The Extractor by Ethan Jones

Author:Ethan Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Knightsville Books
Published: 2021-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Özalp Grand Hotel

Turkey

Jack and Riley stopped behind the Özalp Grand Hotel, a four-story structure painted mostly white. Several vehicles were in the parking lot, and Jack began to study them. He wondered which one would be the best for the next stage of their operation. A couple of the SUVs seemed to be appropriate. Newer models, in good shape, and the owners weren’t around.

If Jack had the tools of the trade to steal a vehicle—a slide hammer and screwdrivers, or scanning devices and booster units for keyless entry vehicles—he would have been able, in a matter of seconds, to drive away with any of those vehicles. Even so, once the owners realized their vehicle was stolen, they’d involve the police. Jack and Riley’s operation was difficult enough as it was.

So he began to look around for another alternative. A couple of warehouses were being built across the highway from the hotel. Large heaps of cinderblocks, red bricks, and pallets were lined up all over the area. A couple of large trucks were refueling at the gas station nearby. A herd of about thirty sheep was grazing along the field of grass around the construction area, which had no fence or other barriers to keep people and animals out. A white-and-green cement truck was parked near the highway. Its driver, a man perhaps in his sixties wearing a red cap, was standing outside with his back against the front of the truck, smoking and reading a newspaper.

Jack tipped his head toward the driver. “How about we hitchhike?”

“In that one?”

“Yeah. No one would think we’d take a cement truck.”

Riley’s face formed a grin. “True. But would he want to take us along? And is he going in our direction?”

Jack returned the grin. “We’ll convince him to go.”

Riley gave Jack a cockeyed glance. “I don’t want to beat up an old man.”

“Old man? If he knew you’re calling him old, he’d beat you up. We’ll pay him for his service. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind making a couple of hundred dollars for easy work.”

Riley shrugged. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Wait here. Two men might be intimidating. I’ll see if I can convince him.”

Jack crossed over the portable walls dividing the sparsely traveled highway and approached the driver. He had the obligatory mustache and a tanned face full of creases. He was wearing a blue checkered shirt and navy-blue pants. When Jack was a few feet away, the driver gave him a curious glance. “Merhaba,” Jack said in a warm voice. Hello.

The driver nodded. “Merhaba.” He continued speaking in Turkish.

Jack didn’t understand any words. “Do you speak English? English?”

The driver peered closely at Jack and said, “You American?”

“You speak English?”

“Little English. You American?” He folded the paper and pulled on the cigarette he was holding between his thick, sausage-like fingers.

“Canadian.”

“Good. Canadian good. American good.” The man’s face formed a bright, toothy smile.

“Do you drive this thing?” Jack pointed at the truck.

“Yes, car is mine.”

“Can you take me to Çaldiran? Çaldiran?” Jack pointed toward the north, in the direction of the town.

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