Later that afternoon Z met with Ahmadi. "Tell me what you learned in your job interview?" Z asked.
"It was not an interview. It was just me pretending to be a woman, recently arrived from the Middle East, trying to find a housekeeping job. I just dropped in at the HR department and filled out an application." Ahmadi had dressed in plain clothes, dawned a headscarf, and visited the human resources office to apply for a job at Hotel Esatto.
"Did you apply using a Persian name or an Arab one?"
"Yasmin Mir-Khatibi."
"Very Persian," Z said. "I noticed a lot of housekeepers had Persian first names as I walked around this morning. What did you find out about the housekeeping world?"
"They work in eight-hour shifts. I told them I would prefer to work nights. But they don't need people on nights. They need new employees on the day shift from seven am to three pm. Still, I found out the overnight shift starts at eleven o'clock."
"Good to know. That's when Roya will arrive. That's when we'll start snooping and pooping."
"What? Snooping and pooping?"
"It's military lingo for reconnaissance."
"Good. I've got a few cameras set up. And, I'll put up some special little ultrasonic strips—"
What?
"It's just some new technology I'll receive today. Did you know the newest smartphones can hear ultrasonic sounds out of our human hearing range?"
"That's bizarre," Ahmadi said.
"Well, whatever it's for, I'm using this. I'm going to adapt this ultrasonic technology so I can put it along the ceiling corners. All I have to do is use it to detect these ultrasonic sound waves as they travel through the microphone on Roya's phone. We'll get close enough and hack into her phone through Wi-Fi or Bluetooth. It's a lot like the scammers do at airports. I start by capturing her phone's unique identifier information. After that, we're using high-frequency sound waves to track her whereabouts. I place one of these ultrasonic strips every 150 feet or so. We'll always know where she is."
"Excellent. Let's do it."
An hour later, Z received his shipment of customized ultrasonic sound wave generators. He found a few places to hide the generators. At 10:45 that evening Z was the only person sitting in the lobby of Hotel Esatto. He was monitoring the many cameras on his laptop computer. He also had an attaché case, just to make him appear as if he was one of the aspiring businesspeople. Ahmadi stayed glued to monitors in her hotel room. They also projected images from the cameras Z had placed around Hotel Esatto.
At 10:50 p.m. Roya passed through the employee entrance.
"We're on," Z whispered under his breath.
• • •
Tonight was a trial run. Roya was testing the ability to change the mist canisters with surgical gloves on while wearing a respirator. But, when it was time for the amoeba to go live, she would need to don a full HAZMAT suit. The ingredients in tonight's containers were only harmless scents. But, she needed to practice swapping out canisters quickly and safely. At least safely for her.
She loaded the scent containers into her housekeeping cart, put on the thick surgical gloves, and donned the respirator. Then she started with one of the men's bathrooms on Hotel Esatto's main floor. Wearing gloves and a respirator was not new to Roya. She had worn the protective gear hundreds of times when she worked in the lab hidden in the hotel's basement. But, that was a highly controlled environment. The risks to her health would be more considerable out here in the hotel. Within the next 24 hours, she would be deploying the canisters containing the deadly pathogen. If the pathogen got into her system, she would find herself amongst the miserable throngs of people pounding on hospital doors, clamoring and begging for scarce treatment.
But tonight, there was no danger. How anticlimactic, she thought. Rehearsing terror was not invigorating like executing the real thing.
• • •
For three hours Z had waited. Finally, at almost two o'clock in the morning, Roya walked through the lobby. She was pushing a cart while wearing thick surgical gloves and a respirator. Then she knocked on the men's bathroom door. She opened the door a crack. "Housekeeping." There was no answer, so she entered.
Z left his computer and walked over near the door to the restroom. Utilizing his homemade scanner, he stood next to the wall separating him from Roya. He pressed a couple of buttons and let the scanner work. A few minutes later, Z returned to the same spot where he'd been sitting. Looking at some readings on his device made him smile. He had captured the unique identifying number for Roya's phone.
