by Daco
Jordan whipped her head back around to face the girl. “What do you know about numbers and codes?”
“Everything.”
“If you don’t tell me exactly what you know, I’ll be the first to walk out that door and leave you behind to fend for yourself.”
“Baba said not to tell you until I was safe,” Isbel fought back.
Jordan looked at Sonya again, only this time she was seething with anger.
Chapter 19
“Just sit there,” Jordan said to Isbel. Then she followed Sonya into the bathroom for a private discussion.
“I should have known,” Jordan spoke first.
“You leave us no choice,” Sonya replied. “You’ve got to call Fat Su to compare the codes.”
“That opens up everything,” Jordan said. “Which exposes not only me, but potentially everyone.”
“We can’t let this op come down to some young girl who ought to be lying in a drainage ditch.”
“Will you come off it? We need the girl if she’s telling the truth.”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Sonya glanced at herself in the mirror.
“Listen to me,” Jordan said. “We can’t rule out whether the girl is telling the truth or lying.”
“Where are the codes?” Sonya asked. “Let’s have a look.”
Jordan pointed to the side of her head. “Here.”
“Very good, Jordan.”
Jordan leaned back against the basin.
“So,” Sonya continued, “when you looked at the numbers, you must have checked the count.”
“I have the full strings,” Jordan said. “Or at least enough numbers to make the full count.
“So assuming the girl is telling the truth, it means some or all of the numbers are wrong.” Eyeing Jordan, she said, “Maybe the girl has the numbers written down somewhere. Possibly in her bag?”
Jordan shook her head no. “When I picked her up in Tehran, I went through her things. She’s clean. All she’s got are her clothes and meds. She’s probably memorized whatever it is she needs to know.”
“There is one thing we can do to get the numbers out of her.”
Jordan knew exactly what she was getting at, but she wasn’t ready to start down that road. “Look,” she said, “I’m confident I can get down to the control room. I can launch the missile from the computer system if I have time to run a break-code. I’ve got a flash drive with the algorithm. The only other way to go about it is manually. But if what Isbel says is true and the panels in the control room really are welded together, then accessing the electrical board is out — for the record, I have a hard time believing her. That brings me to the last possibility.”
Sonya’s eyes widened. “A climb down the barrel is a death warrant, Jordan.”
“You got a better way to light the match?” Jordan stared into her eyes.
Sonya didn’t argue. “You do what you have to,” was all she said.
Jordan continued. “We’re not talking about a massive underground complex. It’s only a single Atlas silo. There’s a good chance I could get out before Libra starts smoking. It’s possible. It’s doable.”
“If you ask me, I think it’s time to call Fat Su.”
“What if Fat Su only has a partial string of numbers? What if his numbers are wrong, too? We can’t discount the possibility that Farrokh was holding out on everyone.” No way was Jordan going to call Fat Su. They both knew that, regardless of how much Sonya urged her to call.
Sonya quieted and looked at her reflection in the mirror again.
“If you ask me,” Jordan said, “Farrokh knew Fat Su marked him a liability. When he took that fall and mangled his left hand, he lost his job with Missile Defense Main — who needs a one-handed guy, right? So it makes sense the Chinese were getting rid of Farrokh, too. Why else would they have asked me to clean up?”
“Or they’re making him a scapegoat.”
“That too.”
Sonya folded her arms.
“I think,” Jordan continued, “I can convince the girl to give me the numbers. We can’t bring Fat Su into the mix. The Chinese have to believe everything is going according to plan. You know that. Otherwise, they’ll figure out real quick they’re being set-up and then everything we’ve been working for will backfire.” Jordan took a moment to judge Sonya’s response. “Are we together on this?”
“I never thought I’d see the day when the Russians and Americans were working together to take apart China and everything comes down to some twit of a young stupid girl.” Sonya fumed with anger.
“I never thought I’d have to work a jigsaw puzzle to set off a missile.”
“The NSB never puts complete trust in any one person; that’s why you’re involved.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Jordan said. “Let me take the girl and we’ll head toward Mashhad. I have a safe house where we can stay the night. We’ll head to the city tomorrow, first thing. I should get there by midafternoon. I’ll check into the hotel and stay in lockdown until launch time. Since the rocket doesn’t fly until Monday — presuming there are no more delays, and everything remains on schedule from there — that gives me time to work the girl.”
“Which leaves only the question of your boy.”
“He’s not going anywhere.”
“No, he isn’t.” Sonya threw a hand to her hip. “You don’t need to come back here. After Libra flies, you need to get out of the country.”
Jordan pulled away from the basin. “What are you proposing?”
“I’ll stay with your boy.”
“You?”
“Yes, but only to make sure nothing stupid happens.”
Jordan stared into Sonya’s eyes to judge her real intentions. If Sonya could ruthlessly kill a young girl, she’d have no qualms about taking out a grown man who’d seen too much.
