Covert Assassin Page 21

  Justin nodded. “My name is—”

  Gunfire bursts came from behind him.

  The girl cried out.

  Justin did not look back. Marco was covering that direction. Still, Justin said, “You good?”

  “Yes, but we’ve got company.”

  “I hate nosy guests.”

  “Me too.”

  Justin’s fingers tightened around the pistol’s handle as he neared the corner. As he expected, a gunman was standing near their silver Peugeot sedan. The team should have had a third person in charge of their exit, who would have brought the car to the back entrance. But this snatch-and-grab operation was unauthorized. Justin could count only on himself and Marco, his old friend from the Agenzia Informazioni e Sicurezza Esterna, or AISE, the Italian foreign intelligence agency.

  Justin stepped close to the wall before the gunman could see them. Justin’s left hand brought Alina closer to his chest. “Cover your ears.”

  “Why?”

  “There will be some loud noises. Cover them now.”

  Alina nodded and brought her small hands to her head.

  Justin raised his pistol and rounded the corner.

  The gunman saw them and raised his rifle.

  “Don’t do it,” Justin said.

  The gunman’s rifle turned toward Justin.

  He double-tapped his pistol.

  Alina let out a shriek.

  The gunman fell against the Peugeot, bleeding from his chest.

  “Justin...”

  He thought he heard Marco’s voice, but the earpiece was dangling around Justin’s neck, so he could not be sure. But the throat mic was still in place, so Justin said, “Almost at the car, Marco.”

  He held Alina’s head down and close to his chest, so she would not see the bleeding gunman. She had already seen more bloodshed in one day than most children saw in their entire life. Justin placed her gently into the backseat and buckled her seatbelt. “Stay there, okay?”

  Alina nodded. “Okay.”

  Justin looked at the corner.

  Marco had just come around it half-dragging and half-carrying the wounded man, the senior jihadist leader who was the target of the operation. He would know where Karolin had been taken, and if he did not, he would be able to find that information. If he refused, Justin was prepared to extract that information out of him, by any means necessary.

  Justin raised his pistol and kept it aimed at the corner, in case any gunman came from that direction, as Marco and the wounded leader reached the car. Marco noticed Alina in the backseat, so he shoved the leader into the front passenger seat. His hands were tied behind his back, and there was a black hood over his head.

  Justin cast a last glance at the corner, then slipped into the car next to Alina and behind the jihadist. “Hit it,” Justin said to Marco who had already climbed behind the steering wheel.

  As he stepped on the gas, the rear window erupted in a geyser of glass.

  Justin leaned over Alina to protect her from the sharp pieces.

  She glanced at him with her frightened eyes and began to sob quietly.

  Justin said, “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you.”

  Alina nodded slowly but did not stop sobbing.

  Justin placed his head over hers and brought her closer to him.

  Alina rested her head against Justin’s chest and became quiet.

  Marco eased up on the gas pedal as they came to an intersection, then took a sharp right turn. The rear wheel climbed over the edge of the sidewalk, then dropped back onto the potholed road.

  Justin glanced through the window for a long moment. No gunmen or vehicles were coming in pursuit. “I don’t see them.

  Marco nodded. “Yes, but let’s make sure we’ve lost them.”

  He took the first left turn, then another right, and drove for two more blocks, before repeating the same maneuver. They were on Rue des Palmiers, east of Las Vegas Beach on the Mediterranean Sea and heading north, toward their safehouse. Justin and Marco had booked a room in the small Hannibal Inn, named after the well-known ancient Carthaginian leader who sowed fear in the hearts of so many Romans. Carthage, Hannibal’s birthplace, was less than a hundred miles north of Sousse.

  Justin looked behind him. He was not expecting anyone to have followed them, but he wanted to make absolutely sure before they came close to the inn. After a long moment of observation, he said, “We’re clear now.”

  “Good.” Marco nodded.

