Justifiable Homicide: A Political Thriller (Robert Paige Thrillers Book 1) (29 page)

He kept up the pace until he reached Golden Beach, which was just north of Sunny Isles Beach. Shortly after crossing the border he heard a siren. He looked out his rear view mirror and saw a police car. He had crashed through the trap the Golden Beach police set up to catch speeders. It was a major source of revenue for the small bedroom community. They didn’t have much else to do, so they expended most of their resources pulling over speeders.

Paige was somewhat relieved, and pulled over. He was concerned that Karshenboym might still be in pursuit, but he hadn’t seen her in his rear view mirror for many blocks. He figured she had probably abandoned the mission.

The policeman pulled in behind Paige, got out of the car and started walking toward them. His hand was on his pistol, which was still in its holster. A second police car pulled in behind the first one. The Golden Beach police usually work in teams. Most people who speed in Golden Beach are only 5 or 10 miles over the 35-mile limit. Paige was clocked at over 90. They were treating it as a special case and were taking extra precautions.

As the officer approached the driver’s side of the car, Sveta started screaming before either Paige or the officer could say anything.

“Someone just tried to kill us! Look! They shot out the window!”

She continued to try to explain what had happened. The excitement in her voice was drowning out the words. Her Russian accent, which was usually so slight you could hardly notice, was getting thicker by the second. She was more interested in telling what had happened than in proper pronunciation.

The officer looked at the window and took his hand off his pistol.

“Driver’s license and registration, please.”

Paige handed them over.

“What happened, sir? Did someone try to shoot you?”

Paige explained what had happened. All he told the cop was that it had been a woman and that he didn’t know who she was or why someone would want to shoot him. Paige suggested that it might be a case of mistaken identity.

If it would have been up to Paige, he wouldn’t have reported it to the police. He just would have called Wellington and let him deal with it. Wellington could have found someone to discreetly replace his shattered window without notifying the police and he could have sent some of his boys to pick up Karshenboym, if they could find her. But it was too late for that. Sveta was with him, and now the police were involved. He had to feign ignorance of the person and motive.

“You’ll have to come to the station with us. We need to write a report.”

Paige followed the first police car to the station, which was only a few blocks away. The second police car followed Paige. It took nearly two hours before they were finished interviewing both of them. Paige wanted to call Wellington to tell him about the incident but decided against it. If either the police or Sveta overheard the conversation it would raise questions he didn’t want to answer. He couldn’t take a chance on calling Wellington from the men’s room. He had to wait. He wondered if his decision to wait would turn out to be a mistake.

Rachel Karshenboym was frustrated that she had failed to kill Paige. It wasn’t like her to screw up such an easy mission. All the people she had whacked for Mossad had been liquidated without any major problems. Maybe if someone else had been doing the driving, she would have been able to concentrate on the job, but she had to do this job alone, since Mossad hadn’t authorized it.

After taking the bridge to the mainland she started thinking about what to do next. She couldn’t go home because Paige had probably recognized her. If there wasn’t someone waiting for her at home, it wouldn’t be long before someone would show up, and it wouldn’t be the local police. She decided to pull into the Aventura Mall and call Sergei. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation but she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

She found a parking space a few hundred feet from the shops and pulled in. She took out her cell phone and called Sergei. He picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, Sergei? This is Rachel.”

“Rachel, I’ve been trying to contact you. We need to talk.”

“Sergei, just listen to what I have to say. I just tried to kill Paige and that little blonde slut of his but I missed. I think he recognized me.”

“What!? Why did you do that? We didn’t authorize a hit. What were you thinking?”

“Paige needs to be eliminated. And so does Steinman. I wanted to get Steinman, too, later this evening, but now I can’t. What should I do?”

Sergei thought for a few seconds.

“I have half a mind to bring you in and turn you over to them. You’ve really caused a lot of problems for us.”

“Yes, I know, and I’m sorry, but I felt strongly that they both needed to go.”

“No they don’t. Steinman’s small potatoes, and Paige is one of them. Do you realize what could happen if we start executing CIA assets?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She was shaking as she held her cell phone.

“Well, it’s too late to do anything about it, but we can work on damage control. You have to get out of the country. Do you have your passport with you?”

“Yes, I always carry it with me.”

“Good. Go to the airport and fly to Tel Aviv. If you can’t get a direct flight, get a connecting flight. Get there as fast as you can. Once you’re in Israel you’ll be safe. But I’ll have to try to clean up your shit.”

“OK, I’ll go there right now. What about my car and the gun?”

“Park it in one of the airport garages. When you get there, call me and tell me where it is. Leave the key under the mat on the driver’s side and leave it unlocked. Leave the parking stub there, too. I’ll have one of my guys pick it up. Put the gun in the trunk, or in the glove compartment, if it’ll fit.”

“OK, I’ll call you.”

“You really fucked up big time, Rachel.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked as she said it. She was near tears.

Sergei called one of his guys and told him to take a taxi to the airport and wait for instructions. Then he called Aaron Gelman, his boss. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation but it couldn’t wait until morning.

Gelman picked up on the second ring. Sergei could hear Gelman’s wife, Shona in the background.

“Aaron, who could be calling you this late?” she shouted from the next room. “Tell them you’ll talk to them in the morning.”

“Shona, I have to take this call.” He walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

“What could be so important you’re calling me at home at this hour? You know Shona doesn’t like me to get calls at night.”

“Yes. I know. I’m sorry, but this couldn’t wait.”

Sergei related what had happened. Gelman wanted to scream at him but couldn’t because Shona would hear.

“OK, we’ll find a way to deal with this. Call our people in Tel Aviv. Tell them to pick her up when she arrives. Tell them what you just told me, so they’ll know what this is all about. They’ll find out anyway. It’s better if they hear it from us first. If Wellington calls you, pretend you don’t know anything about it.”

