Therrien chewed his cheek for a moment. “Maybe the informant is one of the people in the meeting, or one of the people in the meeting was bribed.”
Tong shook her head. “No, the Captain’s transmission indicated he thought the villagers, plural, were involved. One informant or one traitor doesn’t tell a room filled with community elders what they’ve done. He keeps it to himself. If the Captain’s right and the villagers in the meeting knew, that suggests they discussed it among themselves.”
Leroux’s head bobbed slowly as he turned his chair to face Tong. “You could be on to something there. Somebody came to them with a proposal, they debated it, like any city council would, came to a decision to betray our people, and something happened that tipped our people off, and they ended the meeting early, triggering the improvised response.”
“That fits. The question is, who came to them? Some of these ambush sites, the locals have been on friendly terms with us for a decade. I doubt the idea was cooked up by the locals.” Tong threw up her hands. “The only way we’re getting any answers is with boots on the ground.”
Leroux agreed and checked his watch, wondering why Kane was taking so long to get back to him, then smiled slightly at the stupidity of his question. Kane hadn’t seen Fang in weeks, and he had no doubt they were spending most of their time catching up rather than monitoring communications.
They might never hear from him unless the urgency code was escalated.
5 |
Kane/Lee Residence, Fairfax Towers Falls Church, Virginia
Kane groaned in pleasure as he sat on the couch, knees spread wide, Fang on the floor in front of him, his eyes rolling back in his head. “That feels so good.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She pressed the icepack against his balls. “I guess next time you’ll wear a cup.”
He gave her a look. “I guess next time you won’t shoot me in the nuts.”
She lifted her top off, revealing two welts on the twins.
He winced. “Ouch.”
“Exactly, so we’re even.”
He shook his head. “No, we’re definitely not even. But you’re further away from zero than I thought you were.” His watch pulsed again, the pattern indicating a higher level of urgency than the first time. He had assumed his buddy had used the covert method of communication so as not to disturb him if he happened to be getting familiar with his girlfriend. Ball ice was more important than reconfirming dinner plans the two couples had this evening, though this level of urgency couldn’t be ignored. He tapped his watch, the electrical pulses undetectable to anyone but himself. “That would be Chris. Can you hand me my phone?”
With one hand still pressing the icepack in place, she reached behind her and grabbed his phone off the table then handed it to him. He logged in, then called his best friend, someone he first met in high school. Leroux was two years his junior, a brilliant loser that Kane’s parents had hired to tutor him to keep his grades up high enough to stay on the football team. Kane was the stereotypical jock—popular, good-looking, successful with the ladies, without a care in the world. All he was concerned about was getting a football scholarship so he could go to college.
Leroux was brilliant, unpopular, teased relentlessly, and had never kissed a girl, his brilliant mind destined to help the world.
They were polar opposites.
The only thing they had in common was geography—they attended the same high school. Yet against all odds, they had become good friends, and he had protected Leroux from the bullies, giving the poor guy a brief reprieve.
They had gone their separate ways, neither realizing the other had ended up at the CIA until a chance encounter at Langley reunited them, and they had become close friends over the years, best of friends, both of them now living in the same apartment building with the women they loved.
He brought up the message confirming it was his friend, and that the urgency level had increased. It still wasn’t indicated as critical, but there was no doubt now this was something that could no longer be put off. He tapped the link that would automatically encrypt and dial Leroux’s station at Langley, and his friend answered on the first ring.
“You know I’m on vacation, right?”
Leroux chuckled. “Does a CIA operative ever actually get a vacation?”
He grunted. “I never really noticed until Fang and I started dating.” She flashed him a grin then removed the icepack, giving things a kiss to make it all better. He wagged a finger, warning her not to start anything. Not only was he still in too much pain, he had a sense he was leaving shortly. “So, what’s going on that has you zapping my wrist twice in the past hour while I’m off duty?”
“We’ve had a series of ambushes on our troops in Afghanistan over the past couple of months. All in normally peaceful areas, all small groups, all after meeting with local leaders.”
Kane frowned. “I heard on the news this morning about another ambush yesterday. Six dead, I believe?”
“Seven, including the Afghan translator. And that’s why I’m calling. You’re heading back into the region in two days regardless, and your handler said she can spare you for this op, so…”
Kane flinched as the icepack was pressed back against the boys.
Fang rose. “I’ll get your stuff ready. Region?”
“Afghanistan.”
“Okay.” She headed for the bedroom and he stared after her, her top still off, revealing her ripped physique. Dylan Jr. threatened to take a peek for himself and Kane gave him the evil eye.
“I take it there’s more to this attack yesterday than what the press is revealing?” he said, returning his attention to where it should be.
“Yes. This one didn’t fit the pattern. It happened inside the village where they were holding their meeting, and the captain leading the mission radioed in that he thought the locals were involved. What caught our eye was that after the ambush, we have drone footage of someone taking photos of the bodies.”
“Recruitment photos?”