  “Are all the bad people gone?” Alina asked without looking up.

  Justin brushed her brown curly hair and looked at the jihadi fighter in the front seat. “No one is going to hurt you. I won’t let them,” he said in a warm tone to Alina and kept brushing her hair.

  I wish I could do the same for Karolin. He sighed. Hold on, honey, I’m coming to get you.

  Chapter Two

  Hannibal Inn

  Sousse, Tunisia

  Marco parked in a back alley, behind a mosque, three blocks away from the inn. He shifted in his seat to face Justin. “You and the girl go through the main entrance, while I bring him around. Buy me time, so we can slip in through the back door.”

  Justin nodded. The low-budget inn still had a clerk on-duty around the clock, but no security cameras, which was why Justin and Marco had chosen this particular establishment. Discretion was much more valuable in the activities of a covert operative than comfort or amenities. “Sure, we’ll do that. But let’s switch places.”

  “Why?”

  “I have an idea about how to distract the clerk. The broken window.”

  Marco nodded. “I like that. He’ll have to come out.”

  “Exactly.”

  When Justin got behind the wheel, they drove for another block, then stopped to allow Marco and the captured jihadist to get out of the vehicle. Then he rounded the last two turns and parked outside the inn’s front door. He turned to Alina and said, “All right, we’ll go inside for a little bit.”

  “Is Mommy coming there?”

  “Eh ... no, but I’ll be with you. And you’ll be okay. I’ll get you some ice cream. You like ice cream?”

  Alina gave Justin a look as if that was so obvious he need not ask.

  “What flavor?” he asked.

  “Chocolate, what else?”

  “Chocolate is my favorite too. Now, when I talk to the clerk, I need you to wait for me at the couches, just inside the door. Just wait there quietly. Can you do that?”

  “And then we’ll get the ice cream?”

  “You got it.”

  Alina nodded and her face formed a small smile. “But I want two scoops.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.”

  She gave him a surprised look.

  Justin shook his head. “Two it is. Now, let’s go.”

  When they entered the small lobby, Justin led Alina to the couches. She sat on one of them and gazed at the television screen mounted on the wall, which was playing some kind of talk show. “Stay here, okay?”

  “All right.”

  Justin approached the reception and nodded at the sleepy-eyed clerk. “How’s it going?”

  The clerk stifled a yawn, then looked up from his book. “A long night.”

  “It is. Do you mind switching that to some kid show for my niece?”

  “At this hour?”

  “There must be some cartoon reruns. I don’t want her to see something inappropriate.”

  The clerk nodded. He found the remote in one of the drawers and pressed a couple of buttons. The screen changed to a cartoon show featuring a yellow sponge and a pink starfish. Alina smiled and clapped her hands.

  “Thanks,” Justin said to the clerk. “She likes it.”

  The clerk nodded. “Anything else?” His voice carried a tone of impatience, and he looked at his book.

  “Yes, somebody broke my car’s rear window.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Not too long ago. Come and have a look.” Justin gestured toward the
door and took a step toward it.

  The clerk reluctantly stood up. “I’ll call someone. Were you parked here?”

  Justin did not reply, but kept walking toward the door.

  The clerk followed him.

  When they reached the silver Peugeot, Justin showed the damage to the clerk. He shook his head and argued that this was not their responsibility. Justin told him he had no problem paying for someone to replace it, but it would have to be early that morning. The clerk said that he could find someone, but it would be difficult and expensive at such short notice. Then Justin and the clerk began to haggle over the price of a new piece of rear window glass, and how it had to come from another Peugeot, so it would fit perfectly, and it had to be without any cracks, and so on.

  When five minutes had passed, Justin felt there had been sufficient time for Marco to make his entrance. So Justin shook hands with the clerk and agreed to the repairman’s coming first thing in the morning. No time was established, so “first thing” could mean anything. It did not matter. Justin was planning to be long gone, before sunrise, especially if his plan worked.

