“I should call Aunt Vivi,” Faith interjected. “She can talkto her Lotus Circle friends and ask them to help her check any instances ofthis with other members. They can tap into the website and see if anything’sbeen posted.”
“Don’t forget Andy’s friend,” Mia added. “The one whose auntlives in Wisconsin and is a Lotus Circle member. She helped me a lot when I wastrying to control my visions, remember?”
“The Lotus Circle also helped me discipline my telepathicabilities when Mark was held prisoner and I was getting his messages.” She tooka sip of wine. “I wonder how many people know an ancient society has been resurrectedand spread throughout the world via the internet, that its members are peoplewith special abilities, like mine and Mia’s, people always ready to help eachother and provide assistance and comfort when necessary.”
“Not as many as we’d like,” Mia mused, “but it’s growingmore every day. If more people knew about it, I wouldn’t have had such a hardtime getting the police to let me work with them when Chase Carpenter’s robotwas about to be stolen.”
Dan chuckled. “It was their loss. In the end, you were theone who had the answers.”
“Considering what’s happening with Rick right now,” Markinterjected, “we might do well to explore the situation with the dog further.Do we have a phone number for Kelly? And do we know what kind of person sheis?”
“I’ll get Andy to run a complete check on her,” Dan said.“What’s on your mind, if you’ll pardon the pun? I can almost see the wheelsturning.”
“I’d like to talk to her first. She’s not part of the agencyand we rarely use outsiders for a job. But Rick could certainly use a dangersensor.”
Faith’s jaw dropped. “Surely you aren’t thinking of askingher to go to Iraq, are you? My God, Mark. Throwing her into a situation likethat? We don’t even know anything about her. What kind of person she is. And ifthere really is this connection between the dog and Rick.”
“I think it’s worth finding out. Why don’t you go ahead andcall Aunt Vivi and see what the Lotus Circle’s take on this business with the dogis.”
“Good idea.” She pushed her chair back from the table. “I’llcall her right now.”
“Good.” Mark turned his attention to Mia. “Then I think youmight give Kelly a call and kind of sound her out about everything. The Psiconnection,” he added hastily. “Not Iraq. We’re not there yet.”
“I wish Rick hadn’t insisted on still taking the shipmentover himself,” Dan said. “He’s banged up and someone’s after his hide. Not agood combination.”
“I’ve seriously considered delaying delivery,” Dan saidthoughtfully, “but Rick’s got security at Grainger Caldwell trained and readyfor the goods in this shipment and champing at the bit. He also was veryemphatic that they can’t survive much longer without them.”
Mark swallowed the rest of his wine and set the glass downcarefully. “I know Grainger Caldwell is headquartered at Baghdad InternationalAirport but rebuilding roads is their first order of business so they needoutposts for the workers. And people to guard them. Do you have copies here ofthe places where they set up shop?”
“Yes.” Dan pushed his chair back. “I’ll get them. I emailedeverything to myself before we left the office.”
“I’ll call Harry and get as much information on hisgranddaughter as I can. Then we’ll let Mia do her thing on the phone. She’ll knowhow to handle it.”
* * * * *
The overseas phone call between Zarife’s benefactor and theman’s contact in Iraq was not progressing as well as either one of them hoped.
“You’d better make sure you have this timed better than anymilitary operation you ever ran,” the man in D.C. said. “We can’t afford evenone mistake.”
“I gave you the lead on the buyer and I can vouch for hisreadiness,” the man in Iraq protested. “Other than that, there’s only so much Ican do.”
“If this goes south, it’s on your head. I can’t afford eventhe slightest connection to this.”
“You’re already connected to it.”
“But you and I are the only ones who know that. Rememberthat.”
“And Zarife al-Dulami.”
“It’s in Zarife’s best interests to forget he ever met me.He knows that. I checked him out very carefully. I don’t believe we’ll have anytrouble with him or his family.”
“What about me? What happens to me when this is all over?Once I’m gone, there’s no hiding anything.”
