Gut Instinct: A Taskforce Story - Страница 3

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MILF stood for the Moro Islamic Liberation Front, an Islamic group from the southern Philippines that was contesting the government for autonomy. Unlike the name implied, they weren’t a bunch of hot cougars looking for mates. They were killers. In truth, they were more nationalistic than outright terrorist, but, like all such organizations, they would do what was necessary to survive, including helping JI on terrorist attacks against American interests if it meant a quid pro quo.

“So what’s that got to do with us? Why Grolier Services? Is there something archeological that you need Jennifer to penetrate?”

“Not exactly. It’s not your company per se. It’s Jennifer herself. The wife of the MILF — quit grinning, Pike — is a courier. She’s a conduit to the heavy hitters, we’re sure. We want to walk up the chain, find out what they’re up to.”

Jennifer said, “I don’t get why that means me. What do I have to offer?”

“The wife goes to a workout facility every day. She spends about thirty minutes in the female locker room, and we have no idea what she’s doing. Whoever she’s meeting there is the next link in the chain.”

“Wait, wait,” I said. “You want Jennifer because she has tits? Not because of her skills?”

Both Jennifer and Kurt glared at me. Kurt said, “Jesus, Pike, come on. Johnny’s team is the one who asked for her. Apparently they were impressed with her work in Indonesia. As for her other ‘assets’ you so indelicately stated, yeah, that’s what makes her special. She can get into the locker room.”

I snorted and leaned back. “So you don’t need our company. Don’t need what we can provide. You just need a female.”

Jennifer said, “Pike, what’s gotten into you? Kurt’s here because of our company. Jesus, don’t turn this into some feminist rant. If anyone should do that, it’s me, and I don’t see it. It’s like you’re mad because they didn’t ask for you.”

That stung. “Bullshit. I know Johnny’s team. They won’t listen to you.”

Kurt said, “Calm down, damn it. It’s a simple mission. Get in the gym locker room and report. Four days at most. She’ll be home before you know it.”

“Huh? You mean I’m not going?”

“I don’t see why. She can handle herself. She’s already proved that, and you’re nowhere near mission capable. You’d be better served continuing your physical therapy.”

I was about to really lose it when Jennifer said, “He’s going. We’re a team.”

Kurt said, “Jennifer, this is just as much about your position in the Taskforce as it is about the mission. I want you to succeed.” He looked at me. “And so does Pike. You can’t have him holding your hand all the time if you want to earn the trust of the operators.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I desperately wanted to go for the very reasons Kurt said I shouldn’t. And he might be right.

Jennifer settled it.

“I don’t give a shit about your macho operator issues. He’s going because I trust him. No offense, but I can’t say the same for Johnny’s team. He doesn’t go, I don’t go.”

I didn’t say a word, but it wasn’t necessary. A smug grin split my face and Kurt rolled his eyes.

“The dynamic duo. Great. Just remember, this is Johnny’s mission, not yours.”

Chapter 3

We met Johnny in the Long Bar at the Raffles hotel located in Makati city, a financial hub in Manila. His team was here on some sort of bigwig telecommunications contract, so he got the five-star treatment to support his cover story. Grolier Services didn’t rate. As a small, independent business, we were relegated to a Best Western about a mile away. After seeing the place, I was considering how to increase our revenues. Or at least make it appear that way on paper.

The bar was a replica of the original Long Bar at the Raffles hotel in Singapore where the Singapore Sling was invented, and where I’d spent some serious time while working with their Special Forces. Another life a long time ago. Comparing the one here to the real one was a little like comparing the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World to a real Caribbean island. It looked the same, but in a fake sort of way.

Johnny showed up wearing a business suit, which made me laugh. I’m sure he’d have given up the hotel and slept in a hammock in the jungle if he could have gotten rid of the tie. He did wear it well, though.

The first words out of his mouth set the tone. At least to me. “Hey, I heard you were coming over as well, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page. We don’t need you. We need Jennifer.”

Man, am I getting sick of hearing that. I knew he was just setting the playing field, making sure that I understood who was in charge. I was good with that. I’d have done the same.

