“My civilian operative, Nappy, was helping me invoke Rule 225, and he drives a car that bears the same number, that’s all,” said Alex.
Alex sat himself up straight; then as if he were reciting a prayer, he said, “‘When an operative is certain that his agency or the governing body controlling it has been corrupted, the operative shall take all measures necessary to eradicate the corrupting influence and restore justice to all concerned.’ That’s Rule 225, my deuce and a quarter.”
“Okay,” said Luther to Alex, “if it’s true, then what did you learn about the agency to invoke this so-called rule?”
“The murder of the secretary of commerce was a conspiracy,” said Alex. “But it had deeper implications than even I knew. I accompanied the secretary to Africa, but my E-1 mission was to recover information from a man named Kiko Salli.”
“Kilmer said you were there to kill a strongman named Behiddah,” said Luther.
“An internal cover mission,” said Alex calmly. “Kilmer had to conceal what he was doing even from his own agents. Behiddah was killed by his own men, just like the news services reported. My mission was to get Salli’s information, with the help of the secretary, and then take it from him, replacing it with useless files. The secretary would have knowledge of the information but no proof.”
“If Kilmer wanted the secretary dead, why not ask you to do it?” asked Luther.
“First, I wouldn’t have done it,” said Deavers. “The secretary posed no threat to the United States. Second, I think the decision to kill us all came later. I don’t think Kilmer wanted to chance anything. But he picked a man outside E-1, he got sloppy, and I got lucky.”
“So where is the information?” asked Luther. He didn’t expect Alex to tell him, so this would be the end of the interrogation. Alex would try to get free by telling Luther that he had to take him to the information.
“The information I brought from Africa led me to different places. It was hidden in parts of the cities you followed me to. I hid it in the wall of a garage in the backyard of a drug-supply house in your fair city,” said Alex.
“How dangerous is this drug house?” asked Luther.
“It supplies runners, so it’s minimum security. It’s on a street called St. Aubin near your old home. Nice touch, huh?”
“Is this one of Nappy’s places?” asked Luther. He knew that it probably was, and he wasn’t happy about the prospect of encountering Nappy again.
“Of course,” said Alex. “But he doesn’t know. I don’t trust Nappy that much.”
“Why not just tell me all this?” Luther asked with a little anger in his voice. “Why try to kill me and force me to kill you?”
“I calmly ask you to commit treason, to work against your own agency as a counteragent? And what would you have done?”
“I would have killed you,” said Luther, “and then I would have looked into it.” He saw Alex’s point.
“But this information you refer to,” said Hampton, “doesn’t it speak for itself?”
“Not completely,” said Alex. “Which is why I’m here in Detroit. The last part of it, the verifying part, is here, and only I know where it is. The agency doesn’t know that, because they’ve never seen the Africa information.”
“And my family?” Luther made this last statement with resentment.
“Rule 225 does not negate the other rules. I was just trying to win the game. They were forfeit, Luther, but you’ve obviously taken measures to save them. In the end that’s always a mistake.”
Luther saw real truth in the face of his old mentor. In a job where lies and half-truths were the norm, only action spoke clearly and without taint and deception. Alex’s actions had been honest and unsullied. He’d risked his life and endangered the lives of others to obtain something in this city. He’d gone against the agency to do it, and he’d forced a pursuing agent to doubt his commanders by taking that agent to extremes. Luther was left with no logical choice. He believed Alex. God help him, but he believed that Alex’s Rule 225 was real.
And then, from the back of his mind, something rose, a statement he’d heard about rules and their importance. He struggled to remember, because so much had happened to him in the last few weeks.
“Why did you kill Lisa Radcliff, the MI6 agent?”
Alex’s face did not change. He took on no sad or guilty look at the mention of Lisa’s name. “She didn’t believe me,” he said simply. “I wanted her to join me, but she didn’t go for the story simply by being asked. There are too many lies and layers of deception in our lives. Only the mission speaks the truth. And so I knew I had to use the mission to recruit you to my cause.”
“Jesus, he is insane,” said Hampton.
Luther thought he saw something of humanity in Deavers’s eyes—just a flash, a wink of the man inside the agent. Alex had loved Lisa as much as an agent could love, and he had killed her for the greater love of duty.
“Where are you now, Alex?” asked Luther. “What do you need?” He was slipping just a little, showing concern for his friend.
“I must…we must get the domestic information, marry it to the African information, and clean out our agency,” said Alex calmly.
Alex wasn’t going to become human again, thought Luther, at least not right now. He was all business. He’d risked everything to get an ally in this mission, and so Luther’s compassion was falling on deaf ears and a closed heart.
“What has the agency done?” Hampton asked. “What is the African information?”
“Are you familiar with the Wells Foundation?” asked Alex.
“It’s a think tank,” said Hampton. “They’re funded partially by big multinationals and partially by the government, although secretly.”
“They drew up the Iraqi war plan about three years before it happened,” said Luther.