When Roya emerged from the bathroom, Z started using high-frequency signals to get a fix on her phone. Z was ready to track her, virtually, throughout Hotel Esatto.
For the next fifteen minutes, Z observed his computer screen as he followed Roya's icon. She traveled to many bathrooms on the first floor.
Z called Ahmadi. "I just noticed something troubling."
"What's that?" Ahmadi asked.
"This Roya woman is wearing biohazard clothing that resembles the protective gear I saw in the hospital in Mexico."
"Like a mask? The gloves I can understand. Housekeepers wear gloves."
"A mask, yes," Z said thinking for a moment. "It's even more than that. When she exits a restroom, she observes a protocol, perhaps like we might expect to see in a lab? I'm not a medical lab expert, but her behavior seems out of place in a hotel."
"So, who could we ask?" Ahmadi said. "Do we know anyone familiar with hospital and lab stuff?" she said sarcastically.
"Don't bug Stoker. Allie never complains about his extended absences when he works with us. And, she needs him right now."
"Let's wake Rivera," Ahmadi said. "You know he would never hesitate to wake us."
Z agreed. "Get him down here. Let's see what he observes."
Ten minutes later, Rivera was fully dressed. Ahmadi and Z briefed him on the situation with Roya and her protective gear. Rivera started walking around on the main floor looking for Roya. When Rivera saw the woman from Iran, he pulled out his cell phone and pretended to be having a phone call with someone in Spain, where the sun had already risen for the day. He strolled casually in her general direction. Roya stopped her cart at a men's bathroom near the banquet halls. He watched her put on gloves and respirator. Then, with a stepladder and aerosolized container in hand, she knocked on the door. "Housekeeping."
Rivera waited for less than a minute before Roya emerged from the bathroom; and she placed a different canister in a plastic bag. Then she put her gloves in the bag. Using tape, she double sealed the bag. The hair on the back of Rivera's neck stood up. He walked a few paces away from Roya, still pretending to participate in a phone conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roya re-glove, and grab a new canister. He rounded a corner as she was about to enter the women's bathroom. He picked up his phone and called Z. "This is serious. She is showing a lot of caution toward those canisters. Something's not right."
"Look, Rivera. You're watching a woman, who is most likely from Iran, doing dangerous stuff within a stone's throw of millions of people. Let's act on this."
"Can you hack into the fire alarm system in this building?" Rivera asked.
"Sure, anybody can," Z responded. But, can't you just go pull a fire alarm?"
"No, Z. If I pull the fire alarm, it's not a big deal. We need a bigger distraction. I want to use you for your expertise. We need you to figure out a way to make Hotel Esatto, the police department, and fire department think they have a five-alarm fire on their hands here."
"Okay, give me a few minutes."
"I'll be waiting," Rivera said. I'm going to try to distract this Roya woman."
Rivera meandered slowly toward Roya's cart. When she came out of the bathroom, he smiled. "Hello." Then he pretended to do a double take on Roya's face. "I just can't help but notice. I'm a doctor, in town for a medical convention. You have a big red area just below your eye. You might want to get that looked at, and soon."
Roya put a false smil
e on her face. But, her smile could not hide the alarm present in her eyes from the unsolicited medical news she was receiving. She stammered for a moment. "Thank you, sir," she said with a quiver in her voice. "I'll make an appointment tomorrow morning."
"That would be wise. We're so good at curing that particular skin disease, at least when we catch it early. At that point, it's still easy to beat. If you get in quick, your treatment will be straightforward for that condition."
"Have a nice evening sir," Roya said as she hastily made her way back into the lady's restroom to examine her face.
Rivera immediately turned toward her cart and grabbed three of the canisters. He placed the containers on the ground in a disarrayed fashion, making it look like they had spilled out of the cart. Then, he saw a text from Z telling him he was ready to sound the alarms. Rivera spun the cart around and threw some of the cleaning supplies on the ground. Then he called Z. When Z answered, Rivera's voice sounded urgent. "Okay Z. Now! I need that alarm."