“You can check your bank account before the event happens.The day before I’ll transfer enough money to keep you in women and boozeanywhere in the world for the rest of your life. That ought to take care of anyreservations you have. You still have the same plan for getting the goods awayfrom BIAP?”
“Yes. We talked about this, didn’t we? We’ll take the goodsto Baqubah first. It’s only thirty miles from Baghdad and the people holdingthe city are friendly to us. Al-Dulami will meet us there with his people totake delivery before moving everything to the Zagros Mountains. It’s a placewhere no one will ask us questions. What’s my transport out of there? I surecan’t stick around Baghdad.”
“I’ve arranged for a week in Baqubah at the home of a friendof al-Dulami’s, just until things quiet down. Then we’ll get you out of thereto any place you want. You can check your bank account on your laptop so youknow the money’s in place.”
“Why the delay? You aren’t trying to screw around with me,are you?”
“Hell, no. You’d find me and gut-shoot me. But I’ll be underthe microscope and I don’t want any threads leading to you.”
There was a long pause. “All right,” the man in Iraq said.“I’ll call you when I’ve got it all set up. What about Latrobe?”
“Ah, yes, the man with nine lives. If we can’t take him outhere, you’ll have to do it on your end. He knows too much about what goes onover there. If he spotted that information you so carelessly left up on yourcomputer screen, we can’t leave him alive to connect the dots. He couldremember it at any time. Besides, someone has to take the fall for this. Makeit look as if he’s the one and one of his own thieves shot him. That alwaysplays well.”
“Kill him here? Are you crazy?”
“Not at all. I leave the method up to you.”
“What about his friends? They’ll be raging mad.”
“Let them. He’s the one with the knowledge.”
“Just make sure the al-Dulamis are ready to take delivery.”He paused. “You know there’ll be fallout.” The voice of the man in Iraq washard and unyielding.
“I can handle it. Just do your part and we’ll be fine.”
* * * * *
Greg Jordan wondered if Mike D’Antoni would ever realizethat their reunion wasn’t quite as accidental as he’d thought. It had takenresearch and maneuvering on Greg’s part to make it happen.
He’d been fully briefed on the situation. The GraingerCaldwell temporary compound sat at one far corner of Baghdad InternationalAirport, otherwise known as BIAP. A place where planes landed and took off onan irregular schedule at any time of the day or night. Baking beneath theunrelenting hot summer sun, the compound was surrounded by temporary concretebarriers more than fifteen feet high, rimmed at the top with razor-sharpconcertina wire.
Photos showed the area contained five main buildings—adouble-wide manufactured home that served as the headquarters of the Iraq operation,two hastily constructed dormitories that housed security people andconstruction crews in a less than desirable situation and two warehouses, onefor arms and equipment and another for the company’s construction equipment.More than half of the people were hired locally, which meant someone proficientin languages was an essential component of the team.
The rush by private contractors to partake of the billionsof dollars available had begun the moment the government had made theannouncement. The giants had taken their bite of the pie, leaving the rest forthe smaller companies like Grainger Caldwell.
Jordan was well
aware that after months of lobbying hissenator and congressmen, Charlie Grainger had emerged from a meeting with afistful of lucrative contracts to rebuild roads and bridges as well asconstruct electrical substations and water plants. He expected the job to keephim both busy and in high cotton for several years. He and his partner hadspent a long night celebrating, then settled down to get to work.
He also knew Matt Caldwell had wanted to set up their ownsecurity and train their own people using their corporate security staff.Charlie argued a war was still being fought in Iraq and they needed someonewith the necessary expertise to tell them what they needed and then set it up.He insisted on hiring Phoenix to set up the security needed to guard theequipment, the compound and the work areas and, in fact, had demanded that RickLatrobe personally ramrod it. He had confidence in him and pointed out thesuccessful job he’d done setting up and training the Grainger Caldwellcorporate security force. And maintaining it.