“OK, will do.”

Gelman hung up. As he walked out of the bedroom, Shona asked, “Who was that?”

“Wrong number.”

Gelman spent the rest of the evening thinking about his options. He was hoping that Paige hadn’t recognized her but he proceeded with the assumption that he had. Luckily, no one had been killed or injured. If someone had, there would have been hell to pay. He was hoping the whole thing would blow over in a few days or weeks, but he knew that hoping wouldn’t change the reality. The next few days would be the worst. Then things would calm down, or so he hoped.

What he didn’t know was that the failed attempt would lead to a response that would make his life much more complicated.

After Paige and Sveta finished their interviews with the police, they were exhausted.

Paige turned to Sveta. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, a little, but I’m not in a mood for Thai food or Hollywood Beach. Let’s just go back home. We can stop at Denny’s.”

Paige thought that was a good idea. He was anxious to call Wellington. Time was precious and he wanted to tell Wellington what had happened before Rachel Karshenboym could get out of the country, since Paige suspected that was what she would do.

It took them less than 10 minutes to arrive at Denny’s. It was past the normal dinner hour and there were lots of available tables. One of the waitresses seated them immediately.

“I’m going to go to the men’s room. I’ll be right back.”

“OK. I’ll be right here.”

Upon entering the men’s room, Paige checked to see if anyone was there. He was alone. He took out his cell phone and called Wellington, telling him what had happened as quickly as he could. He didn’t want anyone to walk in and listen to the conversation.

“Thanks for telling me about this right away instead of waiting until tomorrow morning. Maybe we can catch her before she leaves the country, assuming that’s what she plans to do. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”

Wellington hung up and immediately called one of his contacts at Miami International Airport. He would have preferred calling Santos Hernandez, his TSA contact, but Santos was working the day shift and had already left the airport grounds. Contacting anyone else might raise questions he didn’t want to answer.

“Hello, Sam? This is John Wellington. How are you?”

“Fine, John. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I think a certain person of interest might be flying out of Miami International in the next few hours and I would like you to detain her, if possible…unofficially, of course. We don’t want any paperwork.”

“Ah, I don’t know if I can do that, John. We have to follow protocol, you know. All these new regulations require us to fill out paperwork every time we wipe our ass.”

“Yeah, I know. But this is important and it’s not something that should get on the radar, if you know what I mean. National security.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what you guys always say. Give me some information. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Her name is Rachel Karshenboym. I’ll fax you a photo and some details.”

“Where’s she flying to?”

“Probably Tel Aviv or some other Israeli city, but it’s just a guess.”

“Well, that complicates things a little, because there aren’t any direct flights to Tel Aviv from here. She’ll have to book a connecting flight.”

“Yeah, that does complicate things. Check the international flights. My guess is that she’ll want to get out of the country as soon as possible, so she probably won’t book a flight to Cleveland or Detroit.”

“Are you sure she’s coming to Miami International? She might go to the Fort Lauderdale airport instead.”

“Actually, I’m not sure if she’s going to any airport. I’m just assuming, and I think Miami International would be her first choice, since it has more international flights.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, the Fort Lauderdale airport doesn’t have any direct flights to Tel Aviv, either. She would have to get a connecting flight there, too. Send me the information. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.”

Wellington hung up and looked at his watch. The clock was ticking, and time was not on their side. He called his contact at the Fort Lauderdale airport. The conversation was about the same. About an hour later, Sam called back.

“Hi John. I got the information you wanted. She left for Tel Aviv about a half hour ago. She took British Airways with a stopover in London. Do you want me to contact the people in London to detain her?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thanks, Sam. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, I know. And I won’t forget.”

Getting any more outsiders involved is the last thing Wellington wanted. The whole professor-whacking project was under the radar and he wanted to keep it that way. If someone outside the loop got involved, there would be questions and probably paperwork. He decided to drop his pursuit of Karshenboym. Extradition was out of the question, for at least two reasons. He didn’t want the visibility and Israel doesn’t extradite its own people anyway, with very limited exceptions, and only in high profile cases. The last thing he wanted was for this case to become high profile. He would deal with the situation locally.

By this time, Wellington was both tired and fuming. If the Israelis were willing to whack Paige, what else were they willing to do? What were their plans? He needed to know.

He looked at his watch. It was after 10pm. He called Sergei. He didn’t want to wait until morning.

“Sergei, you fucking son of a bitch.”

Sergei was in the living room of his apartment, with Carla, a young Cuban woman he had picked up at one of the bars in South Beach. Wellington’s call broke the mood.

“John, why all the hostility? We’re allies, remember?”

“Allies don’t go around trying to whack allies.”

“What do you mean? Nobody’s going around whacking anybody.”

Carla perked up when she heard him say that. Wellington was screaming into the phone so loudly that she was able to hear both sides of the conversation. She wondered what she had gotten herself into. Who was this guy, anyway? He had told her he worked in real estate. She decided she should be more careful deciding who to go home with in the future, although the conversation she was hearing did arouse her sexually. She wondered what he would be like in bed. She felt a slight swelling in her crotch.

“Rachel Karshenboym tried to whack Robert Paige earlier this evening. I suppose you don’t know anything about that, do you?”

“No, of course not. We would never authorize anything like that.” He tried his best to sound surprised and sincere. He had been expecting the call.

Sergei became alert to his surroundings. He was standing in front of the couch. Carla was sitting, leaning forward, looking up at him, her eyes practically bulging out of her head, her mouth wide open, listening intently. He decided to move into the bedroom. He closed the door.

“I want to see you and Gelman tomorrow at ten o’clock. You need to explain why you targeted Paige.”