by Rob Carnell
Matt yelled "Let me help her!"
The Leopard just laughed loudly.
Matt rolled over pulling out the Yarygin that he had managed to locate and shot the second man in the face. The white robed man fell on top of Matt and he was immediately shot again by The Leopard as he aimed at Matt.
Matt lashed out with his leg in a classic side kick. It was hard to get a lot of grunt behind it because of the dead weight on top of him. Regardless, it caught The Leopard right on the kneecap and he went down hard. As he hit the floor he squeezed off a shot which hit Matt in the shoulder before the gun caromed out of his reach.
Matt did not even realize he was hit. His training had always taught him not to get mad, and to stay in the mushin state of no mind, where things needed to happen unconsciously. But he just couldn’t do it. He rolled out from under the dead weight and kept rolling until he was beside The Leopard who had just fallen. Matt drew back his elbow and let go with a series of vicious strikes to the Leopard’s throat which smashed his carotid cartilage. This immediately filled with blood and securely sealed off the Leopard’s airway.
The man grabbed at his throat and tried to suck air. The only thing that could have kept the man alive was an emergency tracheotomy. This was the surgical procedure of making an incision on the front of the throat and inserting a tube to allow air to enter.
During Matt’s karate training he researched how to do the procedure and always carried a small knife and the plastic cylinder from a pen in the bag with his karate suit.
Unluckily for the Leopard, Matt was not carrying a knife and a pen. In truth, even if he had the tools with him, he was not sure if he would have helped out.
A gurgle was all that Matt heard as The Leopard drowned in his own blood.
Matt sprung to his feet ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He stood behind Natasha and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled in tight expelling the air from her lungs and triggering the diaphragm to release. When he let go and pulled Natasha’s arms back, fresh air flowed into her and in a couple of breaths her lips returned to pink.
She grabbed at the white robe from around the still thrashing Leopard and draped it around Matt to hide the blood from his wounded shoulder.
Natasha grabbed the computer bag and propelled Mat toward the elevator. The time for stealth was long gone and they now both had guns in their hands.
Natasha pushed the up button on the elevator and they rode to the roof where they waited for a couple of minutes before riding back to the ground floor. By then there was pandemonium in the lobby. There were alarms blaring and people were running around everywhere. Appearing nonchalant, Matt and Natasha slowly made their way across the lobby into a taxi and headed into town.
It was good tradecraft to always carry names of medical staff that could be trusted, and Natasha handed the driver the business card of a medical center that was well remunerated to help the Russian cause.
Natasha noticed Matt was very pale and she felt the pulse under his chin. It was racing. He was falling into shock and needed immediate treatment.
The taxi dropped them at the surgery fifteen minutes later. Natasha helped Matt out of the taxi trying not to be noticed by the taxi driver. He seemed more interested in counting the riyals that Natasha had passed over.
She pounded on the doctor’s door.
"Who is it?" asked Dr al-Din.
Natasha responded with the code phrase "Bullwinkle" and the sliding door slid open silently.
Chapter 89
Medical Surgery
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
* * *
MATT WAS quickly falling into shock. He had never even broken a bone before, so the gunshot sent his system into meltdown.
Dr. al-Din seemed to be most competent. He quickly did triage to determine any other life threatening injuries before returning to the gunshot. He had trouble getting a good pulse from Matt’s wrist, but quickly found a carotid pulse and felt seventeen beats in ten seconds. These were classic signs of shock.
The doctor pulled Matt over the end of the table so his head was lower, then he placed a pillow under Matt’s legs. This would increase blood flow to the brain. Next he inserted a drip to keep up fluids and gave Matt an antibiotic injection in case of infection.
After closer inspection, Matt was very lucky. The bullet had gone all the way through, ripping muscle, but missing bone.
Dr. al-Din then swabbed and probed the wound before stitching both entry and exit wounds. Matt would have a scar to talk about for years to come, but he would be ok physically. The doctor was not too sure about mentally. That was usually a fifty/fifty proposition after a gunshot wound.
"He will feel much better in the morning, but he cannot be moved right now" explained the doctor.
Natasha made a telephone call to the Russian Embassy and she was told to sit tight and wait for two heavily armed agents to arrive.
Natasha made a small cough and was visibly in pain.
"Let me take a look at you now" suggested the doctor.
He felt carefully around the sides of Natasha’s chest and determined that she had a couple of cracked ribs. Everything else checked out ok.
"There is not a lot I can do for your ribs. They will be very sore for a couple of weeks, but there should be no permanent damage.
"You are welcome to stay here tonight, but please be gone before my first patient is due at 9am in the morning" said the doctor, not wanting to ask any further questions. "Good luck" he said and padded back upstairs to his private residence.
Twenty minutes later there was a quiet knock on the door and Natasha admitted the Russian minders. Natasha grabbed some sleep on the couch while the guards stayed wide awake all night.
