by Randy Dutton
Her smile was uneven. “Truth be told, I knew sooner.”
“Really?” He leaned forward.
“I was at the July 1st rollout of your products. You impressed me.”
“How?”
“In dealing with the press, the officials, and even the glitterati wanting to be seen with the man who may have solved global warming.”
His eyes traveled down her naturally-sculpted 5’10” frame, then back to her amused expression. “I would have noticed you.”
“There were over 600 people. I hung around the banquet table. As you’ve found, I love shrimp and champagne. Besides, that little redheaded TV reporter had her eyes on you”—her brow lifted—“and yours were on her.”
He was taken aback. “How could you tell?”
“A woman always knows.... So, how was she?” Tanya asked playfully without the slightest hint of jealousy.
“Excuse me?” His eye twitched.
“I’m with you...she isn’t. What was it about her that you didn’t like?”
Sven chuckled. “You’ve got great insight.... She was aggressively affectionate and extremely clingy...to the point of being controlling.”
“I thought as much.” Tanya grinned, leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek. “Shall we start our journey?”
He took her slender hand and escorted her up the gangway. Stepping aboard, they were greeted by a man in his late fifties wearing a Savile Row blue blazer. His demeanor was warm.
“Welcome aboard The Green Way, Mr. Johansson and Miss Smith, I’m Captain Trevayne,” His Scottish accent was light.
“It’s Sven and Tanya. Glad to be onboard.”
“Mr. Hopkins sends his regards and hopes you enjoy the journey.”
“You’ve got a beautiful ship,” Sven said.
“Aye.” The Captain opened his arms wide. “She’s only 50 meters long, small by megayacht standards. But she’s stable and comfortable...perhaps not as luxurious as your former boss’ 120-meter Spider, aye? We don’t have the onboard pool or helicopters, or the two submarines for that matter. But the food’s as good and we’ve got a grand wine cellar.... And the staterooms are first-rate.”
“That’s what matters.” Sven squeezed Tanya’s hand. “The food I meant.”
“Sure you did,” Tanya purred.
“I’ll have some hands retrieve your luggage and equipment from the rental car and take it to the airport. You used the fake identification in renting it, aye?”
“Per instructions. As far as Swanson can determine, I’ve left no traces of departing San Francisco.”
“Good. The cruise should take 10 days. Make yourselves comfortable. The ship has been outfitted with extra fuel tanks so we’ll only need to refill midway at the Galapagos Isles. I’ve arranged a ship’s tour after you’re settled. By the way, Mr. Hopkins has asked that I collect your cell phones and any other wireless communications. You removed the battery and SIM chip as instructed back in San Francisco, aye?”
“Yes.” Sven handed him the plastic bag with the components.
“I have new equipment for you in your stateroom. Our security officer will instruct you on our protocols. After all...we can’t allow Swanson to trace you back to our home base.... That would be...awkward.”
Chapter 11
August 9, 1500 hours
The Spider
The yacht stewardess poured Swanson a fresh drink. With Swanson’s increased drinking the past few days, she routinely left a vodka bottle in an ice bucket within his reach.
“May I get you something, Mr. Cooke?” the coquettish brunette with a cultured French accent asked while wiping Fuzz particles off the table.
“Ice water, please.” He opened the briefcase and pulled out a notepad.
She poured from a pitcher then departed.
“So what have you learned?” The silver-haired billionaire asked with annoyance.
“We found the explosives.”
“Where?” Swanson asked nervously.
Gabriel’s eyes wrinkled in amusement. “Twenty meters deep and in the muck.... She dropped 50 kilos of high explosives and the bomb paraphernalia over the port side. She wanted you to sweat.... You’re safe, so I’ve turned off the jammers.”
“How could she have turned on me like that?” Bitterness was evident.
“Something must have snapped. I’ve seen it before with burned-out agents, but never anyone this young.” Gabriel peered off into the distance. “Last June, I had dinner at her villa. She seemed a bit withdrawn. And there was a very depressing painting on the wall—”
“Ugly, as I recall,” Swanson cut in brusquely. “Had a garish image of an ill-formed woman with a stain over the twisted body. She said the artist used real coffee grounds to absorb the light. Claimed she got it in the Maldives right after the UN implemented the Carbon Law.”
“Anna bought it illegally from their National Museum.” Gabriel’s head gently swayed back and forth. “Taking a risk for a painting violated her training.” Gabriel laid a photocopy of the painting on the table.
Swanson brow furrowed. “Where’d you get that?”
“From the museum archivist. The painting was Fed-Ex’ed back from Madrid a few weeks ago.”
His eyes lifted. “How did you figure it out?”
Gabriel grinned as he put an artist’s composite sketch on the table next to the painting. Above the picture was a request for information in Arabic and English. “Recognize this woman with bronzed skin, deep blue eyes, and straight black hair?”
The old man scanned the facial features. “Her in disguise?”
Gabriel nodded. “These were posted all over Malé, which led us to the Maldives law office handling the private investigation.”
“There wasn’t a mention of it in the official report. What’s the connection?”
“The investigators uncovered her art purchase but didn’t tell Interpol.”
