Read Online Dead Eye by Mark Greaney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mark Greaney
Tags: thriller
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imagined he would need much or all of it to adequately disappear.
By noon he stood in his small quarters in the rear of the ship; he’d consolidated the money into the backpack and the pockets of his heavy coat and now he stood naked in front of a grimy mirror, examining his bruises and scrapes from the activity of the morning. He was beat-up to be sure, but in better condition than he expected to find himself at the end of this ride. More importantly, he’d done it. He’d ended Sid Sidorenko and removed the most passionate and headstrong of those hunting him. It was a good day’s work, and now he was looking forward to melting away for a while, living off grid and biding his time until he figured out where he would go from here.
The Townsend Government Services ScanEagle drone had remained overhead throughout Gentry’s extraction. Babbitt decided to stand down his strike team within minutes of Gentry’s entering the forest. Sid had too many goons out and about; the eight members of Trestle could have handled themselves against any three dozen Russian skinheads, but their objective was to kill Gentry, and Gentry was safely under surveillance. Trestle could easily wait for him to get clear of the Russians and then hit him later when he was alone.
The ScanEagle tracked its target to the truck, and then the first UAV switched out with a second, which followed the truck to the fourteen-foot boat and remained high overhead as the tender came along a ship sailing west in the Gulf of Finland. The camera onboard the drone picked up the name of the ship—
Helsinki Polaris
. The Townsend investigators ran the name of the boat through Vesseltracker, a database of the world’s ships, and this showed the
Helsinki Polaris
’s details and scheduled course, and from this they learned the ship was an 1,800-ton dry-goods cargo hauler and though Helsinki was its home port, it was Russian owned and Antigua and Barbuda flagged. It was on its way to deliver a shipment to Finland and would be calling in Mariehamn at eight A.M. the following morning.
“We’ve got him,” Babbitt said to Parks when everything was confirmed. “We’ll take him right there on the ship. Alert Trestle, let him know they will be doing an underway.”
“Yes, sir. We have the fast boats and all the equipment necessary for a marine assault in the port of St. Petersburg. We’ll fly them to Helsinki and get ahead of the
Polaris
.”
“Good.”
Parks asked, “What about Dead Eye? Should I stand him down?”
“Negative. Have him proceed to Mariehamn. I want him waiting at the port in case something goes wrong.”
The phone on Jeff Parks’s hip rang; he put it on speaker and took the call from one of his signal room’s communications staff.
“Go for Jeff.”
“Jeff, the pilot of the Beechcraft assigned to Dead Eye just called. The asset’s a no-show. He was supposed to be at the airport two hours ago. The pilot wants to know how long he should wait for him.”
Parks turned to Babbitt, who was already looking up at the ceiling in a show of frustration.
“I hate singletons,” Babbitt groaned. “Call him. He won’t answer, but do it anyway. I want everyone in the signal room to keep pushing data about the operation to Dead Eye’s phone. Even if he won’t talk to us, I want him to know what’s happening with the hunt.”
“And then?” asked Parks.
“And then we wait for Dead Eye to turn up in the AO. He wants Gentry as bad as we do. He’ll be there. He just won’t follow our game plan.”
Parks shook his head as he disconnected the call. “Prick.”
Babbitt said, “Part of managing individualists like Whitlock is knowing when to back off. Let him think he’s the brains of this operation; I don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is getting a picture of Court Gentry’s ugly mug in a pine box when this is all said and done.”
EIGHT
The woman was pretty, although she looked a little sad. She sat there, alone, deep in
By noon he stood in his small quarters in the rear of the ship; he’d consolidated the money into the backpack and the pockets of his heavy coat and now he stood naked in front of a grimy mirror, examining his bruises and scrapes from the activity of the morning. He was beat-up to be sure, but in better condition than he expected to find himself at the end of this ride. More importantly, he’d done it. He’d ended Sid Sidorenko and removed the most passionate and headstrong of those hunting him. It was a good day’s work, and now he was looking forward to melting away for a while, living off grid and biding his time until he figured out where he would go from here.
The Townsend Government Services ScanEagle drone had remained overhead throughout Gentry’s extraction. Babbitt decided to stand down his strike team within minutes of Gentry’s entering the forest. Sid had too many goons out and about; the eight members of Trestle could have handled themselves against any three dozen Russian skinheads, but their objective was to kill Gentry, and Gentry was safely under surveillance. Trestle could easily wait for him to get clear of the Russians and then hit him later when he was alone.
The ScanEagle tracked its target to the truck, and then the first UAV switched out with a second, which followed the truck to the fourteen-foot boat and remained high overhead as the tender came along a ship sailing west in the Gulf of Finland. The camera onboard the drone picked up the name of the ship—
Helsinki Polaris
. The Townsend investigators ran the name of the boat through Vesseltracker, a database of the world’s ships, and this showed the
Helsinki Polaris
’s details and scheduled course, and from this they learned the ship was an 1,800-ton dry-goods cargo hauler and though Helsinki was its home port, it was Russian owned and Antigua and Barbuda flagged. It was on its way to deliver a shipment to Finland and would be calling in Mariehamn at eight A.M. the following morning.
“We’ve got him,” Babbitt said to Parks when everything was confirmed. “We’ll take him right there on the ship. Alert Trestle, let him know they will be doing an underway.”
“Yes, sir. We have the fast boats and all the equipment necessary for a marine assault in the port of St. Petersburg. We’ll fly them to Helsinki and get ahead of the
Polaris
.”
“Good.”
Parks asked, “What about Dead Eye? Should I stand him down?”
“Negative. Have him proceed to Mariehamn. I want him waiting at the port in case something goes wrong.”
The phone on Jeff Parks’s hip rang; he put it on speaker and took the call from one of his signal room’s communications staff.
“Go for Jeff.”
“Jeff, the pilot of the Beechcraft assigned to Dead Eye just called. The asset’s a no-show. He was supposed to be at the airport two hours ago. The pilot wants to know how long he should wait for him.”
Parks turned to Babbitt, who was already looking up at the ceiling in a show of frustration.
“I hate singletons,” Babbitt groaned. “Call him. He won’t answer, but do it anyway. I want everyone in the signal room to keep pushing data about the operation to Dead Eye’s phone. Even if he won’t talk to us, I want him to know what’s happening with the hunt.”
“And then?” asked Parks.
“And then we wait for Dead Eye to turn up in the AO. He wants Gentry as bad as we do. He’ll be there. He just won’t follow our game plan.”
Parks shook his head as he disconnected the call. “Prick.”
Babbitt said, “Part of managing individualists like Whitlock is knowing when to back off. Let him think he’s the brains of this operation; I don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is getting a picture of Court Gentry’s ugly mug in a pine box when this is all said and done.”
EIGHT
The woman was pretty, although she looked a little sad. She sat there, alone, deep in
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