The fire alarm blared. Grabbing a towel from Roya's cart, Rivera and wrapped it around one of the full canisters. Then he took off running toward the front door.
At first, it was mostly hotel staff members who entered the hallway. When Roya opened the door and looked out, she saw her cart in disarray. She also noticed three canisters on the floor—one of them had rolled almost twenty feet from the cart. She sprinted to grab the furthest canister, picked it up, and returned it to her cart. As she turned to pick up the other two containers, the first wave of hotel guests came walking down the hall in an orderly but determined fashion. Just as they reached her and her cart, she put the two remaining canisters back on the cart. Then she grabbed the cart and shoved it over toward the wall, making more space for the bleary-eyed crowd to proceed down the hall toward the exit. There Roya waited until the crowd began to thin. Then she started to push her cart in the opposite direction of the flow of people. Eventually, she made her way to the main corridor that forked away from the kitchen and into the housekeeping bowels of the hotel.
Z was following her virtually on his computer. With all the uproar, Z felt like he had enough cover to follow Roya on foot. He wanted to delve deeper into the hotel. There was more to this place, and he wanted to know what it was.
Z scanned the faces that walked by. None of the people looked familiar. Most looked perturbed by the inconvenience of an alarm. Some faces appeared anxious. Other faces wore resolute and duty-bound expressions to exit the hotel quickly.
Z remained far behind Roya. Thanks to his ability to follow her digitally, he was always behind her by at least one corner, staying out of her sight. After some twists and turns through corridors, her icon stopped. After a brief pause, the icon continued forward for a foot or two, and then faded away.
"So where have you gone Roya?" Z wondered aloud. Cautiously, he peeked around the corner. He saw no Roya. But, he also saw an opportunity. Right here, in this corridor, Z placed a small camera as well as one of the locator devices. If Roya came this way again, he would pick up her signal.
• • •
Nikolas often worked during the earliest hours of the morning in his office on the third level of Hotel Esatto—a floor where Roya would install no mist canisters containing the Balamuthia amoeba. If he wanted to do business with Tehran, Nikolas needed to be awake while his bonyad director was working. "My Sayid. Initial reports from local hospitals are very encouraging," Nikolas said to his director. "The intensive care units are filling up."
"I did not ask for full hospitals!" the director said sternly. "I need to hear news reports of overflowing hospitals, of people lining up at the hospitals with tear-stained faces. When will I hear those stories?
"Within two weeks," Nikolas said with confidence.
"That is the first time you've ever given me a concrete answer," the director said. "I'm so accustomed to hearing the vague word 'soon' that I'm somewhat thunderstruck by this experience."
"It will happen, my Sayid. We've blanketed America with our pathogens."
"It better happen! I better see the weeping and gnashing of teeth their Christian Bible anticipates, or I will be sending some special friends to visit your loved ones in Jubail." Director Alireza Pour-Mohammadi was referring to a city on the eastern coast of Saudi Arabia that overlooked the Persian Gulf. He was holding Nikolas's family there.
"Director, sir. Here's another first." There were resolve and bravado in Nikolas's voice. "This is the first time I've had a positive bargaining position with you, ever. Now I've got the upper hand, and I will not stand for your threats. Let me be clear. If any harm comes to my family, purposeful or accidental, I will—"
Hotel Esatto fire alarms rang out and interrupted Nikolas. From Tehran, the director stammered before he shouted back at Nikolas. "How dare you!"
But Nikolas couldn't hear his rage-filled words. All the director in Iran could hear was the fire alarm coming through his computer's speakers. He could also see some confusion. "What is going on there?" the director demanded. In the background, he saw Nikolas having an animated conversation with a bodyguard. It surprised the director when the bodyguard seemed to win the argument, and Nikolas exited the picture. Then the face of another bodyguard came onto the camera. He started to type on the keyboard.
A moment later a message came across the computer in the online chat feature.
