THE PRICE SHE'LL PAY: For the secret she never knew she had...
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THE PRICE SHE’LL PAY
FOR THE SECRET SHE NEVER KNEW SHE HAD…
CARA CHARLES
SWAN’S CROSSING PRESS
CONTENTS
Part 1
CHAPTER ONE - Friday Harbor, San Juan Islands, Washington
CHAPTER TWO - BERLIN
CHAPTER THREE — Reims, France
CHAPTER FOUR — The National Archives, College Park, MD.
CHAPTER FIVE — Muse Corporation Secret Lab
CHAPTER SIX — Brothers in Arms
Chapter Seven --. Lone Pine, California
Chapter Eight -- Santa Paula, California
Chapter Nine — Try Not to Panic
Chapter Ten -- Loudoun County National Cemetery
Chapter Eleven -- Hyattsville, Maryland
Chapter Twelve -- A Day For Heroes
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chapter Fifteen -- The Prophesy
Chapter Sixteen -- A Midnight Treasure Hunt
Chapter Seventeen -- The Mission
Chapter Eighteen -- Rendezvous With Destiny
CHAPTER NINETEEN — Mammoth Lakes, California
CHAPTER TWENTY — Mammoth Mountain Ski Resort
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE — Hurry Home
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO — On Our Way
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE — Sidework
Chapter Twenty-Four -- Running On Empty
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE — Uncovered
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX — The Lads
Part 2
Chapter One -- Bogies
CHAPTER TWO — Elise
Chapter Three -- Big Mac
Chapter Four -- Oakland International
Chapter Five -- The Heart Of A Hero
CHAPTER SIX — Out Of The Mouth Of Babes
Chapter Seven -- Oh, My Sweet Darling
Chapter Eight -- Bingo
Chapter Nine -- Where Heaven Lies
Chapter Ten -- The New Forever
Chapter Eleven -- Everything Is Never Enough
Chapter Twelve -- Oberamagau, Germany
Chapter Thirteen -- Mad Science
CHAPTER FOURTEEN — Ivan
Chapter Fifteen -- Ivan’s War
Chapter Sixteen -- Find Her
Chapter Seventeen -- I Surrender
Chapter Eighteen -- To Protect…
Chapter Nineteen -- True Love Will Never Fade
Chapter Twenty -- The Roadrunning
Chapter Twenty-One -- North To Alaska
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO -- Promises To Keep
Chapter Twenty-Three -- North By Northwest
Chapter Twenty-Four -- Friday Harbor
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE — NO REST FOR THE WEARY
Chapter Twenty-Six -- Miles To Go
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN — George Washington University
Chapter Twenty-Eight -- No One Is Home
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE — The Truth Hurts
CHAPTER THIRTY — The Untold Truth
Chapter Thirty-One -- Saddle Up
Chapter Thirty-Two -- Nowhere To Run
Part 3
Chapter One -- There Will Be Blood
Chapter Two -- Crocodile Tears
Chapter Three -- Battle Lines
Chapter Four -- Lives Worth Living
Chapter Five -- Worthy
Chapter Six -- Dead Man’s Bay
CHAPTER SEVEN — Death With A View
CHAPTER EIGHT — Partners With The Beast
Chapter Nine -- A Wild Ride
Chapter Ten -- To Life…
Chapter Eleven -- To The Pursuit Of Happiness…
Chapter Twelve -- Shanti
Chapter Thirteen -- Overload
CHAPTER FOURTEEN — LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR
Chapter Fifteen -- The Epiphany
Chapter Sixteen -- Zurich
Chapter Seventeen -- Let’s Party
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — Let’s Play Chicken
CHAPTER NINETEEN — Beyond The Blue Horizon
CHAPTER TWENTY — ONE LAST KISS, BEFORE I GO
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE — ’Twas The Night Before Christmas…’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO — Laughing Last
Chapter Twenty-Three -- HE WHO LAUGHS LAST…
Chapter Twenty-Four -- A Whole New Year
Chapter Twenty-Five -- Pure Genius
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX — Hello
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN — Leonardo Di Vinci Airport, Rome
Chapter Twenty-Eight -- Thank You…
Chapter Twenty-Nine -- Professor Shanti Larsen
Epilogue
Afterword
Copyright © 2017 by CARA CHARLES
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For Bill, my One and Only
For Ryan, who started with a special kiss
For Deedee, our Beautiful girl
For Mother, my first storyteller
And especially for Desre.
