Russian Holiday, an American Assassin's story (Paladine Political Thriller Series Book 2) by Kenneth Eade

Author:Kenneth Eade [Eade, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Times Square Publishing
Published: 2016-12-17T05:00:00+00:00

***

Robert knew there was no way he was getting out of this latest assignment. It would have to be done. What he would do after this was undecided. He continued with his preparations despite the complications on both sides.

Day by day, he left his apartment with a police tail on his ass. They had not yet found where Robert garaged his motorcycle and, if they did, it was game over. At that point, he wouldn’t be able to move it. So, he played a constant game of hide-and-seek with the cops, which slowed the entire process down. Leaving his apartment, Robert used standard counter-surveillance to escape the tail, and then descended into a metro station two blocks away to catch the number 10 line to connect to the number 9, instead of using the station right on his own street. From there, he exited another two stations away from the garage and walked the rest of the way. Eventually, they would beef up their surveillance efforts, so Robert changed his patterns frequently.

When he finally reached the garage, he took off on the motorcycle toward Quai de la Rapée, to do his own surveillance on Mahmud Shamoun. There appeared to be no break in Shamoun’s security force. They guarded him wherever he went, and he was never in the open. His suited goons surrounded him at all times, providing the perfect cocoon for his ingress and egress in every open space.

As usual, Shamoun headed for the Paris suburb of St. Denis, and, per his habitude, he and his group frequented a local coffee shop near the run-down public housing units known in France as “HLM” (Habitationà Loyer Modéré). Robert was starting to notice a pattern of hordes of Arab youths flocking to the coffee shops whenever Shamoun was there.

Is he a recruiter or what? I have to find out what’s going on in there.

To observe, he had to be where Shamoun would be before he got there, so as not to cause notice to himself. Based on Shamoun’s patterns, the odds were about 1-in-4 that he would be sitting in the correct coffee shop at the right time. Robert rented a small dive in the area so as not to be a stranger in their midst. He used the little apartment as a home base, going home only at night. That way, he could let the dog out at night and again early the next morning, leaving the bulk of the day to concentrate on his subject.

Robert stashed his motorcycle at a parking near Place de Clichy and rode the metro to a different station in St. Denis every day. His dark skin and hair, along with his prowess in the language of Arabia made blending in not an onerous task. Robert was a dead-ringer for one of “them,” which meant he could run in their circles with a minimum of suspicion. Being a dead ringer, however, didn’t prevent the risk of ending up really dead himself.

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