Choke Point

SIXTEEN

Kozak knew he was lying facedown in the mud, and he understood that his brain must be short-circuiting like a laptop left in the rain, but he didn’t care. He was ten years old again, up in South Canaan, Pennsylvania, and he’d just tossed his Heddon Torpedo lure into the lake, hoping to catch a bass. He slowly worked the reel, drawing in more line, and the lure’s forward prop created a perfect bubbling noise and ripple across the surface. Pepper, a fellow bass-fishing aficionado, would’ve been proud of the city boy’s technique, but it wasn’t Pepper who’d been proud:

‘That’s really good, Johnny,’ said David, the college guy with the funny beard who’d served as Kozak’s camp counselor.

Behind them lay the lush grounds of Saint Tikhon’s Monastery and Seminary, and Kozak was there attending the annual one-week summer camp sponsored by the Diocese of Eastern Pennsylvania. Russian Orthodox Christians like himself attended services and learned about courage, good sportsmanship, and how to raid a girl’s dormitory to steal their pyjamas (the older boys called it a ‘panty raid’).

Suddenly, a bass came up behind the lure and exploded on it. Kozak’s line pulled taut, and he screamed, ‘I got one!’

But now he wasn’t pulling on a line; he was clutching Amy Weismann’s arm after she’d just shoved the engagement ring back into his hand.

They stood in her parents’ Manhattan duplex on the Upper West Side, near the window, and Kozak was trying to convince her that this was for the best, that he’d be gone for too long, that they were from two different worlds and had somehow fallen in love but it probably wasn’t meant to be.

‘How could you do this to me?’ she said through tears and clenched teeth. ‘You just led me on.’

‘No, I didn’t. But I know what’ll happen.’

‘How do you know?’

‘It’s not fair to you.’

Kozak sensed pressure on his shoulders, and for a second, he was floating, but then there it was, the feeling of the ground on his legs and rump, and when he opened his eyes, he realized he’d been propped up against a tree, and this wasn’t the duplex or even Central Park …

‘I didn’t mean to leave you, buddy! I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done it. But you’re okay! You’re going to be okay!’

He knew the guy talking to him. 30K. ‘Where’s Amy?’ he asked.

30K frowned. ‘Who’s Amy?’

‘My fiancée.’

‘Her? You dumped her a while ago.’

‘Oh, yeah. That’s right.’

‘Look, you’re good, dude, you’re good.’ 30K’s gaze swept over Kozak’s fatigues. ‘Don’t see any wounds. Probably just got the wind knocked out of you.’

‘What the hell happened?’

30K shrugged. ‘Grenade maybe. Looks like that tree hit you from behind.’

Kozak craned his head, the motion making the world turn sideways for a second before his vision cleared and he spotted the tree, cracked in half like a piece of balsa wood from a toy glider. ‘No, look —’

Near the broken tree lay a jagged piece of tin roof that had blown off one of the dry docks. It had struck the tree like some oversize ninja dart and knocked it down, into Kozak.

30K’s eyes widened. ‘Damn, that thing could’ve taken your head off.’

Kozak nodded as a chill rushed up his spine.

A sudden cracking of more fire sent 30K groaning to his feet. ‘We gotta go.’ He seized Kozak by the wrists and hauled him up.

‘I got this,’ said Kozak, but then a realization sent him into panic mode. ‘The remote? Where’s the remote?’ His eyes probed the mud, past the rotting brown fronds, until he spotted the slight trace of something rectangular barely peaking out from the sludge.

He wrenched the device from the ooze, wiped it off, and breathed a sigh. The drone was still wheeling overhead on autopilot, the signal full strength. ‘Okay. Ready.’

‘I’m sorry, Captain, but he’s not coming back,’ said Pepper, removing his palms from Delgado’s chest and letting his gaze sweep the jungle as Jiménez’s men charged up, forming a perimeter around them.

Ross stared at Delgado, cursed, then began shaking his head in disgust.

Captain Jiménez himself hustled up to them and dropped down beside Ross. ‘The area’s secure. I’ll have my men search the bodies.’

Ross glanced at him. ‘Good.’

‘Will he make it?’ Jiménez asked, his gaze riveted on Delgado.

Ross practically leapt on the CIA agent and began doing more compressions. ‘Come on, you, you son of a bitch!’ he screamed. ‘I didn’t come all this way for you to die on me!’

Pepper shifted around and put his hand on Delgado’s neck, checking for a carotid pulse. He waited, then held up his palm.

After a few more compressions, Ross finally surrendered and glanced up at Jiménez, who shared an equal look of helplessness and frustration.

No, this wasn’t the first time Pepper had been on a search and rescue mission only to have the package expire on them. And it wouldn’t be the last. The anger was always palpable. You’d spend months going over every decision you made, second-guessing yourself, considering all the what-ifs, then finally trying to justify why you had failed so you’d do better next time.

Ross was a good man, and he didn’t need this shit. Not now. Not when he was just starting out … It was just bad luck, Pepper thought. That was all. Bad luck.