All Necessary Force (34 page)

The pilot began to feel light-headed, unsure of what to believe. He swiveled his head looking for Kamil. The man would be here at any second.

He said, “I’m meeting him now. At a café.”

The woman became agitated. “Where? Where are you?”

The pilot hesitated. He had no idea who this was. After the last few days, his ability to trust anyone he didn’t know had evaporated. He needed a cut line, something he could anchor against. He asked a simple question.

“What’s my friend’s name?”

He thought he heard whispering in the background, and a rustling of paper. Then, “I can’t pronounce it. It’s Indonesian.”

Can’t pronounce it? She’s trying to read the name. She hasn’t talked to him.

Which scared him, but also told him she had something from his partner. And, since she wasn’t with the Arab, the fact was something to consider.

He said, “I’m not going to tell you where I am, but I’ll meet you. You tell me where I can see my friend, and we’ll do it that way. Some place public.”

The woman backed off, saying, “Okay, okay, we can do that, but you are in danger now. I mean right
now
. Get out of there.”

The pilot felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into the flat eyes of a killer. The same man who had sawed through a crewmember’s neck with all the emotion of cutting up a chicken for dinner.

Thinking fast, the pilot said, “No, no. Don’t file the flight plan yet. I don’t know when I’m departing. Leave the date open.”

And hung up.

Kamil placed a hand on his other shoulder, standing behind his chair. He leaned in and whispered into his ear. “Sorry I’m late. Where did you get that cell phone?”

Jennifer put the phone down and said, “We’ve lost him. The Arab’s there.”

Retro said, “How do you know? What happened?”

“He started babbling nonsense about flight plans, then hung up. He was trying to cover who he was talking to.”

I said, “He’s got about six minutes to live. The Arab gets him into a car, and we lose. We know from the tower track this morning he’s in a footprint within a half mile of here. What else do we know? How can we find him? Think, people.”

Finger raised, Jennifer said, “He’s at a café. He said that.”

She was so sure of herself, yet the information was so vague, it hit my funny bone.

“Jesus, why didn’t you say so? I can’t be expected to plan without all the information. Are you hiding a holocaust cloak as well?”

Jennifer got the reference to
The Princess Bride
, the single movie we both enjoyed, and rolled her eyes.

Decoy said, “Wait, she’s actually on to something. The Arab knows as much as we do about Budapest, and he’d want a location that would be easy to find. He wouldn’t pick some obscure local place, where he’d stand out. He’d pick a tourist area.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So what?”

“Well, right around the corner is a little promenade that’s lined with cafés on both sides. That’s where I’d plan a meeting.”

I looked at him, waiting on an explanation.

“Hey, I had a life before the Taskforce. On the teams, we used to call this place Booty-Fest.”

“Huh. Your man-whore days might pay off. Lead the way.”

Decoy led us to a park called Jokai Square, a promenade full of gardens
and statues. Actually, a pretty cool area that I’d like to come back to when I wasn’t under the gun to stop a terrorist. It had streets on the north and south sides, but the middle was basically an open grassy area, and just like Decoy said, it had restaurants, nightclubs, and cafés lining the way.

We split up left and right, leaving Buckshot as the van driver. I took north with Jennifer. Decoy and Retro took south.

This early in the morning, we would have little trouble getting an ID, since each café had only a few people in them, and most of the restaurants and nightclubs were closed. We slowly trolled the park, Buckshot shadowing us on a parallel path one road over.

We had one false call, which was quickly eliminated when Retro transmitted a cell phone picture of two guys in a café. The team was forcing the issue, wanting to be right, but the photo contained what looked like two Cuban guys. I didn’t need Jennifer to call bullshit.

We reached Andrassy Avenue with nothing.

Retro said, “What now?”

“I don’t know,” said Decoy. “That was the only place I can think of. I’m sure there’re others. Besides the bridal salons, I didn’t do a whole lot of cultural engagement.”

I felt the clock ticking, knowing we were about to lose our only hope of connecting with the EFPs. The contact on the phone was about to die.

Jennifer said, “Why don’t we just keep going?”

She pointed across Andrassy. “I can see umbrellas over there as well.”

