by Lynda Filler
She smiled at the young man. They were far away from Syria. She wouldn’t have to worry about a stranger’s cell phone call being monitored in this small border town in Serbia.
A sob escaped Rasha’s throat when she heard her sister-in-law’s voice. It was only voicemail; still, she might not get a chance like this again, so Rasha carefully prepared her message.
“Bonjour. My husband and brother are no longer able to travel. But Amira and I have been on the road for some time. We are stranded in a town on the Serbian border. These are the coordinates from the map.” She carefully gave the details and repeated them twice. “The border is closed indefinitely. We have passports, but they say we will not be allowed to transit Hungary.” Rasha choked back a sob. “We have a vital message regarding something my husband was working on. He said you would understand. We are desperate for your help.” Rasha handed the phone back to the kind stranger. Tears streamed down her wearied cheeks. She struggled with her money to find Euros for the call, but the aid worker smiled and shook his head. He turned away to help the next family.
Rasha felt better just hearing her sister-in-law’s voice. She held her head high and carried her heavy and very tired seven-year-old in her arms. She’d been on the run long enough to look for the exits and the safe areas around her. She followed the scruffy green arrows hastily painted on dirty linoleum floors. Then turned right like everyone else and was handed a towel, some soap, and a blanket. Again, she was grateful not to spend a night outside on the hard ground or in a rancid tent. She washed herself and Amira. Then they found a vacant mat with privacy from the rest of the refugees and lay down for the night.
“Momma.”
“Yes, baby?”
“When can we go home? I miss my daddy.”
“I miss him too little one. Now we need to sleep.”
19
Paris, France
“I’VE HEARD OF your man although we haven’t met.” Samaar looked up in surprise and saw the laughter in Simone’s eyes at Pablo’s bold comment.
Simone smacked Pablo on the arm in a loving manner and watched the range of emotions travel across Samaar’s blushing face.
“He’s not my man!” All three of them laughed. Samaar’s mind saw flashes of she and Luke making love in the hot springs in the Las Vegas desert. “I’m blaming this conversation on the Kir Royale. No more champagne for me.”
Gauloises cigarettes and the odd cigar wafted towards their private dining area. Laughter erupted glasses clinked, and silverware shimmered in the soft candlelight. Samaar couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself like this.
Pablo had discussed Samaar with Simone in the past. He had some idea of her career choices. As far as the international intelligence community was concerned Samaar had died. But rumors of sightings had been discussed. As Pablo rose in the French government, he’d made discreet inquiries. Once you were a friend of Pablo, you were a friend for life.
Something had happened a year back at the Paris private airport Le Bourget. He’d tried to talk to Simone about it. At the request of an old friend, an ex-Prime Minister of France, Simone had given up teaching and taken a position in French Intelligence. It turned out to be a good fit. She was currently the head of DGSI, the French Security Agency the equivalent of the CIA. She would never reveal anything that would jeopardize the security of the République Française. She’d merely smiled. But this was before the elections. They could be more open with each other now that Pablo was the President of France. He found it particularly intriguing that someone roughly matching Samaar’s description, had worked for the Mossad and was missing, considered dead.
“It’s late, and this has been a most amazing evening. Thank you for everything.” Samaar leaned over to kiss her friend Simone on each cheek, and to shake hands with the President. Instead, he reached in and gave her a hug.
“Let’s meet for coffee in the morning. Come to the Palais. I want to read this file thoroughly, and if I have questions, we can call your man, and he can answer them!”
Samaar shook her head and smiled at her friends.
“À demain.”
The armored Mercedes waited by the same back exit. Little did Luci know that Luke also had an entire assault team watching her the whole time. Luci left discreetly.
Fifteen minutes later she asked her driver to drop her at the entrance to the metro five blocks from her flat. He raised his eyebrows, but she was a professional. He hoped she knew what she was doing, or Raven would fire him. Nah, if anything happened to Samaar, he would kill him.
Luci needed to walk the streets and clear her head. Eventually she entered her flat on Rue Logebach and showered for bed. She tapped a message into her phone.
“Further discussion at the Élysée in the morning. Jet lag.”
She looked down at her phone and added, “Thank you for the pearls.”
She placed her Glock on her night table the stiletto under her pillow. She tried to fall asleep.
After a half hour of tossing and turning she got up.
20
West Seattle, WA
LUKE’S MEN WATCHED from the shore. They were unsure how skilled the woman was; she was out too far and seemed to be struggling against the currents in Puget Sound.
“What’s the update? We’re in the air, ETA fifteen minutes.”
“We need eyes on her, so we can take our vehicle from the road in front of the house and get her when she comes to shore. She’ll need to stay out of the shipping lanes. We’re parked out of sight, so she’ll think we’ve given up.” Luke’s operative knew his stuff. His most recent mission required rescuing three kidnaps victims, an exec, and his wife and two-year-old girl in the mountains in South America. Some very grateful mountain lions now feasted on the cadavers of six nasty cartel kidnappers.
