jake lay the woman onto a chaise lounge in the entranceway. Nina grunted now like she might wake up.

“You have two choices with her,” Maria said. “A bedroom upstairs or a holding cell in the dungeon.”

“There’s a dungeon?” Sirena asked. “Cool. Let’s put her there.”

Jake turned to Maria and asked, “Who’s providing security for this place?”

“My old agency,” Maria said. “But it’s not active unless we have someone here.”

“Like now?” he asked.

“There’s a communications room downstairs also,” Maria said.

Jake took Nina’s purse and handed it to Sirena. “Make sure this is still transmitting. And you might want to lock us up tight and check for any vulnerabilities.”

Sirena nodded. “I’m on it.”

Accepting some help now, Jake and Maria carried the Bulgarian woman to the cellar. Considering the damp, dank atmosphere, the basement was relatively tidy and comfortable. The two of them settled Nina onto a bed in a far corner of a holding cell, which also contained a simple toilet and sink. They took off the woman’s shoes and tucked her under the covers.

“What about the door?” Maria asked.

The door was thick steel with multiple lock closures like that of a gun safe.

“Lock her in,” Jake said. “For her own safety.”

Maria did as Jake asked. Then she turned to him and said, “How much time do you think we have?”

“Not enough,” he said. “But more than I’d like. Let’s see the comm room.”

She led him into a room across from the holding cell, and Jake saw immediately that the equipment was not state of the art. Unless they were still in the 90s.

“Your people can remote access this?” Jake asked.

“Used to be able to,” Maria said. “Assuming the access is still available.”

“I’ll check on that,” Jake said. “Can you see if they left any food in this place?”

“Will do,” Maria said. She handed Jake the holding cell key.

“There are no windows or external access to the basement, right?” he asked.

“That’s correct.”

She left him alone and he went to work on the comm equipment. In a short while he had all of the cameras operable, along with the motion sensors around the perimeter of the building. Although the actual outside cameras might not have been state of the art, the computer system was only a couple of years old.

Jake made a quick call to Sancho.

“You made it,” Sancho said.

“Like you don’t have our position tracked already,” Jake said with a slight laugh.

“Well,” Sancho said. “I like to at least give you the appearance of privacy.”

“Everything alright on the home front?” Jake asked.

“So far. Emma is sleeping on a blow up mattress. In fact, I’m the only one awake.”

“I’m beginning to think you might be a vampire.”

“I’d like to think I’m more like a werewolf,” Sancho said with all seriousness. “What do you need, boss?”

“Our security system at the safe house. Can you access it from your end?”

Sancho laughed. “Does a baby shit his pants?”

“Okay.” Jake gave Sancho access to the computer system in the comm room and the man was right—Sancho soon had full access to everything Jake was seeing.

“Pretty old school,” Sancho said. “But that works in our favor right now.”

Jake heard massive clicking on the other end of the SAT phone as he watched the two large computer screens.

“You still there, Sancho?”

“I know what you’re thinking, Jake. You wish you could access the system remotely also.”

“That would be nice,” Jake agreed.

“Check your SAT phone screen.”

Jake pulled the phone from his ear and saw that there was a new icon on his opening screen. “What is that?”

“Your comm app,” Sancho said. “Something I made in my spare time.”

“You have spare time?” Jake asked.

“When you’re on your ranch I have much more time on my hands.” Sancho hesitated and then continued. “You’ll get an alert anytime one of the motion sensors goes off. Then you just click the camera image on the screen to run it in real time.”

“You’re brilliant. Remind me to get you a pay raise.”

“I don’t need the money,” Sancho said. “I need to sleep.”

“Do that now,” Jake said. “I don’t expect much to happen for a while.”

“You’re not my only concern.”

“Gomez have you doing something?”

“He’s still off the coast of South America,” Sancho said. “I’ve been keeping him informed of our progress. He wasn’t overly surprised to find out Talbot was involved. They’ve been competitors for years.”

“We’ll deal with the head of the snake later,” Jake said. “Right now we have to deal with his minions.”

“Roger that. Take care.”

Jake hung up and shoved his phone into his front pocket. Then he decided to see what else Maria’s old agency had stored down in the dungeon. There wasn’t much of interest until Jake opened a cabinet in the corner of the comm room and found five boxes of 9mm parabellum rounds. Fifty rounds in each box, and each box jacketed hollow points. He grabbed the five boxes and headed back upstairs.

