Free Without Options by Trevor Scott Page A

said.
    Shaking her head, she said, “No. Jake won’t trust anyone but me.”
    “There isn’t anyone?”
    “Not directly. But any help behind the scenes would be greatly appreciated. If you could direct some assets to find out who’s trying to kill Jake. . .” Her words drifted off with a smile.
    “Already on it.”
    “Outstanding.” She started to leave but stopped before opening the door. “Oh, and I could use a ride with a diplomatic pouch”
    “The jet is being fueled on the tarmac as we speak. Take whatever guns and communications equipment you need.”
    She smiled and left him alone in the room. Jesus, she looked just as good going as she did coming. And not once did she mention her husband. Interesting.
    He looked over the two briefing papers again trying to gain further insight into this strange case. Toni had been right. What had Jake gotten himself into this time? Sure he’d made many enemies over the years. But hits were normally ordered because someone represented a threat in some way. A threat to ideology. A threat to continued wealth. Yet, revenge was also a great motivator. He had a feeling Toni would find the answer soon enough.

8
    Driving much of the night, unsure where to go or what to do, stopping and going erratically with no great desire to show any logical pattern, Jake crossed into Germany nearly an hour ago and drove to Garmish-Partenkirchen, the ski resort that hosted the 1936 Winter Olympics. Jake had skied the Zugspitze, Germany’s highest mountain, many times and was quite familiar with Garmish. But he wasn’t sure why he’d come here. Maybe he felt safe here. Maybe he wanted to stay in familiar surroundings. He was now just a mountain pass away from crossing back into Austria and down to Innsbruck. More than anything, he needed some rest and some time to think. On the drive the night before, he’d stopped in a few isolated areas to rest his eyes, but the cold mountain air had made him get on the road again. Once getting to Garmish, though, he couldn’t check into a hotel or gasthaus at five in the morning. Instead, he’d found a bakery with a coffee bar and started sucking down the thick black brew, while pounding down a couple of pastries. He considered driving north to Munich and hanging out there for a while. He’d worked for years in Germany as an officer in the CIA. Since quitting the Agency years ago, he’d spent most of the time living in Europe, mostly Austria, but he’d crossed over into Germany many times. Which made him think about what the Serb had said, saying a man named Gunter Schecht had put out the hit on him. That, of course, was impossible. Jake had shot the man dead along the Rhine River in Bonn, Germany. Somebody was using the man’s name to screw with Jake. But who? Who knew Jake had killed the man? That could be a long list, since anyone with access to that incident would know. Over the years Jake had worked with Gunter’s niece, Alexandra, an officer with BND, German Federal Intelligence Service. Maybe Jake had found his direction.
    Leaving the bakery, a coffee to go in his right hand and the keys in his left, Jake stopped when he saw the green and white German Polizei car parked behind the Audi A4. He sipped coffee and then continued forward, past the Audi and past the BMW Polizei car—a younger officer inside on the computer. Damn it.
    Without thinking, Jake rounded the back of the Polizei car, came up along the driver’s side, swung open the door and dumped his coffee on the man’s lap. The Polizei officer jerked his body back against the seat, and when he did, Jake punched the man in the face with a back fist, knocking him out.
    Hurry now, Jake. He checked the computer and saw that the officer had already called in the Audi A4. Damn it.
    Over the radio, dispatch was asking about the car.
    Then the screen flipped to a wanted person notice for Germany and Austria, searching for Jake. He was screwed now. He had to move fast.
    Glancing about the