“Okay. Wait a second.” Luke turned to Jack. “Any locators on your kayaks?”
“Yes! I forgot about that.” Jack pulled out his phone, tapped in some codes and a screen lit up. “There.”
“Good. Share with my onboard.”
He tapped his second line and spoke with his security team.
“You’ve got a visual coming in. Watch for it and watch for the woman. There’s a road along Alki Beach. Stay along the beach road. Park by the side street at Starbucks and stay mobile. Don’t get out of your car until I tell you.”
Luke flew the latest Sikorsky prototype. He’d helped design specific state-of-the-art features that allowed it to run almost stealth. Raven also added very creative technology that could change the skin of their craft. He thought about that now. He wanted to cause as little attention as possible. The Seattle Weather Channel would work.
He flew at top speed. Whatever was going on, he needed to speak to this woman. She was a loose end, and Luke was sure whoever grabbed the doctor would now come for her.
“Luke, we’ve got a problem.”
“I’m closing in. I should have a visual in 3 minutes.”
“I’m not sure you have 3 minutes. The doctor's got a high-speed boat heading right towards her. It doesn’t look good.”
“Okay, I see her now. Create a diversion so all eyes will be off the water. Then one of you, make that speedboat take on water. But don’t blow it up. We want to keep the shore attention away from the girl for as long as possible. And find the other half of the bad guys wherever they’re waiting for the speedboat to return. Neutralize them.”
“Jack, she’ll recognize your voice. She’s too far from shore, and we have no idea who’s waiting nearby. So, I’m going down with the basket and bring her up. Tell her we’re search and rescue but use her name.” He nodded to Maggs.
“Take the controls. Hold steady.”
The approaching speedboat suddenly swerved back towards shore rapidly taking on water and sinking lower in the sea. As a result of the speedboat’s abrupt change of course, the waves caused Sahar’s kayak to overturn.
Maggs kept the Sikorsky hovering while Luke stripped. The electron
ic winch lowered quickly until it stopped five feet above the waves. A shot rang out, and Dr. Sahar went under. Luke motioned for Maggs to drop the device all the way. He dove in. He could barely hear Jack’s voice before he hit the cold waters of the Puget Sound.
He came to the surface looking for the girl. Maggs set a laser light where she’d last been seen, and he swam towards the spot. The girl struggled to the surface terrified but unharmed, waving to Jack to let him know she heard him. Another shot rang out from shore, but Maggs could see Raven’s team moving in on the shooters.
The speedboat had sunk, and there was no sign of its occupants.
Luke kicked towards the girl. She was shivering and pale. He pulled her towards the basket, yelling in her ear that he was here with Jack. He shoved her over the side of the basket, grabbed hold of the bottom and motioned for Maggs to take them up. Luke grasped the metal cage, pulled his legs up and looked out towards the shore. His men would capture the shooter if they could and get the hell out of there before the Seattle Police showed up.
They were both pulled to safety inside the Sikorsky and immediately headed back to Luke’s base in Anacortes.
21
SeaTac Airport, Seattle, WA
DR. AZAR ARRIVED very early for his flight to Paris. He cursed the day the US Agents had walked into his lab. He wished he’d spoken to Jack Stone, the head of the Foundation but he didn’t like to bother the busy billionaire. It was too late now. When he got to Paris, he’d discuss it with his brother who had friends in high places. He’d know what to do.
The doctor agreed to make the transfer at the airport upon proof that his family was safe. He closed the call from his assistant Sahar.
He found it strange that the agents had chosen to say they were from Homeland Security. Why not show their Federal badges like they had used with him? He supposed with Homeland Security identification and uniforms they could move freely through the airport with weapons.
“We always look after citizens who are loyal to the US Government. We’re pleased to tell you that your brother from Syria is waiting for you with your other family members.”
The doctor was skeptical and tried not to show it. His wife stood off to the side occasionally checking her watch, oblivious to the private conversation her husband was having with the authorities.
“Here. Let me show you a photograph taken of your family having dinner last night at Les Deux Magots in Paris. Soon the three brothers will be united again.”
“Paris? They are already in Paris?” For the first time in twenty-four hours, Dr. Azar smiled. He’d worked in the United States for so many years, first as a biology professor at the prestigious Cornell University. Then when Dr. Azar completed several post-doctorate courses, he’d been advised to accept the position at the Foundation. He wanted to give back to the world and was assured that the immunization programs and state-of-the-art technology would give him the personal and professional satisfaction he was looking for. And it did, until the day he had visitors from a highly classified branch of the US Government.
He signed a non-disclosure agreement. A project was presented to him that required his expertise with the full endorsement of the Government of the United States of America. And in return, they offered to secure his Syrian brother's passage—with his family—from war-torn Damascus. His job was to engineer the ultimate bio-weapon.
“The challenge is in the delivery.” The agents had been from Syria. He expected the government thought he would be more comfortable with gentlemen who could speak to him in his own language.