36

The waiting was the worst part for Jake. He had always been a man of action. To sit and wait for an attack went against every cell in his body.

Luckily for Jake, Sirena and Maria, the National Intelligence Centre Spain had kept the safe house stocked with food. During the day, the three of them had taken turns bringing food to their guest in the dungeon and resting, while they monitored the security system for intruders.

Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing if the former Bulgarian intel officer was coming for them, or if he had simply decided to let things go. Jake knew Ivan’s type, so there was no way the man would let this go. He guessed the man was gathering his forces and would come for Nina Petkova soon.

Daylight had come and gone without anything significant happening. Well, a stray cat had set off the front motion sensor, triggering the camera to come up on Jake’s phone. That was followed by Sancho calling him from Portugal to make sure Jake had gotten the cat alert.

Now, the three of them fully rested and restless, they had just finished eating an evening meal and were in a second-story library. If someone came for them, this would be a much better place to take them on.

Jake stood alongside a wall of books checking out various volumes of literature, when Sirena came up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Thinking of reading Moby Dick in Spanish?” Sirena asked.

“I’m not sure I’d have the patience to read that in English again,” he said.

She glanced back at Maria, who sat in a large leather chair with her legs up over one side of it.

“You think Ivan and his people will come?” Sirena asked.

“I’d bet the ranch on it,” Jake said. “Guys like Ivan might not have a moral compass, but they make up for that lack of humanity with their determination. He’ll come.”

She lowered her voice now and whispered, “Is Maria acting funny?”

Jake slowly swiveled his head. “I don’t know. You know her better than me. I think she might be sick of this game.”

“Who isn’t?” Sirena asked.

She had a damn good point. He still wasn’t sure how he had gotten caught up in this whole affair. Especially with his daughter involved and being attacked in the past week.

“Let’s just hope we aren’t disappointed,” Jake said.

“Maria would never cross us.”

“I know. I’m not worried about her.”

Jake’s phone suddenly signaled, startling everyone in the room. He quickly looked at the screen and saw movement on the video feed outside. Then that camera went dark.

“Here we go ladies,” Jake said.

Maria jumped up and pulled out her phone. She followed up by drawing her weapon.

Sirena went to the door and turned off the lights, which let in a stream of light from the city through the window.

Then Jake’s phone started pinging like a pinball machine.

“Alright,” Jake said, drawing one of his two identical Glock 19s. “Stick to the plan. Lock the door after me.”

“Let me come with you,” Sirena said.

“Stick to the plan,” he repeated. Then Jake slipped out through the door into the second-floor corridor, which would give him a strategic overlook of the first-floor foyer below.

Just as Jake got to the ledge near the open staircase, he heard glass breaking below. Then moments later he could hear the sound of Slavic conversation. He could only pick up a few words.

Next, he saw two dark figures below, moving like shadows into the foyer. Both men had guns and appeared to be wearing masks. He could handle two, he thought.

The first man looked up the stairs, while the other man checked their six.

Jake stepped gently to the staircase with his gun pointed down toward the men.

The man looking up must have seen his movement. He quickly aimed and fired three shots at Jake.

But Jake was already focused on his target. He shot twice and dropped this man. Then Jake moved back to his left toward the library. He would still have an angle on the second man if he needed to.

The gunfire had alerted more men, though. Now the second man in the foyer had company.

Jake ducked back out of view, dropping lower, just as at least four men fired with everything they had, sending bullets striking the wall above Jake.

He crawled toward the banister and slipped his barrel between two rungs. Then he emptied the remaining bullets from his magazine before slipping back again just before the men returned fire.

Sitting back against the wall, Jake quickly replaced the empty magazine with a full one, releasing the slide forward and sending a round into the chamber.

Jake caught movement to his right and raised his gun just in time to fire on a man who had used the salvo from his friends as cover to climb the stairs. Shooting three times, Jake heard the man fall back down the staircase.

Now Jake crawled over to the staircase and saw another man trying to make his way past the two fallen bodies.

Surprised by Jake, the man aimed toward him and started firing. But Jake had provided only a sliver of a target. Just his gun and the top of his head.

Jake returned fire and dropped this third man, who landed on the other two guys.

Gunfire suddenly broke out below. But this seemed to be coming from another source. And it wasn’t simply semi-auto handguns. This was submachine gun fire.