“The Wells Foundation has been around since we dropped the big one on Japan,” said Alex. “Our government, as a new world power, was terrified that it would lose this status, and so we sought to know the one thing that would ensure that it never happened—the future.”
“You’re gonna tell me that these guys at Wells are a bunch of psychics?” asked Luther.
“They predict trends in world affairs—social, economic, and political,” said Hampton.
“They wanted to look into America’s future,” said Deavers. “And so the big brains at Wells began to make predictions based on data and research and every political and cultural event in this country, from wars to bad TV. And they saw something in their crystal ball. They saw the new global economy of the eighties and nineties, the new radicalism and terrorism from the world of Islam, and something else that hasn’t happened yet: the coming crises of energy, natural resources, and population growth.”
“A think tank in Geneva issued a similar report in 1991,” Hampton chimed in. “Although it dealt only with Central Europe, the report said the planet will have a major energy and resource crisis in the next hundred years.”
“Wells agreed, and they told the government that it had to head this off,” said Alex.
“With alternative forms of energy, deep-sea exploration?” Luther was trying to guess where this was going.
“Those things were probably in the official report, but answers like that depend on research, genius, and things that can’t be controlled. In the secret report, your government was told of a more direct way to avoid problems.”
And Luther knew it even before Alex said the word. There was only one way to directly get energy and resources for a nation so big, and only one continent big enough to satisfy its needs.
“Africa,” said Luther.
“Africa was cited by Wells as the continent with the most untapped potential for resources in the world,” said Alex.
“But how would we get it?” asked Hampton. There was alarm in his voice.
“The guys at Wells talked about diplomacy, trade, and even using our own African-Americans to draw lines of commonality in the futur
e.”
“But none of these actions are illegal,” said Luther. “What actions did Wells advise that were not strictly kosher?”
“Wells came up with a simple plan, the one we’ve been using since we came to these shores: devastation and acquisition.”
“We were going to go to war with Africa?” asked Luther, as if the idea were ridiculous.
“Not viable,” said Hampton. “A land war could not be won, and the global community would never support it.”
“A covert operation?” said Luther. “But on that scale? How?” The questions poured from his mouth as if he were an eager student.
Alex straightened himself in the chair. A lesser man might have asked to be let go, but Luther knew that Alex would not. Alex had taught Luther never to free a prisoner until he could be trusted.
“They came up with a long-term covert operation, one that would run by itself after a while.”
“There is no such thing,” said Luther. “An operation needs manpower, direction, supervision—and lots of money. And it could never run without them.”
“Oh, my sweet Lord,” said Hampton. “It could do just that if the mechanism were a living thing.”
“He is a smart one,” said Deavers. Alex smiled again. “Some scientists were sent to work on a way to weaken the continent so that it became dependent on us for assistance, and while we were helping cure the problem we created, we’d take over the country by way of our kindness.”
Luther’s brow furrowed deeply. What was in his mind was monstrous and evil beyond all logic. “The virus,” said Luther. “We planted the AIDS virus in Africa?”
“That’s what the information suggests, and even if we didn’t, the evidence that we wanted to is there,” said Deavers.
“Did the president know?” asked Hampton.
“No,” said Alex. “In fact, the African information indicates that Wells went to great lengths to hide it from him and others in power. The main culprits seem to be the corporations and certain members of the military, but they needed government cooperation. And after the problem blew up in their faces, all the companies and government types ran off, leaving the CIA holding the bag.”
“What makes you think it’s true? What do you know?” asked Hampton.
“The African package contains classified papers,” said Alex, “papers that are authentic. One of them is from the CIA, an internal summary on kill ratios. I’ve checked it out. It was written by a young go-getter in the agency, a hot-shot CIA agent named Kilmer Gray.”
Luther reacted to this with dread. If this were true, they were all marked men. Kilmer would do anything to keep a secret of this magnitude.
“Why would our government hold on to something so potentially lethal to it?” asked Luther.
“A man at Wells who suddenly grew a conscience took the information and then split it in half. One half he kept hidden here. The African information left the country with him. It contained the whereabouts of the half he left in this country.”
“I suppose this man with a conscience was from my hometown,” said Luther.
“Dr. Jay Schrier of Detroit. He escaped to Europe and was eventually found and killed. But he’d already sold the information to Kiko Salli’s father by then.”
“So why didn’t Salli retrieve the American part of the information when they bought the African part from Schrier?”
“The whereabouts of the American package was written in an E-1 code, so they didn’t know it existed. But when I saw it, I knew.”
“Where is it?” Luther asked. “The last part of the American information?”
Alex laughed. It was a hoarse, sick laugh filled with pain, knowledge, and mocking. “It’s in the CIA’s old annex building, a structure now used by the local city government.”
“You did it,” said Hampton. “You raised the terrorism alert. Under the Homeland Security Act, it would now have only minimum security. Damn, that’s smart.” It was obvious Hampton didn’t like Alex, but he did admire his cleverness.
And now Luther understood the seemingly random anti-Arab actions that had set the city on fire in recent weeks. It was all a covert diversion, misdirection, while Alex hijacked the rest of Schrier’s American information.