Years ago, I began this book as a present for
Desre’s birthday, because I keep my promises…
And because of her and her tireless dedication to making this story the best it could be…
This book will always be because of you…
Much love always Des…
and most certainly
for Dad…
Forever My Hero
“We make a living by what we get.
We make a life by what we give.”
– Winston Churchill
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE - FRIDAY HARBOR, SAN JUAN ISLANDS, WASHINGTON
THE ROSE AND THE AMARANTH
ANTIQUES AND GIFT SHOP
DECEMBER 17th
0330. DR. DESIREE RICHARDS’ text buzzed on her custom-made cellphone, waking her out of a troubled sleep.
‘Dispatched two wolves outside ORCA’S condo. No prints, no tags, no IDs. What’s ORCA’S transpo and timeframe status?’ The text from her Mammoth Mountain Protection Team updated her.
Dez sat up quite shocked, then replied. ‘Well done. ORCA is still scheduled to arrive at your locale 1800 today. Playing 9-hole golf OV INN this morn. Tee time 0830. Wait one... Checking status…’
Dez texted her METAPHOR Santa Barbara team at the Ojai Valley Inn.
‘Status report on ORCA plz. MMt dispatched two wolves outside condo moments ago. Will her car be ready by noon?’
They replied. ‘ORCA asleep in her rm. Yes. Car in for service for mountain weather. ORCA and team ETA at condo 1800. Tee time OV Inn still 0830. Will dbl security and double perimeters. Thx for heads-up. We’re heavy & covered. SBM4 Out.’
Dez reported back to her Mammoth Mountain Team. She’d keep Dennis and Larry in reserve. They were only an hour away camping near the Sespe Wilderness, at the east end of Hwy 126.
Adrenalin coursed under her skin. She couldn’t go back to sleep not now, even though at her age a good night’s sleep was a coveted luxury.
Living on this remote island under an alias and long dead to her colleagues in the real world of MI6 and the CIA, Desiree ‘Dez’ Richards known as “Dear” to those in METAPHOR, her underground special security organization, suspected the time had finally come to defend their long protected assets.
Something was in the wind.
LONDON
LEICESTER SQUARE
“MAVRA KIMIROV, granddaughter
of Russian billionaire Ivan Kimirov makes her way through the hordes of hungry photographers as their cameras devour her. Wearing a stunning emerald green velvet gown so perfect for the Holidays, Mavra certainly commands her share of attention this afternoon as the sun sets at this historic red carpet event. This international jet-set media darling is escorted by her frequent date, Dimitri Vega and her ever present entourage of security.”
“You look so hot, Mavra. This way, Mavra. Stunning, Mavra. Thank you, Mavra. One more, Mavra.”
Dimitri says, “You do look quite beautiful tonight, Chiquita.”
“Thank you, lover.” Mavra kisses Dimitri on the cheek, and the photographers go wild.
ONCE INSIDE MAVRA pulls the handsome blue-eyed Spaniard to a side exit and out the door where Carlos, one of her senior security detail and an old pal of D’s, the rest of her security team, a stretch limo and black SUV, waited.
“What’s the matter? Damn it woman, why aren’t we staying?” Highly irritated, Dimitri needed to know.
“My Deduska landed in Berlin two hours ago. Why didn’t you tell me?” Mavra demanded as sweetly as she could.
“Because you agreed to abandon this stupid plan of yours and mind your own business. I thought you came here to relax and party?”
“Circumstances with Deduska have suddenly changed, darling. He might need me. Please say you’re coming.”
