by James Ward
In the foyer, she shouted to Henri finding him cowering under his counter. She ran right by him out into the street. She held the SIG high with two hands out in front of her body, ready to shoot again if necessary.
Brandt and his companion were no where to be seen. The man she had shot lay in a heap, blood gushing from his head. She knelt to feel for a pulse. He was dead. Further down the block a car suddenly sprang from the side of the street and sped away. She decided not to fire after it since Brandt was obviously a passenger.
Trying to make sense of what had just happened Marya suddenly realized the scene the gendarmerie would find. They would find a murdered man and the murderess. They would find Henri, perhaps an eye witness or perhaps an ear witness but nevertheless a witness. Panicky, she ran back up the stairs, dressed, hastily packed her stuff and fled out the back of the building to fade into the Paris night.
In the speeding car, Pullin called to Brandt, “Hang on, son. For God’s sake don’t leave me.” Tears ran down his face as he realized Brandt was dying.
Brandt mustered speech in a small distant sounding voice. “We got the real piece, didn’t we?”
Pullin didn’t know. He needed to put miles between them and Rue Des Chappelets before he would feel comfortable searching Ahmed’s suitcase for The Hand. Knowing in his heart that Brandt was not going to make it, he replied with tears in his eyes, “Yes, son. We got the real piece this time.”
CHAPTER 49
Marya Lukianov walked as calmly as possible a block away from the crime scene. Suitcase in hand, she paused at a street corner to study the street names. She would need to walk towards the Place de l’Opera. She spotted a taxi and hailed it. The driver pulled to the curb. She directed him to Rue Danou, number five. Her destination was a place called Harry’s New York Bar.
On the way, she called a number on her cell phone. A pleasant voice answered, “The Embassy of Canada is closed for the day. Please stay on the line for the night operator.”
“Night operator,” came another voice this time a live one, “how may I direct your call?”
“To Mister Benjamin, please,” Marya responded. There was no ‘Mister Benjamin.’ That was just a code requesting the CSIS officer in charge.
A moment later a man’s voice answered, “Benjamin.”
“Please have Mister Ganley meet me at Harry’s in twenty minutes,” Marya announced.
“Certainly, Miss.” The man knew better than to ask who or why. He had an agent that wanted to come in.
Twenty minutes later, Marya sat at a small table in Harry’s bar sipping a glass of wine. A man in jeans and a flight jacket approached. He recognized the woman at the table as Marya Lukianov. “Hi there,” he said with a jovial smile sliding into a chair beside her, “long-time-no-see.”
She forced a broad smile. “Care to join me for a drink?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said waving to the bar tender. The bar tender knew Ganley well. He held up a beer glass with a questioning look. Ganley nodded.
They moved to a spot in the rear of the place. After a few minutes of chatter and the raising of glasses, Ganley said, “What’s going on, Marya?”
“I just shot a man and I need to de-brief,” she half whispered. “I need a place to stay as well.”
His face showed no expression. “I take it that this happened at your new place?”
She nodded.
“Stay with us tonight,” he said meaning in the building CSIS operated near the embassy.
“Okay,” she said, “shall I meet you there?”
Ganley finished the last of his beer. “I think we should walk together,” he declared.
_________
Steck received a call from Langley at about midnight Amman time.
“We’ve opened a new chapter in Operation Retrieve, Bob.” It was Morgan’s voice.
Steck already knew that the thing he had risked everything to retrieve had turned out a fake and that the real one was probably being shipped to Paris. What could it be this time? “After all that’s happened it’s hard to be surprised anymore,” He remarked.
“A man named Ahmed who worked for Al Kafajy was killed tonight in Paris. We think he might have had the prize in his possession when he was shot.”
“So,” Steck sighed, “we know where it is, at last. Did we wind up with it or do we have a new thief in the picture?”
“This is where it gets crazy, Bob. The thieves were Brandt and some other guy. The man named Ahmed seriously wounded Brandt in the fray. We don’t know where Brandt is at the moment because he and his accomplice fled the scene with a suitcase they took from Ahmed. We checked the airlines and found that Ahmed had just flown in from Amman. He had been in Tehran just two days ago.”
“So this Ahmed guy most likely had the real Hand of Mohammed in that suitcase?” Steck cursed his luck. He had probably been only a few blocks from the prize just last night.
“There’s more, Bob.” Morgan announced. “The shooter that killed Ahmed was Marya Lukianov.”
“Blazes,” Steck muttered. “What else?” he asked.
“From the description Marya gave in her de-briefing, we think Brandt’s accomplice was Randy Pullin.” Morgan paused then announced, “That’s all we have at the moment.”
“I think that’s quite enough,” said Steck. “I’ll be leaving on the first flight to Paris.”
“Why not just come home, Bob? The action’s over in Paris. We have folks that can tail Pullin and every immigration officer in the United States will have Pullin’s picture before dawn.”
Steck started to say ‘That doesn’t mean they’ll get the bugger,’ but thought better of it. Besides, he really wanted to see his wife after months on the run. “Okay Ryall, I’ll come in tomorrow night.”
_________
Three days later Steck showed up at the JUMP team headquarters at seven am. He was filled with that renewed energy that every agent feels after returning home from a long deployment. Spending the past evening and night with Amy had put a certain spring in his step as well.
The whole team was assembled and was already planning the next part of their job.
Mort Lindsley presented a plan to pick-up Paul Roche in Mexico. Agents were already watching Roche’s place and would be ready when he finally returned.
Ryall Morgan delivered status on the search for Randy Pullin and Brandt. He was confident that they would finally retrieve The Hand of Mohammed within a few days.