Bullets were flying everywhere downstairs.

It was now time to get the hell out of the way, Jake thought. He crawled down the corridor until he was away from the banister and across from the library door.

With the cacophony of gunfire from below, Jake waited patiently for the Spanish Intel folks to do their work. Maria had convinced them to hang back on the outer perimeter and let these men come.

Jake suddenly saw movement on the top of the staircase again. This time a dark figure rushed around the corner with his gun leading him toward Jake.

Aiming low, Jake shot once, hitting the man in the leg and dropping him to the floor. Rushing to the man, Jake slammed his foot down on the man’s gun hand. Then Jake disarmed him, shoved his knee into the man’s chest, and aimed his gun at the guy’s face. Even with the relative darkness, Jake could see fear in the man’s eyes through his knit balaclava.

Jake ripped the man’s mask off, revealing a young man in his twenties. He looked Spanish.

“Who sent you?” Jake said, first in English and then in Spanish.

In broken English, the young man said, “We were paid to come here.”

“Who paid you?”

More gunfire downstairs. But now the shots were fewer. Sporadic.

Jake repeated his demand.

The man shook his head and said, “We were only paid to come and kill a woman. The photo is on my phone.”

“Why so many men?” Jake asked.

“The one who paid us said she might have security,” the man said.

Jake noticed the guy seemed to be fading quickly. Then he saw that his shot had hit the man square in his left thigh. He had hit the man’s femoral artery. He would be dead within a minute or so. Jake felt the man for his phone and pulled it from the guy’s jacket pocket. Then he brought up the image of Nina Petkova, which was already open on the phone.

Turning to the man again, Jake said, “Where is the man who hired you?”

Shaking his head, the nearly dead man said, “I don’t know. He hired my boss, who brought us in. Please, get me to a hospital.”

“Someone down there was speaking another language,” Jake said.

The man’s eyes closed slightly. Jake shook the man and slapped his face. “Wake up, shithead. Who were the Slavic men downstairs?”

Barely able to speak now, the Spaniard said, “Friends of the man who hired us.”

These were the last words the man spoke. He drifted out of consciousness and closed his eyes.

Now Jake heard only silence from below. He got off the dead man and crawled toward the banister, glancing down at the carnage below. Through the haze of gun smoke, the smell of death was in the air. He was back in the shit, and he didn’t like it much.

He crawled back toward the library door and knocked lightly, calling out who it was.

Slipping the door open slightly, Sirena saw that it was Jake and she opened the door for him.

He rushed in and Sirena locked the door behind him.

Here the room was brighter than the corridor. Jake caught his breath and saw that Maria was on the phone with someone.

Nodding her head, Maria tapped off the call and said, “I told them where we were and to not open fire on us.”

“Good idea,” Jake said.

“How many were there?” Sirena asked. “You should have let me come.”

“That would have doubled their targets,” he said.

“I heard you talking with someone,” Sirena said. “What did you learn?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Ivan was here. But he hired these men to come and kill Nina.” Jake handed the dead Spanish man’s phone to Sirena.

She went through the phone and then seemed to have an idea. She took out her SAT phone and made a quick call. When she was done, she continued flipping through the phone data.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked.

Sirena raised a finger when a call came in. “Yeah,” she said. “Jake is here.” She put the call on speaker.

Sancho said, “I back tracked the text from the one who hired the men.”

“That was quick,” Jake said.

“What can I say,” Sancho said. “I’m quick. Well, the AI is quick. Anyway, we might have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Jake asked.

“The text and calls that came into that phone also went to a number of other phones,” Sancho said. “Anyway, they pinged from cell towers.”

“Okay,” Sirena said. “From where?”

“Here in Porto,” Sancho said.

“Aw crap,” Jake said. “Lock down as tight as you can. Nobody goes anywhere.”

“Roger that,” Sancho said. “Are you on. . .”

“On our way,” Jake said. “Hold tight!”

Sirena tapped off the call.

Jake pointed at Maria and said, “Tell your friends we’re heading down.”

Then Sirena said, “I’ll let the flight crew know we’re on our way.”

Maria paced the room shaking her head while she talked quickly with someone. Finally, she got off the phone and turned to Jake and Sirena. “They want me here to clean up this mess. Did you shoot some men?”

Jake thought for a moment and said, “Four I think.”

Maria reached out her hand and said, “Give me your gun.”

