Chapter 40

  The flaps of the LearJet 60 were fully extended as it passed over the Vltava River just before landing on runway 13-31 at Prague Ruzyně International Airport. Ken Jackson looked out his window at the silvery-blue river with its many bridges and islands as it snaked through the old city. He was a large black man in his mid-forties who had done three tours as a Navy Seal in Iraq and two in Afghanistan before joining the private contracting firm, which he and the only other man on the flight were a part of. Jackson had just finished an extremely difficult and successful mission in the Horn of Africa and looking forward to a much easier assignment. The big man looked over at his sleeping companion and thought about waking him, but he figured he deserved every minute of sleep he could get. The private jet made a very soft landing and was taxied to the original airport structures, now terminal 4, reserved exclusively for VIPs and State Dignitaries. After the wheel chocks were set in place, the pilot powered down the twin Pratt and Whitney engines and entered the flight record into his log.

  *****

  Jackson finally woke his companion, and after gathering their gear, they disembarked the plane and made their way to a black Mercedes Benz limousine waiting for their arrival. They were then escorted by motorcade to a nondescript red stone building that housed the Prague police department headquarters. They were greeted there by Captain Gorvin, a no-nonsense man who worked his way up the ranks by being fair and tough. Jackson couldn’t help but notice the scars on the Captain’s face. He guessed that the man was in his mid-fifties, although it was hard to tell because he looked like he had a hard life.

  Gorvin looked at the two men in front of him, and knowing their thoughts, he said, “Drug dealers tried to do some cosmetic surgery on my face. It didn’t turn out too well for me or for them.” He said with a chuckle. Jackson noted that the Captain’s English was excellent, although he had an obvious Czech accent.

  “Drug dealers can be some very nasty fellows,” Jackson said with a knowing nod.

  Captain Gorvin briefed them on the developments of the last 24 hours, starting with the killings and gun battle that ensued with police at Dr. Chakinski’s apartment. It seems that the killer or killers had escaped in a dark-colored Mercedes Van that had yet to be found.

  “Thanks to Dr. Chakinski’s surveillance video, we believe we have tentatively identified the killer as a Russian National with a long criminal record. His name is Ivan Rakov, and his resume is quite extensive. He has a long list of unsavory trades, including extortion, drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, and white slavery, but first and foremost, he’s a hired killer. He’s killed at least twelve people that we know of, so the list is probably two to three times that. His mother was a prostitute and drug addict, and from what we can tell, she either abandoned him on the streets of Moscow or he just walked away from her. He killed his first man at the tender age of twelve. Ivan stabbed him in the neck for a few rubles and a bottle of vodka. He was sent to the infamous boy’s prison camp at Bashkortostan, where he spent the next ten years in that disease-infested shit hole with hundreds of other boys. After his release, Rakov took up with the Russian mob as an enforcer and hired killer. Despite his lack of formal schooling, he’s very intelligent and cunning. I’ve been told that he’s vowed to never see the inside of a prison again.”

  Jackson was aware of all of this because he had read Rakov’s file on the plane, yet he listened politely because he thought he might just learn something that wasn’t in his brief. He didn’t. In fact, his report was much more thorough.

  *****

  After Jackson and his companion checked into their perspective rooms at an upscale hotel in the heart of the city, they were driven to the hospital where Dr. Chakinski was recovering. Upon arriving, they were briefed on his condition by Dr. Bilovsky, the head surgeon. He informed them that his patient was no longer in danger and his prognosis for a full recovery looked very good, thanks to the paramedics who arrived quickly at the scene. He requested that he keep his visit short. They were escorted by a slightly overweight young nurse to a private room in a secure area of the hospital. As they approached the room, they noted that his room was guarded by a very competent-looking policeman who asked for their credentials even though Captain Gorvin radioed that they were coming.

  After showing the officers their IDs and a nod by the nurse, they were permitted to enter. The lead man was surprised to see Dr. Chakinski sitting in bed. He appeared to be in excellent health, but as he got closer, he could see the man was pale and looked tired and weak.

  “Hello, Dr. Chakinski; my name is Jesse Taylor, and this is my associate, Ken Jackson. I’m a private contractor working for the United States Government. I understand that you speak English very well and that you had a little chat with President Roberts today.”

  Chakinski eyed the handsome older gentleman. He had, in fact, received a call from the President wishing him a speedy recovery, and he mentioned that he was sending someone to Prague to speak with him about his previous offer. Chakinski didn’t object. Just a few hours later, this man was standing before him with a warm smile.

  “Yes, I did have the pleasure of speaking with your President today. It was very nice of him to call and wish me well. And please call me Peter. Dr. Chakinski is a little too formal.”

  Jesse nodded and asked, “ How are you feeling, Peter?”

  “Very tired, and I can’t tell exactly how I feel with all of the painkillers that they’ve pumped into me.”

  “Well, that’s understandable. I’m told that you’re very lucky to be alive. I was also told that you did a courageous thing.”

  “So they tell me. But I wouldn’t call it brave.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Jesse nodded without commenting further on the matter.

  “I understand you had your apartment set up with surveillance equipment and that your cameras caught the man who shot you. I don’t know how much Captain Gorvin has told you, but thanks to your surveillance video, they have identified the man who broke into your apartment. They are currently testing DNA samples for a positive match; however, that’s just a formality. You and your friend were very fortunate. Thanks to your quick thinking, you escaped sure death at the hands of a very dangerous killer.”

  “I was just fortunate that a can of pepper spray was on Martha’s table, and I had the opportunity to use it.”

  “Martha, was the elderly woman that was killed in your apartment building?”

  Peter nodded. "Yes, she lived in the apartment just down the hall from me."