  Inside the lobby, Justin walked to the ice cream freezer opposite the reception desk. He picked up three Magnum double chocolate hazelnut sticks, then walked to Alina. “They don’t have the scoopy kind.” He offered her one of the sticks.

  “These are fine.” Alina reached and took two of them.

  Justin smiled at her, while she ripped the wrapping paper off the first one and took a small bite. He said, “Now, we need to go upstairs for a moment.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to talk to my friend. It will only take a moment.”

  “Then we’ll go find Mommy?”

  “Eh ... we’ll ask my friend about that.”

  “Okay.”

  Justin paid the clerk for the ice creams and gave him a small tip for the help with the car. Justin then took Alina and walked to the room near the end of the second floor, by the exit staircase. Justin knocked the established signal: two short knocks, followed by a long one, and Marco opened the door. “Hey, you took your time...”

  “Wasn’t sure how long you needed.”

  “I got ice cream.” Alina said and walked inside the spacious room.

  “You did? And where is my ice cream!?” Marco walked behind her.

  Justin closed the door. “Here, I got you one.”

  Marco shrugged. “No, I’m all right. I was just saying...”

  “You’re sure? It’s chocolate.”

  “I should stay away from sugars.”

  “Suit yourself.” Justin tore open the package and took a bite. Then he looked at Alina, who was standing by the window. “Where is he?”

  “Locked in the bathroom. You’re ready to proceed?”

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  “And what if he doesn’t know anything?”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Marco held Justin’s arm. “No, if he really doesn’t know about Karolin.”

  Justin’s eyes burned in a menacing glare at the mention of her name. “His life for hers. A fair trade.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “If he doesn’t know, he can find out. He’s not the leader for nothing.”

  “One of the leaders.”

  “Yes, but very high up. He’ll talk, or he’ll be in a lot of pain and talk.”

  Marco nodded. “You know what you’re doing.”

  “Right. Do you mind looking after Alina for a little bit?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Not sure. It will depend on how tough he thinks he is. Sooner or later, everybody breaks. I hope for everyone’s sake that it is sooner, rather than later.”

  Chapter Three

  Hannibal Inn

  Sousse, Tunisia

  Soon after Marco and Alina left the room, Justin walked into the bathroom.

  The detainee began to mumble and writhe as soon as he heard the sound of Justin’s steps. Marco had tied the detainee’s hands to the bathroom sink drain, and a black hood was still over his head. Justin crouched closer to the jihadist and gently removed the hood.

  The man gave Justin a defiant gaze and shook his head. He shouted something, but the face cloth stuffed in his mouth made his words indistinct. “I’m going to uncuff you now, remove the towel, and we’ll go into the room,” Justin said. “No screaming, not even a sound, or I’ll bring you back here. You got it?”

  The man nodded.

  “Good.”

  Justin lifted the man to his feet and slowly brought him into the room. He sat him down next to the wall, where the carpet had been folded back, so that the detainee would not stain it with his blood. Then Justin handed the detainee a plastic water bottle. He brought it slowly to his mouth with his right hand, while the arm trembled. He had injured it during a scuffle with Marco as the Italian agent dragged the detainee out of the safehouse. He drank almost half of it in one long gulp, then looked at his wounded leg. Marco had already wrapped it in bandages to stop the bleeding.

  “We’ll get you a doctor, as soon as we’re done here,” Justin said. “I just have a few questions.”

  The detainee locked eyes with Justin. “You think because you gave me some water I will betray my cause of true jihad?”

  Justin shook his head. “I’ll let you make that decision. You’re a smart man, Taha Khazri. You can understand the severity of your situation. You’ve been in this position before, right?”

  Khazri did not reply right away. His small dark eyes studied Justin’s face for a long moment. “No, I’ve never been captured before.”

  “Right, but you’ve interrogated prisoners, foreign fighters?”

