Never again jack whitfie.., p.19
NEVER AGAIN (Jack Whitfield Thrillers Book 4), page 19
I heard a hiccup, then a quick burp. Magdalena and I both turned around. Ewa was red-faced from laughter. Stefan was red-faced from embarrassment.
“What the hell was that?” I teased.
He quickly recovered. “Just the way I am made, Jack.”
“I like the way you are made.” Ewa leaned over and ran her hand along his face. They stared into each other’s eyes like star-crossed lovers.
“Sparks are flying.” Magdalena popped her eyebrows, and we turned to stare outside once again. “I sent a text for Filip to call me. He might be sleeping, like most of the people in the country.”
“Except for all the people trying to hunt us down. Police, ABW, multiple assassins. The list is endless.”
She patted my arm. “I am happy you are still alive.”
“Hey, we all get credit for that win. We’re damn lucky.”
“But you have suffered like no one else. God only knows how many times you have narrowly escaped death.”
“I try not to count.”
She giggled. I didn’t.
“You are not joking.”
“I only try to focus my thoughts on things I can change. The future.” I took a sip of water. “I’ve been running through our interrogation of Bartek.”
“His head. It just...” She paused a moment. “He is connected to Simon, yes?”
“Apparently.”
“He never gave us names.”
“But we learned two things. The leader of Simon is a woman. And the SEC is looking into them.”
“SEC?”
“Bartek said, ‘The SEC has tools to uncover anything.’ It must mean that Simon, which I believe is really just a front for a company called TSG, is under an SEC investigation. The Securities Exchange Commission in the US. That’s my theory. But I want to get my PI friend back in the States to look into it.”
She handed me her phone and then went over to check on Ewa. Booker answered on the second ring. He’d just left Burnet, Texas, and was headed back to Dallas. His PI buddy, Ozzie, was taking this two-day shift to watch over Maddie and Aunt Zeta.
“You any closer to finding the bastards who ruined your life?” Booker asked.
“You get right to it, don’t you?”
“Kinda how I’m wired.”
I gave him a succinct overview of where things stood, focusing on the interrogation of Bartek Krol. “Do you have any contacts in the federal government, preferably the financial sector?”
“You want to know more about this SEC investigation into Simon...well, TSG?”
“Every detail. While you’re at it, I want to know about every key leader at TSG.”
“Makes sense. The second part I can do, along with my better half, Alyssa. She’s the queen of research.”
It was the SEC component that was more urgent. “So, we’re SOL on the SEC?”
He chuckled. “Let me reach out to Oz. He’s got connections where I don’t. All sorts of government agencies that use acronyms. He’s a former lawyer.”
“I guess I won’t hold that against him.”
“But he’s a PI now, shares an agency with a former FBI agent. I met her once. That is one bad woman.”
“Bad as in good.”
“Bad as in badass.”
I turned around. Magdalena had one arm around Ewa, and they were laughing at something Stefan had just said. “Yeah, I know the type.”
Booker asked if I had a path out of Poland.
“Not yet. Working on it.”
“I don’t have any contacts in Poland or in that region in general. But Ozzie might. That cat knows people in almost every field.”
Didn’t sound like a slam dunk, so I told him I’d keep Ozzie in mind in case every other door shut, the main one being Filip. “By the way, I’m going to be joined by two friends.”
“You made friends, and you want to bring them to the US?”
“That’s the idea, yes. So, I need some type of State Department approval.”
“Can’t you just Zoom with these two friends? Or go old-school and write letters?”
“Not possible. They can’t be in Poland.”
“Some crazy-ass shit going on over there.”
“And we’re in the middle of it.”
Booker said he’d reach out to Ozzie about the SEC investigation angle and how to get my two friends into the US while he was driving back to Dallas. He’d also ask Alyssa to jump on the TSG research the moment he walked in the door.
“But it will be close to midnight. You have a little girl. Does Ozzie have kids?”
“Man, I’m not sure you understand how much your story about what went down with your wife and your child has rocked us. We both have kids, families, so it really hit us. Gotta find the bastards who did this to you...and are now trying to kill you.”
“Thanks for the urgency, Booker.”
“We got your back, man. That’s all you need to know. I’ll be in touch.”
And that was all I needed to hear.
50
After hugs all around, Magdalena and I left in her car during morning rush hour to meet up with Filip for a strategy session on possible routes out of Poland. Noting it was only a meeting and not the actual go-time, Stefan insisted on staying with Ewa to ensure she was safe and cared for. He was giving us subtle signals that he might want to stay in Poland to be with Ewa. Magdalena and I both knew that wasn’t possible without him eventually being arrested and thrown into jail for the rest of his life. If he was lucky. Deep down, he knew it too.
“Filip just texted me.” Magdalena read the message to herself, her lips moving but with no sound.
“Any issues?”
“Not really. In fact, I think it gives me an opportunity to solve an issue before it becomes one.”
I could feel one of my eyebrows lift. “You’re speaking in tongues.”
“Look out!”
