Face of the Assassin Read online

  BILL BREWER

  THRILLEX Publishing

  Copyright 2020 by Bill Brewer

  Cover Design by Jennifer Greef

  Dedicated to you, the reader.

  Thank you for choosing this book.

  The reader’s enjoyment is the author’s reward.

  Praise for Bill Brewer

  K. Allen

  Love this book!

  Love this book! The combination of engaging characters and detailed accounts made it hard to put down. Looking forward to the whole series of David Diegert books.

  Lee Anne

  One heck of a ride!

  This book started out fast and didn’t let up. An excellent book of action and suspense. Well written and engaging.

  Jarod Farchione

  Made me a fan of fiction again!

  Brewer’s writing reads like an action movie, while being tactical, well-paced, and realistic in all of the ways I enjoy. I highly recommend this book.

  Jimmy Ray

  Assassin on the Run

  Characters are well developed, the story is exciting to follow, and it’s a fun read. If you like action and adventure, you will love this one. A great story pulls the reader in, and this one had me from the first page.

  Jeffrey Miller

  A Real Page-Turner!

  As soon as I started reading, I couldn't put it down. Bill Brewer delivers a hard-hitting, story that's as much cerebral as visceral. If you like your reading fast and powerful, you don't want to pass this one up!

  CHAPTER 1

  Gunfire echoing through rooms he hadn’t cleared yet, raised the adrenaline rushing through David Diegert’s blood. Tightening his grip on his M4, he pulled the stock into his shoulder as he lowered his gaze just beyond the end of the barrel. Stepping forward in a low crouch, he proceeded to the open doorway. He leaned up against the jamb, flashing a look inside. Two tangoes holding a hostage. In an instant, Diegert assessed the hostage to be exhausted and confused. The tangoes each held an AK, as well as holstered side arms.

  Having survived an assassination attempt upon him and his father while on safari in Tanzania, Diegert was undergoing a training exercise within the underground labyrinth of the London Polytechnic University. The enemies he faced, and the hostage he was rescuing, were holographic, yet failure would lead to death for the human image he was attempting to free.

  From his utility vest, Diegert selected a distraction grenade--an explosive device designed to give an operator a brief moment to apply deadly force. Diegert’s grenade exploded in the far corner of the room, surprising the computer operators, whose holographic tangos reactions were slowed just enough for Diegert to fatally shoot them both. As the tangos’ bodies dissolved, a relieved smile appeared on the hostage’s face as she too pixelated into the ether.

  Over the speakers came the voice of Sebastian Coburn, the computer programmer in charge of holographic technology, “Hey that was a rather dodgy use of a grenade.”

  “You said I could use anything on my vest.”

  “Yes, of course, but you could have blown up the hostage.”

  “That’s bullshit. If you bother to look, your own sensors will show no damage.”

  “Screw you, Diegert.”

  “Fuck off. You’re way too polite. You’re just pissed cuz I kicked your ass.”

  In the changing area, Diegert took off his tactical vest and suit. The clothing had sensors, which recorded his biometrics. Measuring the physiological response of his body provided insight to the psychological state he experienced when facing lethal threat. David Diegert was unnaturally calm when facing violence. His subdued readings when bullets were flying made him the most lethal operator serving Crepusculous. As he got dressed, Diegert thought about what his father had said while flying back from Kenya. Even referring to Klaus Panzer as his father was strange enough, but his perception of the man was changing. Quite uncharacteristically, his father had told him he loved him, and wanted to spend the rest of his life building his empire with him. Fulfilling Diegert’s wish for a father overpowered his inherent skepticism. He felt a bond forming between them, which he wanted to believe in, but was hesitant to trust. The buzz of his phone snapped him from his reverie. A text from Carolyn Fuller: “We need to meet. Highland Park, noon tomorrow.”

  Carolyn Fuller was the CIA Agent who helped Diegert return to Europe. Having recovered from her injuries inflicted by Fatima Hussain, she was now assigned to the London CIA office, after being denied permission to return to the United States. Operating in London, Carolyn continued to pursue leads in the assassination of President Peter Carson. She was also concerned with the U.S. locations of a dozen thermobaric bombs. Diegert was her source on that break and her man inside the secret and sinister Crepusculous. She needed intel on those explosives, and Diegert gave her information on Aaron Blevinsky. The wily and determined head of clandestine operations for Crepusculous--the man who orchestrated the placement of the bombs and remained in control of their detonation. The relationship between Carolyn and Diegert was complicated by the fact they’d made love while holed up in a cottage outside London.

  Diegert replied to her text, “Got it, meet you in the park tomorrow.”

  At noon the next day, Diegert arrived at the park well ahead of the appointment to conduct his threat assessment. It surprised him to see that she had come early as well. His stubbly beard, ball cap and sunglasses disguised his looks so he was ignored by the joggers, moms with strollers, as well as the quiet elders observing life from their perches on park benches.

