Chapter 29

The first few hours of James’ shift went by exactly as his previous shift had. He made note of each car that passed, cross referenced them against the growing list he and the other agents had been compiling. A few of the cars had come up multiple times, which was no surprise as it was a residential area, and none had stopped at the location in question. According to the mission notes, someone had left the house to get the mail at some point during the night, but because of the distance and light conditions, a positive ID was impossible. Regardless, at least they knew someone was actually in the house. James leaned forward, keeping his eyes on the mailbox of the house he was watching, focusing on it in an attempt to clear his mind. He was so eager to see Eve, he’d fantasized about getting out of the (now rather smelly) Cobalt and running to her, wherever she was. Just to see her face again, feel her skin close to his. It was silly romanticism. It was childish and immature. It was glorious.

He clenched his jaw and strengthened his resolve. He had four more hours to stand his post and watching the second hand on his watch while singing love songs in his head would neither make the time pass faster nor would it aid in what should have been the most important thing on his mind: the investigation. He was staring so intently at the mailbox as he thought that he almost didn’t notice the car pulling into the house’s driveway just beyond it. When the door opened and an athletic looking man in a beige suit climbed out, James was back in the game. He noted the make and model to the best of his ability, it had been a few years since he’d been in the States and there weren’t many Cadillacs in Honduras, but he was pretty confident it was a CTS-V. If his memory served, they came with the drivetrain out of the top of the line Corvette and weren’t cheap. Crime, it would seem, does pay.

James watched as the man walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. He looked around impatiently for a moment before the door cracked open. He couldn’t make out who was inside before the man in beige walked in and closed the door behind him. James noted the time and leaned back in his chair. Finally, he thought, something is happening. What exactly was happening, however, James really had no idea. Staring at the house harder had done little to solve the mystery and his head was still pounding. He opened the bottle of Motrin he’d been keeping on the shelf next to his notebook and tossed another handful of pills into his mouth, this time chewing them before swallowing.

Fifteen minutes before his shift ended, he received a text from the agent that would be his relief. Just as he had eighteen hours earlier with Jack, James pulled his Cobalt out from its spot once another car was in place down the street and drove to the designated meeting point. James briefed him on the visitor that was still inside followed by an abbreviated rundown of the rest of the cars and pedestrians he’d seen, they exchanged cars and goodbyes and were on their separate ways. James did an excellent job of acting bored and unexcited despite his eagerness to see Eve growing exponentially the closer his opportunity came. He had the burner in his hand and dialing before he had even left the parking lot.

“James?” She was excited.

“Yeah, where are you?” He didn’t intend to stay on the call for long, just in case anyone was listening or tracking him. Paranoia, perhaps, but he was a spy.

“I’m at a rest stop just outside the city getting the worst sleep of my life,” she laughed a bit, but he could hear her exhaustion through the phone.

“Find a hotel nearby and I’ll meet you there,” James began.

“A hotel, huh? Well, Mister Webb, what have you got on your mind?” Her playful demeanor did little to lessen the sting of her accidentally using his cover name. He decided not to correct her.

“I was leaning toward taking a nap, but I guess we can see how things play out.” He smiled as he spoke, not that she could see it.

“You’d better not fall right to sleep, you know how much gas costs these days? I’m gonna get my money’s worth out of you.” James was still smiling, and he could tell she was too. Flirtation had made children of them.

“I can’t wait.” He said before they both hung up. He pulled into a Dunkin’ Donuts and ordered a medium iced coffee, just like he always had in his past life. The familiar taste of bad coffee with too much sugar mixed with ice cubes brought back memories he didn’t have time to linger on. He took another long sip and pulled into a parking spot, waiting for her to return his call. He had obviously thought about having sex with Eve when she arrived, but he hadn’t given it as much consideration as the emotional weight of reuniting with her. Suddenly, sex was all he could think about. As if he wasn’t eager enough for her to call back. He sighed as though he was disappointed in himself as he tucked his erection under his belt. He’d never seen James Bond have to do that. The phone lit up and he answered it before it had a chance to sound the ringer.

“Hey,” his excitement coming through the microphone made his greeting sound abrupt.

“Hey,” she didn’t seem fazed, “Motel 6 off of exit thirteen on route ninety-one. I’ll be in room twenty-two.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” James looked up at the highway onramp nearby. He was on route ninety-one, but if memory served from his drive over, the ramp’s exit number was somewhere in the forties.

“I’d be quicker than that if you wanna catch me in the shower.” Her voice grew breathy as she spoke. It occurred to him that she was just as eager as he was to see him, which did little to stifle the problem tucked under his belt.

“Can’t argue with that, see you in ten.” He hung up as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. James found himself wondering if the police would even pull over a blacked out Town Car with government plates. He hoped not, because he intended to do some speeding.

