by Gabby Grant
“Good God,” he said, punching the disconnect button. “There’s been a fault in one of our camera tapes. Something’s gone the hell awry downstairs!”
“Jason,” he commanded fiercely, “Code red. Get an armed team down to the basement- now!”
But, by the time a winded Albert Kane sprinted down six flights of stairs and burst into the parking garage, weapon drawn, the place was quiet as a tomb.
CHAPTER 5
Mark kissed Isa one last time and rethanked Major Walker.
“Carolyn...” he said, with a shaky smile.
“Go, sir!” she said, pressing him toward the door. “With the security system, this place is like Fort Knox.”
“If you don’t hear from me-”
“Not going to consider that, sir. If I don’t hear from you, it means you’re working on getting things under control. I know you, sir. You’re the best. The best of the best.”
Mark only wished he had so much confidence. He took another look at the baby, her head drooping dreamily against Maria’s shoulder. The sitter’s eyes were wide with fear, but she forced a brave smile. “No te preocupas, senor... Dios te bendiga.”
“God bless you too, Maria. All of you,” he said with a parting glance around the room. “I’ll be back, Carolyn,” he said to Major Walker. “Hell or high water, I’ll be back.”
“Yes sir,” Carolyn said, the cool mist in her eye defeating her hard stare. “We’re going to count on it.”
***
Ana turned toward Sun-tzu as the car sped onto the highway, puzzling at the man. Puzzling at the name that struck a chord somewhere in a distant region of her brain.
Sun-tzu said something in rapid Chinese to the man behind the wheel. And the other, Hay Long, smiled into the rearview mirror in return.
“This is ridiculous,” Ana said to the two of them. “You know you’ll be found out.”
Sun-tzu turned his dangerously expressionless face toward hers. “There are many people, Miss Kane. Many, many people who’d like to see you alive.”
And Ana was betting that an even higher number wanted Sun-tzu dead.
“You have nothing to fear from us.” A slow, insidious smile worked its way across the Oriental’s face. “We only deliver the package.”
Ana thought suddenly of Isabel and cold fear gripped her heart. “I’m sure if there’s a message to deliver, you and I could work something out, Sun-tzu.”
“Don’t--” the old man said, grabbing her furiously by the hair. He lifted the pistol that had been resting lazily on his knee with his right hand and swung it in her direction. “...you ever address me by that name! Is that quite clear?”
“Quite,” Ana said with a grimace. “But, I’m still very flexible-”
“Silence!” Sun-tzu pressed the pistol to her temple. “I’m the one to decide how flexible you are, Miss Kane. Me and only me.”
The man behind the front wheel belly hooted.
“If it’s information you want-” Ana began, clenching her teeth against their impending chatter.
Sun-tzu drew back the pistol with a snort. “Save it for the jury, Ana.” An eerie stillness settled in his eyes and their sudden vacancy of emotion became even more terrifying than his words. “Judgement’s at dawn.”
CHAPTER 6
Mark brought the tip of his index finger to the video display monitor. “There. Hang on a minute, Bill,” he said to Bill Rush, Chief of DOS Building Security. “Go back a frame.”
Bill flipped the switch and leaned forward, apparently trying to make out what Mark had seen.
“What’s that right there? In the edge of the frame?”
Bill, who always looked one day short of a shave, scratched his stubbly chin. “Looks like the end of a car. Car trunk, sir.”
“Yes, dammit.” Mark scooted in his chair and grabbed the controls from Bill, flipping back another frame, then another.
“Watch this,” Mark said, pointing to the time display at the bottom of the screen. Sixteen-twenty-two, thirty-five, no car.” He hit the forward button. “Sixteen-twenty-two, thirty-six...”
“There it is, sir!” Bill said, in amazement. “Absolutely. Tail end of some sort of vehicle, sedan maybe.”
“And tell me, Bill. As far as you know, has anyone come up with a car that can fire its engine and disappear in one second flat?”
“Not even the Japanese, sir.”