So Greg Jordan’s benefactor, the man who was going to sethim up in the ultimate lifestyle, had given him his orders. He’d engineered themeeting with Mike and gotten himself hired to ramrod the operation in Baghdad.Greg had then been introduced to Rick Latrobe and the two had begun the arduousprocess of turning the core group of imports and the ragtag locals into a trainedsecurity force.
But there had been problems from the beginning, problemsthat Rick Latrobe had been a pain in the ass about. Problems recruiting enoughqualified locals. Greg snorted. Qualified. What a joke that was. Every thug inthe country saw this as a license to kill. Problems with fighting off poachingby other contractors. Problems with the locals they recruited. Greg had foundan Iraqi who, luck of luck, was acceptable to Latrobe. He and Greg haddeveloped a relationship and they’d recruited a sufficient number of bodies.Even then, Latrobe had been a hard-ass about the training, pissing off a lot ofpeople.
“We’re on the clock,” he kept reminding Greg. “We have to beready when the first crew and equipment gets here.”
And they had been, after a fashion. Greg somehow kept itcobbled together and things were working. At least as well as could beexpected. A cargo plane had delivered both construction crew and equipment justthis week. Guarded by the newly minted GC Security, they’d begun the arduousprocess of surveying the areas where they’d be working. But Greg knew Rick wasplanning to tell Charlie Grainger if they wanted security to work well theyneeded more imports from the good old U.S. of A.
Greg privately conceded he was right but that didn’t fit intoo well with the plans he was putting in place. And he found them even harderto work with than the natives, probably because they were by-the-book ineverything they did.
Walking from the bedroom that had been converted to anoffice, he poured himself another cup of coffee and carried it back to hisdesk. Leaning back in his chair, he put his booted feet up on the desk, closedhis eyes and began to run all the recent situations through his mind, lookingfor solutions. Sometimes he wondered if he shouldn’t just chuck it all and goback to Montana. Then he remembered the pot of gold waiting for him and suckedit up.
A knock sounded on the front door and he hollered, “Comein.”
Amin, his main contact and top local lieutenant, came in,frowning.
“Problems?” Greg asked.
“Not so many. But some. A few.”
Greg bit down on his impatience. “Well, which is it?”
Amin spread out his hands. “My people say they are not beingpaid enough money and many of them want to quit.”
Greg sat up so quickly his feet slammed to the floor,shaking the trailer. “You remind your people they’re making more moneythan they’ve seen in a long time. Two hundred dollars a month. And if theyfollow all the rules, they’ll continue making it. Period. If not, they can takea hike and we’ll find others.” He waved his hand in the general direction ofthe outer perimeter.
“But they know the Americans are making much more,” heinsisted.
“The Americans have been doing this for a long time. Wedidn’t have to train them from scratch. What else?”
“They are also worried about being blamed for the weaponsthat have disappeared.” Amin’s face was completely expressionless as he spoke.
“If they didn’t take them, they have nothing to worry about.We know the deal. Right?”
Amin nodded wordlessly.
“If they have any idea who they think took them, youtalk to them and kill their speculation. Assure them no blame will fall ontheir shoulders.”
Yeah, right, he thought to himself. Who else toblame in the end besides Latrobe?
“Yes, yes, yes.” Amin was eager in his need to please. “Iwill talk to them at once. At once. All will be settled before that bigshipment arrives next week. I know all must go smoothly.”
“Ah, yes. The shipment.” Greg dug a thick cigar from hispocket and stuck it in his mouth. He wouldn’t smoke inside with the ventilationas chancy as it was but the cigar always gave him a feeling of security andcontrol. “Glad you brought that up. Tomorrow I want everyone here in themorning half an hour before the usual starting time. We’re ready to have abriefing before they disperse to their regular positions.” He held Amin in hisgaze. “You understand, right?”
Amin nodded.
“Tell them I may have a little something extra for those youthink can follow orders especially well.” He narrowed his eyes at Amin. “Andyou can tell them that anyone who performs exceptionally well during theprocess of receiving and distributing the cargo on that plane will receive abonus. That should satisfy the bloodsuckers who complain to you and keep themoff our backs for the moment. But be sure you keep an eye on how they offloadthe cargo.”
