by Matthew Dunn
“Hello, Lana.” Will sat down opposite the woman and pulled her newspaper away from her face so that she could see him.
Lana’s eyes widened. She glanced quickly around the cafe before looking back at Will. She produced a slight smile. “Hello, Nicholas. You came back for me.”
“I told you I would.” The waiter immediately attended their table, and Will muttered to the man, “Un cafe allonge, s’il vous plait.” The man left them, and Will turned back to Lana. “I do hope nobody is planning to join you here.”
Lana put her newspaper down and gathered her hair in one hand to place it over a shoulder. “Nobody.”
Will nodded, studying her face. She still retained the beautiful and hunted visage, but she seemed now to be projecting some strength, or hope. “How did you feel after our meeting?”
Lana frowned a little. She gave a slight shrug. “More than anything else, I was surprised that I showed you my scars.” She leaned forward. “Why would I have done that with someone like you?”
Will smiled. “Someone like me? Who do you think that type of person is?”
She waved a hand. “You are someone who captures secrets and souls. That is what you do, is it not?”
“I suppose it is.”
Lana looked down at Will’s ringless fingers and then back up at his face. “Are you a kind man, Nicholas?”
He frowned and then laughed. “That’s a strange question.”
“Not really.” Lana placed one of her own manicured hands flat down on the table between them. “I’ve met so many unkind men in my life. It would be nice to know that you are not one of them.”
“I can be unkind when I need to be.”
“But not when you don’t have to be.” She smiled a little, and her eyes twinkled.
Will was about to respond when the waiter delivered two coffees to their table. He sat in silence for a moment and saw Lana move her fingers slightly closer to his. He looked out the window and watched fresh snow begin to fall on Paris, then turned back to Lana. “He is called Megiddo.”
Lana looked down and spoke quietly. “I know. It is the only name he ever gave me.”
“Then why did you not tell me that was his name during our first meeting?” Will felt the anger in his voice.
Lana shook her head. “It is not his real name, so it has no relevance.”
He gripped his coffee cup so hard it was a wonder the thing did not shatter. “Only I can decide what is relevant or otherwise.”
“Why is he so important to you?”
Will took a deep breath and relaxed the grip on his cup. He looked at Lana’s lips and then her eyes and nodded once. “He is important to me because he wishes to kill others. It is my job to stop men like him.”
“That must be a lonely and thankless task.”
Will immediately recalled his meeting with his sister in Highgate Cemetery. He pushed the memory aside and smiled. “Why is it that people like you always think people like me are lonely?”
“People?” Lana’s voice hardened. “You said that if I’d been caught on my journeys in Bosnia, I could have been raped and tortured and then executed. How do you know I was never caught? How do you know that some of those things never happened?” She reached for her coffee but then withdrew her hand. “Do you think I am just like everyone else? That I’m just another person?”
“No, I don’t.” Will gazed out at the snowfall again and smiled as an unexpected memory came, the memory of five-year-old Will Cochrane throwing snowballs with his father. He wondered why the memory had come to him at this moment, then sighed as he understood that it was about innocence-his innocence, before the bad things came into his life, just like Lana’s innocence and purity before the bad men had beaten her and maybe worse. He looked at her. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to disparage you.”
Lana frowned before gently smiling. “Why did you come back to me?”
Will breathed deeply while watching Lana. He looked at her beautiful olive skin, her teak-colored hair, her large brown eyes, and her lips. He said nothing for a while, just looked at her. He wondered what her response would be to his next question, then suspected he knew. He toyed with the idea of not asking her at all, of reporting back to Alistair and Patrick with a lie. But Alistair and Patrick were men who lived and prospered in a world of lies and could never be deceived, not even by him.
He opened his mouth and said, “Lana, I-” His throat instantly felt dry. “Lana, I have something I must ask you.”
“I think I know what it is.”
Will frowned.
She looked away from him and spoke quietly, almost as if to herself. “There have been many times in my life when I have been reckless, knowingly foolish, maybe even naive.” When she looked back at Will, her voice became stronger. “But I am not a stupid person.” She nodded. “You think I might be a means to lure out Megiddo. You want to know if I am willing to help you trap him.”
Will studied her eyes, tried to detect her emotions. He looked for signs of fear, hesitation, uncertainty, anger-anything. But he could not see any clear indications of the way she was thinking. He nodded slowly. “That is precisely what I want to know.”
Lana reached for her coffee cup again, and this time she placed her fingers around its base. She raised the cup and took a sip, then carefully set it back down. “I know why I stripped out of my clothes to show you my wounds. I did so because I wanted you to really understand what I’ve been through and what I’m still going through. I wanted you to look at me and decide that I was someone who could be exploited; someone who could be used to help you get Megiddo.” She frowned. “But I was surprised. You came to me and did not want me to stand before you seminaked in such a vulnerable situation. Other men in your situation may have been different. But at that moment I saw a gentle man who wanted nothing more than to protect me. I saw a man who was horrified by what he saw.” She smiled a little. “I think in that brief moment I saw a very kind man.”
Will felt confused and angry with himself, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Would a kind and gentle man ask you to do something that was anything but kind or gentle?”
