ShadowShot : L'enfant Guerrier Read online

  “I’m listening. What would I be doing exactly?”

  The timing was good. I could use a job. I tried not to appear to be too eager. I thought maybe he was a shop owner and needed a clerk or bartender. His clarification stunned me.

  “You would work acquiring information for me. You would continue living the same as you do now. You would attend parties, social events, and private gatherings. You will be provided with people to connect with. You learn what you can and report. That’s all. Keep quiet. Don’t ask too many questions. You will be compensated generously.”

  My alarms started going off and I became paranoid. I made a quick decision to end the meeting.

  “George thank you but I’m not interested. I’ll just be leaving you gentleman now. Nice meeting you.”

  I stood to leave. I was disappointed with George. This time the stranger glanced at George. George still wasn’t’ smiling. He nodded at the stranger and looked back at me.

  “Jack, just sit down and hear what he has to say. You can trust me.”

  I hesitated, leaning on the table with both hands. I looked closely at both men. George had never given me reason not to trust him, but I started to suspect there was more about him than I knew. I decided I wanted to know more, regardless of whether I took the job. I became a little more assertive. “Who are you, and who do you work for?”

  “I work for an organization that works for the United States government. We know that you were a Merck. It is against the law for an American citizen to fight in a foreign army. I could have you extradited and imprisoned.”

  “I was a truck driver for a few months. Big deal.”

  George piped in. “Jack they can make it look as bad as they want. Believe me, they don’t care if you were a mercenary or not.”

  “That’s right Jack. We don’t care. It’s not important to us. We need you for a job. Your country needs you.”

  “George, do you work for them also?” I asked directly.

  George responded,

  “Yes Jack. I’m sorry but it’s true. We need you.”

  Now I was pissed off with George. He had set me up and put me in this position. I didn’t like it one bit. I told the pair, “Look I don’t want any trouble. I’m not the right guy for this.”

  The stranger with the dark glasses leaned in and hushed his voice.

  “One more thing, we know that there’s a very nasty Belgian Merck out to tag you. We would like to hear more about why he’s after you.”

  There was no point in trying to lie, but I wasn’t going let him have any more information than need be. I just told him there was a mission that didn’t go down completely right. I was the driver. Several guys were killed including the Belgium’s brother. It was no one’s fault. I guess he put the blame on the survivors that his younger brother didn’t make it out. I asked the stranger why he cared.

  “Because he’s here in Paris and he is getting close to you.”

  “How do you know these things?” I prodded.

  “We make it our business to know these things. We are in the industry of information. This Belgium is like a bull in a china shop. He has been making noise around town, roughing up locals asking about you. Say yes to this job and the first thing that we will do is take care of him. This is all very low-level stuff.”

  “When you say take care of him…?”

  “Just leave that to us.”

  I was jammed. These guys were really good. Extorted with threat of criminal prosecution and then offered a helping hand. I could probably still say no but not without consequence. I would have to keep my wits up. This job could get complicated. I told the stranger to tell me more.

  “You’ll have some special training. The pay is $2000 a month. We will get you a nice apartment and a car. Your extra expenses will be paid. The Belgium will be handled and nothing will be said about you being a mercenary. He reached into his pocket and took out a fat envelope. This is a $4000 retainer. George will provide the targets, take care of the introductions and get you to the locations. All you have to do is be yourself and collect intelligence.”

  I knew I really didn’t have a choice. I tried to be cool and so I said,

  “Well you should have just told me about the money in the first place!”

  “Great, welcome to the team! I will be leaving you now. It’s been a pleasure. You won’t be meeting me again. George will take over from here, and have a good day.”

  The stranger stood up, dusting off his hat and placing his coat over his arm. He shook my hand again and left. More cologne.

  George looked a little sheepish. He asked if I was pissed off with him.

  “Well I think I should be. You could have talked to me about this first.”

  “There really wasn’t time Jack. The Belgium is getting close. It had to go down this way. Look, we work for a Company that works for the United States government. We do jobs that they don’t want to get near. We are patriots and always do the best thing for our country. I know you love France and Europe as I do, but we are both loyal Americans. These are hard times. There are many problems since the war ended. The communists are creating all kinds of trouble, and information is how we stay ahead of the game. If we find out about something after it happens, it’s too late.”

  I stopped him. “George you’ve convinced me. Now when do I start work?”

  “First thing to do is to come with me back to your apartment. Clean out only what you really need; just the absolute most precious things that you have. Leave the rest. You will be provided with all new clothes, furniture, and other necessities. We don’t know when the Belgium might show up.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go back to the apartment if he’s that close.”

  “We’re okay. We have several men right now watching the place. Just hurry.”

  When we got to my little apartment, I ran upstairs. George said he would wait in the car below. I didn’t really know if I could believe how close this Belgium was, but there was no point in taking any chances. I tossed what was important to me in a suitcase.

