by Ken W. Smith
“Three, two, one, you’re on,” Roger said as the camera record light turned red.
“Joanne, this is Jessie Bessie reporting live from Rio de Janeiro.”
“Wait. Who is this Jessie person Joanne?” Kathleen said. “Why is she breaking into my report?”
“Because she’s the reporter I’ve assigned to report on today’s event. She’s our pool reporter.”
“What do you mean you assigned her?”
“I told you, Kathleen, you’ve been replaced. I’m now President of GNN.”
“Who appointed you?”
“The CEO of Goddard International, Michelle Goddard. She has the support of the Board of Directors. Jessie, please continue with your broadcast.”
“Thank you, Joanne. I’m watching the Pope’s motorcade arrive at the magnificent cathedral here in downtown Rio. He’s standing in his ‘Popemobile’ waving to crowds of supporters lining the streets. There are hundreds of police officers dressed in riot gear lining the route, but the crowd is in a celebratory mood except for a small group of protesters who are waving signs and shouting at the Pope in Portuguese.”
“What are they saying, Jessie?” Joanne asked.
“They are followers of The Master. They are denouncing the American Pope and the Catholic church. They want death to the Pope and the Bishops. They say he’s responsible for the millions of people in the world who are living in poverty.”
“Thank you, Jessie,” Joanne said. “I understand you had a chance to tour the Metropolitan Cathedral yesterday. Could you share your thoughts?”
“It’s a breathtaking building,” Jessie said. “I was told the conical-shaped structure was dedicated in nineteen seventy-six and stood over two hundred feet high. Inside, four huge stain-glass windows rise from the floor to the ceiling that joins in the middle to form a glass cross. The altar sits in the center of the cathedral, surrounded by wooden benches. Today, over five thousand Bishops and priests from Latin America will attend the private mass with the Pope.”
“Joanne,” Kathleen said. “I was at the Cathedral three years ago for the worldwide family celebration….”
“That’s nice, Kathleen,” Joanne said. “We have to break for a commercial now.”
“Great job Jessie,” Gia said. “They’re ready to go.”
Chapter 47
Making a daylight raid was very risky, especially in the middle of a crowded marina filled with multi-million-dollar yachts. But Jay Mendes and his team were willing to take the risk to stop McFarland and Kathleen Amejian’s terrorist operation.
Jay fit his dive mask over his face and gave McCoy the thumbs up. The pair dropped off the side of the Brazilian Federal Police patrol boat and into Guanabara Bay’s temperate waters.
Jay last visited the yacht, Matthew Goddard’s wedding gift to Kathleen Amejian, in Dubai. He was there searching for Kathleen and Matthew Goddard, who disappeared right under his nose. Goddard took Antonio and Gia, who was undercover as a Saudi Prince and Princess, on a helicopter tour of Dubai. When the helicopter returned from the yacht, it crashed into the base of the Burj al Arab Hotel. After the crash, Jay dove down to the wreckage looking for bodies but didn’t find any. When a security team boarded the yacht, they also found the vessel empty. He recently learned the kidnappers whisked their victims away using a mini-sub docked in the hull.
The pair swam below the hull of the yacht, looking for bombs.
“Kyle, no sign of any booby traps. Where is the manual hatch control?” Jay said.
“It’s to the starboard side of the submarine hatch. Look for a round indentation. There’s a handle in the middle. You need to turn counterclockwise.”
“Okay, I see it,” Jay said. He grabbed the handle and twisted it. The dual doors opened with a flush of air bubbles, allowing Jay to swim under the door.
“It’s clear,” Jay said.
As he climbed the ladder onto the small boarding platform, Jay noticed a set of footprints on the white fiberglass deck.
“It looks like several people left the yacht via the submarine,” Jay said into his radio. “Kyle, notify the Brazilian police to be on the lookout for McFarland. Is Kathleen still broadcasting?”
“Yes, she’s in a helicopter over the Metropolitan Cathedral.”
“You know, I have a hunch. Ask Michelle and Jessie to take a close look at the helicopter. Try to confirm that Kathleen is onboard.”
