by Liliana Hart
Ethan brought up another screen that had nothing but jumbled letters and numbers on it, and he typed in a long series of codes until words formed. He was locked into the investigating agent’s computer, reading his report even as the man was adding to it.
“Homeland Security has already filed Sloane’s death as top-level security and they’re testing the body, or what’s left of it, as we speak,” Ethan said. “They’ve searched his home and office, but Sloane wasn’t stupid. They won’t find what they’re looking for, and if Kimball’s scientist recreated The Passover Project in its entirety, then the doctors testing Sloane’s body will find no trace of what killed him.”
“If Homeland Security looks hard enough, they’ll find Sloane’s ties to Standridge. There are too many connections between his corporations and the experiments. Even his interest in Frank Bennett. They’ll know he was involved in something he shouldn’t have been.” It was the first time Grace had spoken since they’d come downstairs.
“Every file you could think of that might possibly lead the agents investigating in the right direction has been wiped clean,” Ethan said.
“They’ll bury Sloane as a damned hero,” Jack said, tossing down his cards and standing up to join them in front of the screen. “And no one will ever know that the man who was third in line for the Presidency was a terrorist. He would have had control of the world in just a matter of years.”
“Now that honor belongs to Kimball,” Ethan said.
“Not if we get to him first,” Gabe said. “And the end justifies the means. We know the kind of man Sloane was, and he’s paid in full for his crimes. We’ve got to focus on Kimball. What have you got on possible auction sites?” he asked Ethan.
Ethan cleared the three screens of Sloane’s death and went back to work at his computer. “I know Kimball has got something in the works. I tapped into his secure phone line and have been piggybacking his calls since I couldn’t eavesdrop through conventional means, and I’ve deciphered his code enough to know that the auction will take place in three days at sunset. What I don’t know is where it’s going to be.”
“What are the options?” Grace asked. “And do you know who’s going to be in attendance?”
“I’m putting the list of attendees up on screen one, though I’m not a hundred percent sure that’s everyone.”
A list of eight names came on the screen—seven men and one woman—and Jack let out a low whistle. “No, that pretty much looks like everyone. The ones on this list are the only ones who could afford to meet Kimball’s price.”
Gabe took Grace’s hand when he saw Tussad’s name on the list, and she gently squeezed his fingers in reassurance.
“They’ll want to see a demonstration,” Logan said. “Sloane’s death won’t be proof enough for them because the details have been covered up. They’ll demand to see what it can actually do. The auction site will have to be secure for several hours so they can see the weapon work from start to finish.”
“And they’ll want to be comfortable,” Grace said. “The people on this list won’t give up creature comforts for that long. They’ll expect to be wined and dined and given proper accommodations. It’ll be like a damned summit meeting for terrorists.”
“The first possible location is in Kiev,” Ethan said.
“No,” Gabe and Grace said together.
“Alexi Sokolov has a home in Kiev,” Gabe explained. “He’s on your guest list. Kimball won’t show partiality by making the auction in one of the attendees’ hometowns. It needs to be neutral territory.”
“Ooookay,” Ethan said. “Here are the other two options.”
The wall screens filled with information and photographs, and they all took in the information, processing what they knew about Kimball and the rest of his guests.
“India or Morocco,” Jack said. “What do you think, Gabe? I know you know enough about all of these guys to have formed impressions.”
“Ethan, do a search for property acquired in the last two weeks, either as a rental or a purchase,” Gabe said. “In Morocco,” he added. “Kimball will have purchased it after his scientist had completed the weapon. He’ll want opulence that borders on ostentatious because this is the first time he’s meeting these people as an equal. He’s always worked for them before, and he’ll want to show off a bit. Eliminate anything worth less than five million American.”
“Run a second check on staff,” Grace said.
Ethan looked at her in confusion, and she explained. “If he’s hosting an event of this magnitude, then he’ll need a well-trained staff as well as security. They’ll need to know how to keep their mouths shut, but they’ll need to be excellent at their jobs. Check and see where William Sloane’s staff is now. That would be the easiest transition. Not to mention they’ll all be terrified to go against Kimball after seeing what he did to their boss.”
“I knew there was a good reason for you to be here, Red,” Jack said, pulling at her braid. “You know all about that womanly stuff.”
Gabe knew that was as close to an apology as Jack would ever make, and he could tell Grace knew it too by the way she patted Jack on the arm in response.
“Bingo on both accounts,” Ethan said. “A twelve bedroom villa was purchased in Tangier eleven days ago. Paid with an electronic fund transfer from an account in the Caymans, and it’s worth an approximate 7.2 million Euros. It has an ocean view from all sides of the estate. It also has a white tiger sanctuary and an underwater dining room.”
“That sounds ostentatious enough for me,” Gabe said. “What about Sloane’s staff?”
“I’m getting there. Geez. A little praise every now and then wouldn’t kill you.”
“Ethan,” Gabe growled.
“Yeah, yeah. Screen two.” He flicked his fingers across the keyboard again and a picture of a man in formal attire came on the screen.
