by Niv Kaplan
In the line of palm trees Ortega had been trying to reach, hidden from view by a large stump, Jamal, the Bedouin escort, watched in horror as the incident evolved into a colossal disaster.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Two members of the appropriations committees, Senator Stone and Congressman Giovanni, agreed to meet with Sam and his crew following deliberate lobbying by the Center’s main supporters, George Metzger and Annie Green.
To finance Colonel Harley’s mission to Kashmir and Natasha’s activities with the Romanians, they needed a million US dollars.
Sam and Mai-Li had managed to obtain support from well-placed government officials in the State Department and the CIA who promised to assist in coordinating the needed British approvals for employing Harley’s unit in Kashmir and for tracking the Romanian prostitution ring outside Romania.
Public money, however, was as always in short supply and needed to be approved and granted by the appropriate House and Senate committees. Metzger and Annie Green pulled a few strings with the staffers to allow for the meeting to take place but Sam had to supply the rationale for the expenditure.
They met in Senator Erwin Stone’s office on Capitol Hill. Congressman Richard Giovanni joined them there. Sam gave a brief preview of the Center’s activities, past and current, successes and failures, then rationalized that most failures were due to lack of resources, mainly manpower and money.
Mai-Li briefed them on the Kashmir situation and the ongoing Romanian activities and the cooperation suggested by the Romanian government.
Having been exposed to the Center’s activities in the past and having had a hand in the dismantling of Black Jack’s organization, LMC, both the senator and the congressman were sympathetic but remained reserved and non-committal during the session to the end. They did, however, agree to include the request when their respective appropriations committees next met, as a supplemental budget petition under Special Task Force operations, which was all Sam could hope for since the two could not by themselves approve the money in any event. They also promised to expedite the matter through the rest of the bureaucratic sequence if the committees voted in favor.
Luck was on their side. Both the House and Senate committees met the very next day. The petition won support by a landslide and money was appropriated after conference three days later.
Sam was notified of the decision, meeting with George Metzger for lunch in a trendy seafood restaurant in Bethesda.
“You’ve made quite a name for yourself on the Hill,” Metzger observed as he dug into his salmon, dipping it in hollandaise sauce. He was a big man with graying, wavy, red hair, a fatherly freckled face, pleasant and always smiling.
“What made them approve it so easily this time?” Sam asked.
“Stone was impressed with your no-nonsense tenacity. Giovanni liked your progress on cases, which have been lingering on his agenda a little too long. He’d been getting some heat to do something about these issues when you walked in offering to help resolve part of his problem. They were both obviously sympathetic to the cause, as anyone would be, but as you know, turning it to cash is a whole other matter.
“Also, this time, you came in prepared, with a set plan that included limits on both time and money. This was not a general petition for support over a period of time which they tend to avoid, but rather a specific focused request which they liked and we must learn from this.”
Sam took a sip from his red wine.
“We’ve got a situation brewing in the Middle East.”
Metzger lifted his gaze.
“Jack and Christine went after a mother who was jailed down in the Sinai Peninsula, a place called Dahab. She was after her boy taken by her ex. Jack and Chris went there and disappeared so I sent Ortega after them. Now it seems, he too has disappeared.”
“Any ideas?” Metzger asked.
“Not many. We have an Israeli contact down there. He assisted Ortega getting him to the Sinai, expecting him to come back out a day later but Ortega never showed up.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three days. We gave it another day but this is now well into its fourth day and we need to take action.”
“What do you need?”
“I’m short three people,” Sam reasoned. “Natasha is in Romania waiting for somebody to make a move. Mai-Li is on her way to hook up with Harley and I need to urgently figure out what’s going on down there in Egypt.”
“Go on,” Metzger said, smiling encouragingly, seeing Sam hesitate.
“I’ll need to hire someone, at least temporarily until people get back.”
“Anybody in mind?” Metzger queried, knowing Sam would be prepared.
“There’s a Greek person, a woman I knew many years ago, who showed up on my doorstep and is staying with me for a while.”
Metzger raised his eyebrows. “Do you trust her?”
“Yeah, I do.” Sam looked sideways uneasily.
Metzger studied him closely. He was well aware of Sam’s apparent celibate state since losing his wife and, knowing Sam for quite a while now, was not aware he had ever gotten close to any woman since. Sensing his uneasiness, Metzger did not want to pry. He was just hopeful for Sam.
“Hire her,” he said without hesitation. “Just make sure she gets security clearance.”
“It’ll have to be done in parallel, George. I need her right away to man the office while everyone’s away.”
“It’s your call, Sam,” Metzger said.
“She will not be exposed to any sensitive material or even be aware of what’s going on before she gets cleared. All I need her to do until things settle down is to keep us all in contact.”
“You got the Brits to cooperate?” Metzger asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah. Harley’s got the green light. Mai-Li’s CIA contacts got MI6 to cooperate on the Romanian project.”
“Then it’s not all bad.” Metzger observed.
“I’d prefer we knew where Jack and Ortega are.”
“When are you going down there?”