  In London, rain is always a possibility but today was warm, and the sun filtered through the trees, creating a dappled mosaic of light. Curiously, Carolyn wore a long beige trench coat. The garment did not have the typical mid waist sash. It just hung from her shoulders to her ankles giving her the fashion appeal of a brown paper bag. Dressing for inclement weather shrouded Carolyn’s athletic physique. Her shoulder length brown hair hung loose about her head, leaving it to blow in the mid-day breeze. Carolyn’s attractive face and bright smile appeared subdued by an unconscious frown and the formation of diverging wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Her tense expression was beginning to tell the next phase of her life’s story.

  As she passed by Diegert’s position leaning against a tree, he fell in line with her gait, matching her pace.

  “A hoodlum in the park? Is that the best disguise you could come up with?” asked Carolyn.

  “A spy in a trench coat, paranoid about rain on a sunny day. You’re not one to be casting aspersions. What’s with the coat?”

  “Shut up. Just keep walking.”

  Sticking to the footpaths, Carolyn led them out of the park along Kensington Boulevard and unto the London Bridge. She stopped in the middle of the bridge and turned to face Diegert.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded. “It’s nuts to stop in the middle of the bridge. The CCTV will pick it up and flag us.” Diegert stepped around her to continue crossing the bridge. She quickened her pace, closed the gap and grabbed his arm. He yanked his arm away from her and kept walking. She jogged to re-join him.

  “You’re trying to get me busted. You’re drawing them in, on the other side of the bridge aren’t you?” said Diegert.

  Keeping pace with his intensified walk, Carolyn said, “No I just want to talk where we can’t be overheard.”

  “It won’t matter if we’re seen as suspicious.”

  “Well then, listen to me while we walk.”

  “Start talking.”

  As they progressed, Diegert watched the eyes of the uniformed police officers stationed where the bridge met the street. Always vigilant, the officers scanned the crowd of pedestrians, but paid no special attention to Carolyn or Diegert. Off the b
ridge, Carolyn said, “Are you ready to listen?”

  “No,” said Diegert.

  Turning down a side street, he looked for a sign extended over a door. The Red Rooster Inn was a tourist version of a British Pub. Diegert went inside and took a booth, facing Carolyn who remained in her trench coat. The waitress was quick, and Diegert ordered a pint of Old Speckled Hen while Carolyn requested Perrier.

  “I followed up your intel on Blevinsky and the thermobaric bombs,” said Carolyn.

  Diegert nodded while tapping his fingers on the table.

  Carolyn shot a glance around the pub before speaking. “He’s a real piece of work. His record of juvenile offenses in Germany is extensive although I am denied the details. I doubt he’s earned one single legal dollar his entire life.”

  Diegert shrugged. “He’s rude and selfish as well, but you can’t arrest him for any of that, so what.”

  “His track on the dark net is convoluted,” Her tired face was set in a serious expression. “But our counter intel has set some traps for him which he has utilized.”

  The waitress returned with their drinks. He thanked her and waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. “What are these traps offering?”

  “They’re underground ordinance companies. They offer to set and manage clandestine explosives.”

  “But all his bombs are set.”

  She sipped her Perrier. “Apparently, thermobaric bombs require maintenance and some of the earlier contractors have moved on.”

  “Or been eliminated.”

  Nodding to the possibility, Carolyn said, “Yes, that as well. What we’ve uncovered is the location of one bomb in Cleveland set to go off during the NCAA Final Four basketball tournament.”

  “A televised attack.”

  “We’re playing Blevinsky, so we can locate the other bombs, but he’s skittish. He’s limited us to just this one.”

  “You spook him, and he will turn on you.”

  “We’re worried he’ll just go to ground and stop all communication.”

  “Let him come to you. You solicit him, and he’ll drop you like a stone.”

  “The other thing is, he’s not in Romania anymore.”

  “And you don’t know where he is?” asked Diegert.

  “Correct.”

  “But you have contact with him through the net?”

  “Correct.”

  “But you want to know his location?”

  “If things go bad quickly, we want to be able to put our hands on him,” insisted Carolyn.

  “Just cuz you know where he is doesn’t mean you’ll be able to grab him whenever you want.”

  “Grabbing him is not my department, but locating him is. Can you gather that Intel?”

  Taking a long draft of his Scottish brew, Diegert considered his response. With Panzer now treating him like a son, Diegert had a lot to lose by continuing to help the CIA. Nevertheless, these bombs could devastate the United States, killing millions of people while destroying his homeland. “I don’t have direct access to this information. I’ll have to ferret this out.”

  “Well then start ferreting. That’s what spies do.”

  Diegert took another tug on his beer as he contemplated the request. Clandestine betrayal, that’s what he was being asked. Seek the truth and share it with those who should never have it. For a man unable to return to the U.S., it seemed a risky proposition.

  “Carolyn,” Diegert began, “I have something to tell you.”

  Setting her Perrier back on the table and swallowing her sip, Carolyn said, “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “I’ve discovered who my real father is.”

  Carolyn focused on David’s eyes. “Who?” she asked as Diegert avoided her gaze.

  “I made this discovery the night you were injured. I went to the Ambassador Hotel. It was where they were holding my mother.”

  “Okay.”