“This is Nigel Peters,” Ethan said. “His background includes the Royal Air Force as well as extensive training in London’s premier school for butlers. He’s an expert marksman, and the Royal Family used him for his bodyguard and butler skills for several years before Sloane lured him away. Peters landed in Morocco ten days ago, according to his passport. Several of Sloane’s household staff followed Peters.”
“The auction begins in three days’ time,” Gabe said, pacing back and forth in front of the wall screens, his mind racing with possibilities. “How long did it take Sloane to die after his initial collapse on stage?”
He heard Ethan tapping and turned to face him. Ethan chewed at his lip and pushed his glasses repeatedly up his nose as he searched for the answer. “It looks like it took a little over forty-seven minutes from start to finish.”
“We need to find out who Kimball would use for his demonstration,” Gabe said. “It’ll need to be someone of importance, or it won’t have meaning.”
“It’ll be one of his guests,” Grace said. “Kimball will want to let them know that he has power. He’s not auctioning off one weapon. He’s auctioning off a formula that can be recreated at any time as long as they have the proper components. He’ll make sure everyone at that meeting knows he will have the ability to control their actions and their own use of the weapon. He’s just put himself in the position of being the world’s number one enemy.”
“Okay, so you have to assume that none of the guests will arrive more than twenty-four hours before the auction,” Jack said. “They’re not a trustworthy group of people, and they’ll want to arrive in time to see the weapon work, and then they’ll all plan to leave immediately following. It’s how auctions like this normally go.”
“All the guests will have to arrive by ferry,” Ethan said. “Remember the house is surrounded by water.”
“Over the open water is the perfect place to release the formula into the air. They’ll all be on deck, and Kimball’s done business with all of them before, so he’s had plenty of opportunity to get DNA samples. Hell, he probably has a whole arsenal of DNA samples.”
Gabe thought of the painting and the bag he’d handed off to Kimball and knew without a doubt that Kimball had his own DNA. Grace’s, too.
“We can’t fail,” Gabe said. “We can’t let the weapon go live, even if the target is a terrorist. We still don’t know enough about The Passover Project to be sure it won’t have residual effects on others in the area. Our mission is to stop the launch and take out Kimball before the formula changes hands.”
“So Kimball isn’t to be spared?” Grace asked.
“We take him out. And we take out Kimball’s scientist. He’ll have him close by. All traces of the Passover Project must be destroyed. Logan will help us with that.”
Gabe recognized the look on Grace’s face. It was the look she got when she’d run every possible scenario in her head and come up with the best solution. He knew what she was going to say before she opened her mouth because it was exactly the conclusion he’d come to.
“How big is the island, Ethan?” she asked.
“A little over two miles in all directions,” he answered.
“I can take the long shot and get Kimball. Whoever launches the weapon will have to be taken out up close and personal to make sure The Passover Project is properly neutralized. But Kimball is too dangerous to engage with one-on-one. I can take him out.”
Silence filled the room, and Gabe stood ready to interfere if things got out of hand. He still had the safety of the mission to consider first and foremost, but he also had Grace to consider. He’d asked her to join the team because she was the best at what she did, even though Ethan and Logan had never seen her skill. He was more than prepared to remind them.
“I disagree,” Jack said.
Gabe tightened his fists at his sides out of pure reflex but decided to let his friend have his say before he beat him to a pulp.
“I think Kimball will expect you to be there,” Jack continued. “He’ll know what your strengths are. There’s no way he’s going to make himself an easy target for you. He’ll have someone like Peters launch the aerosol, but he’ll stay indoors and force us to come to him if we want him. You can be cleanup if we run into trouble.”
Gabe relaxed completely and nodded in agreement at the logic behind Jack’s argument. A position like that would take the pressure off Grace in case she worried about having another breakdown, but being given a job had also saved her pride. Jack was probably the most insightful of all of them when it came to other people’s feelings, and he was grateful to him for recognizing that Grace needed to be a part of the team right now.
“Do you have an aerial shot of the island?” Logan asked.
“Hang on a sec,” Ethan said. “Screen three.”
“He’s got a helipad and the ferry,” Logan said. “I can make sure there’s not a way for him to get off the island.”
“And I suppose I’m going to be stuck here with my thumb up my ass,” Ethan said sourly. “I never get to have any of the fun.”
“You’re coming with us,” Gabe said. “You’ll run security from the boat.”
“What boat?” Ethan asked.
“I hope you don’t get seasick, kid. We’re sure as hell not making our entrance on a luxury cruiser.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tangier, Morocco
Three days later…
It was well before dawn when they arrived just outside of Kimball’s island villa, and Grace could feel the anticipation in the atmosphere—from the whole team. This was their last chance to get Kimball. Failure wasn’t an option.
The only way they could gain access to the island was by water, and they’d taken a Zodiac that was as black as night into the choppy waters. It was designed for easy travel—an inflatable craft that held six comfortably but also had the advantage of having a motor so they could move quickly if needed. It was a little cramped with Ethan’s computers and the diving gear, not to mention the cache of weapons Gabe had put in the specially built compartment at the bottom of the craft.
