by David Archer
“Let's hope so,” Ken said. “We're running out of time on this guy. His assassination plots are set to be triggered within the next few days—we can't let them happen. As far as we know, he has to give the order himself. If he's dead, he can't do that.”
“What about underlings?” Natasha asked. “If he has a deputy, someone he trusts with his administrative control…”
“As far as we know, Chandler doesn't allow anyone to know what he's doing. The only reason we have the information we do is because one of his people has a conscience. He got it to Sam's wife, and don't ask how that came about, and she got it to us.”
Sam, in the back seat, leaned forward so that he was almost between them. “Look, we have to get him. This isn't a game, and it's not a sport, where our team might come out ahead of his team. This is about saving lives, and lots of them. We're not just looking at the lives that might be lost in his absolutely diabolical scheme, but what about the lives that will be lost in the wars that could result? This jackass is trying to set the Muslim world against the Christian world. We're already on the brink of war in that arena; it wouldn't take much more than a firecracker to set it off. That's exactly what Chandler is out to do, because it will bring everything closer to where he wants it to be.”
Ken turned in his seat so that he could look Sam in the eye, and doing so made him wince. He had taken three wounds that went all the way through, and while they apparently didn't do any critical damage, they definitely tore up some muscle tissue. Almost every move he made for a while was going to hurt. “Sam, you don't have to tell us, you're preaching to the choir. We understand exactly what the problem is, what we're up against. Unfortunately, unless you've got a crystal ball stashed away, we don't have any way to identify his location.”
Sam leaned back in his seat, frustration evident in his face and manner. He ran a hand over his face, and then suddenly froze. He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone, but before he dialed he looked into the rearview mirror again at Natasha. “Does Jerusalem have traffic cameras? Video cameras, tied into a network somewhere?”
She looked at him oddly in the mirror for a moment, and then gave a curt nod. “Yes, but it's rather secret. They installed regular traffic cameras on some high risk traffic accident intersections and it raised a public outcry, claiming that the cameras were only designed to increase government revenues from fines. That's why, when they put in the video system, it was kept secret.”
“Where is it run out of? What department?”
“The public safety department, but it's managed from an office in the building securities department, the department that oversees security in publicly accessible government buildings.”
Sam dialed his phone, and waited for a moment as his call went halfway around the world. Indie answered a moment later. “Sam? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, Baby,” he said, “but we need your help. Can you and Herman get into the security network that takes care of public government buildings in Israel? They run it out of the Israeli Department of Public Safety, but it's handled through the office that takes care of building security, because it's a big secret that the government here spies on its citizens.”
Indie hesitated, but only for a second. “We'll try. What are we looking for?”
“There's a little restaurant named Isaac's, it's just off of King George Street. Find it on the map, and then find all of the cameras closest to it. What you're looking for is a very frightened Chandler. He got away, and he's running for his life at the moment. We don't know where he's gone, so I'm hoping you can give us a lead.”
“Okay. I got enough photos of him in this computer to let Herman's facial recognition programming do its job. He can scan a lot faster than I can. It will take us a little time to get into that network, but if there's a way, we'll do it. I'll call you soon as I got something. Love you!”
“Love you more! Call me soon as you can.” He hung up the phone. “That's my wife, and she's probably the most brilliant computer hacker in the world. She wrote a program she calls Herman that seems to be able to get into just about any network, anywhere, and find whatever information we need. US Homeland Security is fully aware of her abilities, so forget about this as soon as I'm done telling you.”
“Forget about what? I never heard a thing. Let's just hope your nonexistent wife and her nonexistent friend can do us some existent good. I'm listening to the chatter from my people, and it's not going very well. They lost him within half a block of the restaurant. Pretty bad, considering he was on foot and running like a maniac.”
“Just because I'm curious,” Ken said, “why the hell is it your people didn't just blow him away when he came running out of there?”
Natasha glanced at him, with a look of disgust in her eyes. “Kenneth, I'm on a short budget! Most of the people I use for surveillance jobs and such are college students and housewives, just people who need to earn a little extra money. They are not agents, and they are not killers.”
Ken shook his head, and rolled his eyes. “No wonder things went to hell in Benghazi,” he muttered. “And to think we used to be the most powerful nation on earth.”
“Yeah, well, that was back when everyone else was more afraid of the Soviet Union's policies than they were of America's. What good is Sherlock Holmes, if he doesn't have Moriarty? Without the constant threat of Soviet communism hanging over the heads of every other nation on earth, none of them seem to feel that they need the great American watchdog, and so your country has lost a lot of respect. Add to this the fact that your last four presidents have weakened you in both foreign policy and your military, and all that greatness has gone down the toilet.”
“Hey!” said Sam. “I'll have you know, that's my country you're talking about! Maybe you're right, and we're not as powerful as we used to be, but I can tell you right now that the United States of America is still the greatest country in the world. Yeah, it may have its problems, but it’s still the best!”
