Near Miss

Chapter 54

Eight men gathered around the dining table in a Rockland hotel suite, a few miles from Islesboro — Dmitri Asimov’s inner circle.

Asimov rose from his place at the head of the table and rapped on the mahogany for attention. “I have news,” he said, “of a sort.”

“What does that mean?” someone asked.

“The second team returned two men short, and mission incomplete.”

“They were our best men.”

“No,” said Asimov, “the two in our first team were our best men.”

“How did this happen?”

“We sent the first two to take out Peter,” he said, “but the marksman, Rawls, stopped them.”

“So, we take out Rawls and go again with Greco.”

“The second team was sent to take out Rawls,” Asimov said. “It turns out that Rawls had more firepower at his disposal than we were prepared for. Our problem is that this is more of a military problem than a simple assassination. We need someone with a military background.”

“The Sarge,” someone said.

“Yes!”

“I’ll get in touch and get him up here.”

The phone rang, and the Sarge, who had actually been a captain before he was kicked out of the Marine Corps for trying and failing to murder his commanding officer, picked up the phone. “This is the sergeant.”

“You know who this is?” a velvety voice said.

“I believe I do.”

“I need you, and some more men, too.”

“How many men and where?”

“There’s a jet waiting for you at Teterboro Airport.”

“How many does it seat?”

“Eight, but I don’t think you’ll need that many.”

“How many targets?”

“Three, possibly more.”

“Sounds like you need a little recce before the heads start to roll. Where are you?”

“Rockland, Maine.”

“Is that where the targets are?”

“No, they’re on a nearby island, Islesboro.”

“So, we’re talking about at least one boat. How about available weapons?”

“Bring what you need. Ammo, too.”

“What else? An armored personnel carrier? A bazooka?”

“Equipment for night work.”

“When do you need this done?”

“Last Thursday.”

“Okay, let’s hold it right there. This has all the makings of a first-class fuckup. I’ll come up there and see what’s involved, then I’ll round up what I need.”

“This needs doing right away.”

“Then you’re talking to the wrong man. I don’t do right away. I just do it right. You want a referral? I know half a dozen people who can serve up a cock-up on demand, but then there’ll be bodies everywhere.”

“Oh, all right. Be at Teterboro, Atlantic Aviation, at nine tomorrow morning. We’ll go over everything after you get here, then you can order what you need.”

“See you later.” Sarge hung up.