The next morning the guards carried Matt to their van and they were driven to the Russian embassy.
Initially Matt was setup in the small medical wing, but later in the day when his vital signs were back on track, he was moved to a small comfortable bedroom with its own self-contained bathroom.
When Matt opened his eyes at 7pm, Natasha was beside his bed.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
"Am I ok?" asked Matt.
Natasha pressed her index finger to her lips so Matt realized that the room was bugged. Matt nodded.
"The gunshot wound in your shoulder has been stitched. The bullet went straight through without doing too much damage. You were in shock, but you will be fine in a day or two. But, I think you will be typing one handed for a while. How does the shoulder feel?"
"There is no pain, but I can feel it tingling and cold. I feel drugged."
"I know the doctor hit you with some pretty strong painkillers. There are some more in the bottle on the table beside your bed. Help yourself if you need them during the night."
"Matt, you really should get some sleep, you still look terrible."
"I have work to do" said Matt, but his eyelids fluttered and he fell back to sleep.
Chapter 90
Embassy of the Russian Federation
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
* * *
MATT WAS feeling much better when he awoke the next day. He even got up to go to the bathroom.
He thought he would try and find something to eat, but he found the door to his room was securely locked.
He pounded on the door angrily until Natasha came to rescue him.
"Sorry Matt" said Natasha as she opened the door "visitors are not allowed unescorted in the embassy."
"That is ridiculous!" said Matt angrily.
"Relax. Tell me, would I be allowed to wander around CIA headquarters by myself?"
"I guess not" said Matt starting to cool down "I suppose I can live with that. I feel much better this morning, I need to get on my PC and check those transactions from The Caliph."
"Ok, your PC is under your bed. Do you want something to eat?"
"Can I get bacon and eggs?" asked Matt with a smile, "even better if you cook them!"
"I will see wha
t I can find" replied Natasha with a smile.
Matt grabbed his PC and went through the audit file they had downloaded the previous day.
Numbers don’t lie.
Matt was having trouble typing only with his left hand. It was slow work, but he finally found the exact transaction that The Leopard had told Natasha about during his interrogation. It was a transfer of fifty million dollars to a Swiss bank account.
The only other large transaction was five million dollars to a company in North Korea. Both these entries had KP in the comments field. There was also one other transaction that had the KP comment. It was to a corporation called Interneta in Iran. This transfer was also for five million dollars, a hell of a lot.
Natasha arrived back with the breakfast. She held her finger to her lips to again remind Matt that the room was bugged.
Matt nodded, and whispered, "Bingo, I found the transfer for the nukes, as well as another transfer to a North Korean company. I am not sure why, but they both have a code in the comments field of KP. The really strange thing is that there are only three transfers with the KP tag. The payment for the nukes, the boat transfer in North Korea, and another payment to a company called Interneta in Iran."
"What is the Interneta thing?" asked Natasha.
"I can’t find anything at all on them. Internet is not a big deal in Iran. My guess is it is a dummy corporation."
"Ok, keep working on it. I need to do some emails, I will be back in half an hour," said Natasha "sorry but I really do have to lock the door."
"Ok no problem" said Matt.
Matt sent an instant message to Bill Simpson at Langley:
Matt: Sorry I missed my check-in. I was shot in the shoulder, am recuperating at Russian Embassy in Riyadh.
Bill: I know what happened. I got a call from Oleg to explain. Are you ok?
Matt: I will be fine. I have been checking the records from the hotel. I found large financial transfers to both Russia and North Korea. There was another suspicious transaction to a company called Interneta in Tehran.
Fifteen minutes later Matt received a reply:
Simpson: Have a nice trip to Iran.
Chapter 91
Entering U.S. Territorial Waters
Aboard Surprise, 3.47pm
* * *
THE SHIPYARD in North Korea had done a truly remarkable job on the transformation.
Surprise now looked like a completely different boat to the casual observer. The change in rigging from a two masted ketch to a single masted sloop was perhaps the most obvious change. But as this was such an important mission Kamal felt that he could not be too careful, and he wanted to avoid other craft if at all possible.
Not at all obvious were the electronics that were added at Kamal’s specific request.
There was a radar system attached on the top spreader of the mast. Also an autopilot was connected to a state of the art Global Positioning System navigation unit.
Kamal was quite bored during his long voyage and he spent a lot of time refining the operation of the electronics.
He was finally able to connect the radar to the autopilot. If the radar detected another vessel the boat would automatically make small changes of course to keep away from the other craft.
With these refinements to the craft, Kamal was able to sleep soundly when the need arose. He did not have a formal sleep pattern, and he sometimes chose to sleep during the day rather than at night.
Surprise was making good headway. Sails were rigged on a beam reach, but the seas were quite choppy with a swell of around four feet. This was the same for two days now, and Kamal just had to sleep. He kept dozing without the deep sleep he craved. Perhaps it was his interest in the old U-140 german submarine log book that pushed sleep to the background, so he just lay in his bunk trying to understand the book.