“Possibly, though nothing’s shown up yet. But what you don’t know is that six weeks ago, the exact same thing happened. A drone caught someone taking photos after an ambush, and they’ve never shown up anywhere.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed, his pain momentarily forgotten. “Wait a minute. If they weren’t recruitment photos, what were they for?”
“We have no idea. That’s why we want boots on the ground with good local connections. We’re sending you in to find out what happened. This is the first time we’ve got intel that suggests the locals were in on the ambush, and that doesn’t fit.”
Kane’s head bobbed. “There’d be no need to tell them, and why risk all the goodies we give them?”
“That’s exactly what we’re thinking.”
“Okay, when am I leaving?”
“Arrangements are being made. How much time do you need?”
Kane glanced at the icepack. “I’ll have to ask my balls.”
“Huh?”
“Long story, buddy. I’ll let Fang tell you tonight, and then you can tell me how much pleasure she appeared to take in it.”
“Umm, okay.”
Kane roared with laughter. “Don’t worry, it’s got nothing to do with sex.”
“Oh, I see. Actually, I don’t see. Dylan, I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about. And there’s no way in hell I’m asking your girlfriend about your balls.”
Kane shrugged. “Your loss.”
“I think I can live with that. So, when should I have them pick you up?”
“Give me thirty minutes.”
“Good. Your Uber”—Kane could hear the air quotes—“will be there in thirty. The driver will have a detailed briefing package, at least as detailed as we can make it. We don’t really know a lot at this point.”
“What’s your gut telling you?”
There was a pause, then Leroux finally sighed. “I’m not sure, but it’s nothing good. Either there’s a new player in the area that�
�s collecting material for a recruiting blitz at some future point, or something’s changed with the existing players, and we need to find out what, otherwise a lot more of our people could die.”
Goosebumps rippled over his flesh as his friend’s tone had his subconscious agreeing something was going on. You didn’t stick around after an attack to take photos of the bodies then not use them. “Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Talk to you soon.”
He ended the call, then waddled into the bedroom, pressing the icepack against his throbbing nether regions. He found Fang in the bedroom, a carry-on and a full-sized suitcase opened on the bed, half-filled with what any insurance investigator would require in a region known for its heat at this time of year.
She nodded toward the icepack. “How’s the happy sack?”
He groaned as he flopped onto the clear side of the bed. “Not very happy at the moment.”
She paused her packing. “Is it going to affect your mission?”
“I hope not. It’s not like I can tell the Chief, ‘Sorry boss, but my girlfriend shot me in the nuts and I can’t go and save our country today.’”
She giggled and he gave her the stink eye. She covered her mouth with three fingers. “Sorry, I know you’re in pain and I shouldn’t laugh.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
Her eyebrows bobbed suggestively. “Anything I can do to take your mind off things?”
Fingers on both hands stabbed toward his wounded soldier. “Is he just a tool to you? Am I just the charging station?”
She regarded him, clearly puzzled.
He waved a hand, chuckling. “Just pack my bags for me, please. The longer I can ice these chestnuts, the better.” He eyed the welts on her chest. “Are those as painful as they look?”
“Yes.”
He pushed up on his elbows. “Then let me pack.”
She dismissed his offer with a flick of a wrist. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it. We women aren’t wimps like you men.”
Kane collapsed back on the sheets, surrendering to the female of the species, all the fight he normally had in him cowering in fear between his legs.
6 |
Istiklal Avenue Istanbul, Turkey
Kane sipped his cup of Turkish coffee and suppressed the wince, as he had trained himself to do. He hated hot beverages, especially coffee. Tea was tolerable, depending on the type. In his personal life, anything hot rarely crossed his lips voluntarily, but on the job, with the majority of the planet enjoying their hot drinks, he couldn’t be the odd man out, so he learned to feign enjoyment. He had assumed that over the years it would at least grow on him, but it never had.
Today, he could have made an exception and ordered a diet soda or a bottle of water, but he was in character now. The moment he boarded the flight to Istanbul, he was Dylan Kane, insurance investigator for Shaw’s of London, and across from him sat his CIA handler, Beverly Thorn, appearing fully recovered, at least on the outside, from her recent ordeal.
“I was sure you were going to retire.”
The woman, easily thirty years his senior, eyed him. “And here I thought you knew me.”
Kane rolled his eyes. “Riiight, because you’re always talking about your personal life.”
She smiled. “I’ll admit, after what happened, I considered it, but ultimately decided I didn’t trust anyone else to manage your affairs. Besides, I’m fully recovered.”
Kane smiled. “Well, I’m happy I don’t have to break in a new handler, but I’d hate for you to delay your retirement just because of me.”
She put down her cup of Turkish coffee—her favorite, not his—and wagged a finger at the waiter then indicated her cup, a refill arriving a moment later. She smiled at the young man as he retreated, then took a sip, lowering her voice slightly. “The files you requested have been sent to your secure account, along with your cover details. I arranged for you to have a meeting with the Afghan Urban Development and Housing Minister to discuss insuring some of their bigger projects against terrorist attacks.”