He reluctantly handed over his Glock, along with the empty magazine. He still had his second gun in the small of his back.

“I’ll say I shot all of them,” Maria said. “Otherwise you’ll be stuck here forever.”

Good point, he thought.

With Maria leading their way, she led Jake and Sirena downstairs, where the foyer looked like a battlefield.

Before Maria spoke with her old agency officials, Jake handed her the key to the holding cell in the dungeon. “Make sure they keep her in protective custody until we can round up Ivan.”

“No problem,” Maria said. “I wish I could come with you.”

“You’ll be here for hours,” Jake told her.

Maria nodded understanding and then gave Jake a hug. She followed that up with a longer hug with Sirena.

“You take care,” Maria said. “Both of you.”

“Will do,” Sirena said.

“One of our people can give you a ride to the airport,” Maria said, and then glanced at the strike leader to confirm. The man nodded and directed one of his men to take Jake and Sirena anywhere they wanted to go.

Once they got out on the road and heading toward the vehicle, Sirena whispered to Jake, “We forgot our bags.”

“They can have our dirty clothes,” Jake said.

“I had a nice pair of shoes in there.”

“I’ll buy you some new shoes in Portugal,” he said.

They got into the National Intelligence Centre Spain vehicle and a young man drove them to the airport, where the Gulfstream was already fired up and ready to taxi.

Anxiety streaked through Jake’s body as he considered what might be happening right now in Portugal.

37

Porto, Portugal

Emma Adams was bored out of her mind. In the past few days she’d had nearly no contact with the outside world. Not that this was an unfamiliar experience for her. But at least on the ranch back in Utah she had things to keep her busy. She could ride anywhere on the ranch, high into the mountains, and her only company the birds and animals around her.

But this was different. Here in this bunker she was more like a prisoner. Without access to the outside, Emma had no clue about the time of day. It could have been noon or midnight for all she knew.

Josie got up from her terminal across the room and shuffled over to Emma. “How you doing, girl?”

“I’ve been better,” Emma admitted. “How much longer do we need to stay locked up?”

With reticence, Josie hedged a bit and then said, “It shouldn’t be too long. We just got word from your dad that he and Sirena are on their way here.”

“Where are they now?” Emma asked.

Checking her wristwatch, Josie said, “Somewhere in the air between Madrid and here.”

“How far is that?”

“With their jet it will take less than an hour,” Josie said. “We sent a vehicle to pick them up.”

“Did Brito go?” Emma asked.

“No. He’s still here. Your dad instructed him to stick with you no matter what.” Josie paused. “You like him.”

“If he wasn’t too old and married,” Emma said with a smile. “I guess I like his type.”

Josie put her hand on Emma’s arm. “Trust me. Portugal has many guys like him.”

“What about you?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have time for a man right now,” Josie said wistfully.

“Aren’t you afraid of time passing you by?” Emma asked.

The German woman looked confused and said, “I’m not even thirty. Trust me. I have time.”

Suddenly, buzzers and bells started going off at all terminals, making Josie rush back to her chair.

Sancho came into the main control room now and yelled, “It’s happening, people. Josie, inform Jake.”

Emma pulled up a chair next to Josie and watched her work at her terminal. “What’s going on? Would you please tell me?”

Without looking at Emma, Josie said, “We’re under attack.”

Turning toward the main entrance, Emma said, “Physically?”

Brito, the Portuguese commando, came into the room carrying a sub machine gun.

Emma instinctively touched her purse, which held the Glock 19 her father had given her for protection.

“Right now,” Josie said, “someone is trying to hack our system. If they get in, they can collapse our security system and unlock our doors.

Pointing at one of the terminals, Emma asked, “What is that?”

The screen showed a number of their cameras outside. Josie tapped one of the live video streams and this filled the screen with that particular feed. On the screen was a dark figure with a long gun creeping through the outer vineyard.

Josie yelled, “Physical breech on the north side.”

Brito hurried to them and looked over Josie’s shoulder. “I could go and take him out.”

Sancho yelled, “No. All security personnel stay put. This place is built like a vault.”

“We don’t have anyone out there?” Emma asked Josie.

“No,” Josie said, tapping her fingers on her main terminal. Then she brought up the screen with all the video feeds again. But two of the video cameras had been disabled. “Damn it. Two cameras down.”

Sancho rushed over and sat at a terminal across the table from Josie. “This is bullshit!”

