The Porter Incident: The Cari Porter Series, #3

By Mike Ryan

Cari Porter's made it to Italy. But she hasn't escaped. Dark Sky is still coming for her. Hidden in a safe house, Porter continues her search for answers about her past. Unfortunately for her, her past catches up with her. Just like everywhere else she's been, people connected to her are killed, and she goes on the run again. This time, though, she'll come face to face with someone who seemingly knows who she is. Will he give Porter the answers that she's seeking, or will he be the one to finally bring her in… dead or alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan Publishing
• Release date: Jun 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223610700

Book preview

1

Porter had been in Italy for two days. She was already getting restless. George Watts’s contact led her to an apartment that she could rent for a while. An apartment, if you wanted to call it that. It wasn’t much more than a room with a bathroom attached to it. There was a small kitchen, and a view of a parking lot. There wasn’t even a separate bedroom. There was just a cot over to the corner of the room with a few blankets on it.

Altogether, it probably wasn’t much more than five or six hundred square feet. Plus, it was located over a small restaurant. And it definitely wasn’t the cleanest of places she’d stayed at since this whole thing started. But it was a room. And Watts’s contact assured her it was secure. Apparently, the place was used as a permanent hideout for people who needed to lay low for a while. She wasn’t the first person on the run who’d used it.

Porter looked out the window, wondering what she was doing there. The apartment was rented out for the month. It was part of the price she paid Watts to get her there. But she didn’t know why she was there. Being in Italy wasn’t going to get her any answers, as far as she could tell. And unless she got a regular job and tried to forget everything that had happened up to that point, which was unlikely, she had no prospects to look forward to.

As she continued looking out the window, she watched a couple get out of their car and walk toward the restaurant. Her thoughts turned to Chesney. She thought about London. Maybe that’s where she needed to be. Maybe that’s where the answers were.

Porter started to relive some of the conversations she’d had with Chesney. They’d met each other in London not too long ago. Maybe if she could find something that connected them, something would jog her memory. Then she thought it was a crazy idea. If looking him in the eyes did nothing, if touching him did nothing, and if kissing him did nothing to shake any memories loose, nothing else probably would either.

But as her eyes moved to another couple walking back to their car, Porter figured she didn’t have anything to lose—except her life. But it wasn’t much of a life at the moment. At least in London there would be a chance of something. Right now, that’s about all that kept her going. A chance.

Even if nothing involving Chesney evoked any memories once in London, maybe something else would. She knew she’d been there, at least according to Chesney. If she stayed in Italy, she didn’t know what she would do other than stay there in that crummy apartment. No, she needed a purpose. A reason to keep on going. Now she had to figure out how she was going to get to London.

Porter went over to her phone on the table and picked it up. She sent a message to Watts’s contact. She still didn’t even know his name. Names were unimportant in this line of work, and unnecessary. The man just left her his phone number and told her to contact him if she needed anything. Preferably something important. As far as she was concerned, this qualified.

The man showed up an hour later, knocking four times on the door, just as they agreed upon, so she knew it was him. Porter went over to the door and stood beside it.

Is that my delivery? Porter asked.

The produce is fresh, the man replied.

Once he said the right code words, Porter opened the door. The man rushed inside, not wanting to stand outside for too long and risk being spotted. He was an old hat at this sort of thing. He was slightly overweight, appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, hadn’t shaved in a few weeks, and wore a hat, which mostly covered up his balding head. By Porter’s estimation, the man had been in this line of work for a long time. He certainly wasn’t new at it. There was no stumbling of his words or hesitation in his movements. They all looked like things that he had a lot of practice in and had perfected by now.

The man went over to the window and looked out, making sure he hadn’t been followed or that there wasn’t anyone out there watching. It looked clear. He turned back around to face Porter. He held his hands out to his sides.

What is it? What’s the matter?

Porter winced. I don’t belong here.