  "Can you tell me exactly what happened that night, starting with when you arrived home?" Jesse had read the report but wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth.

  Peter went through all the events that transpired from when he got home until we woke up in the hospital. When he was finished, he said very solemnly.

  "I'm very sorry that two people had to die because of me."

  Jesse understood where he was coming from and tried to put things in perspective.

  "I'm sorry you lost your neighbor, Peter, but unfortunately, there are evil men in this imperfect world. These people were after your research, and your neighbors were just collateral damage to them."

  "I understand that, Mr. Taylor; however, it doesn't ease the pain and guilt I'm feeling right now. Martha was like a grandmother to me, and I will miss her greatly."

  "Well, that brings me to the reason for my visit. I hope you will reconsider President Roberts's offer. I understand that one of the reasons that you declined his offer was because of the confinement. I'm sure that we can work on this and give you ample time away from the facility if that is the main sticking point. We can even fly you back here for visits if you like."

  The conversation turned to his research, and they spoke for ten minutes before Jesse heard the door open behind him. A lovely young nurse walked in and informed Jesse politely but firmly that her patient needed his rest.

  "I'll just be a moment," Jesse said to her, and his smile melted her ridged demeanor.

  She smiled back and said, "Just one more minute," then she closed the door as she left.

  "Thank you for your time, Peter."

  Jesse came over to the side of the bed and touched his arm. "Why don't you get some rest now, and we'll talk some more later."

  "I'll look forward to it. Thanks for coming. Please tell the President that I'm considering it."

  "It will be my pleasure," Jesse said softly, patting his arm lightly before leaving the room.

  *****

  Out in the hallway, Jesse looked at his notes. Obviously, someone wanted to get their hands on his research and was sparing no expense to achieve that goal. Jesse had asked him how he kept his research records safe and who had access to them. He wasn’t surprised that he was the only one with access to his records but was surprised how his files were kept safe. Jesse was just getting around to his staff and volunteers at the lab when the nurse walked in. Before he talked with Peter, Jesse believed that someone in his lab was probably a mole, but after hearing how he screened people, he couldn’t be sure.

  *****

  Later that night, Jesse returned to the police station to review a few details when his cell phone rang. He looked at the photo of his daughter on the incoming call, and a smile came to his face.

  “Hello, sweetheart, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. Happy birthday, Daddy. Sorry, I can’t be there with you today. How is everything at home?” Cindy Taylor’s soft voice came through crystal clear.

  “Thank you. I’m doing just fine. And no need to apologize for not coming home. I know you have a lot on your plate with finals. And how’s school going these days?”

  “Oh, you know, just the same boring stuff; I can’t wait to finish out this year and take a long-needed break. I think my mind is being overloaded.”

  Jesse laughed and said, “My dear, at your age, your mind is like a sponge; it soaks up everything. But me, on the other hand, I think my hard drive is maxed out, and my processor is old and failing.”

  Now it was Cindy’s turn to laugh, “I don’t think you’re ready for the scrap heap yet. And besides, I don’t think you have a problem with your memory. You don’t forget anything.”

  “Have you heard from your brother?”

  “I got an e-mail from him yesterday. He said he was going to try to call you today. One of his friends was wounded two days ago in an ambush. Thank God he wasn’t hit. I worry about him a lot. You know he only has 30 days left on his tour. I can’t wait to see him again.”

  “Me too, sweetheart, me too!”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Cindy asked.

  It had been three years since Jesse's wife had died of breast cancer, and his daughter was worried about him living alone. She had set up an account for him on one of those dating sites on the internet, including his photo and brief bio, but he wouldn't answer any of the e-mails he received because he did have his eyes on someone, a beautiful redhead with gorgeous green eyes.

  "Don't you worry, you're pretty little head about me, honey; my job keeps me very busy, as you know. Speaking of going out, are you still seeing that young man? What's his name you brought home with you on spring break?"

  Cindy was as sharp as a tack. "You know very well that his name is David, and you're just trying to change the subject. But yes, we still see each other when we have some free time."

  "And?"

  "And what?"

  "And are you guys serious?"

  "We're more like good friends. David is very sweet and nice but not the man I want to marry."

  “Good.”

  “What do you mean good? I thought you liked him?”

  “I do like him, but he’s just a little too sweet and nice.”

  They both started to laugh. Then Cindy heard people talking in a different language in the background.

  “Where are you, dad?”

  Jesse covered the phone and moved further into the next room. “Oh, I’m just shopping at a Wal-Mart. You do know that it’s a melting pot of ethnic diversity.”

  “Don’t give me that; you’ve never shopped at a Wal-Mart in your entire life.” Cindy knew the kind of work her dad did and that he traveled all over the world.” She suspected that he wasn’t at home.

  “You’re too smart for your own britches, young lady. But you are right; I don’t shop at Wal-Mart, and if you must know, I’m the one who takes all those photos of Walmartians and posts them on the internet. I just do it as a hobby.” Jesse said with just a hint of melodrama as he walked over and closed the door.

  “Oh, why do I even bother?” Cindy said with a bit of anguish in her voice.

  “Well, Daddy, I have to get going now; my ride just pulled up. You have a great day! I love you.” Cindy’s voice was a little sad because she missed her father.

  “You have a good day, honey. I love you, too. Bye for now. Oh, and say a prayer for your brother.”

  “I always do. Bye, Daddy, and happy birthday.”

  After his call ended, Jesse sat down on the corner of an old oak desk that hadn’t seen furniture polish in thirty years and let out a long sigh. He hated to deceive his daughter, but that was just part of his life. He simply didn’t want Cindy to worry about him as well as her brother. The men she overheard were members of the Elite Swat Team of the Czech Republic Police that had just returned to the police station from a false lead on Ivan Rakov.