The fire alarm has sounded in the hotel. We are escorting Mr. Antoniou from the building. Many of us are very loyal to him. If anything happens to his family, our little army will sneak into Tehran, find you, and behead you very slowly.
Then the bodyguard flipped the director the bird and slammed down the computer's screen.
By now Nikolas had made his way down a little-known stairway to the basement parking. He and his bodyguards exited the elevator and walked briskly into the garage. As they had rehearsed many times, a man was waiting by a bulletproof Lincoln Town Car. Ahead of it sat a black Suburban, with Texas plates, filled with more bodyguards ready to defend Nikolas. Still flanked by the two bodyguards, Nikolas dipped into the Town Car. The door slammed, and the car took off.
"Where would you like to go, sir?"
"Take me to the marina for an hour. I will work from my boat."
• • •
Rivera watched as the guests continued to exit Hotel Esatto. He sent a text to Stoker:
There is a false fire alarm at Hotel Esatto. But I need an enhanced Stoker sit rep evaluation pronto. The perspective of a psychiatrist would be valuable. Can you walk around and see if you observe anything out of the ordinary?
Stoker's phone chime woke him. He texted back to Rivera telling him he would be right over. Then he pulled on his tactical pants and quickly laced up his boots. Jostling Allie's shoulder, he whispered, "There is a false fire alarm at Hotel Esatto. Something tells me Rivera triggered it. Stay in bed and sleep." He kissed her on the cheek and headed out the door.
Stoker walked to the hotel and arrived to witness a sea of pajama- and robe-wearing hotel guests waiting on the sidewalk. Fire trucks and police vehicles filled the street. The firemen were relaxed. In the last minute, they had concluded the event was a false alarm. Stoker started to walk around, to observe. As he walked down the sidewalk, watching the people and studying the situation, he didn't see anything he would not expect to see in the middle of the night amongst a group of alarm-rattled hotel patrons. Glancing ahead, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the Iranian woman, Roya, coming down the sidewalk toward him.
Stoker stepped aside, to the edge of the sidewalk and turned his back, so she would not see him. After she passed, Stoker turned and followed her. As he observed, Roya's determined stride and body language conveyed to the psychiatrist that she was looking for someone or something, with hunter-like intensity.
• • •
Roya stopped. She removed a small radio from her pocket and spoke into it. "I'm looking at this man who spoke to me a few minutes ago. The one who said he was a doctor."
"Yes,"
replied Nazem. "We too were watching him on the hotel's security cameras, before the fire alarm went off. That man definitely has us curious. He's not acting like a hotel guest. His behaviors are those of an investigator. He holds himself like a soldier."
"Do you think he's some type of law enforcement?"
"Yes. But, let's find out exactly who he is. I'm coming outside to take care of this man—to take him to Nikolas's boat."
• • •
In the distance a siren from an arriving fire truck, perhaps still sixty seconds away, was audible. Stoker eased to within twenty feet of Roya. He looked out into the sea of people, in the same direction where Roya's gaze appeared to concentrate. Then he saw who Roya was watching. She fixated on Errol Rivera. He was talking on his phone.
As the fire truck approached, Rivera covered his other ear to help him hear the phone conversation despite the loud siren. The fire truck eventually made it impossible for Rivera to listen to his discussion, and Stoker saw him end the call with a look of frustration on his face.
As Rivera slid his phone into his pocket, Stoker saw five men emerge from the crowd and come up behind Rivera. Two of them were carrying a large device that looked like a black windsock. Stoker cried out to warn Rivera, but the siren canceled out his yell. Stoker fought through the crowd to get to Rivera. But, even after nearly throwing a few people to the ground, he could not reach Rivera in time. In less than a second, the men lifted the sizable wind-sock-looking bag up over Rivera's head and brought it down around him disabling his arms and legs—even making it impossible for him to bite or head butt. The men hoisted Rivera, threw him into the back of a black Suburban, and slammed the tailgate shut. As the Suburban started to pull slowly away from the curb, Stoker broke through the crowd thinking he could catch up with the automobile on foot.
Silent Strike Page 21