I said, “I got that, but we had to come as a team for the cover. It made no sense for Jennifer to come on her own.”

He gave me a look, and I knew the story sounded as lame as it was.

“Fine, but I’m briefing Jennifer, not you.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded, letting him get on with it.

He said, “How much did you get before you left?”

Jennifer said, “Just the connection between the wife and the MILF guy, and that she frequents a gym.”

“That’s about the sum of it. The ‘MILF guy’ is Bayani Matapang. He’s very, very poor. He lives in a shantytown over in Maharlika village, right next to the Blue Mosque, in a Moro community. He received four shipments from Sungkar before that guy was killed in Cairo, and all of the shipments failed to go through customs. He managed to clear them through his job at the airport, which is where he fits into this piece. He’s just a way station. What we need to know is where the packages went and what’s in them.”

“And you think the wife will lead you to that?”

“Yes,” he said. “We’ve watched Bayani for a couple of weeks, and all he does is go to work, the mosque, and home. We’ve wired the mosque and gotten nowhere. Same with work. Which leaves the wife.”

He passed across a digital photo. “She goes to a place called Fitness Forever over in Taguig city, near the old Fort Bonifacio. The place is a state-of-the-art facility used by the upper crust. There’s no way she can afford it. Someone’s footing the bill, and that someone is a connection up the stream.”

“How will I get in?”

He passed across a small cylindrical key fob made of metal, not unlike those used in American gas stations to speed-pay for fuel. “We got you a membership. Don’t worry, it’s tied to Grolier Services, not us.”

“What’s my timeline?”

“No rush. We’ll stake out the house and call when she’s on the way. She usually comes in the afternoon, but not on any set schedule. She also doesn’t always work out. Sometimes she heads straight into the locker room and spends about thirty minutes in there, then leaves again. She does nothing suspicious in the gym itself, but we have no idea what she’s doing in the locker room. Spend the first day getting a feel for the place. Find some vantage points in the locker room for static surveillance.”

“And the mission?”

“Simple. Get us a photo of whoever she’s meeting, then get us the new target’s address.”

“How am I going to do that?”

“Wait until she secures her locker, then break in. Get a scan of whatever you can find.”

“Okay… Sounds easy enough.”

Johnny said, “It is easy. Easier than that break-in we had you do in Indonesia, I promise.”

* * *

After ten minutes with no target, Jennifer slowed the pace of the treadmill in case she was going to be on it for an hour. Johnny had texted that the wife was on the way, but clearly she was taking her time.

Jennifer had conducted a recce of the gym the day before and found it rivaled anything she’d seen in the United States. A stand-alone two-story structure, it held just about every type of exercise equipment in existence, from CrossFit tires, rope, and kettle balls to computer-activated weight machines. Unfortunately, all of that equipment was outside the view of the front door, which had a stand-up juice bar and small pro shop. The only thing available was a long string of treadmills that faced a bank of mirrors, allowing her to turn her back to the entrance and still see everyone who entered. Provided she could remain focused on the mirror. Long-distance running was not Jennifer’s forte, and she wished the rope and acrobatics section was in view of the front doors. Or the climbing wall was on the inside.

An attractive Filipino woman of about thirty-five took the treadmill to her right and began sprinting, then walking, working intervals to Jennifer’s slow jog. She wore a thick necklace with a heavy gold cross, and Jennifer was amazed she could concentrate on her run with the thing bouncing and flying all over the place.

Jennifer caught a flash from the front door opening and saw the wife enter. She continued her jog, waiting for the woman to commit either to the gym or to the locker room. The wife looked right at her, staring for a second, sending a spike of adrenaline through Jennifer. The woman to her right stopped the treadmill and exited, walking toward the locker room. The wife fell in behind her.

Jennifer waited a full three minutes, then followed suit, grabbing a towel and entering the large female changing area. She saw nobody in the anteroom, passed by the sink and makeup area, and went into the locker section. She listened and heard a giggle at the far end. She continued on, acting like she was headed to the toilets. She passed a row of lockers and saw the wife sitting on a bench next to the woman with the cross. They were whispering to each other, both now wearing towels. When they heard her coming, the woman snatched her hands to her sides, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.