Ken turned his head and looked at Sam. “You still think so? Our country is so messed up that the most evil terrorist ever born has been working right at the head of our national security. Now, he's loose on the world, and you and I are just about all there is that's available to try to stop him. You want to tell me what's so great about that?”
Sam smiled grimly. “Simple,” he said, “it's because in any other country, there wouldn't be the two of us to go after the sonofabitch.”
Ken stared at him for a moment, and then began to laugh. “Dear God, I'm saddled with an optimist. Sam, we may be down to hours left to find and stop this madman. Somehow, the two of us being the ones to do it isn't inspiring an awful lot of confidence.”
“I'll make it even worse,” Natasha said. “For all we know, Chandler may have given the orders to execute his plans even before he left Washington. Killing him may not stop them.”
“She's got a good point,” Sam said. “Maybe we should change our attack, try to take him alive. That way, we can at least try to get enough information out of him to put a stop to whatever is going on there, to whatever is already set into motion.”
“Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Ken said, his hands over his face. “Sam, do you have any clue how hard it's going to be just get close enough to kill him? Now multiply that times fifty, and you're looking at a pretty good picture of our chance of taking him alive.”
Sam sat back in silence as Natasha drove, and when he got quiet, so did they. They rode the rest of the way back to the hotel without speaking, and once Natasha had parked the car the three of them walked in silence into the hotel and the elevator. Ken pushed the button for their floor.
“Three different people in the lobby made sure to watch us get into the elevator,” Sam said.
“Of course,” Natasha said. “Boaz is nothing if not efficient. Those would be his people, sent here to watch you, but not to interfere. Like any good policeman, he simply wants to know what's going on in his jurisdiction. Since I can't tell him
the truth, he's going to try to find out in his own way.”
The elevator opened, and they went to their room. Natasha followed, of course, then went straight to the bar once they got inside. “I need a drink,” she said. “Anyone else?”
Ken raised a hand as he sat on the couch. “Make mine a double of whatever you’re drinking.”
“I don't drink,” Sam said, and both of them stared at him.
Natasha shook her head. “You stay around Harry long enough, you will.”
Sam looked up. “Speaking of Harry, any updates?”
Natasha grinned as she handed a glass to Ken. “Apparently he's in surgery now, and a nurse has told my people there that it's going very well, he's expected to survive with no major complications. You can probably be talking to him in a few hours, if you want.”
Sam shook his head. “I don't want to talk to him. All he'd do is read me the riot act for letting Chandler get away. I'd much rather we have Chandler in custody somewhere by the time I talk to Harry.”
He was still standing, so Sam wandered through the room and checked for any signs that it had been searched. He found a few things that looked slightly out of place, but he couldn't be certain that actually been moved. Everything they had brought with them was innocuous, and the only thing in the room that could connect them to weapons or clandestine activities was the empty salesman's case, the one Natasha had used to bring them their weapons. They hadn't left anything behind that could be incriminating, so he went back out front and sat down beside Ken.
“Both of you need to get some rest,” Natasha said. “Sam, you're lucky enough not to have any holes in your body that God didn't put there, so you should go and get a shower, now. When you're finished, I can help Ken to get a bath, and clean his wounds, change his bandages. Then you should both get some sleep. I'll stay here tonight, so as soon as any word comes in, I'll let you know.”
Sam nodded, and got back up from the couch. “A shower sounds good,” he said. “I won't be long.” He walked into the suite's bedroom and got a change of clothes from his bag, and was singing in the shower a few moments later, his voice carrying all through the suite.
If anybody had told me,
That someone like you,
Could ever love me,
The way that you do,
I'd've said, "You're a liar,
There's just two things I believe,
Only fools play with fire,
And there's no love for me.”
Natasha looked at Ken. “Do you have to put up without all the time?”
“He sings with some band back home,” he said. “I guess singing in the shower is how he rehearses.”
She looked towards the bathroom door, and then shrugged. “Well, he isn't that bad. Beats listening to your snoring.”
When Sam came out of the shower, Natasha helped Ken get to his feet and to the bathroom. She shut the door behind them, so Sam sat down and picked up the remote for the TV. Channel ten was running its news program, so he left it on and watched.
The announcer, a gray-haired man, smiled into the camera as he spoke. “… And the Russian president says that there will be severe implications for the country's relationship with Turkey after this incident.”
Sam watched the program for about fifteen minutes, keeping an eye on the scrolling ticker that rolled along the bottom of the screen. All of the news headlines for the day appeared there, but the only mention of the shootings at the restaurant was a brief comment by the announcer that what appeared to be a random shooting had occurred. He stressed that the government had found no connection to any terrorist activity or group, and that Israel police were investigating.
Sam shook his head, and began flipping channels. He found the government-sponsored channels, as well as those that were designed primarily for tourists, such as the Western Wall channel and others. There were a couple of channels devoted strictly to music, both American and Israeli, and he listened for a few seconds to each of them before moving on.
He found a movie, one he thought he'd seen before but couldn't remember for sure, and just left it on to create some background noise. It gave him the opportunity to tune out for a bit, and relax. After a couple of minutes, he stretched out on the couch, tucking one of its pillows under his head.
