by Bella Juarez
The president had convinced the supreme leader to abandon the failed biological weapons project and turn their attention to the use of the EMP devices he’d secured from a Cossack arms dealer in Austria. He’d been able to procure six cases of the devices that the old Soviet regime had misplaced during their transition to a more democratic form of government. All of the cases had been ready for shipment to Iran when the compound where they were hidden had been raided. The Iranians had managed to get three of the cases to safety thanks to a young doctor working there who’d been able to escape in the nick of time. He knew from his contacts that one of the cases had been discovered by an American soldier while they searched after the raid. He had to meet in secret with the Iranian president while he was in the United States because the Russians were still looking for him.
“What seems to be the problem, my friend?”
As he descended the stairs, his host must’ve picked up on his anxiety. Nayyaf knew that this man had friends of convenience and a diplomatic minister in the Pakistani government could be a very useful friend to have. He’d been able to get the information Montenegro had asked him for regarding his daughter but hadn’t given it to him, yet. He now needed to formulate how he’d be able to leverage the information Montenegro sought to his advantage. He had no illusions that his host wouldn’t be so gracious unless there was something he needed or wanted.
“Nothing of great consequence; I’m thinking about the busy agenda I have for the next couple of weeks.”
“Are you still meeting with the President of Iran?”
“Yes, in New York.”
They talked as they drove to the private airstrip where the embassy’s chartered jet waited to take him to New York. His Houston consulate had become unreliable. The ambassador had been impeding his mission, opting instead for a more political war strategy. Nayyaf had tried that route when the news of the impending US invasion of Afghanistan reached a very alarmed Pakistani government back in 2001. His government had been sympathetic to the Taliban having the same beliefs and social structure. Pakistan, however, had developed a much more structured and stable government. When the Americans first started talks with Pakistan, he’d been involved with the negotiations and had seen Musharraf capitulate to the Americans’ unreasonable demands. No, he’d learned long ago that the finesse of politics was not something Americans understood.
"Nayyaf, I’m worried about you. Why don’t you take a few of my men as protection to ensure that nothing happens to you again? I can have them at the airfield before your plane leaves.”
“I appreciate it, my friend, but I’ll have protection in New York. The president is most interested in my well-being.”
They arrived at the private airfield and walked out to the runway where the plane should have been waiting. One of Montenegro’s men called the tower to find out about his aircraft. No plane from the United States had been scheduled to land today. There were no flight plans that had any plane landing and then departing for New York. Nayyaf called the consulate in New York and discovered his plane had been canceled, and the jet had been sent to the Houston Consulate for a summit of Middle Eastern nations in Canada. There was no time to worry about delays; he had to find a way to get to New York.
“Nayyaf, let me lend you a hand. I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you use my plane? We can have you in New York within twenty-four hours.”
The Americans and Russians were looking for him high and low. The only catch to this offer would be that Montenegro’s plane hadn’t been declared a diplomatic aircraft, making this tricky, and he wouldn’t be going through the usual channels. He weighed his options. He could have a car meet him, and he always had his diplomatic papers. He also knew that accepting this help would put him even deeper in debt to Montenegro. Even though he ruled Sonora with an iron fist, his reach didn’t extend as far as Iran. Realizing he’d been stranded and knowing he had only a short window of time, he decided to accept Montenegro’s offer for the plane and guards.
“Thank you, my friend. I’ll also take you up on your offer of an armed escort as well.”
* * * *
Van and Rio arrived at a little-known private airstrip that had become an established haven for narco-traffickers in the area. Its location on private property had been tricky to justify access to, even though everyone knew was a front for the Montenegro Cartel. The Department of Homeland Security had been able to get a warrant issued to inspect the airport’s flight logs, and Gavin’s taskforce had been charged with executing the warrant. They were cautious because the place was crawling with the company’s security guards. The private airstrip was used for executives and other business types who didn’t want to land in Phoenix or Tucson, then have to drive for hours to reach their destinations. The front man for the company claimed he needed security twenty-four-seven to keep away all of the illegal traffic that would find its way to his airstrip. It was also close to the Nogales International Airport, a non-commercial port of entry into the United States from Mexico.
A week ago, the task force had been tipped off that Montenegro’s private jet had filed flight plans with the FAA for a flight to New York. The plane had made an unplanned stop at this airfield along the way. Rio scanned the surrounding area and counted three buildings that looked like hangars and the small tower. The hills of the Coronado National Forest surrounded this place secluding it from prying eyes. Rio counted all the guards and vehicles she could see, but knew there were more. Satellite images had shown another compound hidden in the hills beyond the runway. As she trailed behind Van, she found herself separated and her path blocked by a large man dressed in black and wearing a tactical vest. Staring down at her through his mirrored sunglasses, the AK-47 held across his chest had been meant to send her a message. Without losing eye contact, she dug into her pocket, pulled out her badge, and shoved it in front of his face.
“Move,” she ordered. He didn’t flinch. “Now.”