He pulled into the parking lot doing thirty and bottomed the car out on a speed bump. The thud combined with the sound of metal scraping blacktop awoke him from his sex-fueled revelry enough to check his mirrors in embarrassment, hoping no one saw his driving like an idiot. To his delight, the road behind him was clear. His face, still flush with embarrassment, began to cool as he pulled into an open parking spot right in front of room twenty-two. He was in such a hurry to get out of the car that he accidentally left the keys in the ignition and had to double back to grab them. He straightened his tie and approached the door, his heart racing, it was open a crack and he could hear the shower running inside. Not a terribly safe tactical decision on her part, but it certainly conjured pleasant imagery in James’ head. He paused as he reached the door, suddenly worried that it could be the wrong room, then took a deep breath and walked in anyway.

James and Eve hardly spoke at all. The next hour was all cooing and kisses, skin and skin. When it was over, they laid next to one another on the bed, panting lightly and holding hands. James looked over at her; her brown hair lying on the bed around her face like a picture frame, her soft skin glistening with a light sweat. For the first time in as long as he could remember, James felt peace, but he only realized it as the anxiety of the real world began to seep back into his consciousness. The warmth of their bed gave way to a chill as her face also brought back memories of Honduras… of death and responsibility. He turned back to the ceiling, hoping he could find some way to hang on to the good while ignoring the bad, but it was too late. An apathetic misery swept over him. For the first time, James wished he could quit everything, not just the mission. He wanted a new life, but more importantly, he wished he could forget the old one.

“What’s wrong?” Eve sensed his increasing uneasiness. James tried to think of a way to articulate what he was feeling, but even that seemed far too much. He was preparing to lie to her, to tell her he was fine, but he was interrupted ahead of time by the sound of his phone vibrating. Odd, he thought. He stood up and walked across the room to where his pants were hanging on the back of a chair. He pulled the phone out of the pocket and casually looked out the window toward the parking lot. Fear washed over him. James froze, phone in hand, staring out the window. Past his Town Car and across the street a man in a beige suit got out of a silver Cadillac CTS-V and looked in his direction. James’ mouth went dry. He looked down at the telephone, a text message on the screen waited impatiently for his attention. He swiped his finger across the phone to open it, “You’ve been compromised. Not safe.” He dropped the phone and backed away from the window. His mind racing. The man in the beige suit leaned against his car as though he knew James was watching, though he couldn’t know how. He must have followed me here and I didn’t even know it, James reasoned. Once again, he’d been so distracted by his feelings for Eve, by his libido, that he’d missed the bigger picture.

“Get dressed.” He issued the order as he always did in the Marine Corps when the situation was serious: with a low voice and an intentional tone. It was not subject to debate. Eve obliged without a word, appreciating the severity of his words without having to understand the situation. It was admirable of her, James thought to himself as he pulled his pants on without looking away from their visitor across the street. An SUV pulled over and into the same parking lot as the Cadillac. It slowed to a stop and two more men, each carrying AK-47s (or possibly AK-74s, he couldn’t tell from this distance). He pulled his undershirt over his head, pulled his pistol from the holster and dialed the number he’d received the text from.

“Answering service, how may I direct your call?” A pleasant and professional woman’s voice surprised him.

“Tell Agent Black that I’m at a Motel 6 off exit thirteen on route ninety one. Requesting immediate assistance. Superior firepower and position, I need EVAC for two including myself. Better call the paramedics and local police too, I don’t think we’ll be able to keep this one quiet.” He hung up the phone and turned to Eve, “check the bathroom for another way out.” Eve ran into the bathroom door but returned instantly shaking her head.

“No way we can fit out that little window,” she said, “what’s out there?”

“All kinds of trouble,” James grabbed the extra magazine from his belt. Fourteen rounds from a short barreled nine millimeter at a distance of greater than fifty yards. From his calculations, he had about as much chance of hitting them as he did of them suddenly dying of natural causes. An AK-47, on the other hand, is superior to the US issue M16s and M4s in a number of ways. Inside two hundred yards they’re as accurate as any M16, but their larger caliber rounds (7.62 millimeters versus the M16’s 5.56) gave them superior stopping and penetration power. Even a car door, James knew, wouldn’t stop many rounds from an AK-47. If they were AK-74s instead, that all held true with one exception; they were accurate from even further away.

The three men milled about a bit, clearly discussing something. James wondered if anyone could see them and was already calling the police. Maybe they would get lucky and some squad cars would show up to scare off or even engage their visitors, but he couldn’t count on that. He needed to come up with a plan to get Eve out of there safely. Nothing else mattered.

“Where are your keys?” He asked her.

“In my purse,” she grabbed the Coach purse James hadn’t noticed on the desk earlier.

“Where are you parked?” He asked. She paused for a minute, then looked out the window to help herself remember. She saw the men, now walking side by side across the road and toward their parking lot and went pale.