“Dos Mio. You win, but remember I am not part of this crazy scheme of yours. Understood?”
“Whatever are you talking about my darling?” Mavra pleased with herself smiled.
Turning his back on her Dimitri went around and got in the limo. D and Carlos exchanged a look as Carlos got in next to the driver.
She’d win him over as she always did. She walked into her long velvet coat, one of her most loyal body guards held open for her. He rubbed her shoulders to warm her, as she gathered up her gown as he helped her into the limo. She smiled at him.
Mavra checked her phone again. An earlier text from the mountains of California had been very satisfying.
The newest text from the tail on her famous grandfather reported he had just left the train station after taking a few photos of it, then strolled across the bridge and was currently having an early dinner at his favorite East Berlin café.
BERLIN
FRIEDRICHSTRASSE TRAIN STATION
DECEMBER 17th
TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER
THEIR LOVE SONG COLE PORTER’S “Begin the Beguine” was playing through Ivan’s head, matching the tempo of his blood dripping on the snowy pavement. He laughed at the irony.
The distant emergency vehicle sirens urged ‘hurry, Ivan.’
Standing at the phone kiosk listening to Dr. Richards’ phone ring half way around the world, his blood dripping off his fingertips, Ivan pressed his wounded upper arm into the frame of the kiosk to stem the blood flow. He chuckled. An unlucky bullet could have ended it all before he reached Dr. Richards. Only a fool would consider a bullet, lucky. Ivan was just such a fool. He had to control the bleeding or lose everything to Mavra. Containment of their secret was no longer in his control, entirely his fault as well.
While Dr. Richards’ phone rang endlessly, Ivan searched the gawking crowd sensing Mavra and her men were watching, waiting. The musical antique pocket watch Dr. Richards had given him decades ago, dangled from his good hand, waiting for her to pick up.
Aged Ivan Kimirov, reportedly the fifth richest man in the world, prayed his voice modulator would outwit the NSA’s voice recognition programs.
He had to connect with Dr. Richards, his long lost contact, and reconnect with Elise Andersen to minimize the damage he’d set in motion, before his luck and his life ran out.
FRIDAY HARBOR
0845 ‘ORCA AND GUEST just teed off hole #8. They got an earlier start due to a no show. All clear.
Desiree read the text from her golf course team while she ignored her shop phone. She’d let the upstairs machine pick it up while she replied, ‘K. Copy.’
She sipped the last of her Earl Gray tea and went back to hanging the new shipment of antique baby clothes on their matching satin hangers.
0946 Still in the basement of her Spring Street antique shop The Rose and the Amaranth, Desiree ignored her shop phone again, as the blood drained from her face.
‘IM NOW! M4PAIL.’ Lyle Linstrom, her METAPHOR Palo Alto contact’s text urged.
His IM said: ‘RE: Funeral Newsreels; FDR 1945, and Eleanor R 1962 copied! Found in simultaneous searches in four libraries; Library of Congress, New York City, Libraries of FDR, and AE Roosevelt. Subject #1 Our own JRJ matched and located and 1962 images of JRJ and friend matched! Red’s tech used pirated 3D facial recognition software confirming 4 100% matches of Main Subject and friend. All matches were reported to Red. Then a 2nd Hacker scanned with facial recognition software too, then cc’d Red’s 4 results plus all her library files to BIG RED, then they deleted their IP. Highly doubt they’re working together. M4PAIL’
When she’d finished reading Lyle’s message it disappeared as designed.
Desiree called her security team in Ojai. “Get ORCA to safety now. They’ve found and matched the newsreels.”
They responded. “Will do.”
Desiree IM’d Lyle back. ‘Necessitates Priority A-1 response. Get to Red’s tech + BIG RED’S hacker.’
Next, Desiree called Trevor in Maryland. “Good morning T. Sad to report, newsreels discovered and matched. Deliver the goods to our Maryland friend. He’s vulnerable now. Double his surveillance and continue to shadow him.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Trevor responded.