Never wavering, she stared back without blinking. She sized him up and decided he’d be a challenge to take down, but she’d taken down bigger. What this man didn’t realize was she worked out daily with a Navy SEAL who didn’t cut her any slack. He stepped aside, and she walked into the building and considered what sort of charges she could press for interfering in her investigation. Locating Van, they proceeded to go through the flight logs. Montenegro’s plane had reported electrical problems, and they stopped to have the problem fixed at the airfield. Maintenance records were turned over to the CBP. According to the logs, none of the passengers de-planed, and there had been no cargo dropped or picked up, at least on paper. When they left the office, she saw tall, dark, and scary waiting at their CBP vehicle. She stopped in front of him as Van shot her an alarmed look. He started to walk to her as he unlocked their vehicle. The guard opened her door, and Van relaxed and got into the driver’s side while she slid into the passenger’s seat.
“I think he’s got a crush on you, Lil’ bit,” Van said as they drove away.
“Uh-huh, I can tell.”
“Is that why you fell behind? I almost went looking for you.”
“Dumbass tried to intimidate me, but he found out real quick how I roll.” She cocked an eyebrow and gave him a sly grin.
“I won’t tell Danny,” Van said in a loud whisper.
She punched him in the arm as hard as she could.
“Ow! Hey, that’s assault!”
Punching Van was like punching a sandbag, and she seriously doubted he felt as much as he claimed.
“Quit your whining. You sound like Jax. If you say anything, you’ll have to tell everyone that a girl beat you up.”
“Yeah, well, you’re one mean little girl.”
They arrived back at their base of operations and debriefed with Gavin. Part of this trip had been intended to get eyes inside the private company, so they could get a better idea of what they were dealing with. The dashboard camera on their CBP vehicle accomplished some of it, and the human intel would fill in
the story the camera couldn’t tell. How many people were inside the buildings? What was the internal layout? Did they have electronic surveillance and, if so, where? But more important, how did the place feel? As seasoned law enforcement Rio and Van could provide intelligence about the little nuances of the place with a certain amount of accuracy. Overall, it had been tense. Her encounter with the security guard made her believe the security there could be hair-trigger, and the slightest misstep could’ve been fatal.
“When Bakri landed at JFK, he went straight to a car and then to the UN building,” Steve said.
“Are you sure?” Rio asked, trying to find some sort of loophole. “He didn’t do anything else, just went to a car and left?”
“Yeah, the car waited in a private area at JFK. When the plane landed, it taxied over to where chartered and private aircraft are parked, and then he got into a car and left for the UN.”
“Did they unload anything? Any crates or boxes?” Gavin asked.
“No. He got off the plane and got to a vehicle with Iranian diplomatic plates.”
“According the minister’s secretary, he wanted to get those EMPs into the country another way, like semi-truck or train. Could there have been another vehicle that may have unloaded something later?” Gavin said.
“Nothing, I waited there until the plan left again,” Steve said.
“The aircraft could’ve gone to a private airport,” Rio said.
“I don’t think so. It was there overnight and left like at six a.m. the next morning, and according to intel, they arrived back in Sonora six hours later. That’s about right for that distance,” Steve said
“If he didn’t have them, then those things got through another way, probably by semi or train,” Van said.
“From what I saw of those devices, they could’ve passed through the scanners as car parts stuffed inside new vehicles coming in from Mexico,” Rio said.
“Intel from the interrogation of the minister’s secretary revealed that the minister had planned on meeting the president of Iran as soon as his tour of the US ended. That was a huge item on Bakri’s agenda. I don’t think he’ll use those things himself, I think he plans on turning them over to Iran,” Gavin said.
“So that’s why you needed us to grab the secretary,” Steve said with a grin.
While Steve talked, a sudden realization struck Rio. Bakri’s flight had landed on a private runway within US borders. Even though he never de-planed as claimed, the plane didn’t land at a port of entry before continuing on to New York, thus coming into the country illegally.
“Van, check eAPIS. Did the pilot or Montez Aviation ever let CBP know that Montenegro’s aircraft had landed before it took off to JFK?”
Logging in to the system on his laptop, Van searched the CBP database for anything related to Bakri’s plane. After a few minutes Van shook his head. “I can’t find any changes, but I see where they filed a manifest with JFK.”
“What’s going on?” Gavin asked.
“All aircraft entering the country have to land at a port of entry before continuing to their destinations. Unless other arrangements are made with us, everyone entering the country by air, ship, or whatever, has to provide notification, preferably in advance, to CBP through eAPIS. If they plan to change the way they come in, they have to notify us as soon as possible. They had the opportunity when the plane landed for field maintenance at Montez Aviation. Someone there should’ve notified CBP of the change to their original plan, even if it had been an emergency. In that case, we’d have sent someone to check out the plane to make sure nothing had been smuggled in and checked passports or papers on all the passengers. Technically, that aircraft and its passengers entered the country illegally. The only way I can see him getting out of this, is for him to say he’d come here on a diplomatic mission. But the flight plans filed with the FAA never said that.”
