Hour of the Jackals Read online




  HOUR OF THE JACKALS

  Emil Daynov

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2019 Emil Daynov.

  This edition published in 2019 by BLKDOG Publishing.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  www.blkdogpublishing.com

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  DAY ONE

  Part 1

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  Part 2

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  Part 3

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  Part 4

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  DAY TWO

  Part 5

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  PART 6

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  PART 7

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  DAY THREE

  Part 9

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  Part 10

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  Part 11

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  PART 12

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  DAY FOUR

  PART 13

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  PART 14

  CHAPTER 83

  CHAPTER 84

  CHAPTER 85

  CHAPTER 86

  CHAPTER 87

  CHAPTER 88

  CHAPTER 89

  CHAPTER 90

  PART 15

  CHAPTER 91

  CHAPTER 92

  CHAPTER 93

  CHAPTER 94

  CHAPTER 95

  CHAPTER 96

  CHAPTER 97

  CHAPTER 98

  CHAPTER 99

  CHAPTER 100

  PART 16

  CHAPTER 101

  CHAPTER 102

  CHAPTER 103

  CHAPTER 104

  CHAPTER 105

  CHAPTER 106

  CHAPTER 107

  CHAPTER 108

  PART 17

  CHAPTER 109

  CHAPTER 110

  CHAPTER 111

  CHAPTER 112

  CHAPTER 113

  CHAPTER 114

  CHAPTER 115

  CHAPTER 116

  CHAPTER 117

  DAY FIVE

  PART 18

  CHAPTER 118

  CHAPTER 119

  CHAPTER 120

  CHAPTER 121

  CHAPTER 122

  CHAPTER 123

  CHAPTER 124

  PART 19

  CHAPTER 125

  CHAPTER 126

  CHAPTER 127

  CHAPTER 128

  CHAPTER 129

  CHAPTER 130

  CHAPTER 131

  CHAPTER 132

  CHAPTER 133

  CHAPTER 134

  PART 20

  CHAPTER 135

  CHAPTER 136

  CHAPTER 137

  CHAPTER 138

  CHAPTER 139

  CHAPTER 140

  PART 21

  CHAPTER 141

  CHAPTER 142

  CHAPTER 143

  CHAPTER 144

  CHAPTER 145

  CHAPTER 146

  CHAPTER 147

  CHAPTER 148

  CHAPTER 149

  PART 22

  CHAPTER 150

  CHAPTER 151

  CHAPTER 152

  CHAPTER 153

  CHAPTER 154

  CHAPTER 155

  CHAPTER 156

  CHAPTER 157

  PART 23

  CHAPTER 158

  CHAPTER 159

  CHAPTER 160

  CHAPTER 161

  CHAPTER 162

  CHAPTER 163

  CHAPTER 164

  CHAPTER 165

  CHAPTER 166

  CHAPTER 167

  CHAPTER 168

  DAY SIX

  PART 24

  CHAPTER 169

  CHAPTER 170

  CHAPTER 171

  CHAPTER 172

  CHAPTER 173

  CHAPTER 174

  CHAPTER 175

  CHAPTER 176

  CHAPTER 177

  CHAPTER 178

  PART 25

  CHAPTER 179

  CHAPTER 180

  CHAPTER 181

  CHAPTER 182

  CHAPTER 183

  PART 26

  CHAPTER 184

  CHAPTER 185

  CHAPTER 186

  CHAPTER 187

  CHAPTER 188

  CHAPTER 189

  CHAPTER 190

  CHAPTER 191

  PART 27

  CHAPTER 192

  CHAPTER 193

  CHAPTER 194

  CHAPTER 195

  CHAPTER 196

  CHAPTER 197

  PART 28

  CHAPTER 198

  CHAPTER 199

  CHAPTER 200

  CHAPTER 201

  CHAPTER 202

  CHAPTER 203

  CHAPTER 204

  CHAPTER 205

  CHAPTER 206

  CHAPTER 207

  DAY SEVEN

  PART 30

  CHAPTER 208

  CHAPTER 209

  CHAPTER 210

  CHAPTER 211

  CHAPTER 212

  CHAPTER 213

  PART 31

  CHAPTER 214

  CHAPTER 215

  CHAPTER 216

  CHAPTER 217

  CHAPTER 218

  CHAPTER 219

  CHAPTER 220

  CHAPTER 221
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  CHAPTER 222

  PART 32

  CHAPTER 223

  CHAPTER 224

  CHAPTER 225

  CHAPTER 226

  CHAPTER 227

  CHAPTER 228

  PART 33

  CHAPTER 229

  CHAPTER 230

  CHAPTER 231

  CHAPTER 232

  CHAPTER 233

  CHAPTER 234

  PART 34

  CHAPTER 235

  CHAPTER 236

  CHAPTER 237

  DAY ONE

  Part 1

  CHAPTER 1

  Jian Bo

  Malaysia

  By plan Jian Bo should have spent no more than forty minutes in the freezing sea off the coast of Japan.