“Nor the Germans,” Mark said, standing. “I want this whole tape sent to the lab. Enlarge every frame in the vicinity of this one. Pronto.”
“Got it,” Bill said, getting to his feet.
“Any idea how in the hell the tape could have behaved that way?”
“None whatsoever, sir. Like you said, it’s theoretically impossible.”
Yes, Mark thought, getting together his papers and preparing to leave the room. But there was one hell of a lot of difference between practice and theory. And Mark had the theory somebody’s practice had pulled a fast one.
***
Ryan Gitchell held up the black and white negative with a long tweezer-like instrument. “It’s a Mercedes alright, one of the newer models. Should be able to get an exact make based on our photographic paint scan within the hour.”
But, within the hour would be too late. If they were smart enough to rig the camera system, they weren’t dumb enough to stay in the same vehicle for any period of time.
“How about the timing glitch?” Mark asked.
“Easy, sir. Somebody froze the visual frame on the camera while getting the clock to appear to keep on ticking. This frame,” he said, pointing to the one sequential to the one in which the car appeared “is essentially a reflection of an earlier moment. Anything that went on from this period forward in that corner of the garage is basically not on camera.”
“And this happened at the DOS?!” Mark asked, unable to keep his voice from rising to a threatening timbre. Mark had the overwhelming urge to grab somebody’s head and slam it into the wall. But it wasn’t Ryan he was after, he reminded himself. Ryan was one of the good guys and not-so-incidentally in a position to help him.
Gitchell shook his head. “This took some pretty sophisticated maneuvering. Not the camera job itself. That’s pretty much an old smoke and mirrors trick. But finding a way to get into the DOS system...”
Just like somebody had found a way to break through that information system firewall, Mark caught himself thinking.
“How could that be done, Ryan? Gaining access to the camera system?”
“Well, from the inside, sir-”
“From the outside.”
Gitchell choked out a laugh and shook his head. “No way, sir. Absolutely no way. We’re drawn up as tight as a clam shell in here.”
Yeah right, Mark thought, as he studied the trunk of the car in the frame, and somebody out there- somebody who had Ana- knew all about the pearls on the inside.
***
Al Fahd slid the long yellow envelope across his desk. “Your first exam, Mr. Smith,” he said, as Joe lifted the envelope and unbent its clasp.
“I’m your most promising student.” Joe smiled as he craftily cracked the envelope and withdrew its contents. He gave the enlarged map area of Central Virginia and some typed out road directions a cursory scan. “Is this my big test?”
Al Fahd grinned and drummed his fingers against the desk. “Your big test is yet to come. Prove yourself first with this little assignment. Then maybe we’ll make party plans.”
Joe’s eye caught the name at the bottom of the file and his stomach plummeted. “Not much happening in Virginia, Al Hakeem. Perhaps there is another-”
Al Fahd brought a booming fist down on his desk. “You will not second-guess the master, Mr. Smith! Is that clear?!”
Joe froze as the mustard brown face went deadly calm. “Crystal.”
Joe thumbed through the papers but found nothing more. This operation was far too important to US security to risk any slip-ups. More than anything, especially now that Joe w
as getting close, he had to ensure his place in Al Fahd’s kingdom. No matter what that took.
“What is it you want me to do?” Joe asked, curving his lips beneath his heavy moustache.
CHAPTER 7
Albert Kane stood at the window of his thirteenth floor apartment and studied the glistening oil-black waters dissected by the gleaming lights of the Key Bridge. He took another belt of bourbon, weighing his options. Goddamn didn’t have any. He swallowed the last of his drink and shuddered at the deja vu.
Three years ago he’d been in a similar position.
Three years ago Mark Neal had not let him down.
Three years ago, he’d had a wife and the promise of a new beginning.
Now he had nothing but the predawn Potomac and a heavy heart that told him he’d always been wrong. Wrong to involve the family. Wrong to let Ana have her way and join the DOS. Wrong to condone Ana’s marriage to somebody else in this God-forsaken business.