“If you’re lying, I’ll have to kill you,” said Luther.
“We’re already dead, all three of us,” said Alex. “Don’t think Kilmer will take any chances with this. Even if he believes you’re really dead, he’ll send men to kill your Mr. Hampton just to be sure that he didn’t see the proof I’ve collected.”
“We already guessed that,” said Luther. “Hampton, look after our friend until I get back.”
“Hey, don’t kill anyone,” said Hampton. He smiled.
“I won’t,” said Luther.
Kilmer Gray sat pensively in his office. He thought only a second before he made several calls and then tapped the keyboard on his desk quietly.
On the world map at E-1 headquarters in Washington, three agents’ gold specks sprouted red lines that shot across the map and settled on Detroit.
Wolves
Luther got back to the house in Ferndale later that night. The garage where Alex had left the information was nestled in a war zone, and it had taken Luther three hours to get it. He’d waited, watching drug deals go down, and then slipped into the structure, found the package, and sneaked off undetected.
Luther found Alex still secure in the chair, Hampton sitting across from him looking pensive and scared. Alex was wide awake and waiting. Luther had not stopped to read the information he’d retrieved. He still didn’t trust Alex fully and didn’t want to open the package outside his presence.
Luther presented the package to Alex, who smiled.
“It’s not booby-trapped,” said Alex.
“Then open it,” said Luther.
Alex struggled against his restraints a little but managed to take off the paper, flip the latch on the box, and open it. He held it back out to Luther.
Luther and Hampton took the box and looked inside. There were original signed papers, memos, and reports. The first one boasted a cover that read:
WELLS COMMITTEE REPORT
ON ENERGY AND RESOURCES:
THE COMING NEW MILLENNIUM CRISIS IN
OVERPOPULATION AND RESULTANT
RESOURCE SHORTAGE
They took their time going over it. It was there, all of it. The report and supplemental material contained everything except how they’d done it. That had to be part of the American information.
Hampton used his computer to decipher the code left by Dr. Schrier.
“It’s authentic, Luther,” said Hampton. “It’s an old E-1 code, a polynumeric brainchild. Jesus, it’s all true.”
Luther moved over to Alex and removed his restraints. He then took a few steps back as Alex got to his feet.
“I’ll be needing my weapons,” said Alex. He gazed at Luther inscrutably.
Luther gave Alex back his weapons and waited a tense moment as Alex put them away.
“We have to go,” said Hampton. “The cleanup team will be stopping here first.”
“For the last time,” said Alex, “Kilmer knows about all of this, so he won’t send a cleanup crew. He’ll send a death squad to eliminate you and cover his mess.”
“He’s right,” said Luther. “The only way for us to save the agency and our lives is to find the rest of this information.”
“Perhaps in your case,” said Alex.
“The agency doesn’t know what we know, so for now we have the upper hand,” said Hampton.
Luther took out his Ion and opened it. With a precision tool kit, he removed a GPS tracking device that was installed in his phone. Hampton did the same for the goodie box and all the other equipment and removed any devices used by E-1 to locate an agent.
“I did the same thing to my equipment,” said Alex. “Great minds think alike, huh?”
Luther, Alex, and Hampton left the house, got into the Ford, and drove away. Lut
her didn’t need Alex to tell him to head for the inner city. It was the only place they would be safe from the kill team—that is, until the team figured it out. Then it would be a race to see whether the kill team could get to Luther and Alex before they secured Dr. Schrier’s domestic information.
“Oh, man,” said Hampton, “we’re all wolves.”
Alex howled like a wolf and laughed. Luther couldn’t help but smile.
“So how have you been?” asked Alex, sounding downright normal. “We’ve been out of touch since you went off after the cutups.”
“Cutups?” asked Hampton.
“Terrorists,” said Luther. The thought of having a normal conversation with Alex, like two old friends, under the current circumstances, was a little unsettling. Did Alex just expect him to pick up where they’d left off in their relationship? Come on, old pal, forget about the murders, the attempts on your life, and the conspiracy that could change the world as we know it? How about them Tigers?
“I’ve been busy,” said Luther flatly.
And for the first time he realized that he was angry with Alex. Alex was larger than life, and he’d painted himself into a corner. Surely there were other ways he could have done this. But try as he might, Luther couldn’t see how Alex could have brought forth what he knew without being killed. E-1 had never given him a chance. They’d tried to backwash him in Africa.
“I understand your anger,” said Alex. Then his expression blanked as though he’d flipped a switch inside his head, turned something off. “I can’t say for sure if I’m a hundred percent, mentally,” he said finally.
“That’s an understatement,” said Hampton.
“You’re not qualified to be on this mission,” Alex shot back. “A TWA is a glorified computer, a man without the guts to kill. We’re trained assassins, so I’ll thank you to shut up.”
“I could’ve killed you,” said Hampton.
“But you didn’t. I would have terminated both of you, and Luther would have, too, in the same situation.”
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