“Thank you so much. Thank you.” Amin smiled. “I will makesure everyone understands.”
“You do that. And don’t forget about Latrobe. The sellerwants it all on his shoulders, so he can’t be left alive to answer questionsabout it.”
“I would not want any problem as far as the seller isconcerned.” The smile he gave Greg was sly and knowing. “I would like to tellhim myself when the job is completed with success.”
Greg pointed his cigar at him. “You just forget all aboutthat, you hear? We never had that conversation. And if you open your mouth,it’ll be the last thing you say.”
Amin inclined his head. “It shall be as you wish.”
Greg leaned back in his chair as soon as the door closedbehind Amin. The shipment. He wasn’t sure if he looked forward to it with dreador anticipation.
* * * * *
Phone calls complete, the four of them reconvened at thedining room table for coffee and an exchange of information.
“She trains guard dogs,” Mark said, looking down at hisnotes. He’d been busy on the phone with Andy, master of the Phoenix Agency’ssupercomputer, the Dragon. It was Andy’s claim that nothing and no one couldhide from the Dragon and he’d certainly, with his skills, made believers of thepartners.
Mia raised an eyebrow. “Guard dogs?”
“Uh-huh. She has a big farm with a state-of-the-art kennel.Most of her clients are people who live in isolated areas or high-profilecorporate CEOs and politicians.”
Dan grinned. “I wouldn’t think politicians would need them.They could bite people themselves.”
“Some of the ones I know could fit the bill,” Faith put in.In her desperate hunt to mount a rescue operation for Mark, she’d uncoveredpolitical corruption that was still generating fallout. “Anyway, what else didAndy give you about Kelly Monroe?”
“Her father was Harry’s son.” Mark went on. “They werekilled in the crash of a light plane. Her dad was flying.”
“Ouch,” Mia said. “That must have been devastating. How oldwas she?”
“Twenty. That was eight years ago. She inherited their farm,set up a business and finished college online.”
“Set up a business? Did she know anything about trainingdogs at all? It isn’t just something you go into on a whim.”
Mark helped himself to coffee from the carafe on th
e table.“Apparently she’s always been a dog person. Worked with some guy since she wasfourteen. He helped her get set up. A year later she got the Ovcharka.”
Dan frowned. “Unusual occupation for a woman by herself.” Heheld up a hand as both women opened their mouths to speak. “Just a comment, nota criticism.”
“Well,” Mark said, “it seems she’s damned good at it. She’sgot a very impressive list of clients. But I’ve saved the best for last.”
“And what’s that?” his wife wanted to know.
“You’ll never guess where she grew up. Where her farm islocated.” He looked around the table. “Any takers? No? Okay. She’s about fiftymiles from Bangor, Maine, maybe ten minutes from the road to the cabin.”
Everyone stared at him.
“Her folks didn’t really farm,” he went on. “The place hadbeen in the family for generations. Her father was a guide for hunters. He flewthem into camps in northern Maine, then picked them up again. Sometimes hermother went along and they’d go into New Brunswick or over to Prince EdwardIsland. The border patrol knew him very well.”
“How come we never saw her before?” Dan asked. “Or noticedher place when we were up there?”
Mark pulled an aerial photo from his stack and passed itaround the table. “Andy emailed this to me from the satellite imagery we had instock. I marked the road to the cabin. If you look here,” he retrieved thephoto and pointed, “you’ll see there’s a barely visible road in this heavystand of pine trees. It’s practically hidden from the road.”
“Practically?” Faith shook her head in amazement. “It’stotally invisible. You’d have to know where you were going to even find it.”
“Has she ever reported Psi incidents with her dog?” Miaasked.
“No,” Mark told her. “She’s pretty close-mouthed. A loner,from what I can tell. But the weird thing is the way her dog linked with Rick.That’s unheard of with Ovcharkas.” He looked at both women. “Her name, by theway, is Xena.”
Mia and Faith grinned back and high-fived each other.
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