  Forty minutes?

  How about two endless hours?

  Sure, they gave him a thermal suit, but two hours! He had almost gone mad by the time the submarine showed up.

  Could have sworn sharks brushed his legs twice.

  The agency had the resulting pneumonia nursed away in the private wing of a top state clinic, and his angina only counted as borderline, and he no longer had to run to the john every ten minutes, but there were also some...psychological aftereffects.

  Which is why, here in Malaysia, Jian Bo forced himself to enter the sea at least twice a day. A budding phobia of big bodies of water is not something you ignore. Not in the spy trade you don’t.

  Now he stood at the water’s edge, goggles on eyes, snorkel in mouth, waves dissolving around his ankles, pulling at the sand beneath his feet.

  Two freighters and one yacht crawled along the blue horizon. The yacht’s sail enjoying an infinitesimally growing lead.

  Jian Bo finished pretending that he was stretching, that he was thinking, that he was yawning, and finally waded in.

  To his shins.

  To his knees.

  To his crotch.

  His chest tightened up, and his bladder tried to lose control. Jian Bo did not let his bladder lose control. Instead, he swam onward with forceful strokes.

  The sea bottom fell away. A colder current brushed his toes. The fear increased. A silent scream fluttered in his chest.

  He forced himself to dive. The water closed over his head.

  The fear vanished.

  The scream dissolved, unuttered.

  Jian Bo was weightless now. The underwater panorama—a world of magic dreams.

  As a spinning vortex of thin silvery fish collapsed and then reformed further off, Jian Bo saw something else down on the bottom.

  Human figure.

  Dark diving suit.

  Oxygen tank on back.

  Diving enthusiast? Why alone? Why here? Looking straight at me. Can’t be accidental. Waiting for me.

  Then the figure signaled with its scuba flashlight. Two short flashes, followed by a long one, and another short one.

  CHAPTER 2

  Jack Masterton

  Sofia, Bulgaria

  Jack Masterton suppressed a cough.

  The air in the homey office was layered with cigarette smoke.

  Tacky photo-wallpaper to Masterton’s right—on it a section of China’s Great Wall surrounded by trees in bloom.

  The woman behind the desk was smallish and plumpish, brown wavy hair to her jawline. She had made it very clear her name was to be pronounced ‘Gala’, and definitely not ‘Galya’.

  She wore a black leather jacket.

  A subculture chick past her prime, thought Masterton. Must have been quite the stunner twenty years ago. Still can’t let the persona go, obviously.

  Gala picked up the tumbler of grape rakia from her desk and Masterton glimpsed a tattoo on her wrist and at the same time realized what the pungent undertone to the tobacco smell was. Weed.

  Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I am here for revenge. I will do what it takes to get my revenge.

  Gala raised a ‘cheers’ at him with her drink and Masterton mirrored the gesture with his own tumbler.

  “So, you were referred to me by Mr. Punchev,” the woman said.

  Masterton swallowed a bit of the drink. It was…surprisingly good.

  And now, finally, the time for his opening speech. “Yes,” he said, “I was looking for how to—”

  “Mr. Masterton,” cut in Gala, “your Bulgarian is passable, for which I congratulate you, but I think my English is better.”

  “All right then.” He shifted to English. “I need you to find the people who assaulted my daughter.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Jian Bo

  Malaysia

  The sea pushed at Jian Bo’s body from all sides, and way down here it was much colder, and almost, not quite, but almost triggered a panic flashback to the Sea of Japan. Again the scream writhed in Jian Bo’s chest.

  The figure in scuba gear displayed a waterproof plastic packet. Unmistakable USB flash drive inside.

  Jian Bo grabbed the bag, and let his body begin ascending.

  With the promised quantum encryption tech still behind the corner, hardware information transfer was prudent enough, but surely cloak and dagger theatrics of this sort were overkill?

  Damn local operatives, jumping at any chance to show off.

  Once inside his bungalow, Jian Bo locked the flimsy door, and opened his laptop. He thumbed aside the camouflage panel, located the modified port, and plugged the flash drive in.

  A new assignment.

  He had not expected to receive one so soon.

  Something to do with his old beat—Eastern Europe. Had to fly to Beijing ASAP. The digital ticket was in the files too.

  And on a separate document—a link to a coded message. He logged onto the specified forum and found the specified post.