Lana frowned and shook her head. “I wanted you to know the truth about me. I wanted you to understand how much I’ve hated the man you now seek.” She leaned forward. “I want you now to know that the man you want is the man I want. I need you to understand that I want to help you in whatever way you see fit. Please, this may be my only opportunity to change my life for the better.”
Will wondered what to say. He then decided he knew precisely what to say. “Lana, the only way you can help is by being dangled as bait for Megiddo. I would protect you as much as I could, but nevertheless you would still be in severe danger. Regardless, I’m supposed to be here to counsel you that your desire to help me is the correct one. But I’m not going to lie to you. I want you to tell me that you will not help us catch Megiddo.”
Lana didn’t understand. “Surely you want to catch him?”
Will looked away for a moment. He thought about what Alistair had told him about his father. He thought about what Patrick had told him about the Evin Prison room. He thought about Megiddo.
He looked back at Lana and tried to hide the aggression he felt. “I desperately want to get my hands on him.” He sighed. “But there must be another way for me to get him.”
Lana smiled and reached out to cup Will’s large hands in her own. Her embrace felt tender. “Then I know what you think. Now I know that my instincts about you were correct. Now I know that you truly are a gentle man.” She squeezed her hands around his. “But nor am I going to lie to you. You would not be here if you or others in your organization had alternative means to lure Megiddo from the shadows. So I have to take this opportunity. I have to help you, and if that means letting you use me to bring him out of hiding, then I am willing for that to happen.” She withdrew her hands and smiled.
Will kept still for a moment. He looked out the window again, at t
he table, at the lipstick traces on her coffee cup. Anywhere but at Lana. “You could be killed.”
“I feel as if I’m half dead already. What have I got to lose?”
He sighed and finally met her eyes, and this time he could clearly see strength and defiance in them. “I suspect that you have more reasons to live than you think.”
“Then let me find out. Let me do this and feel alive again.”
He nodded. He knew that there was nothing he could say to dissuade her from her decision. He also knew that she could have no real comprehension of the dangers she would face. An idea came to him.
He drummed his fingers on the table and said quietly, “So be it.” He thought some more for a moment before saying, “I want you to send a letter to him. I want you to seek his audience.”
Lana chuckled. “Do you have an address for him? Because I certainly do not.”
Will shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m working on that. The letter will be our mechanism to draw him out, for you to meet him and identify him and for me to capture him.”
“Why would he want to meet me?”
“You can say in the letter that you love him.”
Lana’s eyes flashed anger. “You are asking a lot of me. And in any case, he won’t meet me unless I have something considerably more valuable to him”-she frowned-“than love.”
“I agree.” Will took another sip of his coffee. When he put his cup down, he reached across and placed his hand over Lana’s fingers. He hoped the act would soften her anger.
Lana smiled. “You say he plans to kill people. They must be important people if he is involved and if you are tasked to stop him. He will not be distracted from his task.”
“Then, as you say, we must bring him something better than your love.”
For a brief moment, the anger returned to Lana’s face. She then laughed quietly.
Will smiled and drained the remainder of his coffee. His face was close to hers, and he stopped smiling. “You need to give Megiddo something irresistible, and I know what that can be.” He pulled her closer to him. “I can’t stop you from agreeing to help me, but maybe I can stop you from being the true bait. So this is what we’ll do. I want you to write to Megiddo saying that Western intelligence services have approached you. I want you to tell him that they know he plans to strike a massive blow against one of their countries. Tell him that an intelligence officer called Nicholas Cree has asked you questions about Megiddo. Tell him I want to capture him. Tell him that you need to meet Megiddo urgently to pass along what you know. Tell him that you can help deliver the intelligence officer to him so that Cree can be tortured to ascertain whether Megiddo’s operation is completely compromised.” Will smiled. “Tell him that you will do this only if in return you can be with him again.”
Lana had been studying Will’s lips as he spoke. When she looked back up, her eyes held tears. She gently withdrew one of her hands from Will’s hold and ran her fingers over the side of his face, shaking her head slightly. “Do you understand the risks you are taking with such a man? You are telling Megiddo to kill you.”
Will imagined the pain his father must have felt in the Evin Prison torture room. “I want Megiddo to come after me. I want him to view me as tethered bait. I want him to realize too late that it is he who is the prey and I who am the predator.
“And then, like all true predators, I will rip my prey apart.”
Sixteen
I forgive you for holding a knife to my throat. But it’s going to take me some time to forgive you for thinking that I might have done something careless to lead a killer to your colleague.” Harry took a gulp of his Red Label whiskey. He was dressed in immaculate casual business attire and had one leg loosely resting over the other. He replaced the whiskey glass on the table beside him and wagged a finger at Will. “Mistrusting a man is one thing. Believing him to be stupid is another thing altogether.”
It was the evening now, and Will had been in London for three hours. He was sitting with Harry in the bar at Park Lane’s Dorchester Hotel.
“How long are you in town?” Will took a small sip of his own whiskey.
“Just one night and one day.” Harry brushed a hand over his trousers. “I have a very large shipment deal, and the paperwork can only be arranged here.” He grinned. “Discreetly arranged here.”
