by Lynda Filler
“Shush, it’s nothing for us to worry about.”
Their driver pulled slowly around the chaotic area. Then groaned to a stop to the right of the roadside altercation.
“All out here!”
“What???” Rasha looked at the man and woman wedged up against her and her child. They shook their heads in resignation and stood up slowly.
“Border.” He nodded to the crossing far ahead.
The signs were in a foreign language, but the fences and the guards made it clear that there would be no entrance without official paperwork. She grabbed her few belongings, adjusted her money belt and the weapons on her person, and grasped Amira’s hand. She prayed their Syrian passports would get them through once again. And maybe they would have a camp where she and her baby could clean themselves and have hot food.
Whatever message she was carrying must get through. Otherwise, the death of her husband and brother would be in vain.
7
Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico
LUCI FELT THE rumbling engine ease up. The north shore of the Bay of Banderas appeared deserted, but awareness of the energy surrounding her had saved her life on more than one occasion.
Her undercover buddy urged his boat towards the silt-filled river Ameca. This was definitely not deep water, especially at this time of the year.
It was uninhabited and pitch black. The sparse running lights were the only signs of people for miles around. George simultaneously consulted his compass and depth finder.
“There!” Luci kept her voice low.
“Got it.” A tiny, half-rotting fisherman’s pier jutted out ten feet between the mangroves into the coastal lagoon. George pulled up and nodded to a shrunken older man kneeling on the edge of the dock. He secured the fast boat to weather-beaten wooden post and gave a non-committal nod in Luci’s direction.
“Good to go.” George gave one last smile to Luci, a look of longing on his boyish face.
“So, you’re sure about the phone number, right?” Luci allowed the hint of a smile to show while she placed her concentration on the old guy. She found him neutral; her eyes were already surveying her surroundings alert for anything out of the ordinary.
Lorena climbed the wobbling ladder and reached back for Alice.
“My friend will take you to his vehicle and on to the next part of your trip.” He threw their two heavy knapsacks up to his Mexican amigo.
“Adios George.”
Luci scaled the rotting ladder and shook the hand of a man with one finger missing and a machete in his belt.
This side of the bay was new territory for Luci. She stayed vigilant and followed their escort. She had to trust Raven. But she was still in Mexico and money and death threats bought a lot of loyalty.
She removed her gun from her pocket and let Lorena carry Alice. Unfortunately, this was not a new drill for Alice. She knew when to talk and when to be still. They’d left Europe on the run and had ended up in South America. They’d been chased from South America by the Cartels, and possibly even the CIA. She was also certain her own Mossad would kill her if they knew where to find her. Yet again, someone had caught up with them, or Raven wouldn’t have sent the evacuation message. If she believed in God, she’d thank him for meeting Luke in her Mossad days. Without his protection, they’d all be in trouble.
Luke had tried to work his way into her heart last summer. Alice already lost one father she never even knew. Luci wouldn’t allow herself another relationship. But Luke was as stubborn as she was and never gave up. Right now, Luci was immensely grateful for the surveillance the Raven Group kept on her and Alice. Otherwise tonight she, Alice and Lorena would be dead.
They trudged along a wet trail through overgrown mangroves and foul-smelling swamp gases. Luci stepped around a pile of rotting fish heads and motioned to Lorena to be careful. Their Mexican guide wielded his machete and hacked away at the large branches hung low and humming with mosquitos. She heard a crocodile tail crack and smack the water bank then slither into the shallow estuary.
“Cuidado.” Her guide murmured. “Snakes.”
Luci looked down, grateful she’d switched to her black leather boots. She turned back to Lorena who smiled her understanding and nodded at a drowsy Alice. That kid was amazing. Nothing fazed her.
Luci hated snakes. She switched from her gun to a knife and stayed alert. Her mind wandered to her conversation with Raven. Anyone could deliver a message to Paris. But Luke had stressed that this mission was of the utmost importance and must be performed by someone the French knew and would trust. But who did she know that would be helpful in France?
Suddenly the man ahead of them slowed, put his hand up and whispered.
“We go inland here. I see people. We don’t want to meet them. Be very quiet. Follow me.” Off in the distance, Luci could hear the murmur of voices. The smell of marijuana hung in the air.
Ten minutes later they came to a profoundly rutted dry road where a dusty Toyota truck waited. It was a short ride from there to the private plane terminal at the airport in Puerto Vallarta.
8
Anacortes, Washington State
“ALWAYS GOOD TO see you, Jack. I’m glad you called. I wanted to tell you about Paris. We’re on for tomorrow. Come. I have lunch waiting.”
Jack nodded shaking hands with Raven.
“I thought we’d sit outside and enjoy the rare sunshine.”
All six-feet-four inches of Jack Stone slouched through the steel reinforced oak door. He’d never lost his gangly student demeanor. They’d met at Caltech, shared ideas, and both had spent some time with Steve Jobs in Palo Alto. Crazy times. But they’d learned from each other, shared ideas, and had become life-long friends. They’d mourned their loss of Steve together over glasses of fine red wine from Raven's award-winning vineyards in France.