I can assure you the apartment is very safe. Have you had any visitors? Or seen anyone suspicious outside?

No, I don’t mean I don’t belong here at the apartment. I mean here… in Italy.

What is wrong with it? George said you needed a place. So here you are.

But I need to find out things. Things that I—

The man put his hand out. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He certainly didn’t want to hear any details about her life. I don’t want to hear anything. I don’t need to know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know who you are, what you’ve done, or what you plan to do. It is better for both of us. If I don’t know, I’ll never have anything to say. Especially to those who may be looking for you.

I… just need to get out of here. I need to look for some answers.

And where do you wish to find these answers?

London.

London?

Yes. Can you get me there?

It will be difficult, the man replied.

I’m used to it.

And it may take some time. I assume you do not wish to fly.

Not unless my face can avoid airport security cameras, Porter said.

That I cannot guarantee.

I know.

To travel by car, we can probably drive you to Belgium. It is fourteen, sixteen hours perhaps. From there, you would have to catch a boat. Probably the safest way of traveling.

Porter nodded. It sounded good. Fourteen hours was better than she expected. And it beat flying, as she knew if she went into an airport that every camera was going to be looking at her.

OK. Whatever you need to do to make it happen.

The man lifted the brim of his hat up and scratched his forehead before pulling the hat back down. You are sure this is what you want? You are safe here.

Porter walked past him and went over to the window. She looked down, seeing more people get into and out of their cars. I have to.

The man threw his hands up again, letting them fall back down and slap against the sides of his legs. Then I will do what I can to make it happen. You must give me a day or two to set things up, possibly longer.

Porter turned around and nodded at him. Thank you.

You’re sure this is what you want? he repeated.

She gave him a half-hearted smile. This isn’t where I need to be.

The man threw up his left hand again. Very well. I shall do my best. He walked over to the door, with Porter following him over there. He opened it, peeking his head out. Satisfied that he could freely leave, he exited the room. Porter closed the door behind him.

Stephenson walked into the room, rubbing his face and his eyes, the victim of a long and never-ending night. He immediately locked eyes with Myers, who rushed over to his boss as soon as he saw him.

Where do we stand? Stephenson asked, rubbing the inside corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

No sign of Porter yet.

Any leads at all?

We’re combing through every country in Africa right now, hoping she turns up somewhere.

Hope left this building a long time ago. We need facts. Not hope.

Myers took a deep breath. Right now the facts are scarce.

Where did she go?

Stephenson walked over to one of the screens on the wall and stared at it. Myers was stationary for a moment, then followed his boss over there. They looked at the map together. Stephenson pointed at Porter’s last known location.

This is where we last made contact with her. This is where Chesney was killed.

Right, Myers said.

So where did she go after that?

She went into the Congo and disappeared.

Stephenson wasn’t willing to accept that explanation. No. Someone’s seen her. He continued pointing at the map. If she went in this way, where would she go after that?

Could go just about anywhere.

Let’s assume she’s got a specific purpose. Somewhere she wants to go.

But we haven’t gotten any inclination yet that she’s ever had a specific purpose, Myers said. Ever since Johannesburg, it seems like she’s just aimlessly wandering. Just trying to stay a step ahead of us.

No, I don’t buy that. She’s headed somewhere. Gotta be.

She’s a skilled agent. Her purpose could be just finding a spot to blend in. Disappear.

Where would she do that?

Now it was Myers’s turn to point at the map, running his finger along several countries. Congo, Sudan, Nigeria, I mean… take your pick. Could be anywhere.

Stephenson briefly glanced at Myers, then studied the map a bit more. He wasn’t really focusing on it, though. He was thinking of Porter. And Chesney. There was something more there, he thought. There had to be.

At some point, Myers slipped away from his boss and checked in with an analyst working on the Porter situation. Stephenson crossed his arms as he continued thinking, not even noticing he was now standing there alone. He tried to put himself in Porter’s shoes. And Chesney’s. What would he do if he were in their position? His eyes darted all over the map, considering all the places that Porter might be in now. Honestly, it could be anywhere.

