Spy Thriller: An Involuntary Spy: An espionage thriller (Involuntary Spy Espionage Thriller Series Book 1) (15 page)

     “Did you really think you could get away with this?”  Bill wagged the gun at the briefcase, like he was scolding Seth.  “Just give me the reports, Seth.”

     “What reports?”

     Seth’s briefcase was dangling at his left side and his right hand was on the suitcase, which was teetering precariously on the edge of a step.

     “Don’t play dumb with me, Seth.  You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

     “Would you really shoot me, Bill?”

     “Wanna find out?”

     Seth had no time to think to make the next decision, which could be one of life or death.  He wasn’t sure if Bill had the cold bloodedness to kill him, but he certainly had a lot to lose if Seth went public with the reports and desperate men are known to take desperate measures.  When he had contemplated taking these actions, he had never considered that it would get this dangerous.  It was too late to turn back now, because it was his life that was immediately at risk.

     Seth pushed the suitcase as hard as he could at Bill, which tumbled and bumped and struck him, knocking him over.  Seth heard the sound of a gunshot as he turned and ran back up the stairs as fast as he could, through the parking lot, and descended the staircase at the other end of the lot.  He crossed the street to the ticketing area for United Airlines, all the while looking from every direction for Bill or anyone else who could be pursuing him.  Coming after him personally was a desperate measure for Bill.  The good news was that it probably meant that Seth was only being pursued by Germinat and that Bill wanted to keep it quiet, if possible.  That could not last for long.

     Seth approached the United counter.  Thank God there was no line.  He paid for his ticket and headed for security.  Bill would never get through there without a boarding pass and certainly not with a gun.

     In the lounge, Seth sat down, hands still shaking, and put his briefcase on his lap to pull out his laptop so he could schedule his flight to Moscow as soon as possible after arriving to Washington. As he did, he saw it – the bullet had ripped a hole clean through the briefcase.  That was too close.  A shiver went up Seth’s spine.  Seth always knew he was going to die – it is something we all face – but he had never come that close to it before and had never thought about it.  He didn’t even feel like he had lived yet.

     He got out the laptop, powered it up, and booked a corresponding flight to Moscow.  Then he began researching Russian media in his quest to find someone to tell his story to the public.  Of course, most of the media was in the Russian language, and he wanted the coverage to be as broad as possible.  He searched for western correspondents in Russia.  There was the Guardian, which could make a good disclosure vehicle for the documents, except, of course, the classified report, which he intended to hold on to for as long as possible.

     He would telephone the Guardian from Washington, and send them a secure link to download the materials. That, no doubt, would brand Seth with another label in addition to traitor and spy – fugitive.

     Seth hit the ground hard with both feet, and then fell back on his butt.  The fall was painful, and struck a nerve in his tailbone that seemed to ring a bell in his brain.  He scrambled to get up.  Everything appeared to be working; nothing broken.  Standing up, he felt that his feet were in good marching order, and saw that everyone around him was staring, so he slipped away into the crowd of pedestrians on the sidewalk.  He wanted to get as far away from Dave’s building as possible.  Seth checked his pockets for the hard drive and the flash drive with what had been partially downloaded from both computers – everything was there.

     When Seth got home, he quickly powered up his laptop and opened Dave’s hard drive.  Dave had an impressive collection of homemade porn, some video games, and several work files.  The one in particular that interested him was entitled “George Aimers.”

     “Subject George Aimers is a white male, approximately 6 feet tall, 185 pounds, dark brown hair and no facial hair, brown eye color.  Build matches subject Seth Rogan, but cannot confirm match on other physical characteristics.  Further investigation required.”

  
  It was clear to Seth that he was the subject of an investigation, but unclear what that investigation was all about.  Was it to capture Seth Rogan?  Eliminate him?  Surely if Dave had confirmed any of his suspicions about who Seth was, he would have done that already.

     “
Subject Aimers claims to be Canadian from Vancouver.  Highly knowledgeable about the area.  Cover identity stands up.  Valid passport, but no Internet history.”

 
  Seth skimmed further through Dave’s reports.  The latest was dated just last week, after Dave’s disastrous drunken night.

    “
Attempt to obtain fingerprint data unsuccessful.  Will continue to attempt confirmation that Subject Aimers is cover identity for Subject Rogan.”