  Diegert squirmed in the booth seat, bit his trembling lower lip, while rapping his fist against the table. He stammered, “Mmyy Faa-” Shaking his head as he gathered himself, David spoke in a deadpan tone. “My father is Klaus Panzer.”

  Carolyn leaned back and looked above David to no fixed point in the distance. She blinked her eyes repeatedly as she processed what she just heard. Diegert looked on, wondering if she believed him.

  “Wow, that is a surprise,” said the thoughtful CIA Agent.

  “It surprised me too. It turns out my mom and Panzer had an affair at a fancy hunting lodge in Minnesota where she worked. Panzer was staying at the lodge and they had sex one night. I was the result, and she never contacted him about me. He never thought about her again, but he recognized her in the suite at the Ambassador. He put two and two together and my mom confirmed it.”

  Shaking her head with a far off stare Carolyn said, “It’s like you two were destined to be brought together.”

  “Yeah, fucking mystical. I haven’t told you ‘til now because I wondered if you would stop using me as an asset.”

  Carolyn looked at him with a fixed gaze. “How does learning this make you feel? How is Panzer treating you?”

  “It’s amazing. The guy is so focused on himself and his own beliefs, that he just wants me to be his son. He wants me to love him, get along with him, help him build his empire and inherit his legacy.”

  “That’s pretty intoxicating given that this guy really does have a fortune.”

  “I really don’t care about all the money, but I believe I can get in even closer now that I am being treated like his son.”

  “We’ll have to see how this works out, but David, I gotta say that wealth and power are forces of corruption. You’re going to have to be mindful that the influence of money will change you.”

  Diegert heard her words, and when he was with her, he felt the righteousness of her mission and was impressed with her dedication to protecting the U.S. She gave him a sense of patriotism, which now had to compete with Panzer’s paternal pull.

  “I’ve been poor all my life. I’m used to living with little. What can all that money really do?”

  Carolyn looked at him without responding. Diegert felt she doubted his resolve.

  She said, “Resisting the corrupting force of power will be the biggest challenge of your entire life. I’ll help you all I can.”

  Diegert looked at her, feeling as if she knew a lot more than he did about what he faced. “Why are you still here in London?” he asked. “Why haven’t you been sent back to the U.S?”

  Rolling her eyes while picking at the label on her bottle Carolyn said, “The Assistant Director of the British office has requested that I be assigned to London so I can assist on this case.”

  “And he got his way?”

  “He was suspicious that I was involved in a plot regarding the President’s assassination, although that is waning now that I have produced actionable intel.”

  “But you have to keep feeding the beast.”

  Pausing to furrow her brow Carolyn went on, “He is a beast.”

  Diegert picked up on her tension. “What do you mean?”

  Rolling her eyes as she turned away, Carolyn said, “It’s nothing really.”

  “I’ve found that when something is nothing, it’s usually something.”

  Carolyn’s narrowed eyelids, intensified her sneer.

  Diegert slid his beer to the side and leaned forward across the table. “What?”

  Carolyn shifted in the booth seat, peering into her lap.

  “Tell me,” said Diegert

  “The guy’s a pig.”

  She looked up to see Diegert offering eye contact while patiently waiting for her to find her voice. Carolyn’s words mixed rage with tears. “He’s so conceited and entitled. He’s using his position to exert power over me.” Wiping her cheek on her sleeve, Carolyn said, “God, I just can’t believe my career has come to this.” Biting her trembling lip, she snuffed the tears running through her nose.

  Diegert slid a paper napkin acro
ss the table. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “You mean he’s making you work on this case?” asked Diegert.

  “Well that, he doesn’t have to do. I’m glad to do my job.”

  “What else then?”

  “A few years back we were both at the Farm for training. I remember him as unremarkable and way too conceited for his lackluster performance. He was not in good shape, so he struggled with the physical ordeals we had to accomplish. He was not a team player, and I just wasn’t impressed with him. But he kept coming on to me all week long. Finally when the week was over I skipped the goodbye party at the local bar just to avoid him, but he came back to the dormitory, wasted. He starts banging on my door saying all sorts of sexual stuff. I didn’t even have to call security, they just showed up and took him away. He was disciplined and demoted. He had to work his way back up the ladder and London is part of his career climb. He’s pissed because he thinks I called security on him, yet he’s still got a hard on for me.”

  “Not a great situation, especially in a foreign country.”

  “Last Friday he asked for an update at 5:00 pm. I arrive at his office and he’s got scotch on the rocks sitting on his desk. I tell him, I’m not meeting with him under these conditions. He starts telling me that after 5:00 pm it’s okay, and I need to be more flexible. I turned around and left the building. He e-mailed a tirade about disrespect and insubordination, dereliction of duty and inappropriate characterization. I made sure to store that e-mail.”

  “So who’s above him?”

  “The director of the London office is a real good friend of Ramsey’s father. I’m getting nowhere going up.”

  “Who would replace him if he left?”

  “There’s no way Richard will leave. The only way he goes is if he’s called back to the States for a promotion.”

  “If he was called back how would that change things for you?”

  Carolyn chuckled. “I don’t know what would happen if he returned to Washington.”