His older daughter, Emalita, had married an oil executive and recently relocated to the Middle East taking along Albert’s three other grandchildren. Albert knew he couldn’t call Emi about the current problem. She’d had a hard enough time forgiving him the first time. But finally, as a result of Mark and Ana’s intervention, Emi had grudgingly let Albert back into her life.
Emi was different from Ana, had been from the beginning. Emi was a loving mother and a good one, and in that and that alone felt extremely fulfilled. Albert supposed Emi was following in her mother’s footsteps.
Ana, on the other hand, had always been more like her father. And worked mightily to deny it. She’d been a damn fine analyst and would make an even better operative, if she ever gave herself the freedom to try it. But Ana felt hemmed in these days. Albert could see it. Whether it was Mark or the barriers Ana had erected in her own head, Albert didn’t know. But, whatever the problem, Ana clearly wasn’t happy with the state of her life. And that was before... Before this God-forsaken mess Ana had somehow gotten herself into.
Albert thumped a hard hand against the tightness in his chest, knowing that was a lie. Any trouble Ana had gotten herself into had come as a direct result of her being the daughter of one DOS Assistant Director Albert Kane.
The timing of this fiasco couldn’t have been more disastrous. For the first time in years, Ana had come to him- to Albert, first- when she was in need of assistance. And foolishly, Albert had thanked God he’d been able to play the benevolent patriarch and grant her wish.
Albert turned a weary eye to the kitchen clock and the too-still telephone, as if watching the pot would make it boil. But it was Albert who was boiling instead. Fuming inside for the never-ending angst he’d caused his family. All the far-flung consequence of his decision to join the DOS more than fifty years ago. A decision that, in fact, had not been Albert’s choice at all. But rather a lifestyle foisted upon him by the over-zealous US Government. And, once he’d gotten in, it had been impossible to get out. But what they’d never told him was that they’d want his daughter, too.
Albert set down his glass with a thunk. Ana Kane was not, never had been- and would not- be a part of the deal.
And now, here Albert stood with tethered hands. Unable to make one sure move until they’d received some word from the kidnappers. Of course, they had people on it. No matter what god damned thing happened in the free world, the DOS had people on it. But that knowledge granted Albert little reassurance.
Mark had insisted he go home. Get some sleep, for God’s sake. Like Albert was some rabid, old dog about to be put down. Well, Albert was rabid all right. He was pissing mad. But he was not about to be put down.
Albert strode purposefully to the bedroom where he withdrew his loaded pistol from the drawer in his night stand. It had been three years, he thought, pulling back out the cylinder and checking the load. The weapon snapped shut and settled comfortably in his hand. Three goddamned years since he’d had occasion to make some kind of difference. And- this time- Albert Kane was going to see to it personally that somebody paid.
***
Ana sat in a cold sweat beside the graying Oriental whose predilection seemed to be holding a pistol to her head. He was known by the other as Sun-tzu, but had been adamant Ana not call him that. Was it out of deference or something more?
“How are things at the DOS?” he asked, with a twisted smile.
Ana tossed a sideways glance out the window trying to see where they were going, but nothing was visible through the tinted glass but pitch-black night. “I have no idea.”
“Hmm,” the old man adjusted the pressure of the pistol barrel against her temple. “No idea about that, but plenty ideas about my name, no?”
“All I did,” Ana said, stiffening against her fear, “was address you by the name he called you.” She jutted her chin toward the front seat, from which Hay Long looked back with a wicked smile. “I’ll be happy to address you by another name, if you’ll be kind enough to provide it.”
“Very slick, Ms. Kane,” the other answered. “But I think not.”
“You’re a student, are you not?” the old man asked. “A student of all things political-military?”
Ana shifted, interpreting his question as a referral to her recent stint as an analyst.
“I’m out of school now,” she said, hoping somehow that would save her. Knowing still, what a ridiculous long-shot that notion was.
Sun-tzu laughed and gave her a mirthless smile. “Christmas break? I see.”