Will nodded. “Would the shipment be armaments and their destination somewhere dubious?”
Harry rubbed his hands together rapidly and smiled mischievously. “You’re not a secret policeman, are you, Charles?”
“No, I don’t think I’d make a very good policeman, secret or otherwise.”
Harry uncrossed his legs and leaned in close. His voice was a near whisper. “True. And they wouldn’t have someone like you in their ranks, would they? Not someone who has your kind of problems.” He pulled back quickly while chuckling and then clapped his hands together. “Now, I think I have something for you,” he boomed.
“Am I going to be impressed?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I hope so. You asked me to find a man, and I have done so. The defense attache at the Iranian embassy in Zagreb. He’s an IRGC officer.”
Will nodded in appreciation. “How long has he been posted there?”
“Sixteen months. It’s his first posting in Europe.” Harry widened his eyes, and the look in them seemed expectant. “He’s only regular IRGC, mind you-a major in their army, nothing unusual. I believe that is what you wanted?”
“It is. What’s his function?”
Harry reached for his drink. “He’s doing what a regular DA in his position should be doing: schmoozing with the Croatian military, trying to persuade them to sell military equipment to the Iranians or maybe buy from them, and most likely drinking with them until the wee hours.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-one.”
Will resisted the urge to smile. The man’s profile was perfect for what he needed. His age was an additional bonus, as it could mean that the man was still eager to prove his worth to his superiors in Tehran. “That is very good, Harry. Very good indeed.”
Harry grinned widely again. “See, I knew I could be a valuable asset to you.” He pointed a finger at Will. “Hey, the woman Lana-have you spoken to her yet?”
Will lifted his drink. “If I use her, she will be oblivious to the fact that she is working for British intelligence.”
Harry nodded and chuckled again. “I like the way you work.” He finished his whiskey and checked his watch. “Well, unless there’s anything else we need to cover, an old man requires his bed. I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing else right now.” Will reached out and placed a hand over Harry’s watch. “But I need you to stay in touch with me. I need you and your contacts to keep eyes and ears open for any sign of Qods Force activity in Central Europe. Anything at all, even if it’s just rumor.”
“Of course.” Harry placed his own hand on top of Will’s fingers, the mischievous look on his face having returned. “Of course.” He grinned even wider and laughed harshly as he broke Will’s grip and stood. “I do forgive you for holding a knife to me. But you should know that I never make threats. If I ever have cause to put a knife against your throat, the next thing you will feel is unimaginable pain as my blade slices through your life.”
“I don’t think so, Harry.” He smiled and regarded Lace. He saw the man’s humor, his deviousness, his business-sharp intellect, and his wisdom. He also saw hope and sorrow in the man’s eyes. He saw a man he could not help but like. He nodded. “I, too, never give threats, but I do give warnings to those I feel are capable of redemption. Remember that, Harry. Because I have just warned you.”
Seventeen
“We all arrived late last night.” Patrick poured coffee into a mug.
Will rubbed a hand against his chin and felt morning stubble on his face. He took a gulp of his own coffee and looked out a window toward Zurich’s Limmat River. They were in a CIA residenti
al house on Rossligasse near the Swiss city’s old town quarter. He turned, walked to the dining table, and picked up a piece of paper. “So these are the others?”
“Indeed.”
Will read the paper.
Roger Koenig. Age thirty-eight. Married, three children. Seven years CIA Special Operations Group. Two years as team leader. Deployments include China, North Korea, Borneo, Russia, and Uzbekistan. Five SOG commendations at “outstanding” grade. Previously eight years SEALs, five of which DEVGRU. Global operations. Specialist in business cover, surveillance, all arms, disruptions, hostage rescue, HAHO and HALO parachute insertions, transportation (specifically maritime). Fluent in Mandarin, Russian, and German.
Laith Dia. Age thirty-four. Divorced, two children. Five years SOG. Deployments include Syria, Zimbabwe, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iraq. Previously five years Delta. Global operations. Twice recommended for Congressional Medal of Honor. Previously NCO in Rangers. Specialist in all arms, protection, hostage rescue, mountaineering, surveillance, disruptions, communications. Qualified sniper. Fluent in Arabic and operational Farsi.
Ben Reed. Age thirty-three. Single. Four years SOG. Deployments include Colombia, Mexico, Afghanistan, India, and Somalia. Previously nine years Green Berets. Global operations. Specialist in medicine, explosives, communications, HAHO and HALO insertions, hostage rescue, protection, surveillance, offensive and defensive driving, all armed and unarmed combat. Operational Arabic, Urdu, Pashto, and Spanish.
Julian Garces. Age thirty-one. Single. Three years SOG. Deployments include Sudan, Russia, North Korea, Pakistan, Iran, and China. Previously seven years Air Force Combat Control Team. Global operations. Specialist in communications, HAHO and HALO, combat scuba diving, demolitions, all armed and unarmed combat, offensive and defensive driving. Fluent Spanish and operational Russian and Farsi.
Will placed the paper back down on the table. “Their experience looks perfect. I presume Roger will act as their team leader on this operation?”