‘Alert Jan, now.’ Desiree ticked off her mental call list. ‘How quickly they’d scanned the crowd in the newsreels of the Eleanor Roosevelt funeral, and found that lone African-American couple surrounded by thousands of her mourners and matched their asset to Amanda as Joseph’s companion. ‘Thank God her identity and our first vulnerability is covered by Lyle’s genius,’ Desiree thought. ‘But dear old Joseph is vulnerable now.’
Desiree Elizabeth Aurora Richards, MD PhD., former MI-6 and CIA psychiatrist, world-renowned cognitive neuroscientist, co-founder and the Chief of METAPHOR, sent her first 911 Priority A-1 message to Janitor. She could feel all their work unraveling, but how? She so needed Sid and Jan. But Jan would alert the rest. Sid may still be otherwise engaged. Her gut warned her, ‘their secured world may be going mad today.’
SCOTTS VALLEY WAS in the west hills of California’s Santa Cruz Mountains. Once a famous Santa’s Village town, it was also the American hometown of Alfred Hitchcock. Still a sleepy village near Palo Alto, Scotts Valley was also the corporate home of Netflix. Here in a modest cabin in the remaining woods, M4PAIL a.k.a. Lyle Linstrom in his former life was hard at work.
Desiree’s METAPHOR software architect, Lyle Linstrom admired his new Santa Cruz ponytail without the gray, and his new face healing from the plastic surgery.
Lyle was no longer recognizable to his Silicon Valley alumni from Stanford or his Ft. Meade, Maryland NSA alums. Lyle re-ran Vertigo, the program he designed from a highly secure room METAPHOR built to his specifications in the basement of his old on the outside, new on the inside cabin.
To be thorough, in a few hours he’d be ready to run his own 2D to 3D face recognition software specialty program dynamic test he called Rear Window, to eventually scan every known photo of all African women in the subject’s age grouping first, plus or minus twenty-five years, then all African women, no matter their age worldwide. His program would regress older women’s photos to the subject’s age. His computer was too small to be super fast, which would require noticeable power. METAPHOR was entirely underground.
Lyle needed time and luck.
If any newly uploaded photos were found from new access by Third World countries or old repositories from anywhere uploading their archives, the virus the program would implant would alter that photo within the data set, destroying its ability to be matched by any fa
cial recognition program when access or download was attempted. Such photo in its original form would be preserved and sent to Lyle unaltered. His program would report the data-mining source to Lyle.
Lyle had been involved in every phase of software development and testing in his former life. He was from the “test as you develop” school. If all went well since he debugged the Rear Window program, the first run, dynamic, exploratory, regression test of a North American scan would be followed by the stress and load test to scan worldwide.
These scans would produce thorough results if there was a photo to be found and show him old bugs. The only photo that existed without the Vertigo scrambling was seventy years old, taken at war’s end in 1945, and would remain just that, the only photo. The negatives were destroyed years ago.
The precious reference photo was what Lyle used as the Master to create the computer scan of her features and bone structure. Lyle smiled as her life size face pirouetted on his twenty-seven inch monitor screens. She was captivating and beautiful. Even though she was just a computer graphic.
Lyle knew the decoy photos of Amanda Rose Washington of the WWII Army Nurse Corps in the Eleanor Roosevelt newsreels in the libraries were meant to satisfy the curious with deep pockets.
Amanda’s service record would be next, her burial place third. Dear wasn’t waiting. Lyle was the only one of “Ex-comms” that had been allowed in Desiree’s most inner circle. What Desiree had entrusted to Lyle had forever changed him.
Lyle watched his 3-D graphic of an exotic and breathtaking African goddess rotate on his monitors. What Lyle knew about her and protected, he’d take to the grave. But sadly, the most vulnerable link in their chain of custody was old Joseph Jefferson, who may now be in danger.
DESIREE IM’D her Zurich METAPHOR contact Jan Vincent Torsen, known as ‘Janitor’ because of his “clean up” skills. He hadn’t answered. He couldn’t disengage from his cover at the new Swiss lab in Regensberg.