“How long before we call the local police?” Emma asked.

Josie didn’t answer her.

Brito took the question, though. “We are not sure if they might be compromised. It is better if we handle this alone.”

Emma was confused. “But how?

Sancho said, “We have them right where we want them, Emma. The cavalry is on its way.”

•

The Gulfstream jet landed at the private airport and taxied quickly toward a hanger where three large black SUVs waited.

Jake unbuckled and stood up before the aircraft came to a halt.

“Josie just texted saying they were under attack,” Jake said.

Sirena unbuckled and checked her SAT phone. “Now they say they have multiple attackers showing up outside.”

Jake went to the door and waited until the jet stopped before he opened the hatch, dropping the ladder. Then, with the engines still whining, he rushed toward the SUVs.

A couple of men greeted them at the back end of the first SUV. They were handed ballistic vests, which they quickly donned. Then they were given helmets to put on.

Checking the friend or foe device on the top of the helmet, Jake said, “Inform everyone to go IR. I don’t want any friendly fire fuckups.”

The leader nodded understanding.

Now they put in their comm units and did a quick check.

Each helmet they wore also had Night Vision Goggles attached to the top.

“What do you have for us?” Jake asked.

The leader pulled out two MP-5s and handed one to each of them, along with a tactical ballistic vest with multiple full magazines in pouches. That, along with his sidearm for backup, should be enough, Jake thought. He and Sirena put on their vests.

“Let’s go,” Jake ordered.

They all piled into the SUVs and were immediately shoved back into the seats as they rushed off toward the Gomez security compound.

•

Sancho got onto his comm and said, “Everyone to IR. Hold until our team arrives.”

He got confirmation back from those outside and then Sancho turned to a confused-looking Emma.

“What’s IR?” Emma asked.

“Our people are wearing tactical gear,” Sancho said, trying to best describe the situation without getting too much into the weeds. “They have a friend or foe device on them that lets everyone on our team know they’re one of the good guys. IR is Infrared. It’s not visible to the bad guys. But our guys can identify each other.”

“So they won’t shoot each other,” Emma said. “Does my dad and Sirena have one of these?”

“They do,” Sancho said. “They’re on the ground and on the way here.”

Emma seemed relieved but conflicted by this news.

Sancho gave her a thumbs up. “Trust me. Your dad is good at this. He’ll be fine.”

Hopefully, he thought.

38

Jake knew they had planned for this unlikely event, but he prayed that all of his people would react properly to their training.

He lowered his window and let in some fresh night air.

Sirena put her hand on his and said, “She will be fine. We built that facility stronger than Fort Knox.”

“I know,” Jake said. “I just never wanted her to be a part of this.”

“It’s a one-time deal,” Sirena said. “Then she can go off to college next year.”

“That sounds worse than a shootout,” he said.

Turning from the front seat, the strike team leader said, “Sir, where do you want us to pull up?”

“Just like our training,” Jake said. “Block off their exit.”

Pulling out his phone, Jake pulled up the security camera feeds for their facility. A couple of them had been taken offline, but he knew they would never find some of the others. He had set up their camera coverage that way from the beginning. Show only what he wanted them to see. Now he toggled to a video feed and he smiled.

Sirena leaned in and saw the live feed. “Looks like everyone is nearly in place.”

“Other than us, yes,” Jake said.

“About two minutes to our arrival,” Sirena said.

•

Back inside the secure Gomez Organization facility, Sancho switched from the smaller computer screen to a view on the large screen that covered most of one wall.

Emma came in close to Sancho and said, “Is that the river?”

“Yes,” Sancho said. “One of our teams is moving up the hill from the river.”

“How do you have this video?” Emma asked.

“As you can see, there are two shots,” Sancho explained. “The one on the left is a satellite feed from one of our own satellites. The one on the right is a drone video hovering above us right now.”

“Who’s controlling that?”

Sancho pointed across the room to a younger man at a desk with a number of large screens in front of him.

“Where is my dad and Sirena?” she asked.

“Josie,” Sancho said. “Pull back on the SAT feed.”

Josie made a quick adjustment and the satellite feed zoomed out, giving them a much wider view of the mountainside. In fact, from this view Emma could see the house where she was staying with Josie.

Sancho pointed to a line of vehicles heading toward their location. “Here they are.”

Emma scrunched her nose and said, “How do they know where the bad guys are?”

