Agent of Influence: A Thriller (52 page)

             
The shuffle of shoes behind her stopped. A throat cleared. “Can I help you?”

Chapter 3

              “Anna! It truly is good to see you again. You are lucky I like to work late on Fridays. It’s one of my habits from the States that I haven’t been able to shake,” Joseph Barnes said enthusiastically as he dropped his towel on the floor and plopped into his orthopedic back chair. His computer booted up quickly. His desk was pristine, an oasis of calm amidst the rest of the building which looked unusually messy and cluttered for a bank.

             
“This is your cubicle? I must admit that the way you talked at dinner a few nights ago I was expecting something a little…classier?” Anna pointed disapprovingly at his desk which was against one of the exterior walls of the building, sitting opposite the vacant teller stations. The bank did not look very secure, as everything was made of wood.
Nothing in here that will stop a bullet.

             
“Snobbery from a beach bum hiding out in the Caribbean? I love it. Sorry, but this is it. San Pedro is a very safe town. Don’t need any fancy buildings here. The money is secure. That’s all that matters.” Joseph pinched his water flecked t-shirt, flapping it in an attempt to dry it. The chilled air of the bank made goose bumps visible up and down his arms.

“Now, what can I help you with? You decide you want to purchase something on the island or has my charm finally caught up with you and you want to sleep with me? I know you cannot afford the real estate prices here so I am hoping for the latter!”

              “As stimulating as our conservation was the other night I will have to pass.” Anna reached into her beach bag and tossed an ID badge on the table.

“Shit,” Joseph muttered.

“Sorry for the deception but I’m actually FBI and I have a few questions for you regarding a murder investigation.” The silenced Sig Sauer pistol appeared in her right hand and she dropped the beach bag on the floor.

             
Joseph tensed, staring at the weapon intently.  A Caribbean banker knew his clientele preferred anonymity for a variety of reasons both legitimate and not so.

             
“Well, this is definitely a surprise. I can assure you neither I nor any of my clients have killed anyone,” he responded airily. His hands moved slowly towards the keyboard positioned underneath his desk.

“That being said, since when do FBI agents question potential witnesses at the point of a gun?”

              “Keep your hands visible please,” Anna said sharply as she scooped up the badge and dropped it back into her bag.

“Do you really think a fake badge is going to make me talk? Who are you really? CIA? DEA? Or some other new alphabet soup agency the
U.S. government spits out every year?”

“The badge is a joke, but I’m hoping the real gun may get your attention.” She ignored his second question, pointed at the floor beneath his desk, and discharged a single bullet, splintering the wood.

Joseph jumped, the wheels of his chair ramming against the wall.

Anna reached into the pocket of her swimsuit cover and dropped a surveillance photo on the desk.

“Seen this man recently?”

He cautiously rolled his chair forward; straining his neck as if afraid the item may jump up and bite him.  “Doesn’t look familiar to me,” he replied confidently.

“Look closer,” Anna demanded. She motioned with her pistol.

He inched his chair towards her to hover over the picture, his right hand reaching to grasp it. In a flash his left hand grabbed the framed picture on his desk, flinging it at her while at the same time springing forward over his desk like an eel coming out of its hole in the coral reef that was just blocks away. His left hand grabbed her right, holding the pistol towards the ceiling as they rolled in a heap towards the floor.
             

             
The simple feint bought him a few seconds as they tumbled backwards. Anna recovered her composure as her back touched the floor. Utilizing his momentum she brought her knee up in a short, rapid fire burst, delivering a blow to his groin as they bounced up off the floor in a flurry of motion. The line of defense did its trick and he let out a short cry of pain, releasing his grip slightly. Anna was outweighed by thirty pounds in any struggle she was involved in but a strike to the groin along with her judo skills, and lightness on her feet equalized most fights.

             
Patience. Wait for your opportunity.
All four hands locked together, as if they were an uncoordinated couple attempting to dance. Bending her knees she swung her right leg in a quick circular motion. He arced backward, avoiding the blow but it loosened his grip on her unarmed hand, partially freeing her from the awkward wrestling match. He grunted in frustration, throwing a quick punch that landed on her shoulder.