The brief was to create a bioweapon that was easily concealable; one that could be carried by the military on the ground and could be dispersed in a slow-release manner not drawing attention to how it had been delivered. The agents had provided the basis of a formula that he was to use to create the weapon. How the military would deploy it was not his concern.
They explained that what Dr. Azar would create could eliminate a complete Jihadist base of operations, for example, or an ISIS training camp. Thousands would die within 24-48 hours.
He’d done his research. In the US there were hundreds of bio-weapons labs. Some were higher profile than others. The Foundation’s work was ostensibly for vaccines, but it made sense that the owner being a patriot and philanthropist, would want to help America. And like most private citizens he would want to be oblivious to the process of developing a bioweapon. Who would want this on their mind?
He followed instructions and sent an email when the weapon was ready. Then he’d received a phone call explaining what to do next. They told him to book a trip to Paris where he could enjoy a holiday with his family, and the other brother from Syria who would who be waiting to see him by the time he arrived.
“We have arranged a more private place outside the airport to do the exchange. Come with us. You will be back in plenty of time to make your flight.”
The Syrian agents observed Dr. Azar power up his computer in an indistinct room at the SeaTac Holiday Inn Express. All they needed was the final adaptations to the formula. He copied the information onto a thumb drive. And the agents stood by as the doctor deleted any files he had on his computer. The deadly prototype sat on the non-descript desk in a shielded container. Dr. Azar seemed to hesitate; but then he thought about the journey to Paris and his third brother whom he hadn’t seen in ten years.
Ahmed handed the thumb drive to his partner and closed the Nike sports bag that held the deadly prototype. He was particularly proud of his photo-shopped image of the doctor’s family. The doctor might not be so helpful if he was aware that his brother, a top Syrian scientist, was missing and presumed dead in Syria.
Suddenly the agent's cell phone vibrated.
He read his message, shook his head and shared it with his partner.
The doctor’s assistant was missing.
22
Raven Headquarters, WA
“THE MANDATE WAS to develop a slow release bioweapon. In other words, the victims would not know anything was wrong until 12-24 hours after they’d been exposed. As the first twenty-four hours progressed, flu-like symptoms would be easily shared with everyone in the victims’ circle of influence. So, imagine a sports venue 100,000 people and everyone they’d have contact with over the next 24 hours… potentially 1,000,000 people. It was kind of genius actually. We were proud to help the government design this. Just the threat of using such a weapon would keep our adopted country safe.” Sahar said the last in utter despair.
Luke watched Jack’s face turn white. He thought the man might have a heart attack.
“And the antidote?”
“They said we were to perfect all aspects of the weapon and its delivery. And in the interests of national security, the antidote would be developed at another top-secret facility.” Sahar started to shake. She stared at Luke and then Jack. “What have we done?”
All three sat in silence.
“What surprises me is that they didn’t take you. Why is that?”
“I wasn’t supposed to know anything about this. I could assist, but the Dr. was forbidden to tell me what we were working on. Then one evening last week, I think something was bothering him. And he told me everything.” Her voice shook with the terror of it all.
“Where did he keep his research? We’ve been all over his files online and can’t find a thing.” Jack was distraught.
“He used a separate encrypted laptop provided by the Government.” She stopped mid-sentence. “These men weren’t from the American government, were they?”
Neither man answered. Dr. Faisal shook her head.
“Don’t worry. If Dr. Azar connected that computer to any of your equipment, we can get into it. There will be files backed up. Remember, we set up your entire secure network. We’ll find something. Sahar. You will help. Sometimes you don’t realize what you know. And once we get a bite, RB will follow the trail.”
Luke got up. “Anyone want coffee?” Sahar nodded.
“Luke!”
>
“Yes. RB what’s up?”
“With the information, we pieced together on Dr. Azar, we’ve created a family tree. That top-secret intel job we’re doing for DGSI France, the one we can’t tell anyone about, listening to French citizens…”
“Yes.”
“Well, I was listening to a flagged message that came into the home of one of the Embassy officials. When I looked closely at the name, I realized we have a connection to this family and Jack’s scientist! You need to hear this message. I don’t know how it’s relevant yet. But I know it’s important. I will bring it up to you. Maggs is working on the identification of the speaker.”
23
Paris, France
IT WAS CLOSE to midnight when Luci pulled on workout pants, a black Lycra t-shirt, and her runners. She clasped her ebony hair into a ponytail and placed her knife in an easily accessible custom carrier on her body. Luci put her iWatch on black, made sure the Internet was working and pulled up Google earth. She mapped out a challenging route and quietly exited her building.
The courtyard in the back was perfect. Luci took off at a run efficiently scaling the uneven hundred-year-old Greystone wall. The city slept, and no one was looking for a darkly clad figure parkouring around the 17th Arrondissement. When she’d lived in Paris as a student, it was her favorite thing to do at night.
She crouched like a panther, plotting every move. She scaled a pitched roof then took an easy jump from one edifice to another. At one point she hesitated flush with the roof at the edge of a row of chimneypots. Sirens wailed. A police vehicle raced through a red light on the corner and kept on going down Rue Courcelles.