Running his hand across the bottom of the large screen, Sancho said, “These are camera feeds from around our position. Your dad set these up. He knows where each one covers, and he has access to everything we see.”

“That’s pretty smart,” Emma concluded.

“That’s why Gomez hired him,” Sancho said.

“And why you and Josie were hired,” she said.

“Your dad hired us and we hired most of the others. Even your brother hired some of the security personnel out there.”

“But it’s so dark,” Emma noticed.

“All of our people have Night Vision Goggles,” Sancho said.

“My dad has a pair in his office,” Emma said. “I’ve played with them a couple of times. Pretty cool.”

Sancho pointed to the SAT feed again. “They’ve arrived.” Then he yelled to the rest of the room, “Here we go people.”

•

Jake and Sirena piled out of the SUV and those from the other two SUVs met up with them. The three SUVs were parked at a strategic location that blocked the only road in or out of the converted vineyard.

“All right,” Jake said. “Watch your crossfire. Remember, we have a team moving up from the river.”

Jake pointed toward the west and directed one four-man team to hike down through the vineyard that way. The second four-man team would take the east side. He and Sirena would be accompanied by two others to move down the center. The three SUV drivers would cover their backs, staying behind at the vehicles.

They moved slowly and methodically down the hillside toward their security facility. Jake stopped a couple of times to view the video feeds. They had found and disabled two more cameras. Still not a problem, he thought. But the men had found the entrance to the bunker. Would they have something to blow open the door? Not likely, but possible.

He put his phone away and continued down the hill.

Seconds later, gunfire broke out near the entrance. The next minute was filled with chaos as gunshots rang out through the cool night air.

Over the comm, Sancho reported, “Team four engaged.”

That was the team from the river, Jake knew.

“Strength?” Jake asked as he picked up the pace down the hill toward their target.

“Looks like at least ten,” Sancho said. “Maybe more.”

Okay, Jake thought. They had the numbers, the initiative and the homefield advantage.

Seconds later, they emerged from the vineyard and entered an olive grove, along with lower shrubbery. This would give them cover, but it could also give their enemy places to hide.

Jake paused the team and said in his comm, “Team two vector to the west and cut off that road.”

He got a response back acknowledging his demand. This was the dirt road that led from their bunker to Josie’s house and the house where Sancho lived.

“Team three move around toward the parking lot,” Jake said.

The other teams moved on Jake’s command, leaving just the four of them together under an olive tree.

Meanwhile, gunfire continued from the hillside only a hundred yards down the slope. They were close enough now to see the muzzle flashes lighting up the darkness.

Right now, their four-man team four was engaged with at least ten men. They needed to get into the fight pronto.

Jake headed out at a quickened pace, keeping the shrubbery in front of him to cover his descent toward the front of their bunker opening. Sirena was to his left flank and the other two men in his team were to his right.

Gunfire suddenly broke out, the flashes of muzzles flying toward them on the hill.

Jake hit the dirt. So did the other three of them. After quickly verifying their friend or foe IR signal, all four of them opened fire on the spot where the gunfire had originated.

They paused for a moment, and then more gunfire erupted. This gave them a target. Jake could also spot movement in his night vision.

Jake fired his MP-5 until his magazine was empty. He rolled to his side and pulled another full magazine from a pouch on his vest.

Sirena fired at a slower pace, carefully picking her targets.

And then silence.

Jake glanced over at Sirena, who got to her knees and shrugged.

“Status,” Jake said to everyone on the comm. He heard back from all teams but team four—those who had come up from the river. “Status four,” Jake said.

Finally, team four leader said, “Front of building secure. But they are scattering like rats.”

“Which direction?” Jake asked.

“Every direction,” team leader four said.

Jake got up and waved for his team to move forward toward the front of the entrance ahead.

Suddenly, a number of targets could be seen running toward their left along the road. Jake got on the comm to alert one of his teams. Within seconds, that team engaged those men trying to escape. Then Jake also heard gunfire from the parking lot area to his right.

Through his comm, Jake heard Sancho. “Three men heading right toward team one.”

Jake didn’t have time to react. His vest was struck center mass with a number of rounds, just as his brain saw the flashes of light in front of him.

He hit the ground hard, hearing gunfire all around him from both directions.

Knowing he was hit, Jake wasn’t sure if any rounds had gotten past his vest.

In much pain, Jake rolled to his side and tried to level his gun in the direction of the enemy.