“Jay, what are you saying? That Kathleen isn’t on the helicopter?”
Jay and McCoy dropped their backpacks on the deck. They stripped out of their wetsuits and placed them in their packs. Jay pulled out a compact M4 assault rifle, and McCoy pulled out an Uzi submachine pistol. When they were ready to move, Jay opened the door to the submarine bay. He peered in both directions then stepped through the door.
The lower-level corridor resembled a hall in the Palace Versailles. Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling. Priceless works of art decorated the mahogany-covered walls. Jay stepped gently on the hard, Carrera marble floors trying to stay silent as they went door-to-door. The crew cabins, engine room, and galley were all empty. He led McCoy up a set of oriental carpet-clad stairs to the next deck. This level was just as plush. Halfway down the hall, Jay noticed a pair of steel double doors.
“Lower deck is clear. We’re on deck two, and I see the command center. Halfway down on the port side. We’re going to stay here until Ernesto’s team clears the upper decks.”
“Chief,” Michelle said. “Kathleen’s helicopter appears to be empty. It’s being flown by remote control.”
“I knew it, “Jay said. “ Someone’s controlling the helicopter from the yacht.”
“Who’s flying a full-size helicopter by remote control?” Kyle said. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before.”
There was a moment of silence on the radio. Then Jay said, “Kyle, it’s your father.”
A more extended silence followed. Then Kyle muttered, “What are you talking about?”
“He’s not dead, Kyle,” Jay said. “He was kidnapped. We don’t know if he’s part of the terrorist group or if the kidnappers are forcing him to cooperate. But we have evidence suggesting he’s responsible for building and controlling the seagull drones.”
“Who kidnapped him?”
“Reginald McFarland. The same man who kidnapped you and Charlotte.”
“That’s crazy!”
“I know it’s shocking, but I need your head to be clear. We’re in a perilous situation, and millions of innocent people can die.”
“Don’t kill him, Jay. Please don’t kill my father. I want to speak with him. I need to know if he meant to leave us. If he still wants to come home.”
“No promises. We’ll do our best.”
“Mendes,” Ernesto Cabral said in the headset. “Team two is ready to go. Is the lower deck clear?”
“Roger. It’s clear.”
“We’re using flashbangs when we board, so don’t let the explosions spook you.”
“Got it.”
A second later, Jay heard the explosions above him. The command center opened, and two large muscular men carrying handguns ran out.
One man ran in the opposite direction and up the stairs before Jay could get a shot off. But the other man ran right at McCoy. Before he had a chance to react, the man pointed his handgun right at McCoy’s face.
Jay beat him to the punch and squeezed his trigger twice, causing the man’s head to explode in a spray of red.
“Nice shot,” McCoy said. “You haven’t lost your touch.”
“Thanks.”
“The door to the command center is still open,” McCoy said as he stepped over the bloody body. “C’mon, Chief.”
McCoy ran up to the door and stuck his foot in the jamb before it closed.
“Cabral, we’re going into the command center,” Jay said on the radio.
“Mendes, wait for us. We’re one deck above you. You don’t know what’s inside.”
“I know,
but we have one foot inside the door. So we have to go in.”
Jay slammed his shoulder against the steel door, and it gave way.
The room contained television lights, computer consoles, and a bright green wall.
Kathleen Amejian stood in front of the wall holding a microphone.
In front of her, a video camera stood on a tripod. A slender, redhead man sat in front of a cluster of computer screens mounted on a single arm to her left. He operated something with a black joystick.
Jay walked up behind the man in the chair. The center screen of the console showed an empty helicopter cockpit. Outside the window was a panoramic view of downtown Rio. On the left screen, he could see Kathleen standing in front of the green screen. On the right, the image merged Kathleen’s image with the view of the city. Jay pushed his rifle muzzle against the back of the man’s skull and said, “Don’t move.”