“Where are you taking me?” Ana asked.
“Somewhere safe.” From the driver’s seat Hay Long bellowed a riotous laugh. “Does that please you?” Sun-tzu continued.
“It would please me,” Ana said attempting to turn her head away. “If the two of you’d let me go.”
Sun-tzu studied her in silence then pulled back his weapon. “Fine,” he said. “We shall let you go.”
Ana turned to him in incredulity.
“How much farther, Hay Long?” he asked the man in the front.
Hay Long smiled in his rear view mirror, his eerie eyes drawing into slits. “Six kilometers.”
***
Joe McFadden waited in the shadows of the tiny Orange County, Virginia town. In a distant field cows bawled, threading rustling leaves with low, mournful cries. Though it was late December, the long Indian summer had caused some of the more stubborn Virginia foilage to hang on. It taunted him now...scraped fear down his spine with imprecise cadence, as winds whipped and hollered, twisting the shedding limbs of a nearby tree.
Joe patted his coat and rechecked the weapon strapped to his chest.
Five minutes, he thought, scanning the luminescent numbers on his watch.
Five minutes until package delivery.
Joe tried to relax his shoulder against the cold stone wall that lined the alley, but every inch of his being tensed.
It had been over two years since he’d seen Ana Kane.
Two years and eight months exactly.
There’d been that last time together. That last time in Costa Negra, when Ana had looked at him with those soulful eyes and told him it could never work between them.
Joe had never seen it coming. Never in a million years would have been fool enough to fall in love with such a headstrong woman. But the more he’d known her, the more impossible it had become not to want to know more of her. Then, when it had become a matter of life and death...
Joe startled at the sound of a car engine. He peered around the corner at the black Audi’s approach, his mouth going cottony dry.
Then, there’d been that other time. That time four months later, after Ana had closed out her project office and dismissed him from her life, when Joe had bumped into Ana and Neal on Capitol Hill.
Joe’s gut twisted as the car halted at the curb and its back door swung open. A slight dark-haired woman was forced from the car, a pistol most likely pressed into her back.
Joe McFadden stepped from the shadows and leveled his weapon at Ana Kane.<
br />
“One word,” he said, “one fucking word, sweetheart, and I blow your goddamn head off!”
***
Mark hung up the phone and spun Albert’s desk chair away from the window. It was too much to look at. The glory and splendor of Washington, DC, the illuminated ivory of the Capitol dome, the far-away Washington monument cutting a swath through the coal black sky.
There was nothing shitting honorable about this town.
Nothing whatsoever, Mark thought, kicking his feet up on the desk.
At least Isabel was okay. Major Walker had seen to it that Maria and Isabel were made comfortable in the DIPAC’s underground quarters. It was supposed to be a secret they were there. The fact that a supposed Army acquisitions processing center had an entire suite of bedrooms and fully stocked kitchens in its basement would raise plenty of eyebrows. And not just in Central Virginia.
It was necessary to have the provision to make room for round-the-clock operations, should those become necessary. And the only way to ensure that could happen was to provide a place where the analysts and computer specialists could eat, sleep, then be roused for another shift.
As it stood, DIPAC’s temporary-housing quarters had never been pressed into use. Mark was grateful now that such a place existed. The rest of the world could go on about its business while Major Walker spirited diapers and baby supplies into the DIPAC under the upper-level clearance of DOS Assistant Director Albert Kane. No questions asked.
But, Ana...
Mark shifted his legs, his feet dropping heavily to the floor.
This was not supposed to be happening, dammit. Not now. There was some kind of rule against double jeopardy. Once in a lifetime was enough for anybody. It was certainly enough for him. And clearly would be for Ana.
The timing could not have been worse. There were all kinds of tensions between them. Mark loved Ana, loved her with a passion greater than life. But, in these past several months, he’d dropped the ball. He’d failed to let her know it. The press of work had been tight. Each day revealed a new screw up. Mark’s team was fucking falling apart at a time when he needed them most desperately to hang together.