“What the hell is eAPIS, again?” Gavin asked.
“Electronic Advance Passenger Information System. It allows private and commercial passenger craft to enter passenger and crew manifests online. It automatically runs the names through INTERPOL and FBI to make sure everyone coming in is safe. If they’re not, it generates a hit to whatever agency is looking for them. When there’s a change, the manifest is flagged, and as soon as it hits a port, we send someone out right away,” Van said.
“Holy shit!” Gavin exclaimed, throwing down the pen in his hand and leaning back in his chair. “It can’t be that easy.”
“Yeah, it is,” Van confirmed, shutting the lid to his laptop.
Gavin jumped to his feet, cupped Rio’s face, and kissed her. “God, I love you!”
“What the hell’s going on?”
Rio glanced at the door and cringed. What had just happened had been nothing more than pure excitement at the break in this case. Danny obviously didn’t see it that way. How could she explain what he’d just seen when he’d told her over and over again about his concerns working with this group? But to see her serious, at times hostile, partner almost dancing around the room was a comical site. Another man entered the room and stood next to the table watching Gavin’s celebration.
The man also wore the Navy’s blue camouflage uniform. He and Danny were about the same size, but the man was much older. When he walked into the room, the air changed. She almost stood at attention when he looked at her and smiled. A powerfully attractive man, she couldn’t help but be drawn in by his green eyes. She caught herself glancing at his left hand and the ring on his finger. This man could be irresistible if he chose to be so, and she briefly wondered about his wife. He wore eagles on his collar and the SEAL Trident on his uniform. She instantly connected who this man had to be, and confirmed it when she saw the name O’Malley on his uniform. The commander of Special Warfare Group 5 had arrived and just witnessed some very unprofessional behavior. She blushed and looked toward Danny, who had shifted his glare to her, expecting an explanation of what he’d seen.
“We got a break in the case,” she said, clearing her throat.
“A break? She just drove a fucking Mac truck through this bitch!” Steve exclaimed to the men who’d just entered the room.
“Oh?” Rock asked.
Steve recapped the whole incident and conversation. Rock and Danny looked at Rio. “We’ve been trying to get this guy since before there was a Special Warfare Group 5.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been on this guy’s trail. I finally have him where I want him,” Gavin said. “Rock, I need to go to New York and these two”—he pointed at Van and Rio—“need to go with me.”
“All right, Badass, let’s work out the details and make sure this thing is airtight.”
* * * *
Nayyaf stepped out of the limousine that had carried him and his entourage to the Iranian Embassy in New York. The president had extended his stay to tour a couple of American universities where he’d addressed the student body as well as members of the press. The waiting made him nervous. Montenegro’s plan of flooding the border with traffic had worked. A truck had made through the border checkpoint with a concealed crate of the EMP devices all the way to New York. If his journey had been interrupted, the weapons would avoid seizure and still make it through to his Iranian allies. The Americans had taken many things out of the compound where Iran and Russia were trying to recreate a chemical weapon that the Russians had developed long ago. He’d located the missing crates in Afghanistan. Before the complete destruction of the compound, the Americans had stored them, and the contacts loyal to the cause in the American compound had been able to recover them. They were shipped to Pakistan and then sent to Mexico to an import house owned by Montenegro. From there it was just a matter of time to get them to the United States. Montenegro’s best security had accompanied him and the crate of weapons to New York. It had been a successful mission.
Tests for the weapons’ power had failed. He’d studied the United States for a prime location for the test. He knew somewhere like Washington DC
or the surrounding area would be too risky for a simple test. New York City would also too risky. He didn’t need the shock of a large populace being affected yet. His objective was to stop the US military and all of its advances into his homeland and the countries of his less fortunate neighbors. The heathen invaders were changing societies that had been living the same way for thousands of years. The tribal regions of Afghanistan and Pakistan were being overrun by hordes of American servicemen and women with their infidel ways.
They had to be stopped.
A simple test of the weapons’ effectiveness close to the American army base at Fort Huachuca should’ve been easy. All the men had to do was enter the country without getting caught, surround the base at predetermined locations, and detonate the weapons. The base served as an electronic warfare proving ground and where all of the testing for new warfare computer systems was accomplished. If the weapons had been effective it would’ve impacted the American military at a location no one would ever suspect. As he entered the embassy, he felt as if he could finally breathe.
“Nayyaf”—the president greeted him warmly—“please sit and have some tea.”
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“I’m sorry I had to make you wait. Now, I understand you have something for me to take back to Iran with me?”
“Yes, we need to devise a plan to test and deploy these weapons.”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance there as well. At the General Assembly, the United States requested and then granted permission by the Security Council to test a new weapons system while one of their ships is in the Gulf of Arabia. We have those who are loyal to us that can aid in stopping yet another act of aggression by the Americans near our homeland.”