  “Yes, infidels who came to kill our children and rape our women...”

  Justin found it pointless to correct Khazri. “And they told you what you wanted to know, right?”

  Khazri’s bloodied lips formed a small smile. “Yes, each and every one of them.”

  Justin nodded. “So we agree, then. Torture works.”

  Khazri’s smile froze as he realized his mistake. He shook his head and said, “You’re wasting your time if you think I will tell you anything.”

  Justin leaned closer to Khazri. “Here’s the thing about torture: everyone breaks, everyone. Some people take longer, days. For others, it’s a matter of minutes. It’s all in the process, what some call the art of torture.” He cocked his head toward a black duffel bag near the opposite corner of the room. “Do you want to know what’s in there?”

  Khazri unlocked his jaw to say only, “Your threats don’t scare me.” The intimidating glare remained in his deep-set eyes.

  “I’m not trying to scare you but convince you to work with me. See, I hate doing this as much as you do ... But it’s the cost of inaction ... People that work for you or are connected to you have kidnapped the love of my life. Now, if that happened to your wife or your daughter, what would you do to get her back?”

  Khazri did not reply. His eyes lost some of the menace, and Justin thought he noticed a glint of unease.

  A brief, tense pause hung in the air.

  Justin’s gaze never left Khazri’s face. The Tunisian had a blank emotionless look.

  Justin shrugged. “I disagree with torture, not on the principle, but on the practice. Most times, people are brought in, beaten up, forced to confess and sign anything shoved in their face. Your case is different, though. From other, credible sources, I know for certain that you are related to her kidnapping. And you just told me you’re unwilling to work with me, because you’re not afraid, and you’re not going to betray your cause. Did I understand that correctly?”

  Khazri remained silent. He dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment, then shrugged. His eyes flitted back and forth, and it seemed like he wanted to say something. Then, he shook his head. “Go ahead. Torture me. I will not say a word.”


  Justin frowned and returned the headshake. “Wrong answer, Khazri. You’re putting yourself through so much pain ... And for what? That woman means nothing to you, but she means the world to me.”

  “She came to my country as an enemy, and she will pay for what she has done.” Khazri spat out his words.

  Justin barely stopped himself from punching the daylights out of Khazri. The Canadian agent drew in a deep breath, then stood up and walked toward the duffel bag. He unzipped it slowly without saying a word and pulled out a regular-sized claw hammer and a box of four-inch-long framing nails. He placed them on the carpet, then took a large plastic tarp out of the bag and set it on the floor along the farthest wall from the window and the door. He picked up the hammer and a handful of nails and walked back to Khazri. “It’s time you pay for what you’ve done.”

  Khazri opened his mouth to shout, but Justin silenced him with his strong hand. Khazri tried to push Justin’s hand away, but the jihadist’s arms were weak. Justin easily overpowered him, then pulled the face cloth from his back pocket. He stuffed Khazri’s mouth, as he kept struggling. Justin handcuffed the jihadist’s hands in the front and dragged him to the plastic tarp. “I’m not going to blindfold you, because I want you to see as well as feel the pain.”

  Khazri shook his head, but his face showed no other sign of terror.

  Justin thought, That’s going to change pretty soon.

  He lifted Khazri up and set him in a sitting position against the wall. Justin waved the hammer in front of Khazri, then dragged the forked side along the right side of Khazri’s face. “This is brand new. Just got it last night. Can’t wait to try it.”

  Khazri mumbled something indistinct.

  Justin said, “It’s designed to extract nails, but it will work.” He shrugged and said, “You know much about history, Khazri?”

  Khazri returned a headshake.

  “No? That’s good, so maybe you’ll learn a thing or two. I’m a history buff, especially of the ancient times. Carthage, Rome, that sort of thing. So Carthage, well, Tunisia nowadays, your home country, was the place that invented crucifixion. You know what that is, right?”

  Khazri tried to move his arms and body.