  Before I went back out, I had to make a phone call. I didn’t want to use my phone so I went to the landlord down a flight of stairs. I asked if I could use his phone. I said I would be gone awhile and paid for two month’s rent.

  I dialed the phone and a man answered. I asked if I was speaking to Henry.

  “Yes it’s me.”

  I requested that he relay the code. I had to fulfill my promise to the Frenchman from the Congo. I told him I was leaving Belgium. That was the code that the Belgium’s brother was looking for us. Henry would call the Frenchman’s sister and she would get hold of him. I hoped. I was glad that he was there to take the call.

  We drove to a private airport and got into a small plane. George already had a suitcase packed. I commented. “You were pretty confident that I was going to say yes?”

  “You thought you could say no?”

  Now that I was certain that George had been manipulating me I wanted to know more. I asked a question I think I already knew the answer to.

  “Angeline, she works for you? Maybe I can see her again?”

  By now we were taxiing out to the main runway. George found his belt and buckled himself into the seat. He looked out his little window and started to confess.

  “You won’t see her again Jack. The night you met her was all planned. I selected you for this job. From what I knew about you, I knew you would benefit from her expertise. The man who works this job will be circulating in a sophisticated, high- class social world. My team thought that you needed to have more experience. That’s what she does. She’s an educator. Yes, she works for the same company, but not for me.”

  “For Christ sakes George, you have been grooming me all along! I thought you liked me! More importantly, I thought she liked me!”

  Needless to say I was feeling very betrayed. I was angry at the violation of my trust. I was feeling confused and a little pathetic. George became serious and looked directly a
t me.

  “I do like you Jack. That is why you are here. People can’t apply for a job with the Company. They are handpicked; chosen because of special skills, personalities, positions in life and other reasons. When I first met you I knew that you were just right. I had to spend time observing you. My reputation and job are at stake if I choose wrong.”

  “Why me? What makes me so qualified? I don’t have any special skills.”

  “Yes Jack you do. You’re a good-looking young man, fit, smart, outgoing with a sense of humor. Most important you are a gentleman. You easily attract women of all ages and that’s a big plus for what you’ll be doing. Jack, you have more skills than you know.”

  “What about Angeline? That wasn’t even her real name! She’s similar to a prostitute?”

  “No, no, not at all Jack. She’s a teacher, and a fine one. A real lady. Did you enjoy your time with her?”

  “Of course, but it wasn’t real!”

  “It was real Jack! In her report she said you were extraordinary. The most exceptional man she ever met. She is a professional and keeps her feelings locked away.

  “George, did she teach you also?”

  “No Jack. I wasn’t that lucky. When I was selected we didn’t have a recruitment protocol. I was put to work without any training. It’s a wonder I survived.”

  “George is there anything else that you’d like to tell me? Secrets I should know?”

  “That’s all for now Jack. You will learn more in time. The Company has as many secrets as people that have been touched by it.”

  When we got to Spain, we drove up in the mountains to a very lush villa outside of a small village. George got me settled and introduced me to a “Handler”. After breakfast the next morning, he said he had to be on the road. He would check in with me at the end of the week.

  I spent time brushing up on French and Spanish. I practiced etiquette, proper dress, and cooking. I learned a new memory technique to remember names and information. I practiced basic code, driving skills and some martial arts. I asked my handler one day if I would need some more brushing up on pleasing women.

  He laughed and said, “From what I understand you’ve already passed that class with flying colors.”

  I was learning that when it came to lovemaking and sex, the less I had, the less I needed. The more I had, the more I wanted.

  George called me in about a week. He said, “Good news my boy. Your problem with the Belgium has been terminated.”

  “What do you mean terminated?”

  “It seems that he had a most unusual accident and did not survive.”

  “Are you sure about this George?”

  “Oh yes. You can count on it.”

  My training at the villa lasted about two months. George arrived one day and took me back to Paris. He told me my apartment was prepared. I liked it. It was lush. It had a mini heated pool and its own private parking. There was a sports car waiting for me, and a new motorcycle. George mentioned that he thought I’d really like the pool.

  “It’s handy for relaxing a woman and getting her to talk.”

  We both laughed. Then George left me alone in my not so humble abode. I went to the liquor cabinet, which he had thoughtfully stocked for me and opened a bottle of wine. I sank into an overstuffed armchair, and let my thoughts run back to my very first time in Paris.

  I had rented a tiny room in the Metro Felix Four District. It wasn’t much bigger than an American truck camper. The kitchen sink was actually in the shower stall. It was a place to hang my hat and after all, I was in Paris.

  My new home was a seven room flat near the Jardin de Luxembourg. The flat was something to behold. It was located near my favorite statue of Bacchus. He stood in his entire splendor besotted with wine, women and song. More importantly, it was close to the famous Café Le Dome and La Coupole where there was a lot of the action. I remembered my mother and grandmother telling me of these locations. Naturally, I felt at home there.

  Thus started my career as a spy; or more accurately an Intelligence professional. Strangely, I felt better that I had been trained by Angeline, and that I had graduated her training; as opposed to her leaving because she didn’t want to be with me anymore. It’s odd how I can rationalize things in my mind.