Sirena rushed to Jake and said, “Are you hit?”

“My vest, I think,” Jake said. He checked himself over and felt nothing moist. “No blood.”

“I dropped a couple,” Sirena said.

Still in pain, Jake raised himself and glanced to his right at the other two from his team. They were on one knee with their guns sweeping the area for potential targets.

“Let’s go,” Jake said. In the comm he said, “Team One coming in.”

“Roger that,” Team Four leader said.

When they reached the first two men down, Jake checked the man and saw it was a younger man.

“Jake,” Sirena said. “Over here.”

Jake got to the next man and Sirena had just rolled the man over. It was Ivan Ivanov, the Bulgarian who had been behind this whole affair. The man who had killed their researcher in Antarctica and set up the Bulgarian woman, Nina Petkova, to help attack the Gomez Organization.

The next half hour was spent mopping up and securing the remaining men from Ivan’s crew. Many had been killed, but enough remained to turn over to the Portuguese authorities. It would take all of the Gomez Organization influence to straighten out this situation, Jake guessed. Money bought results.

39

Jake and Sirena gathered up Emma and they rushed to the private airport on the edge of Porto before the local authorities could respond to the situation at the Gomez Organization compound. Jake knew he had no legal status in Portugal. Although he had years ago been afforded the ability to carry a handgun in the European Union by the Austrian government, that didn’t mean he could shoot to kill those attacking the Gomez compound. His local security personnel did have the right to protect using force, which is how Jake and his son had set up their security apparatus.

Now, safely flying over the Atlantic on the corporate Gulfstream, Jake leaned back in his plush chair and closed his eyes slightly, only the hum of the jet engines resonating in his brain.

“Daddy,” Emma said from the chair across from him.

Jake opened his right eye. “Yeah.”

“Is it always this intense?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.

Sirena chimed in. “Just answer your daughter’s question, Jake. She’s old enough now.”

Opening both eyes, Jake sat up in his chair and picked up his glass of rum, taking a long sip. “Sometimes we get into some strange experiences,” he said. “But it’s not always like this. Sometimes it’s downright boring.”

“You keep rubbing your chest,” Emma said.

Jake let out a deep sigh. Then he raised his shirt so his daughter could see his bruises.

Emma gasped. “You were shot?”

“I got hit twice in the vest,” Jake explained.

“No, Sirena already told me that,” Emma said. “I’m talking about the other scars.”

Jake laughed. “This is just a few of them.”

“You should see his back,” Sirena said, and then sipped on her bottle of beer.

“Another day,” Jake said, lowering his shirt to his waist.

“But those are bullet wounds?” Emma asked.

He thought about the years he had been home full time, and how he had never taken his shirt off in front of his daughter. Jake wanted to insulate her from all that was bad in the world. But he knew that wasn’t going to be possible anymore. Not after what Emma had experienced in the past week.

“Some are bullet wounds,” Jake said. “Some are stab wounds.”

“But he’s alive to talk about it,” Sirena said.

“She’s right,” Jake said. “And you should maybe ask to see her wounds also. Scars are reminders of survival, Emma.”

His daughter reached across and placed her hand on Jake’s forearm. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked.

Emma shook her head. “I’ve been a bitchy little girl. It’s time to grow up.”

Part of him knew this was true, but another part of him remembered her as he carried her from the shootout in Italy that had killed her mother. An event that would be forever burned into his psyche.

He put his hand onto hers and said, “Don’t grow up too soon, young lady. Your innocence is endearing.”

“But I’ve been trained since a young age by your sister, your brother, my brother, Sirena and you to protect myself,” Emma said. “You’ve trained me on every gun you own. I’ve learned half a dozen forms of martial arts. I can ride a horse better than anyone on the ranch. I’ve learned eight languages already and counting. Plus, I’ve learned to fly.”

Jake turned toward Sirena quickly and said, “Yeah, we need to talk about that, Sirena.”

“You’re welcome,” Sirena said. “Sounds like Emma saved your ass in Argentina.”

Jake couldn’t deny that. And he wasn’t angry that Emma had learned to fly. He was just a little ticked off that the two ladies had kept it from him.

“No more secrets,” Jake finally said. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he could be in for a barrage of questions from Emma. So he cut those off for now by adding, “I’ll answer your questions back at the ranch.”

Emma gave him a broad smile.

Jake leaned back again and closed his eyes.