Decoy looked and said, “Damn, she’s right. None of that shit was here in ninety-eight.”

57

O

n the other side of Andrassy Avenue, I could see a large four-story building with some sort of latticework scaffolding built of old rough-hewn lumber, like someone had decided to work on the façade, then quit, leaving the scaffolding in place. Directly to the southwest of the building was another promenade, this one fronted by a sculpture of different-colored flowers in the shape of a cross on a shield. Past it, several statues sprinkled among the trees competed with the outdoor cafés for the attention of the pedestrians walking around. The promenade itself was much narrower than Jokai Square

“Okay,” I said. “This one’s a little less open. One street on the right and nothing on the left. We’ll stagger by time. Decoy and Retro go first, taking the path straight down the middle and eyeing the left side. We’ll give you two minutes and follow in your footsteps looking to the right. Both teams be prepared to redirect on the other’s call.”

While Retro and Decoy crossed the street, I contacted Buckshot and told him our position, giving him instructions to shadow us on Terez Boulevard a block to the northwest.

Jennifer and I busied ourselves looking at a statue of some old Hungarian guy to blend in while we waited. When I made some comment about how they could have picked a more attractive subject, she said, “It’s Jokai Mor. The Hungarian novelist this square’s named after. Do you ever do any research?”

“Just enough to get my guy. Although I was thinking about researching those bridal salons Decoy mentioned. Know anything about that?”

She glared at me, making me take a step to the right before she could
do some damage. The fact that the comment had aggravated her gave me a small bit of optimism that I was making progress reversing the clock past the incident in Egypt. Before she could say anything, our radios squawked.

“Pike, Decoy. We have ’em. Pictures on the way, but it’s them.”

Jennifer pulled out her phone, looked at the images, and nodded her head.

“That’s the Arab and the Asian man who walked out of the Prague hotel while we were conducting surveillance on the original guy.”

I clicked back, “Where are you?”

“Across from a place called Café Brazil. It’s the third café on the left side. Red and green umbrellas. They’re outside sitting at a table. The Asian looks like he’s scared.”

“Can you stay?”

“Yeah, we’re across the way at a park bench. We’re good. They can’t see us and we can trigger.”

Crossing the street, I said, “Okay, here’s what I want—”

Decoy cut me off. “They’re standing up. They’re leaving. Headed away from you, away from Andrassy.”

Shit
. I looked at the map on my phone, seeing Buckshot’s position. “Buckshot, come down Terez and turn south on the first street you get to. It’s a one-way with a big-ass Magyar name that begins with a
D
.”

“I got it. I see it.”

“Stage where it curves away from the park to the southeast. That’s where we’ll take them. Break-break. Decoy, leapfrog to the end of the block. Get ahead of them.”

“Moving. What about the targets?”

“We’ve got the eye. We’ll be on them in seconds.”

We were moving at a fast walk when Jennifer jerked my arm to slow me down. I saw the pair to our left front, weaving in and out between the tables and chairs.

“We got them. We’ll bring up the rear now. I want to hit them before they get a chance to get into the main arteries of the city, while they’re still here in the park.”

We followed behind them for a minute or two, my brain working
through options at the speed of light, trying to assess the risks and rewards of taking them down right here in public, in daylight. It could be done, I knew from experience. You wouldn’t believe the things you can get away with right in front of people. The kicker was making it look natural. Plausible.

I had no doubt we could take the Asian, but the Arab was a different story. In the back of my mind was the image I had snapped of him with the Blackjack before he’d entered the house last night. Assessing his surroundings like a wolf. Looking for the weakness before he continued. He wouldn’t go down easy. He had a sense for trouble.

Buckshot called, “I’m at the bend, but I can’t stay here. It’s a one-way road with no parking. I gotta keep going or get police attention.”

I tapped Jennifer. “Keep eyes on. Don’t lose them.” I returned to the radio. “What about back up the road, before you enter the square?”

“Maybe, but it’s going to be close. Pike, this is asking for trouble. I think we let them go.”

“Can’t. He’s going to kill that guy, then disappear. He’s not going to bed down tonight. He’s already left a blood trail, which means he has a goal in mind.”