They decided to take a break at ten o’clock before hearing from Steck. As the team prepared to make a dash for the cafeteria and mid-morning coffee, Greg Liss asked for the floor.
“I just wanted to announce,” he said smiling broadly at Susan who was beaming, “that Susie and I have just become engaged.”
Susan took her hand from her pocket, revealing a dazzling diamond ring. She held it up for all to see. The team gave a hearty cheer and general congratulations erupted around the room.
Mort Lindsley joined in congrats, but flashed a look at Morgan, who just smiled. Mort was about to lose a member of the FBI team.
Morgan sidled up to Lindsley. “I’d like your permission to recruit the bride-to be,” he said.
Lindsley shrugged. “She’ll make a great field agent someday,” he said.
“Thanks to you my friend, she already is one,” Morgan replied.
After break, Steck was just about to make his presentation. The phone rang.
“Morgan,” Ryall answered pushing the speaker button. He supposed it was Bob MacFergus.
“Mister Morgan, there’s a Mister Pullin in the lobby,” the voice said. “He doesn’t have an appointment but insisted you would see him. Shall I ask your secretary to escort him to your office?”
“No, thank you,” Morgan replied, I’ll be right there.”
The silence in the room was palpable. Everyone was waiting for Morgan to speak. Steck broke the spell. “Every immigration agent in the United States had his picture.”
Morga
n knew that Steck wasn’t mocking, rather was giving respect to Pullin’s ability to move around at will.
“Take him into custody,” urged Lindsley.
Morgan flashed a disdainful look. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he left the room.
They all waited in silence for about ten minutes until Morgan and Pullin walked in.
Randy Pullin was not his usual self. He spoke quietly and with considerable reserve. “Gentlemen,” he paused to take in the faces around the room, “and ladies,” he added.
Lindsley was agitated. Morgan put a hand up as if to say “Peace.”
“For the past few weeks, my staff and I have been privileged to work side-by-side with some of you.” Randy nodded to Steck. “We have worked with you in Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Jordan, Afghanistan, Turkmenistan Iran and Turkey. I’m proud that we had the opportunity to be of service and I acknowledge that we have been well compensated for our services.”
“Your guys saved our bacon more than once,” Steck asserted. “Thank you for that.”
“No sweat,” Pullin nodded to Steck. “A few days ago, I realized where the real Hand of Mohammed was and that it would be moved long before you guys could get to it.”
Lindsley doubted that, but didn’t interrupt.
“Three days ago, I went personally to Paris along with one of my officers to intercept the goods.” Pullin paused as if what he was about to say was painful.
Steck said it for him. As a mark of respect, he decided to use the title Pullin would like to hear. “Colonel, we’re aware of the action you took on Rue des Chappelets. We assume from the fact that you are here alone that Major Brandt has not recovered from that action as yet.”
Pullin’s face screwed up as if fighting tears. He took a moment to recover then said simply, “Major Brandt is dead.” After a pained moment, he continued, “May I assume it was one of your agents that happened on the scene and saved me from the same fate?”
“You may,” Morgan said.
“So, Colonel Pullin,” drawled Mort Lindsley, “did you recover our figurine or not?”
“I did, sir.” Pullin reached in his briefcase and removed a golden sack. He opened it and carefully removed the object, placing it on the table. “Here is The Hand of Mohammed.”
Greg Liss stared in awe at the thing. Mesmerized, he said “The professor will want to see this.”
Lindsley picked it up and held it to the light. “Of course before we believe you we’ll have to verify the authenticity of this thing.”
“Whatever you wish, sir,” Pullin said. Personally I wish I had never been associated with the thing. It has only brought grief to all involved.” He closed his brief case and stood up. “I’ll be leaving now.”
Lindsley started to open his mouth. “I’ll walk you out,” said Morgan before Lindsley could speak.
Sensing where Lindsley’s mind was going,” Pullin added, “Don’t worry, Steck knows where I’ll be.”
The two men left the room. Everyone knew exactly what had just gone down. Pullin had done what none of them had been able to do. Without Pullin’s people, the operation never could have been mounted, never mind completed successfully. He had made his case for exoneration and was resigned to whatever action ensued.
Lindsley was already at the end point in the reasoning path. If they went after Free Nation a lot would be made public that the government could not afford to be made public.
When Morgan returned, He summed up.
“Well,” he began, “we now have five actions on the table, in this order: One, we call Bob MacFergus and bring him into the information loop. Two, we go through the diligence of verification about the item through Professor Wigglesworth. Three, we call the President. Four, we find and arrest Paul Roche for the murder of Grayson. Five and last but not least, we find out from Greg and Susan; When’s the big day?”
_________
One week later, the President of the United States received an official state visit from The King of Saudi Arabia. They discussed mutual trade relations, the continuing struggle against terror in the world, and several political issues.
At the end of their meeting they posed for the media and gave the usual speeches.
Just prior to The King’s departure, the President called him into the oval office for a private talk.
There was a small golden sack resting on the President’s desk.
“I have something that belongs to you,” the President announced. He reached for the sack. “On behalf of the people of the United States I present to you The Hand of Mohammed. Please return it to its rightful place among the national treasures of your country.”
Don’t miss these other novels in the series: Bob Steck’s ‘adventures of a spymaster’
by James Ward
Weapons of the Prophets - Available now at Kindle, fall 2011 in print
Bad Dogs, Running – Sequel to The Hand of The Prophet -Available now at Kindle, winter 2011 in print
Eagle in the Storm - Coming Winter 2011
Links at: www.scantumpress.com