Jay stared at Kathleen. It was the first time he saw her in person since the day of his sentencing. She glared at him with a look of defiance and disbelief. Then she looked into the camera. “Well, it looks like my broadcast must come to an end. I have a situation I must deal with. This is Kathleen Amejian signing off.”
Jay held his ground. He bent down and whispered in the man’s ear.
“Are you Daniel McPhee?” Jay said. “Don’t say anything. Just nod your head and don’t turn the camera or microphone off.”
The man nodded.
McCoy stood behind the camera. His rifle pointed at Kathleen. The red laser designator danced between her eyes. Kathleen took one step towards McCoy.
“Stop, Kathleen,” McCoy said. “Don’t move.”
“I thought you were dead, Mendes,” Kathleen said.
“You thought wrong,” Jay replied. “Kathleen, why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“The list is long. Let’s start with you murdering Matthew Goddard.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You were the one put on trial for pulling the trigger.”
“Yes, and I was found not guilty. “My colleagues returned to the cave. We found the gun. It had your fingerprints and DNA all over it. The bullet fragment they pulled out of my neck had Matthew’s DNA on it. So the bullet came from your gun.”
“Perhaps it was a mistake. A reaction to seeing your assault team butchering my men.”
“We also captured an associate of yours. He tried to stop us from removing the gun from the cave. But he told us how Israeli bombs killed your family in Lebanon. I met your uncles Sammi and Rajji. Rajji’s dead. Sammi spoke with the FBI. He told us everything about how he presided over your wedding and how you used the trust fund he set up to help his sister’s orphans. Then he explained how you and al-Mujadin hijacked the account and funneled the money into your terrorist organization. Kathleen, we have proof your money went to building the suicide bombs that leveled St. Patrick’s Cathedral.”
Kathleen didn’t respond. She glared at Jay. She didn’t notice the camera record light was still on.
“Why did you blame me, Kathleen?” Why me? Why did you ruin my career? Destroy my team. We were in that cave to save your life.”
Kathleen’s eyes teared up as her anger boiled up. “Because you killed the man I loved.”
“I said you killed Goddard.”
“I didn’t love Goddard, you idiot!” I was using him! We were going to change the world by destroying the Catholic church, then blame the Jews and the moderate Muslims. We plan to kill all the infidels, especially you holier than thou Americans. You are the ones who built the bombs the Jews used to kill my family. But no, you and your band of merry misfits had to ruin our plans!”
“You’re talking about al-Mujadin,” Jay said. “He wasn’t your kidnapper, was he? You were the kidnapper and faked the whole thing so you could get your hands on Goddard’s money. But it was more than the money. It was the power and the fame, wasn’t it? You don’t give a shit about jihad.”
Kathleen smirked but didn’t say anything.
“Now I get it,” Jay said. “You wanted to be number one!” Show the world Kathleen Amejian was the best reporter. Always breaking the biggest stories.”
Kathleen’s smirk turned into a half-smile and said, “You always thought you were so smart, Mendes. You think you’ve figured everything out. Now that you’ve exposed me, you think the world is safe again. But you’re wrong. I didn’t report on the news. I created it. My coverage of the Papal bombings would have been perfect—Cathedrals burning around the world. But Mendes, you ruined it! Your stupid shot ruined the attack. I have one last chance to report the perfect story. Daniel, blow the chopper!”
“Daniel, no!” Jay said as he pressed his rifle muzzle hard against McPhee’s head. “Don’t do it.”
Sweat poured down McPhee’s forehead. Jay felt him shaking with fear.
“Blow the fucking chopper, Daniel, or I’ll do it myself!” Kathleen said as she stepped towards Jay and McPhee. McCoy released the safety on his rifle.
“Don’t move Kathleen, or I’ll shoot,” McCoy said.
Jay heard footsteps behind him as the room filled with law enforcement officials. He saw Mack standing next to Ernesto Cabral.
“Kathleen Amejian,” Cabral said. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Matthew Goddard.”
“Fuck all of you,” Kathleen said as she dove toward the computer console. Mack jumped, tackling her to the ground.
Daniel flinched, pulling the joystick to the right. Jay saw the image of the helicopter veer off at a ninety-degree angle.
