Chapter Four
Beechwood Cemetery
Ottawa, Canada
Javin glanced at the bright blue eyes looking at him from the small heart-shaped photo etched on the beige granite headstone. His trembling fingers touched the cold, hard surface and ran down along the edge of his wife’s photo. Javin touched her face and closed his eyes, feeling a couple of tears trailing down his face.
His mind raced to the dreary night almost three months ago. The snowstorm had started around midnight, when he had last talked to Steffi. She needed to give the final touches to her article appearing on the next day’s front page of the Ottawa Times, the city’s and Canada’s largest daily newspaper. Steffi promised to be home before morning.
She never came.
Instead, a phone call woke Javin up around five a.m. A horrible accident on Chaudiere Bridge. His wife, yes, his wife of three years was . . .
Javin drew in a deep breath and clenched his hand around the top of the headstone. “I love you too, honey. Always will.” He sighed, then brought his hand to his mouth. He gave his departed wife a kiss, then got up from his knees.
He glanced to his left and noticed a blue Jeep parked behind his rental car. It was Claudia’s vehicle, and she was sitting in the driver’s seat and talking on the phone. He turned around and took a moment to gather himself, then began to walk toward her.
Claudia put her phone away, then stepped out of the Jeep. She brushed back her long black hair, then lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head. Her large black eyes fell on Javin’s face as she gave him a small, restrained smile. “Hello, Javin. How are you?”
“Eh, okay. You?”
“I’m all right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
Javin shrugged. “I was . . . eh, I was done. How long have you been waiting?”
“Just arrived. Martin told me I might find you here.”
“What’s going on?” Javin stepped closer to Claudia. She was about his height, five-foot-ten, but her three-inch heels made her look taller.
She glanced around.
The closest people were an elderly couple crouched near a headstone about a dozen or so yards away. The woman was sobbing quietly, while her husband had wrapped his loving arm around her.
Claudia said, “Got a note from our man in Istanbul. MIT is now involved in the investigation.”
“Do they have the flash drive?”
“Not yet. The asset wasn’t sure. There seems to be some kind of jurisdictional infighting as to what agency should be in charge. But the flash drive will get into MIT’s hands at any time.”
Javin swore under his breath. Swiping the drive from the police station vault was an incredible feat in its own right. Snatching it from the MIT’s officers was next to impossible, especially if the entire affair was to be kept under wraps, as per Javin and Claudia’s operational protocol. While they were free to enlist the assistance of local assets and trusted sources, their operation was to remain a secret. After all, they were correctors, sent to Istanbul to fix the other team’s errors, not to cause new problems and complicate matters.
“Javin, what do you think?” Claudia asked in a soft tone.
“I think we’ll need a couple more people if we’re to break into an MIT fortress.”
Claudia shook her head. Her glasses flew off to the side, but she grabbed them with a quick gesture before they fell onto the grass.
Javin smiled. “Wow, excellent reflexes.”
“All those hours spent in kickboxing classes are paying off. But I don’t think Martin will authorize a larger team.”
Javin shook his head. “I’m not thinking of agency operatives.”
Claudia held his eyes. “Then who?”
Javin glanced at the old couple, who were slowly shuffling away. “I’m not sure. It will depend on who can help and what we need. I have a couple of contacts in the DGSE. One of them is active in southern Turkey.”
The DGSE was the Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure or the General Directorate for External Security, France’s foreign intelligence agency. After a series of spectacular failures, the agency was reorganized in 2017 and had expanded its network of assets and operatives. The new personnel were hungry for intelligence and always eager to cooperate with their foreign counterparts.
Claudia nodded. “Anybody I know?”
“No, not yet. You’ll soon make his acquaintance, although I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Considering how things are going, it may become inevitable.”
“When did you last talk to our asset?”
“About an hour ago.”
“We’ll call him from the airport before we fly out. Perhaps he’ll have an update by then.”
Claudia smiled. “I told him we’ll call him again in two hours, which is about right.”
Javin returned the smile. “You know me pretty well.”
“I’d like to think so. Especially since we’ll be out in the field again.”
Javin thought about his next question, unsure if he wanted to ask it or not, then he said, “How do you feel about it?”
Claudia’s eyes shone bright. “Returning to covert ground ops? Been waiting so long, I thought I might get rusty.”
“And you’re ready?”
“Fully ready, Javin. Many people think I’m not ready, but I’m glad you’re not one of them.” Claudia stepped closer to Javin and gave him an intense look. “This is extremely important for me. I’m . . . I’m grateful I have your trust.”
Javin returned an uncertain look. He did not know how much Martin had told her, but he would not have shared Javin’s doubts. Martin was a true vault when it came to confidential information, especially involving relations among operatives.
“What’s wrong, Javin?”
“Eh, what . . . No, nothing. As you were saying, it’s been a while since you were running a ground op.”
“But it will be okay. It will be you and me. Like old times.”
Javin smiled. “Yeah, good old times.”
He and Claudia had been partners in over a dozen operations during the last three years. Until the bottom fell out of her operation in Tunis, which resulted in the death of three CIS operatives. Claudia barely escaped with her life and suffered a lot of trauma. But she has bounced back. Perhaps it’s time I start trusting her again, as I once used to. He sighed and said, “You’re ready to go?”
“Sure. If you’re done here . . .”
“I am. I’ll return the car, then meet you at the house.”
“Your house?”
Javin nodded. He had not said “his,” as it did not feel as if it belonged to him anymore. After Steffi’s funeral, Javin rarely set foot in the house. He had thought about selling it, but he was not ready to part from the home that he and Steffi had dreamed of using to build their life together. “Yes, my go-bag is ready. I just need to pick up some clothes, then we’ll head to the airport.”
“Okay, I’ll follow you.”
“Good. See you in a bit.”
“Bye, Javin.”