“Why?”
“That’s something we’ll check. Regardless, she was sloppy to leave a trail to your yacht tender.”
“Why the hell would she do that?!” Swanson’s nose flared in anger.
The painting still held Gabriel’s attention. “I guess the painting was personal...perhaps a sense of loss from when she was raped. Perhaps, something nightmarish during a mission when she dispatched one of your opponents.... Alexis, you ever keep track of how many victims she’s racked up on your behalf?”
“I don’t worry about minor details.... She’s always seemed okay working towards my greater goals, as long as she lived a life of luxury. In ten years, taking a life never bothered her. She was cold and calculating—just the way I wanted.”
“And as I trained her.” Gabriel sighed. “It may have taken an unnoticed toll.”
“Hell, sometimes making a hit exhilarated her, particularly if she could experiment with a new weapon or tactic,” Swanson added dismissively.
“Well, the evidence points to a new Anna that coincides with the Maldives.” Gabriel flicked an image onto the screen. In it, a swarthy man with a stocky build was at the helm of the Spider’s 20-meter yacht tender. In the background, the wake’s whitecaps very near the up-tilted hull showed the sleek boat was traveling near its max hull speed.
“Looks like Marv, the deck hand that disappeared.”
“It is. Marv delivered the bomb to her...probably made it, too.”
“You think he’s floating in the Med?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he took his possessions and left abruptly without telling his mates farewell. I’m guessing Anna gave him a new identity and handsomely paid him off...with your money. That’s a break in her pattern.”
“Well then, what are you doing to find him?”
“A man of the sea, stays with the sea. We’re looking in all likely foreign ports, primarily those with French influence.”
“I don’t want loose ends!”
“Understood.... She also didn’t dispatch her computer center
hackers.” An image of a sign inside a scorched reception office came up. ‘Sombres Societe d’informatique de l’energie’. “With little effort, she could have trapped them inside and then ignited those phosphorus charges. We’re searching for them as well.”
“Good! We need to send a message to anyone who thinks they can betray me.”
“And of course, she had access and the means to blow up the Spider and protect her safety....” Gabriel’s forefinger was tapping against his lips. “And the painting being returned...my Anna would have destroyed any incriminating evidence.... No...she’s morphed into an unknown and developed a sense of...morality.”
Swanson put the now empty glass down and mocked, “She’s 34. It’s a little late for her to become moral. My God, man, she castrated her rapist two years after the act. That took cold calculation.... One of the things I admired in her. And, after her father died in that helicopter crash, she worked as a prostitute to pay for UCLA and part of Harvard Law School. If that’s not enough to ensure Heaven’s gates will be locked tight, her actions over the last decade to eliminate a few dozen people for me certainly will. No, there’ll be a black hole irresistibly pulling her into the gates of Hell.”
Gabriel responded calmly. “Maybe that’s what she saw in the painting. She’s a product of her environment. For that I’ll accept part of the blame.... Well, the Maldives investigation’s over. They’ve tied her to you, but you’re fortunate.”
“How so?!” Swanson growled.
“Nobody wants to challenge you. Now it’s water under the bridge.” Gabriel took a sip of water. “Alexis, did you know Sven was a Malthusian?”
“Yes, but so am I. What of it?”
Gabriel cocked his head. “What are your goals in that regard?”
“Why, to use my power to help control humanity so it’s more responsible with resources...manage its decline in numbers.”
Gabriel frowned. “I’ve got five kids. How does that square with your beliefs?”
“Oh hell, Gabe! Important people will always get an exemption!”
“I see....” Gabriel’s voice was ponderous. “Our investigator’s going back through Sven’s background...before Anna recruited him. Your goals were slightly different. He’s a radical neo-Malthusian...has been since college.”
“Neo-Malthusian? Are you sure?” Swanson’s speech was slurred and eyes bloodshot.
“Yes. He believes humanity’s a virus and is willing to sacrifice everything to crash the human population. What he did with your carbon capture life forms appears to have always been his plan.”
“So what you’re saying is Jared and Anna failed to watch him closely.”
“There’s that, but I’m really saying he played all of you.... Our investigators are trying to locate him.” Gabriel glanced at his notes. “He left a resignation letter on his desk for his secretary to find after her vacation.”
“What about the expensive apartment I bought for him?”
“Empty. And he gave his sports car to the apartment doorman, with no record of him buying another. There’s no evidence of him going anywhere, which means he probably had help. Before closing his personal accounts he amassed at least $21 million.”
“About right,” Swanson confirmed casually. “I was paying him $2 million a year with bonuses. Over ten years and a frugal lifestyle, he would accumulate quite a lot. Where’s the money now?”
“Don’t know. First he transferred it to a Swiss account, then to the Caymans where he bought bearer bonds. He did the same thing with the $50 million taken from Snath Genetics. All the accounts are now closed. No one’s seen him for four days, but just before he disappeared, he gave his production manager, Eric Thames a $5 million bonus.”
“Where’s Thames now?”
“He retired. We’re searching for him as well.”
“Harrumph, traitors...all of them!” Swanson poured another glass. “What about Jared’s car?”