“As soon as I get Elena settled. No later than tomorrow evening on a flight to Tel Aviv.”
“You keep me informed,” Metzger said signaling for the bill. “I’ll let Annie know what’s going on.”
The two men got up and shook hands. Sam caught a taxi to Reagan National airport to catch his US Airways shuttle flight back to New York. George Metzger remained sitting, thoughtful, for a while before his driver showed up. He could not help but wonder whether Sam was losing grip on the operation and whether he should provide additional help.
*****
The shuttle landed in La Guardia late afternoon and Sam reached his apartment in Manhattan an hour later, his cab driver doing a heroic job fighting the traffic.
Elena was making dinner. It had been a week since she arrived and already they had settled into a routine. The apartment had – remarkably - acquired a woman’s touch: flowerpots appeared in windows and niches, soft scents emerged from the bedroom and bath, tablecloths, new cushions, a full refrigerator, and even a cat Elena had found on the street.
“What’s his name?” Sam asked, throwing his briefcase on the sofa.
“Alexis, and it’s a she,” Elena answered approaching from the kitchen for a kiss and a hug.
They kissed passionately falling on the sofa, entangled in love.
“You got a job.” Sam said when the passion subsided. Elena looked up expectantly.
“With me,” he continued. “I need someone to look after things while I’m away.”
“What do you do?” she asked.
“Job description is quite covert but in general terms there’s a group of us trying to contain the spread of worldwide child kidnapping.”
He caught her gaze and knew she understood immediately.
“You’re still looking for Sammy,” she stated rather than asked.
“And others,” he said levelly.
She hesitated with her reply, studying him
for a long moment, her large brown eyes searching his own.
“This a personal crusade?” she finally asked.
“You can look at it that way if you like.”
“This has precedence over anything you’ll ever do?”
His stare hardened a trace then comprehended her concern. “I haven’t had any alternatives…”
“Would you let go if you did?”
He looked at her, puzzled.
“Would you let go if we had a child?” she clarified.
“Is this something you want?”
“Not with a man who grieves so long for his past.”
An astonished, incomprehensible look seized his face. His eyes blanked out for a moment as rage took hold yet he was unable to convey what he felt into words. His entire being was suddenly shattered by this simple statement, yet he could not argue its logic.
He got up and left the apartment, seeking anonymous solitude in the crowded streets and darkened Central Park for the better part of the night.
He hated it. Hated what she allowed herself to say to him after all the years and all the suffering he had gone through. Where was she when he needed her? She had only shown up when it suited her and only after being thrown out of her own house. What did she expect of him? What did anyone expect of him but to manage through another day of grieving for his long lost family? Wasn’t that suffering enough?
He stopped at a bench where two squirrels played, chasing one another, but stood brooding, seeing nothing. Did he ever stop and consider what would happen when he did find Sammy Junior? The boy may be quite happy and content with his life. May love whoever raised him. May not even be aware these were not his biological kin. What would he do then? Rip him away from his natural habitat and cause him only more suffering?
And Michelle? She would probably have urged him to get on with his life and not trash them away, grieving for her. What was the point of being a shadow, not engaging in life? Was he punishing himself for the sake of her memory? She would never stand for that. She would be the first to push him away.
He roamed the park some more then tramped the emptying streets and returned to the apartment at three in the morning. Elena was asleep on the sofa where he left her, her slender legs, bare, stretched out under an oversized T-shirt. He bent to kiss her forehead and she snapped awake. He awkwardly fell onto her, burying his face in the nave of her neck. She kissed the top of his head, hugged him and together they fell asleep until morning.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The landing strip near Inverness was barely long enough for the small Cessna to land properly. The single engine plane hit the tarmac once bounced back up in the air, leveled and bounced again several times before settling on the asphalt not too far from the end of the runway. As it turned around and headed back Mai-Li could see the little terminal building with its control tower, several small planes parked around it. As they reached their parking space a military Land Rover came racing by screeching to a halt by the side of the small plane.
The young pilot fetched his lone passenger’s backpack as Mai-Li stepped off the plane and was met by a rugged looking individual in military fatigues and a black beret.
“I’m with Harley,” the man stated, taking the backpack from the pilot. He shoved it in the back and led Mai-Li to the seat next to him. The door-less Jeep was covered with mud, Mai-Li getting all smeared as she climbed into the passenger seat.
The ride was one Mai-Li would never forget.
Harley’s man put the running vehicle into gear and roared off. Then, forgetting something, he made a hairy U-turn and screeched by the pilot once more.
“One week,” he shouted and the pilot nodded. Then they were off again to a ride that made the Cessna flight seem like a joy ride. They climbed the steep narrow dirt roads through thick forest and bleak moorlands, passing creeks and rock faces as if they were riding a horse. Mai-Li held on tight watching her driver concentrate, shifting gears and looking hard through the muddy windshield, driving at impossible speeds across the terrain.