But today Raven could see Jack was seriously distracted. He carried his cell phone in his hand and verged on being impatient, almost rude. Never one to probe, Luke would wait. Jack would talk when he was ready.
Raven looked out towards the San Juan Islands and thought about diving. He was happiest on or in the water, out in nature. A serene ferry made its way along Puget Sound headed for Seattle.
Luke picked at the light meal Maggs’ staff had prepared and waited. Jack pushed the food around, ate nothing and finally spoke up.
“Look. I think I have a serious situation on my hands.” Jack looked off into the distance then turned towards Raven.
“I can’t go to the government or the police.”
They both sat in silence.
“You know my charitable foundation does work on immunization. We’ve made great strides against disease in third world countries. It’s my passion.” He hesitated. Luke let him talk.
“But. I also have several projects that we work on for the Federal Government and the Military. I know it’s all top secret, but I know you often do work in these areas and I have a situation.”
Raven took a deep breath. This was not going to be good.
“What happened?
“Dr. Azar, one of my top research scientists, has disappeared.”
“How do you know he’s disappeared?”
“He was supposed to take a vacation with his wife in Paris. They arrived at the airport this morning. Here’s what I know from his assistant Dr. Sahar Fisal. Dr. Azar was talking with Dr. Fisal on his phone at the airport when she heard a man interrupt and the doctor mention Homeland Security. The Doctor said he’d call right back. He never did. She didn’t overthink it at first. She assumed he was busy with his check-in. She kept trying to reach him, but her calls went to voicemail. They were working on a vital project, and she needed some answers before he left. Her intuition told her something was wrong. So, she called me.”
“What was he working on?”
“Well, you see that’s where it gets complicated. I’m not a scientist. I’m an engineer. I was told this project was about immunization, protection for our troops, an antidote for var
ious known bioweapons.” He stopped, shaking his head. Raven knew that look. He was utterly disgusted with himself.
“What else? What are you holding back?”
“His assistant told me she’d signed a document with the US Government to never reveal anything about their project. I’ve been sitting here trying to decide what to tell you.” Raven could sense the war going on in Jack’s mind.
“The Government is funding the creation of new bio-weapons. Her boss was given the mandate to engineer a super bio-weapon. Today I found out they were not tasked to work the cure.” Jack hung his head in shame.
“It was carefully orchestrated. I can see that now. I’m always so busy I should have paid more attention to what was happening in my labs.”
Luke waited.
“Sahar wasn’t feeling good about the whole project anyway. She wasn’t supposed to know the details, only to assist Dr. Azar. After her brief conversation with the doctor, she felt something was off. She’s a street-smart girl. She left her apartment and used a borrowed cell phone in Starbucks to call me. She thought I knew about their project as it’s my foundation and company; and I suppose she was looking for reassurance.”
Luke was seething. The ultimate bio-weapon that could destroy thousands of lives was manufactured in America in a non-secure facility. And now its maker was missing. No doubt the weapon was gone as well.
“Where’s his assistant right now?”
“I sent her to a private getaway Sandy and I keep in West Seattle. No one knows about it.”
“She probably still has her cell phone turned on. Call her right now. I’ll have her picked up.”
“Okay.”
Jack pulled out his phone and tapped in a number. He waited. Tried again. Then looked up at Luke with fear in his eyes.
“Where’s your wife Jack? And your kids?”
Jack looked stunned.
“They’re at the lake. With security.”
“Call your team and get your family into that safe room right now! I’ll mobilize my team.”
9
RB PULLED THE SUV into the circular drive at the compound in Anacortes. He recognized Jack Stones security waiting by the side of his Lincoln Navigator. He nodded, used his device to close the gates behind him and walked up to the house.
No one greeted him, so he made his way to the kitchen. No Maggs. No Raven. He walked out to the patio and saw Jack and Luke in a serious discussion. They didn't look happy.
“Glad you’re here.” Jack stood up to shake RB’s hand.
“How’d your meeting go at the Embassy?”
“It’s all good. Set to go for the tomorrow, in Paris. They’re expecting us.”
“Great, first of all, we aren’t going, only Luci.”
“She, Lorena and Alice arrived in the middle of the night. She’s working out in the gym. We’ll talk about Paris later. Right now, Jack has a situation.”
Two stories underground Luci pounded the mat. She’d been working out for the last hour on her own. Luci knew she should be in better shape. You could only do so much in the jungle. How many times a day could she scale the sides of the waterfall, or how hard could she kayak against the ocean waves? Still, she wasn’t in bad shape; but after Maggs joined her, Luci lost the upper hand at Krav Maga. And if Maggs could get that close, Luci worried she might be losing her lethal edge.
Both girls finished up and headed to the showers.
“It must be all the margaritas and quesadillas.” Maggs teased.