Kane grunted. “Only a CIA front would ever issue those policies.”
She smiled. “No one says you’re going to sign anything. You’re just there to discuss the possibility.”
“Is he one of ours?”
She shook her head. “No, but he’s friendly to the cause. Don’t break cover, but I’m sure he’s wise to the fact you’re not there to actually see him, understood?”
“Got it.”
“So, tell me, why did you request those files on the villages involved in the previous attacks?”
“Because, frankly, I don’t expect to find much where the current attack happened.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh, I would have thought the freshest intel would be at the latest site.”
“Oh, I agree, and I’ll be going there first, but we’re looking for motive, right?”
“And what makes you think you’ll find that at the older sites, as opposed to the newest?”
“If the elders of the village were involved, after so many years of being friendly, what changed? What did they have to gain? I agree with Leroux’s team’s assessment that it doesn’t make sense for the elders to have been informed of the attack unless they were involved. There was no reason to threaten them to cooperate, because all they had to do was let the villagers hold their meeting as scheduled, then ambush our people outside of town just like the others. So, if we eliminate fear as the reason to cooperate, then there has to have been some sort of financial motivation.”
“Perhaps they simply changed their loyalty.”
“Perhaps, though that many in two months? And keep in mind, the other villages still welcome us with open arms.”
“True, so what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that if there were some motivation to cooperate with the hostiles, they had to have gotten something out of it. I’m hoping the updates I requested might reveal just what that motivation was.”
Her mouth slowly opened as her head bobbed. “Ahh, that’s why you requested those new UAV overflights of all the villages. You’re looking to see what changed.”
“Exactly. If everything appears the same, outside of anything our forces did for them, then it suggests the villages involved in the previous attacks weren’t involved at all. But if something’s changed, if somebody has a fancy new house or a shiny new car, something out of place and expensive, then it suggests somebody was paid, and the site of the latest attack won’t show any evidence of that because it’s too soon.”
Thorn grunted as her head slowly shook. “I love the way your mind works. You don’t believe at all in the basic goodness of people. Everyone is out for themselves.”
He shrugged. “Experience. It’s not necessarily true everywhere, but it’s certainly true where your every day is a constant struggle just to survive.”
“Your plan is what?”
“I’ll have your meeting to maintain my cover, but I’m meeting up with an old translator buddy of mine and we’ll pay the various sites a visit. If my hunch is correct, there’s going to be some uncomfortable questions that need to be answered.”
Thorn finished her second cup then hailed the waiter, indicating with a scrawled air-signature for him to bring the check. Kane finished the last of his first, forcing it down, then popped a piece of gum in his mouth to rid himself of the unpleasant taste. He didn’t bother offering a piece to Thorn, for it would be refused. The bill was brought out and she dropped a handful of lira on the table, the waiter beaming at the generous tip, thanking her repeatedly as he bowed his way out of their personal space.
Kane rose and extended a hand. Thorn took it, and for the first time ever, actually needed the support. She grimaced as she stood, and his chest ached with the knowledge she wasn’t recovered after all. She drew a sharp breath then exhaled before she let go of his hand. They left the outdoor café and strolled along Istiklal Avenue.
“You lied to me,” he said.
She glanced at him. “Did I?”
“You said you were fully recovered. You’re not.”
“I’m recovered enough.”
“Does Langley know?”
She shook her head. “The doctor who did my assessment is an old friend.”
Kane rolled his eyes. “That beating you took would kill most people your age.”
“My age?”
He gave her a look. “You know what I mean?”
She chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I’m no spring chicken.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that in most businesses, but what would you do if we were ambushed.”
“Even healthy, there’s not much I can do anymore.”
“Bullshit. I read the reports of what happened in Helsinki, and there’s no way you’d be able to do now what you did then in your current condition. More would have died.”
She sighed. “You’re right. But I owe you, and you need me.”
He smiled down at her as they continued past Taksim Square. “I’ll tell you what. Your secret is safe with me as long as you promise to cut out these meetings. You and I both know this could have been done over a secure line.”
She frowned then finally nodded. “You’re right, of course. No more meetings until I pass my physical.”
“Good.”
She pointed toward an SUV. “This is me.” She fished the keys from her purse, then unlocked the vehicle with the fob. She turned to face him. “You be careful. There’s something off about this whole thing. Don’t trust anyone.”
He smirked at her. “I never do.”
7 |
Kabul Serena Hotel Kabul, Afghanistan
Kane lay naked, spreadeagle on his bed at the Kabul Serena Hotel in the Afghan capital. A freshly delivered icepack was serving two purposes now as it lay melting, tucked under his still tender balls. Not only was it continuing its work on the now slight swelling, it was also cooling him, the air conditioning not working as the power had failed. Yet again. Twenty years of fighting and rebuilding, and what little there was to show for it once America and its allies left would be destroyed or in the hands of the enemy within a couple of years if not months.
The Messenger - Special Agent Dylan Kane Series 11 (2021) Page 3