“Daniel, the chopper!” Jay said. “You’re losing control.”
“If he dies, we all die,” Kathleen said as she struggled to escape from Mack’s embrace. “Everyone including the Pope and the President. And everyone on this yacht.”
“What do you mean, Kathleen?” Jay said. “What have you done?”
“Tell him, Daniel!”
The man sitting at the desk shivered in fear. He held the helicopter control tight in his hand. But he didn’t respond.
“Tell him, dammit!” Kathleen screamed. “Tell him what happens if that helicopter crashes. What happens if you take your hand off the joystick.”
Jay looked at Daniel in horror. He realized Daniel was a hostage and the victim of a horrible crime. Forced to create weapons that killed hundreds of people. Now he could be killing millions more.
“I, I… “ Daniel stammered. “If I let go of the joystick….”
“What happens, Daniel?”
The helicopter… it… explodes!”
“It’s filled with liquid explosives, you idiots,” Kathleen said in an angry sneer. “Twenty gallons of it. He’s hovering over the Pope as we speak. But there’s more. McFarland installed fifty-five gallons of explosives in the engine room of the yacht. If he lets go of the joystick,”
“I trigger the bomb,” Daniel said in a whisper. “She’s right. If I die, we all die.”
“Don’t move. I have another question.” Jay asked. “Daniel, where’s McFarland?”
“He’s plan B.”
Chapter 48
Jay and McCoy sprinted down the hallway as Ernesto Cabral and his team cleared out of the yacht. They took the stairs up to the main deck three steps at a time. When they reached the main deck, they saw an incredible sight. Hundreds of yachts filled the inner harbor. People were cheering as the Pope appeared on large televisions around the shoreline. A sea of humanity filled every square inch of land on the harbor’s edge. Jay saw the President of Brazil shake the Pope’s hand and wave to the crowd. The crowd exploded in excitement. Standing next to the Pope was the President of the United States. To his horror, he saw his ex-girlfriend Natalie Choi standing next to the President as part of his secret service entourage.
“Maravista team,” Jay said into his headset. “I need a sitrep.”
“I’m on the stage with Bishop Ramirez,” Gia responded.
“Madman and I are on a rooftop overlooking the crowd,” CJ said.
“I’m in the control center back home,” Kyle said. “I’ve hacked into Kathleen’s computer system and can take control of the helicopter if you need me to.”
“We’re still hovering over the stage,” Michelle said. “Jessie is on the air.”
“I’m right next to you,” McCoy said.
“Mack, where are you?” Jay said.
“I’m coming up from below decks. I’ll be there in thirty seconds. Cabral is taking Kathleen into custody.”
“We need to find McFarland and fast,” Jay said. “He’s somewhere in the crowd.”
“Well, that narrows it down, Chief,” CJ said. “There are only two million people out there.”
“CJ, you and Madman scan the high-rise buildings around the park.”
“They’re filled with police snipers.”
“Look for suspicious ones that are pointing their rifle towards the stage. The sniper may be posing as a cop.”
“Michelle, scan the crowd for possible suicide bombers.”
“Gia, can you get Bishop Ramirez off the stage?”
“Negative. Not until the Pope’s done with his speech. We’re surrounded by other priests.”
“Mendes, you and your team need to leave the yacht now!” Cabral said from behind Jay. “You must evacuate.”
“How do you suggest we do that?” Jay said. “We’re trapped by the other yachts.”
“I’ll give you a ride. Put your guns away so you don’t scare people. Here, I brought three windbreakers for that purpose.”
Jay, McCoy, and Mack took the dark-green jackets. Large white letters on the back spelled POLICIA on the back.
“What about, McPhee?”
“We’ve taped his hand to the joystick,” Ernesto said. “I’m staying with him until our bomb squad arrives.”
“Treat him well. His son is on my team. He’s a victim, not a suspect.”
“I hope you are right. I have a family to go home to.”
“Let’s go,” Jay said as he climbed over the side rail and jumped onto the patrol boat.