“Are they after us?” She nearly whispered as she covered her mouth and ducked down. James didn’t bother ducking. From this distance, standing up and on the move, they’d have to be a hell of a shot to put one through the window. No sooner had James finished that thought did the man on the left raise his rifle and unleash an automatic barrage of bullets. They tore across the width of the motel, one of them shattering their window and hit the wall behind James. When his magazine ran dry, he simply ejected it and slid a new one in from his belt. James ducked down and didn’t dare check to see how many more magazines the man was carrying. Eve screamed and curled up into the fetal position. James didn’t notice, he scurried over to the door and turned the knob as another thunderous round of gunfire rang out through the air, this time a number of bullet holes appeared on the far wall. So they know which room we’re in, James noted to himself as he threw open the door and raised his pistol. He had only an instant to level the weapon and fire and they were still too far away for the snubbed pistol to be accurate, but a lucky shot will kill a man just as well as a well-placed one and James was hoping he was lucky. He squeezed the trigger three times, the men ducked and scattered, two behind a minivan in the parking lot and the beige suit wearing man behind a Ford Focus. He produced a chrome pistol that was big enough to double as a night stick and aimed it in James’ direction. James dove from the doorway as two holes the size of softballs erupted from the press-board door.

“Eve, you have to listen to me,” James announced as he poked his head up in the window and fired two more rounds, this time breaking the windows of the Focus but still not hitting anyone. He ducked again as 7.62 rounds began to spray into the walls once more.

“Oh… okay…” she whimpered through her sobs. Her eye shadow had survived the shower only to be ruined now.

“What kind of car did you drive?” He asked again.

“A Focus… a Ford Focus,” she shouted over gunfire, “a silver one!” James looked at her apologetically for a split second before raising his head and still broken hand once more to empty the final two rounds of that clip into her car. More return fire was rattling against the drywall before he was back behind the radiator that sat below the window.

“Take my keys,” he tossed her the keys to the Town Car, “I’m going to draw them away and you’re gonna get the hell outta here, understand?”

“No!” She shouted angrily, “You aren’t doing this to me again!” James dropped the magazine and slid his last seven rounds into the gun. “I’m not leaving you here to die!”

“Good, because I don’t plan on dying,” he looked at her in the eyes and for that instant, fleeting as it was, there was silence. In the time it took to reload an AK-47, James and Eve were the only two people on the planet, and he knew in his heart that she loved him as much as he loved her. Contentment, if even for a fraction of a second, was worth everything else. James turned back to the door and turned the knob even though it wasn’t latched. The sound of gunfire violated their peace. He looked back at Eve one more time and mouthed the words, “I love you” before throwing the door open and opening fire.

James fired once at the Focus and then twice more at the minivan, hoping to put them behind cover long enough for him to reach a Volvo off to his right. It didn’t quite do the trick and pistol rounds that sounded more like a cannon tore through the shutters and windows behind him as he dove for cover. Once he’d taken quick accountability of all of his important parts, he planted his feet and stood to return fire. He leveled the weapon in both hands and squeezed the trigger once as another pistol round turned a nearby wooden post into a grenade of splinters. One of the two men with assault rifles dropped as James’ round hit its mark and he dropped back behind cover. Three rounds left, two bad guys, James thought. He heard shouting in what he thought was Arabic, though he admittedly didn’t really know exactly what Arabic sounded like. It was the best chance he was going to get. James stood up and started running down the sidewalk toward the far end of the motel. From behind him, he heard more shouting, followed by gunfire. He didn’t dare look back, but prayed they were following him. He came to a sliding stop when he reached the end of the parking lot and rolled behind a metal box that he assumed held some kind of utility. He prayed it wasn’t for the motel’s gas line. He peaked out from behind it with his head and hand and fired another round in their direction. He’d lost sight of the beige suit wearing man, but his remaining cohort was taking a new position with his rifle resting on the hood of a car. The man clearly lacked the training for this type of warfare, and although James had never before seen this type of combat, he’d certainly trained for it.

“Eve! Go now!” He shouted as he stood up and squeezed off another well aimed shot. Instantly the man was on the ground, his rifle still on the hood of the car. Eve sprinted out the door and toward the Lincoln. The man in the beige suit now stood up from behind the same Focus he’d been hiding behind and James panicked, firing his two remaining shots at him and missing with both. To James’ surprise however, the man didn’t return fire. He simply looked at James and smiled calmly as he produced a small black box, maybe a cell phone from his left hand pocket. They stared at one another for a moment, sharing a fraction of a second as James had a moment ago with Eve, then the man pressed a button and James was thrown onto his back.

A fireball rose up from a crater that had once been his car. A line of blood poured from James’ left ear and a ringing noise drowned out all other sound. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t get his bearings, but he had to get to Eve. He rolled over and got up onto his knees, but as he began to stand he stumbled forward, hitting his face on the sidewalk with enough force to lose his vision for another second. Blood poured now from his nose as well, but James summoned all the strength he had left and looked up at the burning remnants of the Town Car only a few yards away from him now. A shred of white leather with a brown C landed near him, edges still burning. James reached out for it. It was Eve’s purse. She was gone. The woman he loved was dead. His lungs emptied in a guttural moan and he fell back down to his knees. He spat the nose blood from his lips and groaned again, this time out of anger as much as despair. He pictured Eve’s beautiful face as framed by her short brown hair and his stomach evacuated its contents onto the sidewalk. The man in the beige suit casually got back into his Cadillac as James blacked out.