  All things considered, two of my two biggest problems had been eliminated. George said that the Belgium Merck was not a direct threat to the U.S. He was however, dealing in arms, which was not appreciated by our government. I was making a lot of money doing nothing and serving my country. At that point, I can’t say that I had done anything of any importance.

  I got word to the Frenchman that there would be no more problems with the Belgium. I hoped that George was correct. The next six months went along very smoothly. I guess I was mostly given low-level assignments that involved getting information from women. I certainly didn’t complain about it. Although some of the ladies were, oh let’s say, not ones that I would have normally chosen to entertain.

  Home base was Paris. My travels took me to Spain, Portugal, Italy, and Greece. Even though almost all expenses were paid, I still managed to spend money of my own.

  My mother and grandmother lived a modest life but they lacked for nothing. Perhaps they missed the glamour they once knew. I would send money home to make sure that they had some extra when needed. I did not however, explain how I was getting it. I told them I was working in the movies as an extra. I always intended at some point to see if they would want to visit.

  When I broached the subject to my mother she said she would talk to grandmother. She didn’t think that she would really want to go as she was getting pretty old and was very frail. My mother said frankly that the European part of their lives was behind them now. Maybe there was too much sorrow there. A short time later my grandmother passed away. I had a hard time then. I really loved her. She was an incredible old woman. I wished that I could have had time to get there to be with her. I would always regret that my whole life.

  Most of my assignments went smoothly. My employers seemed to be satisfied with my work. As George had said, it was all low-level work. But I guess it needed to be done. There were a few things, however, that continued to haunt the back of my mind.

  First was something from the past. Specifically the raid in the Congo when I was a Merck, kept me up at night. I remembered the woman and her two children who had been killed. I couldn’t get the picture of her terrified look out of my head. Desperately, helplessly, she had tried to protect her children. I was glad I killed the Belgium Merck. Sure, he tried to kill me first, but I would have been glad to kill him anyway. Sometimes I had dreams about it.

  I was also bothered with an aspect of my current job. I tried convincing myself that I should not be ashamed for being dishonest with the people that I was meeting. Even if it was only a casual friendship, I was still betraying their trust. I tried to always find out what I needed to know without directly asking. Getting people to talk about themselves is easy. I would show interest and ask leading, open-ended questions. People will always brag or complain about their lives. I consoled myself by rationalizing that the information I was gathering was important to my government. I was probing people who were a threat to the U.S.

  Another thing that I found disturbing at times and would also have dreams about was something that I didn’t understand at all. Sometimes the dreams would be that I had done something in my past that was bad, or made me ashamed. It was one of those dreams when you wake up you say to yourself, “What was that about?”

  Then there would be the times when I would wake myself with the name Angeline. It was true. She was hard to get out of my head. I was doing the best I could to put our affair, if you want to call it that, or my classes in how to treat a woman the way she deserves, in the proper perspective. They say the fastest way to get over a woman is to get on top of another one. I have certainly been doing just that. Still there was no one like Angeline, or whatever her name really is. It always seemed in my life that just
when things were settling into a routine and seemed to be going along well, a change would come along.

  I suppose in some young man’s way, I started to think of this being a permanent job. I pictured myself as the distinguished older gentleman with gray hair floating around the world serving my country with distinction. Eventually when George retired, I imagined taking over his job, whatever that was.

  Then along came the Scandinavian job. I never carried a weapon. There was never a need for one. When I left Africa I did manage to bring my 97 12gauge. It was a breakdown model and I kept it in my apartment. Of course I had a couple of throwing knives that I would practice with when possible.

  For this next job, George had a present for me. He produced a Walther PPK. I always appreciated a nice gun and I was pleased, but curious why the present. Europe wasn’t exactly like the Wild West. In Spain for example, to be caught with any kind of handgun was an automatic death sentence under Franco’s rule. I suppose he was afraid of being assassinated. George simply said that he thought I might want to take it with me, as this next assignment was of a different nature. I was not sure what he meant by that. It made me a little uncomfortable. One of my courses in Spain was learning to read people’s facial expressions. I tried my new skill out on George, but was unable to read between the lines. Then again, George was a master. So I removed the Walther from the ankle holster, checked the action, which I liked smooth and clean, and thanked him. I would familiarize myself with it later that day.

  10

  WHATEVER IT TAKES

  Early 1963

  The man that I needed to check out was a Scandinavian diplomat spying for the Russians. He was also a homosexual, but not one that you would know by his looks he was a workout freak and buffed. I was cautioned not to underestimate him. He could be dangerous. That was why it was better to have a gun and not need it, than to need it and not have it, as the saying goes.

  I said “I hope you don’t think even for one moment that I’m going to get familiar in that way with him.”

  George just laughed and said, “No of course not. It won’t be necessary. We just want you to feel him out. No pun intended ho-ho.”