Meanwhile, Maggs knew that it wouldn’t take much for Luci to take her down if she really wanted to. The ex-Mossad specialist had the body of a fine-tuned killing machine. Maggs could see that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on Luci’s form. She must have been doing brutal workouts in that seaside town.
Luci looked over at Maggs. The Michelin trained chef turned into a savage warrior when confronted with resistance. She had superior height, strong masculine structure, and was both smart and savvy. She ran a tight ship as Raven’s Chief of Staff. And she never held it over anyone. She trained all the operatives no matter what branch of the military or civilian life they came from. And oversaw both domestic and international personnel. RB ran everything technical, but Maggs kept each operative in line.
“I haven’t really spoken with Luke yet about what he needs me to do. You must know what’s going on.”
Maggs shrugged, dried herself from her shower and strode by Luci naked. She made no overt show of her sexual interest in Luci, but it was always there, simmering. Luci wasn’t bi-sexual. When she was in heat, it was for men. And there’d only been two men in her life since Alice was born; one, a casual one-night-stand. The other was waiting to talk with her.
Right now, Alice was her life and the focus of all her passion.
Luci dressed quickly. She was ready for answers. Who was responsible for Yelapa and what did Luke want her to do in Paris. She had mixed emotions about seeing Luke. Luci owed him her life, again. But she’d left him after she’d rescued Alice from abduction by Mexican sex-traffickers and them the evil Sying. And Luke had invited her to live in Yelapa at the safe house as long and she and Alice wanted.
All that changed in the last twenty-four hours. She was on the run again.
The intercom sounded. “Luci, Maggs, I need you now. In the war room.”
10
Bosnian border
RASHA GRASPED AMIRA’S hand tightly. The young girl tripped over something and started to fall. The sandwich man was suddenly by her side and helped her get up.
“Thank you.” Rasha murmured and headed away.
“Wait. I can help you.” The man’s words were barely discernible. She was surprised when he spoke passable Arabic. Rasha struggled to hear him.
“I can help you if you have enough money.”
Rasha observed the man. She had grown up in privilege in Syria, not on the streets like many. She was an educated and very modern woman. But her mother was very strict and always worried about the government and the corruption she knew was there. She’d not only educated her children in the sciences but also in martial arts and weaponry. Rasha would not show this side of herself as she abhorred violence and had seen too much crime in the last year. But she could take care of herself, certainly against the fragile elderly man who stood near her.
“I have a brother over there in immigration. We live on the Bosnian side. For a fee, he will let you through the border without a wait. See those tents.” He pointed to poorly fabricated tents leaning precariously laden with snow.
“Yes.”
“If you cannot pay, your name goes on a list, and you remain there for weeks, maybe longer. You might never get through.”
“How much?”
“How much do you have?”
“I will give you two hundred American dollars.”
“Not good enough. My brother will take three hundred, and I want one hundred.”
“I already gave you one hundred for two sandwiches. Don’t be a pig!!”
A row of yellow teeth smiled at the woman. He was not as fragile as he liked people to think.
The old man sized her up. He knew she had no protector. He could let her through the border, and he and his friends on the other side would steal the rest of her money. Yes, that could be a better plan.
“Let me speak to my brother.”
Rasha leaned down and pulled Amira’s jacket tighter around her. She adjusted the hood. Her fingers grazed her daughter’s cheeks.
“Soon we will be in France my love, and we will see aunty.”
The child looked up with a spark of hope in her dark eyes.
“Yes Momma, don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Seven years old. No child should have to be uprooted from her home, become a refugee, and be treated like garbage on the street. Rasha tried to control her hatred of the Syrian regime and what they had done to their very own people. And most of all, deep in her heart, she held burning anger at her husband and her brother. Why didn’t th
ey get out before it was too late? They must have known of the danger.
The old man returned. He nodded towards the woman and child. They started to walk through the throngs of people. Some pushed and shoved at them. Why were they going so fast? One woman called out to Rasha in Arabic calling her a whore. She held her head high and ignored them. She would do whatever it took to get herself and her child to safety and to deliver the information from her dead husband to her family in Paris.
The brother looked Rasha up and down, sizing up her worth and taking the money she’d slipped between the pages of her passport.
“Status?”
“Widow.”
“And the child, does she have papers?”
“Yes, here is her passport.”
“Okay, you have refugee status to travel through Bosnia, but you must be gone in three days. Your final destination?”
Rasha hesitated.
“Switzerland. I have family there.”
The agent nodded to her, looked at his brother and pointed to the campsite on the Bosnian side.
He shuffled towards a tent recently vacated by others. Rasha nodded her thanks and cleared freshly fallen snow before entering the dirty structure. There was a rip in the sidewall. Someone had tried to tape it shut, but the north winds came through regardless. The bitter weather was not enough to mask the unwashed smell emanating from moldy blankets laid on top of threadbare rugs on a plastic tarp. The child sat on a thin cotton mat and waited for her mother to speak.
Rasha whispered. “We will not stay here. We will wait for a couple of hours until it’s darker, then go towards the train station. We will be near when the train arrives. I don’t trust these men.”