I hit the brake. Our sedan rocked to a stop about two inches behind a city bus. “You about gave me a heart attack, but thanks,” I said, breathless from the adrenaline rush. “If I’d hit a city bus, police would arrive on the scene. And then...”
“I know.”
Once traffic started moving again, Magdalena directed me to make my way to the left lane. “We are changing the meetup with Filip to my apartment above the coffeehouse.”
The light turned red before I could execute the turn. I was able to look at Magdalena without fear of hitting another vehicle. “Your apartment? The ABW knows about it.”
“Filip believes that since the coffeehouse and apartment have already been searched by the ABW, that location is no longer being watched. It’s such an obvious place to hide; we would never go back there.”
I strummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “I can see that logic. Why the change in our meetup location, though?”
“Oh, I did not tell you that part? I am such a blonde.”
“You are blonde, yes. But if you’re trying to suggest you’re a dingbat, you can’t convince me. Not possible.”
She smiled. “Filip said his girlfriend’s parents are coming into town to stay for a while. Apparently, they live within twenty kilometers on this side of the border from Grodno, Belarus, where the missile exploded. More and more people are migrating out of that region. They’re scared of a larger conflict.”
The real-world impact of the act of terrorism. Stefan was the known trigger man, even if he hadn’t realized it until the eleventh hour. I’d been a part of this effort as well, working my source, Wiktoria, to try to influence the prime minister. My task actually seemed pseudo-legal. How business had always been done. Make friends with the right people and lay out a convincing case to purchase your product. But the pieces of a new theory had started to come together in my mind. I wondered if Simon had also put in motion other plans to ensure this SS4.1 software patch reached its intended server. Possibly via another agent. Someone who could run a similar, parallel operation in another country.
“Look, I don’t know if Bartek Krol is the only official within the Polish government tied to Simon.” I passed a car spewing exhaust, coughed twice, and then continued. “But staying in Poland longer to investigate that possibility will only put our lives at risk. And it may not have a real payoff.”
“So we tell Filip we are ready to leave as soon as he can arrange it?”
I nodded. “And you’re ready to leave everything behind?”
“I will be. That’s the one issue I want to resolve—a conversation with Mary. She will be devastated I am leaving. Even more so that I will never return.”
We drove less than a kilometer before traffic became clogged once again. Drivers began to roll down their windows, shout, and hold up fists.
“I heard your conversation with your friend in the States,” Magdalena said.
“Yeah, Booker. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Saved my daughter’s life. I owe him a lot. Not sure how I’ll ever pay him back.” I explained how we’d never actually met and his connection to Aunt Zeta.
“You have a strong support system, Jack.”
“For the longest time, I kept thinking about everything I had lost.”
“Your wife.”
I nodded. “Maddie was also abducted. Part of the Simon plan to squeeze me from all sides to ensure I would be loyal to their cause. My entire life was taken from me.”
“And now?”
“I’m grateful for the many people who have shown me support. For the friendships I’ve made along this treacherous journey.”
We traded winks.
“Perhaps something good has come from all this,” she said.
I still wasn’t sure how I’d pull off getting her and Stefan into the country. But I had to try. Hopefully, Ozzie and Booker could come up with a plan.
Someone honked from behind me. Traffic opened up, and we made good time all the way to the coffeehouse and parked in the alley. The sweet aroma of coffee ignited my hunger pangs. “Hey, do you think we can get one of your famous coffees to go?”
“More than that. I am sure Mary has made fresh pastries this morning. The best in all of Europe, I tell you. We will empty out the case, bring some to Filip. Those are his favorite.”
“Nice. A food currency. That might be the only way we can thank him for helping us escape this country.”
As I opened the car door, a man smoking a cigarette by the back door of an art gallery stared at me for two seconds.
One second too long for me not to notice.
“We need to get out of here.” I closed my door and started up the car.
“What is going on, Jack?”
“That man. He’s ABW.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s talking into his shoulder. And there’s no one else in the alley. Must have a hidden mic.” I backed out of the space and drove toward the end of the alley in quick order.
At the cross street, Emilii Plater, the shadow of Google Warsaw was on top of us. Traffic was moving at a decent clip, but the road was stacked with cars and trucks of all types. In my rearview, the man was walking toward us, still talking into his shoulder.
A siren snagged my attention, and in that direction, a police car was weaving through the traffic.
“They found us, Jack. Somehow they found us. How do we get out of here?”
I considered throwing the gear into reverse and motoring to the other end of the alley. If I mowed over the agent, so be it. But that would take time. Even worse, the agent probably was carrying. And then we’d be trapped in the alley.
I pushed the nose of the car onto Emilii Plater. Magdalena punched her window down and played traffic cop. “Zatrzymać!” Stop! She held up her hand outside the window.
Two cars passed, but the third paused. A small opening, and I took it. We were in the flow of traffic but moving slowly. A check of my rearview. The cop was gaining ground. My gut told me more agents were in the area.
“Jack, they are closing in on us. We may not have a way out.” She cursed in Polish.