    
Dave certainly wasn’t making any effort to obtain Seth’s fingerprints the night they went out together.  He found no clue in the 75% of Dave’s hard drive that he was able to capture as to what Dave’s orders were or what his mission was.  Nowhere in Dave’s files did he identify his real name or the fact that he was an FBI agent.  Next, he fired up the flash drive to examine the contents of Julia’s hard drive.  There were folders with miscellaneous pictures (no porn like Dave’s), and, surprisingly, a folder on Seth Rogan and one on George Aimers.  This confirmed what Seth had suspected from the discovery that Dave and Julia were either not married, swingers, or the unhappiest married couple in the world.  Julia was FBI as well.

     Julia was, apparently, also a computer expert.   
Great,
thought Seth. 
She’ll probably pick up the spyware right away and will know they are under surveillance themselves. 
She had folders on Seth Rogan, detailing all of his disclosures to the press, as well as his movements into and around Moscow.  She had folders on George Aimers, which contained investigative reports on Aimers from various comprehensive Internet databases she had accessed and studied.

     In contrast to Dave’s reports, Julia was relatively certain that George Aimers and Seth Rogan were one and the same.

     “
Subject Aimers has an American accent and, despite his attempt to disguise himself, matches the description of Seth Rogan.” 

    
Leave it to a woman to notice all of the little details that men often ignore. 
Request made to execute directive. 
What directive?  Was Seth to be assassinated?  Arrested?  Nothing in the materials he obtained from either computer shed any light on that ultimate question.

     Wise men throughout history are quoted for the wisdom in making friends with your enemies.  Accordingly, Seth was already on that path.  Natasha and Seth invited Julia and Dave over for a home cooked meal and they gladly accepted.  In the meantime, Yuri was using the impression key borrowed from Seth to search their apartment and plant sophisticated surveillance equipment.  Of course, Seth didn’t confide in Yuri that he had already been in the apartment; only that he had made the key.  Hopefully Yuri would be forthcoming if he uncovered any new information.

     Dinner was pleasant and Julia and Dave proved to be good company, enforcing the notion that your worst enemy could also be your best friend.  The converse had already been proven to Seth during his teenage years.

     “We’re going to the south of France this summer,” said Julia.

     “You two should go with us,” said Dave.

     “Sounds interesting,” responded Seth.

     “Have you ever been?” asked Dave.

     “No.”

     To that Natasha looked at Seth strangely.  She had heard all of Seth’s stories about the south of France and how it was one of his most favorite places, and wondered why he saw the need to lie to them.

     “All the more reason to go,” said Dave.  “I hear the parties in St. Tropez are pretty intense.”

     “Wouldn’t know about that,” said Seth.

     “Do you speak French?” asked Natasha.

     “Mais, oui,” said Dave.  “Vous parlez français?”

     “Me? No. ” Natasha laughed.  “But George does.”

     “Vraiment, George?”

     “Well, ya know, I am from Canada.”

     “You guys really have to come.  France is the most romantic country in the world,” said Julia.

     As the night went on, Seth wondered about Yuri’s progress.  He figured he must be done by now.  But this was a high stakes game in which nobody could be trusted, and, even though Seth trusted Yuri out of necessity and he was a great guy, he still was not sure if he would share all of his discoveries with him.

     “What did you find out?”

     “They are spying on you, Seth.  They can’t be trusted,” said Yuri.

     “But what do they want?”

    “Whatever you have against the government.  That’s what they want.  You should give it to me, for safekeeping.”

     Seth trusted Yuri, but what if he was captured, tortured?  Would he give his life to protect Seth’s secret?  The only one who could really make that leap of faith was Seth, and only in himself.

     “I can’t give it to anyone Yuri.  It’s the only thing keeping me alive.  I trust you, but in anyone’s hands but my own, it’s worthless.”

     “Just don’t have hands on it when they come for it.  They have no problem chopping off hand to get report.”

     “Did you find out what they have been authorized to do?”

     “Only that they need to get report from you.  Better reason to give to me so nobody can get it. Without that report, you are dead man.”

     “Exactly.  And what if they kill you?  Once they get the report, there will be no reason to keep me alive.”

     Seth hoped that Yuri was not offended.  If he was, he didn’t show it.  Yuri had been the only constant in this entire ordeal, except, of course, for Natasha, but she was not really involved in this story; only the hope of happiness that waited beyond the end of it.

     After Yuri left, Seth began thinking of a new hiding place for his contraband.  Carrying everything around in a briefcase, even if he kept duplicates elsewhere, was not going to insure his safety.  His apartment would be searched.  He would be searched.  Eventually they would find the report and his life insurance policy will have expired.  There had to be a place that was safe.  He trudged all over the apartment, looking in every nook and cranny for a possible hiding place.  Unfortunately, too many of them were cliché and he had already had experience with his apartment being ransacked.  