“Don’t worry,” Sonya told her. “When he’s released, I’ll get him to Ashgabat and on the first plane home.”
Jordan never expected Sonya to go this far.
“I won’t harm him,” Sonya added.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Jordan lied because she wasn’t sure.
“He’s safer with me than you.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Jordan acquiesced. “But I could always come back for him.”
“I can handle this. I’ve got plenty of money to pay off the doctor before Tavaazo or anyone else gets to him.” Sonya folded her arms together again. “So stop worrying.”
“It’s very generous of you, maybe too generous.”
“I’ll put it on your tab.”
What choice did Jordan have? Her gut told her to go with it. But only because she believed that Snake must have had a hand in Sonya’s plan.
“Any last words to the boy if you don’t make it out?” Sonya’s tone was sarcastic, despite her look of concern.
“How considerate of you.”
Sonya raised her chin and waited for a response.
“Just get him home,” Jordan returned. If she couldn’t have Ben for herself, the least she could do was to make sure he got home alive.
A nurse stood at the door. “I’m sorry, ladies, the patient needs his rest. We only allow one guest to stay overnight,” she told them.
Jordan walked past Sonya and over to Isbel. “You and I are leaving,” she said to the girl. “Sonya is staying.”
“Just us?” the girl asked.
“Yes.”
The nurse raised Ben’s arm to measure his pulse.
“Jordan?” Ben tried to speak.
She walked to the other side of the bed and drew near his face. With her cheek to his, Jordan spoke in a muffled whisper. “Just go with it, Ben. Don’t talk. Whatever you do, stop talking, o
therwise they’ll figure out who you are.” Then she ran her fingers across his lips and watched as the nurse raised the blanket to check his bandages.
The nurse checked the fluids and changed a bag. Then looked over at Jordan. “Is he having much pain?” she asked her.
“Yes,” Jordan replied. “He’s in pain,” and then she rubbed Ben’s arm. She could see the pain in his face — the way he jutted his jaw and furrowed his brow. The man had little tolerance for pain.
A memory surfaced. The one when they were shooting hoops together last summer. She was ahead in the count, about to take him. Ben spun midair to block her shot and missed. Taking a hard fall, he did little more than pull a hamstring. But anyone watching would have thought he’d suffered an amputation. Jordan smiled inside, thinking back to that easier time. A time when all she’d had to do was to love him.
The nurse withdrew a syringe and administered pain medication in Ben’s IV. Ben opened his eyes as if feeling the rush and reached for Jordan. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips were dry and cracked. “Jordan.”
Jordan hushed him with a kiss.
“He’ll be fine,” the nurse said to Jordan, then tucked the blanket around his body.
“Thank you,” was all Jordan could say; she felt so helpless.
After the nurse left the room, Ben clung to Jordan’s arm. “Don’t leave me,” he said.
“Rest,” Jordan whispered in his ear. “I want you to rest now. I promise you’ll be fine,” and when his arm gently fell to the bed, she lifted her head, brushing her lips across his cheek as she repeated, “Soon. Very soon.”
• • •
On the ride back to the park, neither Jordan nor Isbel spoke.
The driver stopped next to the Samand.
“Come on,” Jordan said to the girl, then helped her out of the car. Once seated inside the Samand, Jordan faced the girl. Their eyes locked in a stare. “Where are my papers and guns? I want them now,” Jordan said to her.
“Everything’s inside my pillowcase,” the girl confessed.
“Where is it?”
“See those two trees?” Isbel pointed to two large trees. “I set the pillowcase behind the first tree next to a rock. You can’t miss it.” She sniveled. “I’m sorry.”
But Jordan wasn’t about to let her off the hook, not yet. “Wait here,” she told the girl, then opened her door.
“I want that pillowcase,” Isbel said.
Jordan looked at her.
Tears fell from her eyes. “My grandmother embroidered it.”
“So we have a common goal,” was all Jordan said. Then she shut the car door and raced down the path toward the trees. It wasn’t long before Jordan returned to the car, telling Isbel, “It’s not there. Are you sure you put it there?”
“Yes, it has to be there.”
“Are you sure you have the correct set of trees?”
Isbel looked toward the trees. Then glanced to her right and back. “Yes. I think.”
“It’s not a guessing game, Isbel. Now think, where did you put it?”
“Over there. I’m sure I went that way. Did you see the rocks?”
Jordan glanced to their right. “What about the trees over there? Could you be mistaken about the location?”
“No. I remember.”
“Look.” Isbel pointed to some teenagers coming into view on the far side of the park. “I think they have it?”
Jordan gasped. “I’ll be back.” Then she flew from the car and with stealth, she raced down the path to catch the boys before they left the park. Without asking, Jordan grabbed the pillowcase out of the hand of the boy who was carrying it.
“Hey!” the young man shouted. “Give me that.” He reached for the pillowcase, but soon found out that he was no match for her.
Jordan smacked the boy between the eyes.
He stumbled.