My eyes searched for an escape. Beyond a row of buildings off to my right, a green roof.
“The Catholic church. Get out of the car and run around the corner. You’ll be out of their view for a few seconds. Run into the church and stay there until I can come back for you.”
“I am not leaving again, Jack. No way.”
“Magdalena, it’s only for a little bit of time. I don’t want you to be arrested.”
She pointed at me. “See, you think you will be arrested. I will not leave you alone. I am with you to the end.”
Was this the end? I couldn’t think that way. I had too much to lose—my little girl in Texas. My eyes searched for a path through the labyrinth. Obstructions in every direction.
Except one.
But I was boxed in, cars only inches from the front and rear bumpers. In my mirrors, more agents appeared on foot, running toward us. A second police car was moving in from the street that dissected Emilii Plater.
“They are like cockroaches, Jack. They multiply. They carry disease.” She pounded the armrest, her crimped voice full of emotion. “Jack, if they arrest us, do not fight back. I will demand to speak to Filip. He knows people. He will make them understand that what you have done is not a real crime. That you are a good person. They will allow us to leave the jail. And then we can go to America with no worries about who is watching us.”
Magdalena’s loyalty and fervent yearning for a brighter future was heartwarming. It was also unquestionably naïve.
I threw the gear into reverse and pressed the gas. We hit the front bumper of the car behind us.
“What are you doing, Jack?”
I kept my foot on the gas until we’d cleared out three feet of room in front of us. I shifted into drive, turned the wheel hard left, smashing the left taillight of the car in front us, then hopped the curb onto the sidewalk.
Magdalena yelled out in excitement. I narrowly dodged a fire hydrant, then punched it. We roared up the sidewalk, people flying out of the way. I rammed into a metal sign, but we never cleared it. We were stuck on top of the bent metal.
“Come on, Jack. Rock it back, then forward.”
I did just as she said. The car came loose, and we shot off the sign. A woman dropped her groceries and dove into an open doorway. Two kids ran down some steps. A half block later, a couple jumped over the wall that led to the subway.
Daylight to my right. I whipped the car back onto the road and gunned it through slower traffic. A quick check of my rearview. Countless red and blue lights flashing. The roaches had multiplied again.
A blur from the side.
A motorcycle fishtailed onto the road, then righted itself, heading straight for us.
Katniss had come back to life.
51
Within seconds, we came upon a large truck cleaning the road. It moved no faster than a pedestrian. A huge impediment. Even worse, the truck’s spray made the road slick. I spotted a side street fifty feet in front of us.
“Come on, come on, come on!”
I waited till the last second, then cut the car right, swerving my way onto the crossroad. I avoided a woman pushing a stroller and accelerated. “Katniss still behind us?”
“Nothing yet.” Magdalena slammed her hand onto the seat. “There she is! This woman does not give up.”
“Any cops behind her?”
“Not so far. How in the world did she survive that crash near the Krol estate?”
“Motivation.”
“What kind?”
“Money is where I always start. Could be country loyalty.”
“A demented loyalty.”
My mind replayed the cackle Katniss had released in the woods when she was hunting Stefan and me. “Demented might be an understatement.”
“Turn here!”
I did, and this street was even narrower than the last. Not many moving cars, but quite a few lining the street. Plus kids playing along the sidewalks. I had to keep my eyes on the road. “Did she follow us?”
“Yep. But I expected that. Just past this school, go left.”
“But she’ll continue to make up ground. She’ll catch us.”
“Just do it.”
I whipped the car left, taking my foot off the gas for only a quick second.
“Take the next right.”
Just before I executed the turn, Katniss had made her way onto the street.
“Now what?” I realized we’d driven into a residential area.
“We must make some quick turns down alleys. Just do what I say.”
She was the quarterback.
We quickly approached an alley that stretched to both sides of the street. “Which way?”
She barked out a new direction every hundred feet or so. The ultimate maze. I made six turns in less than a minute. “See her?”
“No. I am sure she is lost in that maze of alleys, just like I was as a child.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Homes flashed by on both sides of the street. “You lived in one of those houses.”
She nodded. “I got lost a lot. My parents had to teach me to look for the purple mailbox.”
“That’s the road your parents lived on?”
“Near it. Filip would sometimes help, when he wasn’t trying to trick me into getting lost. Little devil.”
“Where should I go now?”
“Just keep going on this road. We will put some distance between us and the motorcycle now.”
We passed the Old Town Market Square, where droves of people shopped and bartered for goods. Magdalena said one could buy everything from food to fine jewelry to pieces of art in the countless shops and small booths. It had been a favorite place for her and her brother to play hide-and-seek.
We were driving north out of Warsaw, biding some time. A worthy goal. But it was hard to imagine how much longer we’d be able to outmaneuver such a large contingent of law enforcement, especially with no plan for cover or escape.
“Should I reach out to Filip again?” Magdalena asked.
Her question told me she perhaps doubted that was the best move. So I did as well. “Who knows what’s going on in his world right now? He could have ABW agents in his house.”
