Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Sfax, Tunisia

 

Justin told Patton that he was going outside to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. That was partially true—in fact, the only truth to his statement. Justin was stepping outside for a sensitive phone call as well, about which he wanted Patton to have no knowledge. He trusted Patton, but wanted to give him full plausible deniability for what Justin was about to do. No reason for him to get involved in this scandal, if things go sideways.

He looked around the empty back alley, then reached for his phone. Justin’s mind went to the potential consequences of his actions. He doubted Flavio would terminate or otherwise discipline him, considering he was only reaching for additional support and intelligence. Flavio had said nothing against taking such steps. However, if Justin crossed into the gray area of taking matters into his own hands—especially if Flavio were to give clear and direct orders to the contrary—the consequences could be severe. He sighed and dialed a number from memory. At this point, I’m only using unofficial channels and calling in a favor from an old friend. Just like Flavio.

The man at the other end of the call replied in a cheerful tone, “Marco, chi parla?” Who is speaking?

“Hey, Marco, this is Justin.”

“Justin, mio vecchio amico.” My old friend. “A pleasure to hear from you.”

“Might not be exactly a pleasure once you hear what I need.”

A brief pause, then Marco replied in the same tone, “Justin, I owe you my life. Now, what is this favor you speak of?”

“At this point, it’s just intel. But it might turn into something more.”

“Field op?”

“Yes.”

“When and where?”

“Tunisia, potentially. Time: uncertain, but in the next few hours, a day or two at the most.”

A moment of sharp static, then Marco said, “They both work very well. I’m stationed in Mauritania, so it’s only a short flight away.”

“What’s AISE doing in Mauritania?”

“Eh, don’t ask. Technically, we’re not even supposed to be here. But the government is having some trouble with local extremists. A branch loosely tied to the Islamic State.”

Justin nodded. The Islamic State refused to die, stretching its thorny branches across the Middle East and parts of Africa. AISE, or the Italian foreign intelligence agency, was one of a handful of foreign services fighting the wannabe terrorists in their own land, before they exported their jihad abroad. “What intel does AISE have on a certain Taha Khazri?”

Marco thought about it for a moment. “I’ll have to check our files. The name doesn’t ring a bell. He’s Tunisian, I assume?”

“Correct.”

“Send me what you have, and I’ll do a cross-check.”

“I’ll do that right away.”

“What has Khazri done?”

Justin hesitated for a moment before replying. He was asking a big favor from Marco and did not want to lie to his friend. “Khazri might have kidnapped Karolin.”

“What? Karolin?”

“Yes, this is what happened.” He told him about the events in Tunis.

“Justin, I’m flying to Tunis right away, and we’ll go after this scoundrel.”

Justin smiled. “We’re not there yet, but I won’t exclude the—”

“Justin, he took your girlfriend. Of course we’re going after his a—”

“I don’t have the evidence that Khazri did it.”

“Eh, there’s little value in evidence when it comes to things like this. We’re not taking this to a court of law, right?”

“Right.”

“And what does your gut feeling tell you?”

Justin’s fingers tightened around the phone as he imagined what Karolin might be going through. He swallowed hard and said, “Even if he didn’t order it, he knows what happened and where she is.”

“And we’re going to make him tell us, one way or another.”

“Marco, I can’t thank you eno—”

“Don’t mention it, Justin. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing.”

Marco laughed. “Very generous of you. After this job, we’re square. But until then, I’ll find what we have on Khazri, and I’ll leave as soon as I can, probably by nightfall. Tomorrow morning, I’ll meet you in Tunis.”

“I’m in Sfax.”

“I’ll come to Sfax.”

“All right. I’ll give you the address when I send over the files. Thanks again.”

“My pleasure, Justin. And listen, we’ll find Karolin, and whoever took her will pay with blood and tears.”

Marco’s voice had turned ice sharp, and Justin was glad the Italian agent was on his side. He drew in a deep breath and said, “See you tomorrow, Marco.”

“Later, man.”

Marco ended the call.

Justin pocketed his phone and glanced at the Medina Hotel two blocks away. I hope Marco and I don’t have to go rogue. But I’ll do everything to get Karolin back. Everything. Hold on a little bit longer, Karolin. I’m coming for you. He whispered a brief prayer, then walked back.

He had just entered the lobby, when his phone rang. A Tunis number he did not recognize. “Yes, who is this?” he said in a wary tone in Arabic.

“Justin, it’s me, Carrie.”

“Carrie, how are you? You out?”

“Yes, yes, I’m well and free as a bird. Now listen, I’ve got some good news: Khazri is in Sousse, and most likely, Karolin is there as well.”

“Sousse? Where did the intel come from?”

Carrie told him about the conversation with the police colonel and the intelligence she had obtained from him. “It seems to be reliable, but we’ll double-check before heading out. But it seems we’re going to Sousse.”

Justin nodded. “Yes, and we’ll burn down the whole town if we have to.”