The other boy charged her next.
She ducked and threw a foot to his knee. And as he leaned forward, she scissor-flipped, threw another leg to him, and knocked him to the ground.
The first boy came at her again.
She postured.
The boy stopped.
She tightened her stance and challenged him to attack.
The other boy scrambled to his feet.
She postured to him next.
A moment of silence passed. Then she glimpsed inside the pillowcase and quickly counted two guns and her attaché. “Where’s the money?” she demanded.
The young man who was holding the case turned to run.
Jordan leapt forward and caught him by the back of the collar. When he struggled, she threw him facedown to the ground and gripped him by the neck. The other boy ran.
The young man reached inside his pockets. “Here,” he cried, “take it.” He began throwing the money to the ground.
“Is it all there?”
“That’s it.” The boy pulled the pockets out of his pants. “See?”
“If you’re lying, I’ll kill you,” she said to scare him.
“I’m not. I swear.”
She quickly patted him down.
“What’s the other boy got?” she asked.
“Money, that’s all,” the boy answered.
She shouted into his face, “You never saw me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
She released her grasp, jumped to her feet, and took off after the other boy. She reached him just as he made it to the sidewalk.
The lights of a car appeared.
She hooked her arm through his and pulled him close. “Act normal or I’ll kill you,” she told him.
The boy did as she asked.
The car slowed. It was late. An odd time for an evening stroll.
“Keep walking,” she told the boy.
“What do you want?”
“Shut up. Keep walking.”
The car stopped.
“What now?” the boy said.
“Keep walking,” she told him. “Don’t look at them.”
The car moved along. When it turned at the corner, she spoke to the boy. “Don’t try anything; just give me the money.”
“What — ?”
Jordan stepped back and forced the boy’s arms behind his back. “All of it,” she demanded.
Arching against the pain, the boy reached in his pocket and found the money. “Here.” He held it out to her.
She pressed his arm higher and harder. “What else do you have?” she asked him next.
“Nothing,” he shrieked. “Nothing.”
She frisked him anyway. When she ascertained that he was clean, she loosened her grip. “You never saw me. Are we clear about that?”
“Yes. I don’t even know who you are. How would I?”
“Did you look at the papers?”
“No, no. I swear.”
“Keep walking,” she said. “Don’t turn around or you’ll be kissing pavement.”
“Anything you say, lady.”
Jordan released the boy’s arm and he took off running as fast as his legs could spin. When he was safely out of sight, Jordan turned and sprinted back to the Samand. When she got there, she jerked open the door — only Isbel was gone.
Chapter 20
Isbel was gone again.
Jordan was just about to lose it, then she saw the girl rise up from behind the vehicle.
“Jordan?” the girl said.
She hurried to the girl. “What are you doing?”
Isbel tried to explain. “I got — ”
“Don’t!” Jordan waved a finger in the girl’s face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Isbel tried to apologize.
Jordan glared at the girl.
“Don’t ever leave like that again. Are we clear?”
“There were two of them and only one of you.”
“Don’t,” was all Jordan could say without coming unglued.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to — ”
“Stop,” Jordan said. She’d heard enough.
A dog howled in the distance. “Come on, let’s get you back in the car.” And once they were seated in the car again, Jordan faced Isbel and spoke to her in a calm voice. “You don’t ever have to worry about me. I’m never going to take on more than I can handle. Okay?”
Isbel didn’t speak, but shook her head.
“I’m not going to leave you,” Jordan said next because she could see the girl needed to hear these words. “I’ll get you to Ashgabat, okay?”
“Everyone leaves,” Isbel said in a quiet whisper.
Jordan hugged the steering wheel with an arm. “I’m not leaving you,” she told her again.
Isbel stared at her.
And while Jordan had the girl’s attention, she gave her a stern warning. “And don’t ever take my stuff again. Do you understand?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve had enough surprises for a day, maybe even a lifetime. And I certainly don’t need any more, not if we’re going to make it out of here alive. Are we agreed?”
“Yes.” Isbel sniffled.
Jordan gave the girl a moment to regroup, then patted her leg. “You okay?”
Isbel nodded.
“Now,” Jordan said, “before we leave this parking lot — you and me together — I want those numbers.”
With the Falcon 9 SpaceX rocket slated to launch Monday, Jordan was down to the wire. She could break into the silo. She could hack the computer system, or even climb into the pit, but she had enough to worry about without having to go that extra mile.
Orbiting Earth every ninety to one hundred minutes meant the laser had to be sitting within the strike zone when Jordan launched the missile. If it wasn’t, there’d be nothing for the laser to lock onto. And with missile speeds reaching in excess of ten thousand miles per hour and a distance of only five thousand kilometers to travel from Mashhad to Bonn, the ride would be short. There’d be no room for error. The laser had to lock on to the missile as soon as it lifted to ensure it’d strike the missile before it impacted land, whether or not the German’s antiballistic defense did the job first.