With a flick of Gabriel’s finger, a 3-D image of a black SUV came onto the screen. In it, a firemen was using mechanical jaws to rip an opening into the crumpled upside down carcass.
“We can’t find any tampering with the vehicle.” Gabriel’s eyes drifted from the carnage to the casino lights. “But it’s odd...”
“What’s odd?”
Gabriel’s focus returned to Swanson. “The onboard computer said the traction control suddenly activated and caused the right front to brake and the rear wheels to accelerate. That combination forced the vehicle to go straight even though Jared’s driver tried turning left.”
The next image showed black lines on a paved road leading to ruts on a gravel turnout. At the far edge, a guard rail section was missing. Beyond the gap was the distant Mediterranean Sea.
“Skid marks on the roadway and turnoff confirm the right front wheel locked.”
“But there’s more than one black line.”
“Those other skids are the rear wheels propelling the car against the front brake.” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “Alexis, I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
“So it was a freak accident?”
“Where Anna’s concerned, I don’t presume anything’s an accident. It’s too coincidental to have happened on the most dangerous curve on the roadway,” Gabriel said with a bit of pride in his former student. “Oh, and Jared suffocated.”
“Damn thing went over a cliff, man! What would you expect?!” Swanson charged sarcastically.
“He suffocated...after the accident. The coroner didn’t catch it, but our specialist did. We kept it quiet.”
“Why?!”
“I don’t want the police getting too inquisitive.”
“So, she finished him off?” Swanson snarled.
“That’s my guess, probably to keep Jared from revealing what he knew about her. Though she might have done him a favor.”
“Favor?”
“His back and neck were broken. We also couldn’t find his iPad or anything taken from her villa – she must have removed any evidence from the crash.”
“Have you found her servant?”
“Maulana’s body hasn’t been found and all records were incinerated when she torched the armory. If she helped him escape, finding him would be a dead-end. Even when I visited, she would dismiss him so he wouldn’t be privy to our conversation.”
“Not only was she tactically brilliant, she was secretive, I’ll give her that.” Swanson leaned back and sipped his drink.
Gabriel nodded. “I’ll raise that to strategically brilliant – her ability to take your operational plan and build entire missions around it were inspired. Anna was the best agent I ever recruited, or even of those I worked with back at Langley.... You said Jared got very little from interrogating the Bangladeshi other than she had disinfected the villa and made plans to dispose of her possessions?”
Swanson nodded.
Gabriel continued. “The Anna I knew wouldn’t have given her clothes or dojo equipment to charity. She was selfish, preferring to sell or destroy them. Such things were just tools for her.... Protecting the villa from the fire and sending the artwork to a local museum, yes, that I can see. Those were personal.”
“What about her jewelry?”
Gabriel shrugged. “Gone. I’ve reported the pieces we know about as stolen.”
“What about transportation out?”
“I have people going over video surveillance even though I doubt she used a local airport. We’ll be hard pressed to recognize her even if she winked at the camera.”
“She is good with disguises.”
“For that, I’ll take credit.” Gabriel grinned with pride.
“And how do you do that?”
“At the beginning of her training I had her tutored for a few months by a makeup and visual effects artist, and a couple months with a forger.”
“Her aliases...what are they?”
“Over the past decade, I’ve provided her over 50 unique sets, which we’re watching.
She undoubtedly has many others bought from other suppliers.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because I trained her to do that. She could be anywhere.”
“What do you propose?”
“To elicit an ally with deeper resources. We’ll set up a ruse to motivate another group to go after her.”
Swanson straightened. “Like what?”
“Well, she set up Operation Prion to hurt global fossil fuel companies, didn’t she?”
“Yes, so?”
“Perhaps the Russians were bitten by it as well. It shouldn’t be hard to uncover who suffered the worst and is connected to the Russian mob.”
“You sic the Russians on her, not only will she know I gave them the info and release the files, but I won’t have the pleasure of having her tortured here,” Swanson charged angrily.
“Can we use the term interrogated? Torture’s a bit crude.”
“The result’s the same!” Swanson sneered.
Gabriel shrugged off the comment. “Anyway, I thought that if we sic the Russians after Nike—“
“Nike?”
“Yes. Goddess of strength, speed, and victory – it’s Anna’s ego at play here. Nike’s a pseudonym to her fake identity, Olga Svechinsky. We’ll use the fake name with the Russians and the bounty hunters so she won’t think you sent them. Rather, she’ll presume one of her hackers talked.”
Swanson’s brow creased. “How do you know the name she used?”
“That was one of the IDs I made. She used it in Las Vegas...but Olga’s gone off radar.”
“What happens if the Russians catch her?”
“We offer to buy her...provided they don’t interrogate.”
Swanson’s eyes brightened.
Gabriel added with a cheerful tone, “She may even be grateful you’re trying to save her from them.” He glanced up in thought with a widened smile. “And because her retribution against you might be initiated in her absence, she might be willing to tell you how to stop it while you’re negotiating her rescue. Once she’s in our hands and her threat’s neutralized, do what you wish with her.”
Swanson grinned. “Oh, I like that!” He downed his vodka then slapped the empty glass on the table. “Make it happen!”