A storm had passed through only hours before, and it looked as if another could hit at any time. Not even a sliver of moon could be seen in the cloudy sky, and the waves rolled beneath them, rocking the boat up and down and side to side. Even as she had the thought, fat raindrops slapped against her wetsuit and seemed to bounce off the waves.
Grace wasn’t sure if Ethan was going to make it after all. He was so pale she could see his reflection and the whites of his eyes in the dark, and he was holding on to the side of the Zodiac with a death grip as his backside bounced in uncoordinated rhythms against the seat.
“The GPS shows we have about fifty meters until we reach the perimeter of Kimball’s security,” Jack said. “The Zodiac will have to stay there, and we’ll need to swim ashore.”
Gabe steered the boat so it was hidden behind a large outcropping of rocks—so no one would be able to see Ethan once the sun came up—and he turned off the motor. The rocks would also act as an anchor since the rough water was likely to make Ethan drift out further to sea if he wasn’t tied down.
Ethan fumbled with his laptops and satellite imaging, finally getting everything in place. The computers were all protected from the water by the special casing Ethan had built around them. The computer screens were all set to night vision so they didn’t give off any light, and they could only be seen with night-vision goggles.
“Equipment check, Dragon,” Gabe said through his com link.
Ethan took a big gulp of air and looked like he was about to start gagging, but he held it together and croaked out, “All satellites are up and running. Heat sensors are a go. There are a good twenty people on the island, assuming that’s only Kimball’s staff and security team. I’ve got his electronic security system online. He’s got radar that reaches out to just on the other side of this rock. Jesus, I’m going to be sick.”
“Aim for the side,” Gabe and Jack both called out, each of them completely comfortable on the rough water.
Grace handed Ethan a bottle of water to rinse out his mouth and put it in the elastic pocket by his side, figuring he’d probably need it again soon.
“I’m good.” Ethan panted as if he’d just swam the distance from shore. “I’m all right. Let’s do a com check.”
“Renegade.”
“Grim Reaper.”
“Ghost.”
“Kill Shot.”
Ethan gave the thumbs up, and Grace pulled the hood of her wetsuit over her braided hair. She tested her rebreather—a device that would let them all swim to the island without bubbles giving away their location—and she gave Gabe the thumbs up that her equipment was in good shape.
“The storm’s going to help us out some,” Ethan said just as a slash of lightning seemed to spear up out of the water only a few feet away. The smell of ozone permeated the air and clung to the skin like residue. “It’ll give me the chance to knock out different sectors of the security system so you guys can get to your designated hot spots. The weather is supposed to stay like this through tomorrow.”
Grace took out her rebreather so she could speak. “Do you think the rain will interfere with the launch of the weapon?”
“No, but it might narrow the range some,” Gabe answered. “If it’s still raining when Kimball’s guests take the ferry, then they’ll all stay under the enclosed area. Look for them to launch the aerosol as they transfer from the ferry to the island just to be on the safe side.”
Grace made sure the waterproof case holding her rifle was locked tight, and she slung it across her body so her hands would be free. One by one, they rolled out of the Zodiac and into the churning water, and once they were a good distance below the surface, Ethan check the com links once more so they could hear his instructions. He was going to be their eyes for the next little while.
They all gave Ethan the all clear signal and then waited for his signal to let them know the outer security was down.
“You’ve got five minutes to make it to the next checkpoint,” he said. “On my mark.”
Grace swam between Gabe and Jack because the power of their strokes allowed her to swim in their current and keep the same pace. They stayed beneath the surface once they reached the sandy slope that led out of the water.
“Hold tight for two minutes,” Ethan said. “I’m turning off sector two on the other side of the island just to confuse things a bit.”
Grace adjusted her position carefully, using all her strength to keep near the shore. The waves were stronger here and wanted nothing more than to fling her out to sea.
“Okay, sector two is back up, and you now have guards patrolling in some kind of vehicle. They’ve also turned the spotlights on and are circling the island. You’ll have about thirty seconds where the outer perimeter and the sector you’re about to step into will both be off.”
Grace waited for Ethan’s signal, her thigh muscles burning with the effort it took to stay close to Gabe. As soon as Ethan gave the go ahead, Gabe grabbed her arm and pulled her with him to shore. There wasn’t time to catch her breath or rest her shaking limbs. They kicked off their flippers—exposing the neoprene shoes that fit their feet like gloves—and they all ran to safety before the spotlights could circle back around.
The rain came down in sheets, and Grace ignored the cold drops as they snaked beneath the neck of her wetsuit. They dove behind a small inlet of rocks and waited for the spotlights to move on before gathering all of the rebreathers and fins and shoving them into the empty bag Jack carried on his back. They’d leave the bag hidden behind the rocks.
Grace flexed her fingers and rolled her ankles so her joints wouldn’t become stiff with the cold, and she sat with her back to the rocks to conserve her strength. Coming in and going out would be the most strenuous parts of the mission.
“The guards have gone back inside the security tower on the south side,” Ethan said through the com link. They’re tired of driving around in the rain, and I’ve made the whole system go batshit, so they think it’s an electrical malfunction.”