Eventually, he fell asleep with the book on his chest. He was in his third hour of deep slumber. The boat came down off a wave, but this time there was a loud clunk, and the boat stopped dead in the water and spun sideways.
Kamal fell from his bunk onto the floor such was the impact, the book tossed aside. He hit his head on the bulkhead on the way down and blacked out. He woke up dazed from the fall, but managed to get up and make his way topsides.
Kamal looked over the side railing. The boat was now beating against the side of a partially submerged shipping container.
These containers sometimes fall from container ships in rough seas. They are of course quite heavy, but the air trapped inside ensures they float, often just below the surface of the sea and remain a hazard to other vessels.
Kamal immediately dropped the sails and the engine fired at the first press of the starter. He backed away and around the large dark shape that bobbed up and down in the water.
His first concern was to see if the boat was taking on water. There was a float switch operated electric bilge pump that was designed to pump out any water that leaked into the hull below decks. Kamal pulled up one of the removable sections of the flooring for a visual check, there was a little water, but that was not uncommon as some water always seeped in around the seals on the propeller shaft.
The adrenalin was coursing through his veins to the extent that any further sleep was impossible. Kamal put just the main sail back up and resumed his course, steering manually for the rest of the night. Every couple of hours he checked again for leaks, but all looked ok. Skies were clear, but the wind was still blowing hard.
Early the next morning the wind dropped. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly. There was hardly any noise at all as the boat slowed almost to a stop in the water.
Kamal heard an electrical whine and wondered what it was until he heard the telltale splash of water from the side of the boat as the electric bilge pump automatically emptied the water from the hull. Kamal nearly kicked himself as he realized that the pump had been working as expected and that was why there was little water in the hull when he checked previously. With the strong winds, he had not been able to hear the intermittent purr of the pump.
Kamal dropped the sail, held onto the safety rail and tried to see if there was any visible damage to the hull. Some paint had been scuffed from the side, but the main impact would have been under the centre of the boat near the keel.
There was a diving facemask in the locker below and Kamal now removed his clothes, donned the mask and tied a long rope around the mast with the other end tied around his waist. Then he lowered himself over the side to take a look.
Kamal was grateful for the decision to paint the hull a dark color, as the damage was evident at first glance. There was a huge gouge and the white gel coat was showing through. The main damage seemed to be where the line of the keel dropped from the rest of the hull. This was the start of the point where the keel was filled solid with lead and resin so it was probably the strongest point on the vessel. At closer inspection, there did seem to be a small crack in the hull at this point.
There was no possibility of slipping the boat for repairs, so Kamal pulled himself back aboard to consider his limited options.
He could cancel his operation and return to North Korea for repairs, or he could continue. Really this was not much of a choice at all so Kamal decided to move forward.
To reduce the possibility of further damage, he decided to reef sails when the wind was strong. In effect, this reduced the sail area and slowed the boat, reduced the battering received from the waves. He keep checking that the small electric pump was coping with the water seeping in and all seemed in order. There was also a manual bilge pump that he could use as a last resort.
Later that day Kamal logged on to the internet via his satellite modem. He received an email from an anonymous hotmail account. It read:
The birthday party is coming up soon. Be ready in 6 days.
Kamal’s timeframe had always been uncertain. He had a contact on the inside that would let him know when the time was right.
Kamal went below deck and pulled some ch
arts onto the table. He measured some distances off the chart and found he was early. He had a couple more days to get in position.
He programmed some additional waypoints into the GPS. This changed his approach a little moving further south before changing course for the Californian coast. Hopefully this would further mask his port of origin particularly from any prying satellites that may be searching for a small boat on the way from North Korea.
Chapter 92
Mehrabad International Airport
Tehran, Iran
* * *
AT LEAST this was a short flight. Matt and Natasha were starting to get sick of airline food.
Once again they were using the Exxon cover that had served them well in Russia. There was a constant stream of oil executives jockeying for position in Iran, so they did not expect that their presence would arouse undue suspicion.
In fact, at the airport they were almost treated like royalty. It seemed the Exxon documents opened all doors in a country that lived on oil.
Bill Simpson had organized for a driver called Tommy to be at their disposal, he was waiting for them after customs. Tommy was an American of Persian ancestry and was of course a CIA operative.
"Hello Miss Laurence and Mr. Harrison. Welcome to Iran. My name is Tommy, I will be looking after you" said the strangely dressed little man with a super strong accent. He was wearing a suit on the hottest day Matt had ever experienced.
Tommy noticed Matt was wearing his arm in a sling "What happened to your arm?"
"Too much to drink, I tripped and fell over" explained Matt.
"Ok Tommy, lead away" said Natasha as Tommy took them to his old Mercedes car that may once have been white.
"How did my accent sound?" asked Tommy when they pulled away from the curbside. This time he sounded like he came from Queens.