Decoy called, “We’re at the end, and there’s a café here. They’ll be walking right by it. It’s full of people. We might be able to take one, but not two. Someone’s going to see the action.”

I wanted to start kicking shit, but remained cool as ice on the radio. “Roger. Buckshot, circle the block and stage on the same road, keeping in between the buildings before it breaks out into the square. Decoy, Retro, find a spot for takedown right there. In between the buildings before the square. Can you do it there? What’s the visibility?”

Jennifer said, “Two minutes. They reach the end in two minutes.”

Decoy came back. “Got a spot, but, Pike, it’s shaky. No visibility from the park, but there’s a group of schoolkids looking at a statue at the entrance. They’ll see the hit.
If
he comes this way.”

“All right, everyone listen. They keep going straight, we let ’em go. They make the turn to Terez Boulevard, which I think they will, we take ’em. I want them alive. No killing. Get ’em in the van and we haul ass.”

Buckshot said, “Roger. I’ll be there in thirty seconds.”

Decoy said, “Pike, the schoolkids. I can prevent anyone from the café from seeing, but I can’t do shit about the kids. They have a clean line of sight to me.”

I saw the street about seventy meters in front of me, the targets about thirty meters closer to the end than I was. I could see the kids, along with a teacher talking to them.
Need a diversion. Something to focus their attention away from the left.

“Jennifer, break away from me. Go to the right of the schoolkids and get their attention.”

“How in the hell am I going to do that?”

“Jesus, I don’t know. Figure it out. But don’t do it until you see the targets commit to Terez Boulevard. They keep going straight, let them go.”

In my head I was tracking about forty different variables and knew I was on the ragged edge of causing the entire hit to collapse. Too many things to control with too few people.

She glanced at the targets, saw them still moving, and returned to me. “Pike, don’t push this. Don’t… do something we’ll regret.”

I had precious seconds to get her on board. I didn’t want to lose sight of the targets but decided to give Jennifer my undivided attention. I stopped and took both of her shoulders in my hands. “Jennifer, we’ve got about one minute to make this work. If it doesn’t, I’ll let it go, but I need you in place. I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to be here. To be responsible for what’s about to happen. I know I’ve put you in situations before you were ready. Caused you to do things that made you question who you are, but your feelings need to take a backseat right now.”

She glanced down the square toward the target, refusing to meet my eyes. I shook her. “Look at me.”

She snapped her head back at my tone.

“I need you. We need you. Right now.”

Something flitted behind her eyes. A brief look of resignation tinged with anger. She broke away from me without a word, headed toward the children across the square.

I picked up my pace, closing within twenty feet of the targets. “We’re thirty seconds out. You guys set?”

Decoy came back. “Yeah, we’re set, but those fucking kids are still there.”

“Don’t worry about them. The targets turn the corner toward you, the kids will be focused the other way. I’ll bring up the rear. We’ll double-team the Arab. Who’s on him?”

Retro said, “Me. Decoy’s got the Asian.”

“Roger all. Thirty seconds.”

I glanced quickly at Jennifer, now on the other side of the schoolkids, talking to the teacher.
Jesus, I hope this works.

The targets reached the street and immediately turned left, amping up the adrenaline.

“They’re going to Terez. Ten seconds.”

I turned the corner, saw the targets abreast of our van, and heard a startled yelp behind me. Buckshot, in the driver’s seat of the van, came on, “Target’s ten feet out. Pike, I can see Jennifer. She just went down. Something happened.”

I came back, now solely focused on the hit, no emotion whatsoever. “Execute, execute, execute.”

I rushed the Arab from the rear, seeing the van door slide open in slow motion. The team deployed from an alcove, pistols drawn, Decoy taking the Asian guy and Retro focused on the Arab. The Asian froze for a second, then fell to his knees with a wail. Decoy hammered him in the head, cutting off the warbling with a thump, then threw him into the van.

The Arab reacted instantly, snarling and whipping a seven-inch fillet knife at Retro’s body. He jumped back, holding his pistol close to his body and shouting, “Don’t, don’t!”