  Oh my, oh my.

  He gave a quiet whistle. He had a new boss now, apparently. Old Guiren had finally retired, apparently.

  Big changes indeed.

  One could only hope the period of adjustment won’t be too traumatic an upheaval for the agency.

  Jian Bo shut the laptop and breathed in the fresh, salty air with a sudden thirst.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jack Masterton

  Sofia, Bulgaria

  “Please keep going,” said Gala in her cinematic KGB accent. She displayed a pack of cigarettes. “Victory Blue. You like?”

  Masterton shook his head. He tried to control his voice. “After my divorce, and the…spousal maintenance I have to pay…teaching at the university was barely enough for anything, but then aunt Agatha passed away, left a bit of money.

  “I invested it and thought hey, why not take a break from all the nonsense and go to sunny and friendly Southeast Europe?”

  He said the last words through his teeth, the glass beginning to shake in his hand.

  “And when did the…incident happen?” asked Gala, already typing something on her keyboard.

  “Last summer. I thought I’d take my daughter here for a great vacation in the village.”

  “What village? Where is it?”

  “Mamalevo. By the river Yanitsa”

  Gala nodded. “I want to check out your daughter’s online profile. Name, please.”

  “Tahira Masterton. Fourteen. No, fifteen.”

  More clacking of keyboard. “Ah, yes!” said Gala finally. “I see well-wishes and cute pictures of kitties with bandaged paws. Indian blood, yes? Ah, Pakistani. Black hair, light brown skin, she can pass for a Roma here. Although she would be dressed too well for a real gypsy.”

  Gala clicked her tongue and rubbed her fingers together in the universal sign for cash. “Maybe the attackers thought you were her decadent Western sugar daddy.”

  Masterton said nothing. Breathed in. Breathed out.

  “Your daughter, I can see photos with a neck...mmm...thing…?”

  “Neck brace, yes,” Masterton said slowly. “Also one sprained wrist, one dented shinbone, three cracked ribs.”

  “Bastards,” Gala said conversationally. “Rape?”

  “Not qu
ite. A few fingers probably, the doctor said. No semen, no traces of…foreign objects.”

  “When I hear ‘a few fingers’,” Gala said, “I instantly imagine American television serial; sexy men and women looking at DNA spirals on computers—we found a match, Captain Kowalski, we’ll get that bastard!”

  She lit another cigarette. “Nothing of the sort happened, am I correct?”

  Masterton made a face. “These pathetic, incompetent, corrupt—”

  Gala held up a hand. “Start minute by minute. You were both in Mamalevo.”

  “Yes,” exhaled Masterton. “It was Friday, July 27th. I was having some beers with my local so-called friends, Bulgars and Brits and one Irish chap. Little shop, mini-markets, you call them here. A grimy plastic table out by the side, a few chairs around it. Folksy downshift paradise to drink your stress away. Flirting with Mara, the shopkeeper, she’s somewhat fetching after the fifth beer.”

  “And the girl? Tahira?”

  “She was…around. Didn’t make any friends with the local kids—just fiddled with her phone.

  “So, a car stopped. I didn’t even look at it. A provincial shop, cars stop. Later was told it was a white Volkswagen Golf. On the way to a rally in Dolno Orekhovishte. I heard bawdy laughter, nasty voices, but still didn’t look at them.”

  “When did you look?”

  “When—when she screamed and called me.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Jian Bo

  Malaysia

  Children giggled in the obligatory afternoon rain.

  From the bungalow’s porch, Jian Bo could see a slice of the sea, which looked safe and friendly from over there, its invigorating briny aroma carried over by a gentle wind.

  Jian Bo wondered if he could smoke already.

  The doctor had warned him off smoking, but that’s what doctors do. You go to them with a sprained ankle and they tell you no smoking. You cheat death, dodge bullets, vomit up poison, and they tell you no smoking.

  The rain was thinning out. The moment would soon be over. Since he was being recalled to Beijing, it was really now or never.

  Jian Bo dug out a half-empty pack of Benson & Hedges. Back on the porch he lit up, hands trembling with anticipation, then the cigarette hit him and he finally relaxed. His lungs felt fine. Even the myriad tiny aches all over his body quieted down.

  The final globules of rain shimmered naively and enthusiastically on blades of grass. The sea murmured less than eighty meters away.

  Jian Bo took a sip of coffee. He closed his eyes.

  So, Eastern Europe... His specialty. The Second World.

  Although both of Jian Bo’s parents looked like banal Han Chinese, his great-granddad’s Slavic look had made a startling comeback in him. Thus Jian Bo had naturally become the agency’s main Southeast Europe guy almost right after graduation.