             
Her knees buckled as she dropped towards the floor once more, the banker now mounting his assault as he continued trying mightily to wrench the pistol out of her grasp. Sensing weakness he rose up to his full height for better leverage, striking downward with another punch, this one launching towards her jaw. Anna inhaled, arching her back downwards until she touched the hardwood floor to avoid the knockout punch. His torso now exposed ever so briefly she used the floor as a launching pad, her legs springing forward, counterclockwise, and drilling him squarely in the chest. He crashed into the floor, his head cracking the ground as she was simultaneously flung upward by the momentum until she landed on top of him like a lover straddling her man. He let out a short scream, the blow to the head stunning him for a moment as his torso was sandwiched between the floor and Anna’s legs now wrapped around him in a vicious squeeze.

Chapter 4

              As his eyes came into focus, Anna, a silenced Sig Sauer pistol in each hand, applied downward pressure on each of his shoulders. He squirmed in pain.

“Never thought you’d be straddled by a woman quite this way, huh? Make a move and you get a bullet in each shoulder. Got it?”

              “How the hell did you…,” Joseph stared at the second pistol that was now in her left hand and his eyes then moved towards the beach bag askew on the floor beside them.

“You never reached in that bag unless…You grabbed it during our little tumble onto the floor?” Joseph stared at her in disbelief and pondered if it was possible that he was actually knocked unconscious.

“Who the hell are you?” The acrobatic move still did not seem possible to him.

“I ask the questions. Don’t f with me and you will live. You can trust me there. I’m tired of killing people. I just want some answers.”

“Now, where is Solomon?” She thought it best to get right to the point. Her partner was waiting for her.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Joseph said indignantly. He barely finished the sentence before the silenced pistol loosed a bullet through his right shoulder and lodged in the wood plank floor.

“Argh. You little bitch! Ow!” He screamed as she now applied pressure to the wound.

             
“Where?” Anna demanded.

“What does it matter to you? He’s small potatoes. Just a former enforcer for the Columbian drug lords!”

              “He also is wanted for killing agents of the FBI and CIA on US soil who were friends of mine.”

“You’re lying.”

              “Think so? He is also wanted for aiding and abetting two terrorists.” It was a new threat that tended to work well. Drug dealers were often ignored by the authorities due to time and money constraints. Terrorists used the bolder ones to move money around. Threaten a small fry in the market and they sometimes got nervous.

Joseph looked unsure of himself for the first time as he realized the potential enormity of the situation. It made more sense than a DEA agent looking for a drug suspect. She was taking too many risks with her assault on him for something so minor. The wheels of justice in the islands of the
Caribbean were still lax and greased by bribes. You could easily find yourself in jail if you made the wrong provincial governor angry. Many islands had vastly improved in order to attract more foreign money, but the threat was still there, especially for outsiders so it would not make sense for her to run that risk unless Solomon was in deep. He made a quick decision.

             
“I helped him transfer some money into Mexico. He was looking to hook up with one of the cartels there. Drug wars are starting to turn nasty. It’s the new Columbia.”

“That’s better. Why did he choose you to do the transfers?”

              “We’re a small bank. Off most people’s maps. He liked that. Plus I know the ropes around here,” he said with a hint of pride.

             
“You’re former life as a DEA agent probably helps to?”

“How the hell did you know?” The smirk of pride vanished quickly.

She ignored the question and continued her pursuit. “Where in Mexico did he go?”

“
Merida.”

“When did he leave
Belize?”

“Two weeks ago. At least that is when he said he was leaving”

Ten minutes later she had used the password he gave her to get all the information on Solomon’s banking activities off his computer as well as the name of a realtor he gave to Solomon. Joseph was unconscious on the floor, his wound bound as best she could for the moment. She would call in the robbery to the police shortly. She shot out the cameras, wiped down any surface she touched, and took some cash to make the robbery look a little more real.  She cautiously stepped out into the dusty, deserted road, the late afternoon soon baking the rows of dilapidated buildings.

She was one step closer to her goal.
Can I get to him before Jamal
? Solomon was morally bankrupt, a former spy, and a former bodyguard for drug lords and terrorists, but he was almost certainly being hunted by an even more dangerous creature; the former secret service agent/Navy Seal/now terrorist known as Jamal. A beast of a man who in their last encounter not only almost ended Anna’s life, but nearly succeeded in unleashing nuclear Armageddon on the United States. A seasoned veteran at just a shade past thirty years old Anna had survived longer than most in the dirty business of espionage, and there were few things left that scared her. Jamal fit nicely into that small category.

To Be Continued….