JET - Legacy by Russell Blake

Author:Russell Blake [Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Murder, Vigilante Justice, Spies & Politics, Assassinations, Conspiracies, Terrorism, Thriller, Thrillers, Pulp
Amazon: B00C5VW5SM
Publisher: Reprobatio Ltd
Published: 2014-01-13T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Jerusalem, Israel

Ben stood, scarcely half awake, at the counter of the breakfast bar, his hair matted on one side of his head from sleep, a dusting of stubble on his face. He pulled his robe around him as he sipped steaming coffee from his oversized mug, and considered his plans for the day. Rachel was still slumbering in the bedroom, dozing after a late night of frolicking and boozing, and he knew that she wouldn’t wake for hours – just in time for a late brunch somewhere expensive. It was the price of admission, he understood, and one well worth paying, given how his life had turned around since he’d started his freewheeling new ways.

He strolled to the living room and punched a button on the remote resting on the stylish glass coffee table. The fifty-inch flat panel television on the far wall flickered to life and he flipped through the channels until he got the business news, then collapsed onto one of the black Italian leather sofas as he lowered the volume to a faint hum. His head was pounding from the beginnings of a hangover, but he figured an hour at the gym would banish the worst of it, and then cocktails with Rachel over brunch would deal with any remnants of the prior night’s excesses.

The knock at his door startled him. His condo building was a secure affair, with a twenty-four-hour attendant in the lobby, and nobody could get in without a call to the tenant first. Ben stood, feeling slightly queasy, and carried his cup to the entrance, where he peered through the peephole. Three suited men stood in the hall with serious expressions.

“Yes? Who is it?” he asked, uneasy at the unexpected intrusion.

“Ben Eshel?”

“Who’s asking, and how did you get in?”

“Mossad, Mr. Eshel. Open up. We need to speak with you.” The speaker sounded annoyed, as if unused to being questioned.

“Mossad? What… let’s see some identification,” Ben demanded, mind whirling. What did the Mossad want with him? Perhaps it had something to do with the devices? Or perhaps they were going to chastise him for spending so freely…

One of the men held up an identity card, and Ben studied the photograph and official crest. He truthfully didn’t have the faintest idea what ID the Mossad issued, but the man’s demeanor wasn’t friendly, and a part of Ben intuited that it would be a bad idea to stall any longer than necessary.

“Okay. Just a second,” Ben said as he took a final pull on his coffee before twisting the lock open.

The door swung wide as the men pushed their way in, and Ben was taken aback, knocked off balance.

“Wha–”

One of the men punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, and the room swayed as he fought for breath; and then everything dimmed and he blacked out.

When Ben came to, he was bound to a chair in a small room. His head felt like someone had played soccer with it, and his mouth was dry to the point he had a hard time swallowing.

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