Expand the search.

Myers looked up from the desk he was now standing by. What?

Expand the search.

Myers walked back over to his boss. To where?

Stephenson pointed at several different countries. Here, here, here, and here. He pointed to Portugal, Spain, Italy, Turkey, Greece, Albania, and Croatia.

Myers was willing to comply with the directive, though he felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle. What am I not getting? Why these places?

Think about it from her perspective. We’re on her trail. We just killed her lover. We were on her in South Africa, Mozambique, Zimbabwe. She knows we’re combing the area. She knows the area’s hot. She wants to get away and put some space between us, but she can’t do it there. She knows we’ll be searching. So what can she do?

Myers started nodding, thinking he was getting it. Flying’s out of the question. So is any other major travel. But Africa’s crawling with agents. She wants to get off the continent.

Right. Flying’s too dangerous. What else can she do?

Myers shrugged. Try to make her way into Europe?

But how? If not by air, the only other way is by boat. But you can’t do it by regular means.

You also can’t take regular routes to get there.

Stephenson agreed. Correct. There are tons of shady characters in the region who will smuggle just about anything for a dollar. If she hooked up with one, they could take her through the rest of these countries until they reach the shore here. He pointed at several countries, his finger running over each of them separately. Take your pick. Libya, Algeria, Tunisia, Morocco, any one of them would work.

And then there’s a boat to take you to Europe.

Right. In that scenario, you stay off our radar, and you get out of Africa at the same time.

But don’t you think that’s going from the frying pan into the fire? Myers asked. I mean, isn’t it easier to blend in or stay off the radar in Africa than it is in Europe?

Not if the idea is to get as far away from us as possible. We’ve found her several times. We know she’s there. If she stays, she’ll always have to look over her shoulder. She’ll always wonder if we’re just around the corner. But if she can escape to somewhere else, then maybe she can finally shake us.

Should I take all of our people off Africa and put them on Europe?

Stephenson shook his head. Although he was confident in his assumptions, he wasn’t ready to go all-in on them. No. No, not yet. Just in case she’s decided to do the unthinkable and double back to where she’s already been, I don’t want to leave it blind. Keep a few analysts on Africa still. But put the bulk of our people on Europe.

I’ll have them start running the facial scans immediately.

Wait, wait. Stephenson put his arm up to prevent his lieutenant from leaving so soon. I want to get down to a micro-level on this. I want to analyze every face that even comes close to Porter’s. I don’t even care about full matches on this. I want anything above a ten-percent-match capability to be analyzed and double-checked by us.

That’s gonna take a lot more time.

I don’t care. Unless Porter doesn’t see a camera pick her up, she’s not going to just waltz into a shot. If she sees a camera, she’s going to turn her head, pull a hat down, move to the side, something. We might only get a glimpse. I think the odds of us getting a hundred percent match are somewhere between slim and none. We’ll have to narrow it down ourselves.

I’ll get everyone on it.

As Myers left to carry out his orders, Stephenson stayed put, letting his eyes dance around to the dozens of monitors on the wall. Most of them had flashing screens, alternating between different cameras that they were analyzing.

We’re coming for you, Cari. We’ll find you eventually.

2

Porter opened the door and let her contact in. The man, like he had the other times he was there, hurried himself into the room like he was fearful of someone watching. He instantly went over to the window again. Porter watched him closely.

You always do that when you enter a room?

The man kept looking out the window. One can never be too careful. There are eyes everywhere. Both human and artificial.

I assume you have news for me?

The man finally turned around. Yes. Are you sure you still want to do this?

I am.

Very well, then. We will be able to move you in four or five days, probably.

Four or five days? Probably? You can’t pin it down?

"We are pinning down details now. The earliest it would be is three days from now. Five at the latest. It takes time to set these things up.