They arrived at the training grounds an hour and a half later, Mai-Li offering a silent prayer. She guessed it was the campsite because the Jeep had stopped and the driver declared they had arrived, but she could see neither people, nor structures of any kind. They were in a small clearing surrounded by thick vegetation with what seemed like small footpaths leading into the woods. A minute later Harley appeared out of the bushes flanked by a bald, mean-looking sergeant on one side and a tall fit-looking woman on the other.
“Jimmy, get lost,” Harley said to the driver who reached for Mai-Li’s backpack and flung it on the ground. Mai-Li was barely off the Jeep when it took off, splashing mud.
“Welcome to paradise,” Harley said. “Hope Jimmy left some food in your belly. He’s a rough one, the old fox…”
Mai-Li tried to balance herself on the muddy ground but slipped just as Harley reached her. He grabbed her hand and stopped her fall, reaching with his other around her waist and swooping her up with little effort.
He put her down gently on a patch of relatively dry ground and turned to introduce his companions.
“This is Sergeant O’Leary,” he said to the embarrassed but grateful Mai-Li, “AKA ‘Lizard’ or ‘Lizzy’, known to be able to change his color to fit any terrain.”
Mai-Li stared hesitantly at the bald-headed trooper who acknowledged her with a slight nod, his face remaining blank.
“Alwyn, here,” Harley continued turning to the striking woman, “Ali for short, keeps us boys in top shape and since she is the only woman within forty miles of here, you’ll share her quarters.”
The physical conditioning instructor smiled. “Welcome,” was all she said.
“To business,” Harley went on. “The team has been briefed and has already began training. The reason you’re here is to assist putting in place the intelligence profile of the target area and the site.”
Mai-Li nodded.
“For security reasons you will meet only essential personnel. I would like to minimize your exposure to the team. The less you take away with you, the safer my team remains. Is that clear?”
Mai-Li nodded again.
“So far you’ve met myself, O’Leary, Ali, and Jimmy the driver. You’ll meet several others including two or three intelligence people and that’s it. Any contact with me or anyone else will be strictly through O’Leary or Ali. I’m asking you not to wander around anymore than is needed to go from your quarters to the Intelligence bunker and back and don’t be alarmed at strange noises in the night. You’ll eat in your room and in the Intelligence bunker. Any questions?”
“Can I talk with the outside world?”
“There’s everything you need in the Intelligence bunker. Secure phone lines, faxes, teleprinters, you name it. You’re free to use any equipment as long as you do not, under any circumstances, mention where you are or what you are involved in.”
“How long will you need me?”
“No more than a week here. I expect you’ll play some role in the actual insertion but we still need to consider that.”
“Understood,” Mai-Li said.
“One final thought,” Harley added. “I’ve allowed you here without any formal security clearance. You will be exposed to extremely sensitive material as well as observe innovative operational tactics and maneuvers. I personally trust you and admire your cause but any breach of this confidence will cause great damage to us and to our respective countries and organizations. So whatever you learn here, Mai-Li, you take to your grave.”
His gray eyes became steel when he said those final words and Mai-Li knew he would act upon it even if it meant taking her own life. Whether she liked it or not, she just walked in on a crowd that held its members accountable for life. She would walk the Earth a thorn in their side, one of a chosen few who could expose their great secret.
The responsibility suddenly weighed heavy on her shoulders. She met Harley’s gaze and bent to pick up her backpack.
Ali motioned for her to follow and the two women disappeared along the muddy trail among the dense vegetation.
“You take good care of her, Sergeant,” Harley said.
“I will, Sir,” O’Leary replied, eyeing his commander.
“Don’t you look at me like that,” Harley said to his long time SAS companion. “It’s for a good cause.”
“It certainly is, Sir.”
“Then what? Why are you smiling?” Harley asked the bald sergeant who never smiled.
“Attractive lady, isn't she, Sir?” the sergeant observed. “She’s got under your skin.”
Harley sighed. “She’s a classy lady, Liz. Looks fragile, but with as much brains and balls as anyone here. I’d let her join this outfit in a flash.”
“Pretty too,” added the sergeant, but Harley went on as if he did not hear the comment. “Anyone willing to take on this Lambda-B organization is tough enough for me.”
“Think we can stop them?” the sergeant remarked.
“We may stop them and a few others but never this ghastly trend. Children are a delicate lot, exploited since the beginning of time. Whatever we accomplish here is a drop in the sea. This will always go on.”
“Best get back to the men,” the sergeant suggested seeing Harley’s precarious mood. “They should be ready for weapon inspection and the night exercise brief.”
“I reckon we should,” Harley said as if waking out of a trance. He suddenly looked worn and tired.
“The enemy team in place?” Harley asked breaking the silence, as the two men walked through the forest.
“They will be by 1900 hours, Sir,” O’Leary answered confidently.
“Who’s in charge?”
“Mike Devlin.”
“How many people does he have?”
“Ten. One for each entrance, three on each guard tower, two guarding the prison cell, and three patrolling.”
“I’d like you to show Mai-Li the venue from the overhead camera before we commence.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
“Also, introduce her to Mike. I’d like the two of them to compare notes.”