With everything that had happened, Sam didn't believe he'd be able to go to sleep, so he was startled when his telephone rang and it woke him from a dream of being at home with Indie and Kenzie. He sat up quickly and grabbed the phone from the end table.
“Hello?”
“Sam? Babe, it's me,” Indie said. “I think I got you something.”
“Baby, that would be great. What is it?”
“Okay,” she said, “if you get on Hebron Road, and go south a few miles, you'll come to Asher Viner Street, going off to the east. It's like an exit there, take it and follow the road to the east about a mile, you'll pass a bunch of fields on the right, like farm fields. That will bring you to a circle, take it out to the Northeast, and you'll come to another one in like a quarter mile or so. If you turn right there, you'll be on Moshe Barazani Street. He turned in at the third drive on the right about an hour ago, and went inside. As far as I can tell, he hasn't come back out.”
Sam smiled and the phone. “Baby, how on earth did you manage this?”
“Well, like I told you, I had enough pictures of him that Herman could start a facial recognition search. It paid off, because he spotted Chandler on foot by King George Street, but I guess he had called someone because a moment after that, the camera got him getting into a car. Herman just kept scanning, though, and kept spotting his face at different intersections. By scanning all of the cameras along a particular route, he could keep looking for him and get an idea of where he might turn up next. When he turned off onto Moshe whatever street, it just happened that the camera could see the house where he parked. We saw them get out of the car and go in, and I've been watching that camera, but he doesn't seem to have come back out. Of course, I can't see the back of the house, so I can't be sure he's still there.”
“Indie, baby, you're as awesome and wonderful as ever,” Sam said, “and I'm even starting to like Herman a little bit. This is incredible, and might be exactly what we needed. If you see anything change, please let me know immediately. I love you!”
“I love you, too. I'll call you if anything changes at all.” She hung up, and Sam looked at the time. It was almost midnight, but he didn't feel that they could wait until morning. He called out for Ken, and he and Natasha came out of the bedroom a moment later.
He quickly filled them in on Indie's call, and Natasha shook her head. “And how is it we haven't already recruited this girl?”
“Sam beat us to it, he married her,” Ken said. “Seems that she's part of the package deal we get when Harry calls on Sam, though, so that helps. She's definitely a whiz at this stuff, I've seen a bit of her in action before.”
“Fine, okay, whatever,” Natasha said. “Just as long as she's on our side, that's all I care about at this moment.” She had reached into her big purse and produced a tablet computer, on which she was calling up a map of the area Indie had described. “The third driveway,” she mused. “Oh, this is not good. That is the home of an attaché from the Libyan Embassy. I know her, and frankly, it would surprise me if she were knowingly involved in any of Chandler's plans. She's not a militant, not in any way.”
Ken scowled. “Are you saying that this woman has diplomatic immunity? That we'd be invading Libyan soil if we go in there after him?”
Natasha was nodding her head. “That's exactly what I'm saying,” she said. “As far as any government is concerned, that house is in Libya. Any entry that is uninvited can be construed as an act of war.”
“Well, you said you know her. Can you get us an invitation?” Sam asked. “I mean, as far as we know, Chandler doesn't know you're involved, right?”
Natasha gave him a look that could have peeled paint off his Corvette. “And I
'd very much like to keep it that way,” she said. “I'm off the reservation on this, working only as a favor to Harry Winslow. If my superiors find out what I'm doing, it could mean my job, possibly even my freedom.”
“Natasha, come on,” Ken said. “When have you ever worried about what your superiors might think? And as for your job or your freedom, you know too many secrets for anyone to seriously pose a risk to either one. Now, can you get us in there, or not?”
“To be honest, I would doubt it. If she's involved, she's going to probably refuse, and at the very least she would let him know that someone was coming. Even if we got in, he'd be ready for us, and then there's that whole war on foreign soil thing.”
Sam shook his head. “I don't care,” he said. “We have got to capture this guy, and find out somehow whether he's got his plans already set in motion, or if he's got someone ready to give the orders. We have to stop the things he's up to, no matter what it takes.”
2
“You cannot stay here,” Yusrah said. “If what you say is true, then your own countrymen are trying to kill you. I cannot risk involving the embassy or any of my family or staff, here, in your troubles. You have to go, now.”
“Yusrah, don't even think about trying to turn your back on me now,” Chandler said to her. “You owe me far too much, and I will collect on that debt. Remember that you would not have your position, were it not for me. I can remove you just as quickly as I installed you, and before you consider any plan to eliminate me, remember that I have people who know where I am even now. Should anything happen to me, their orders are to make certain that retaliation finds its way back to you. Any questions?”
“Mr. Chandler, this is not about failure to pay my debt. It is about keeping what is between us in the secret level where it must remain. In that, I have no choice, for if it becomes too widely known, then we will both be endangered.” The attaché seemed to think over her options. “It is also not about whether I fear you or not. I will do all I can to help you, as I have agreed, but I can be no help to you if I am exposed and removed from my place.”