     Eventually, he settled on taking the cover off the electrical outlet.  He unplugged the lamp and took off the cover.  There was just enough space there in the wall to the side of the electrical outlet to hide the report if he rolled it up, and the corresponding disk as well.  He rolled the report, tucked the valuables in the spot, screwed the cover back on, and plugged the lamp back in.  The rest was up to fate.

     Seth was restless in anticipation of his dinner date with Natasha.  With all the “covert operations” that had been going on, they had hardly had any time together.  The taxi dispatcher called and told Seth the taxi he ordered was a white taxi, with the numbers 234.  Seth’s Russian was good enough at this point to order a taxi and get around the town without feeling like a complete fool.  He looked at the window and saw the taxi waiting, so he quickly put on his boots, coat and hat and went out.

     Seth opened the door and was surprised to find a man in the back seat and one in the front passenger seat, both dressed in suits, and both looked very American.

     “Sorry, I thought this was my taxi,” he said to the driver in Russian.

     “It is your taxi, get in,” said the man in the back seat, in perfect English with an American accent.  He had cold steel-gray eyes and looked very serious.

     “We just want to talk to you,” he said.

     Seth’s followed his first instinct, which was to turn and run back into the apartment, and, as he did, another suited man stood face-to-face with him and said, “Get in the car please.”  Seth reluctantly sat down in between the two men in the back.  The gray eyed man did all the talking.

     “We will drop you off at your destination.  We just need to talk,” said Gray Eyes.

     The taxi slowly pulled away.

     “What would you like to talk about?”

     “We know who you are,” said the man.

     “That puts me at somewhat of a disadvantage because I don’t know who you are,” said Seth.

     “You don’t need to know who we are, only what we can offer you.”

     “And what would that be?”

     “Safe passage back to the United States, and the guarantee of a fair deal,” said Gray Eyes.

     “And why should I trust you?”

     “Who do you think you should trust, Dave Salisbury?”

     “What about him?”

     “We know he’s FBI.  You’re really better off with us.”

     “Why is that?”

     “Because we can keep you alive.  That is your primary concern, is it not?”

     “And what is it that you want?”

     “You know what we want.”

     “Well, maybe I do and maybe I don’t.  Why don’t you humor me by spelling it out?”

     “The classified report.”

     “You’re assuming I have this report….”  Gray Eyes interrupted Seth.

     “We know you have it,” he said.

     “I don’t know how you came about that information, because presently I do not have it, but, if I did, since I don’t know who you are, how would I feel comfortable giving it to you?”

     “We represent the United States Government,” said Gray Eyes.

     “So does Dave Salisbury,” said Seth.

     “Yes, but he is operating outside the scope of his authority.”

     Seth didn’t know why Salisbury was dogging him, but he needed some kind of leverage.

     “What makes you think that your deal is any better than the deal that Salisbury offered me?”

     “He didn’t offer you any deal,” said Gray Eyes.

     “Oh, but he did.”  That raised Gray Eyes’s eyebrows.

     “But he can’t guarantee your safety.  Only we can.”

     “How do you know that, since I don’t even know you work for the government?  You haven’t even shown me any ID.”

     “Salisbury didn’t give you any, either.”

     “On the contrary, he presented me with his FBI identification,” said Seth.

     “What are you talking about?  You don’t even know his real name.”

     “Brian Jenkins,” said Seth.

     This surprised all three G-Men, and Gray Eyes seemed a little taken aback, like he had just taken a bite of a hot chili pepper.

     “Then are we to assume that you have accepted his offer?”

     “I haven’t decided.  What makes you think that your offer would be more palatable to me?”

     “Mr. Jenkins cannot keep you safe,” said Gray Eyes.  “Listen carefully, because we are not going to negotiate this.  Get the report, and all copies of it, and meet us in the lobby of the Parus Hotel tomorrow at 8 p.m.  Come alone.”

     “And if I don’t show up?

     “The consequences of non-compliance will be met with strict enforcement action.  You do know about shock and awe, don’t you?”

     Seth was all too familiar with the trigger happy antics of the current government, and the consequences did not require any further explanation.

     The taxi pulled up to the restaurant and stopped.  The man next to Seth got out and Seth exited after him.  As quickly as they had appeared, they were gone.