As the light appeared early on Tuesday morning Warren expected another dull day. At five minutes past seven the phone rang and an agent answered then handed the phone to Warren who was still bleary eyed.
“Hey Warren, it’s Bill. How are you doing?” Bill said over a crackly phone line.
“Yeah fine, nothing new to report,” he mumbled.
“Good. Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by at some point. I’ve got something I wanna run past you.” Warren was standing holding the receiver whilst looking at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t shaved in days and his white vest had become a dull grey.
“Yeah, no problem sir. How about 1200?” he said.
“Make it 1400 if you can,” Bill responded.
“No problem,” Warren said, picking up his watch from the sideboard. Bill didn’t respond and hung up.
“Looks like I’ve gotta go into the office. They need me,” Warren said as if he was holding the responsibility of the country’s security on his shoulders. The Federal Agents showed little emotion.
“Time?” one of them asked.
“I need to be on base at 1400 hours,” Warren said, looking out of the window as a light rain began pattering against the glass.
“OK. Be ready by one,” the female agent demanded, setting an alarm on her watch.
At exactly 2pm there was a knock at Bill’s office door. Warren walked in and stood by a chair.
“Well, I have news,” Bill said, pointing to a seat. “But this is just between me and you for now Warren, OK?” Warren nodded. “Since Roger isn’t interested in Kioshi and neither is James I’ve been working on Kioshi from my own angle. How did Kioshi know where Lindon would be? The only people in the world who knew about that operation were the four of us and the CIA’s third party contact in procurement that secured Lindon for the job. They go by the name of Dino Logging Brothers Co.,” Bill said with his eyes wide.
Warren listened intently. He wanted to ask questions but Bill wasn’t chairing a Q&A. This was a sit and listen meeting. He continued, “Now I’ve done all the checks I can on Dino Logging Brothers Co. The business is obviously a front for a more illicit trade. After making a few calls and saying the right names I managed to speak to a guy named Jim. I met him in Toronto a couple of days ago. He’s an ex-military man so someone we can trust. He was easy to talk to but he remained fairly tight lipped. He did however say that there were only three or four people in the whole organization who knew Lindon was going on the mission. All of them had an interest in the mission going smoothly. Apparently a healthy bonus all round was due if the mission went well. When I mentioned the shooter on the roof he was dumbfounded. I pressed him a little and he seemed genuine.” Bill rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
“OK, so what does that mean?” Warren asked, hoping that Bill was driving toward a revelation.
Bill lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “That means that the only people who knew about Kioshi were the four of us in that room, plus the MI5 agents. I think someone told him where to go.”
“C’mon sir. Really?” Warren said in disbelief. Warren hadn’t expected Bill to point the finger at one of his own and now he was becoming nervous, did Bill think that he was a traitor?
“I just can’t see any way else he would know that Lindon was there,” Bill said.
“We know he has a team behind him in Japan. Maybe they are better than we thought?” Warren suggested.
“Possibly, but to such an exact location? To know the building he would be in and even what floor?” Bill placed his index fingers together and stared at a picture in his office.
“But who? I mean, if you didn’t and I sure as hell I didn’t then you’re suggesting either the secretary to the president or a senior member of the CIA is a mole,” Warren said.
“Well Warren, I’m sure it isn’t you. I trust you, but you were also under constant supervision so it wouldn’t have been possible for you to have given Kioshi the information without detection, but James and Roger both disappeared to make calls and had several chances to contact Kioshi.”
“Yeah, but Bill, why would James want Kioshi to kill Lindon? The CIA would look like a joke if an atomic bomb wipes out Manhattan and the president’s secretary may be an asshole but he’s surrounded by the secret service all day. Plus all his communications are monitored and the White House he sits in all day would be a target if Kioshi was able to kill Lindon and use the weapon.” Warren felt a cold tingle down his spine.
“I know, I know. All this has run through my head a thousand times.” Bill exhaled and looked at his shoes. “Maybe I’m just looking too hard for an answer. It’s been weeks and we haven’t got any leads. Nothing even close. How can both of these men have just disappeared after having a gun fight in a densely populated city with more cameras watching over it than any other city on this earth?” Bill sounded downtrodden and resigned. He had been working non-stop to find anything he could but every lead led to a blank.
Warren didn’t have an answer, but a suggestion popped into his mind. “Well I know what I would do. I would high tail it out of there as quickly as possible. We know Kioshi has money and resources. He must have got a plane out of England and likely went back to Japan, surely a flight plan for a jet at a small airfield would be a good place to look.”
Bill’s face lit up at the idea. “Yes. We might struggle to isolate a particular airfield but we can see what air traffic control would have seen. That’s a great idea. We’ve been focusing too local and looking at the cameras around the shoot -out but we need to look at where they went after England. I knew you would be helpful!” Bill headed to the door, leaving Warren in his office. Bill turned back half way down the hall.
“Warren, c’mon you might as well do the searching since this was your idea.” Warren rolled his eyes and followed Bill along the wide corridors to the Cyber room where Bill had assembled a team to work on the case. All were tired and had grown bored of the monotonous work. Searching through surveillance footage in painful detail second by second tested even the most obsessive of analysts.
“New task,” Bill announced. Three heads turned. Their attention peaked. Anything other than what they had been doing was welcome. “Our new task is to search the airspace above England for that night and the day after. Flights to Japan in particular but all routes need to be investigated. If Kioshi flew out of England then we can narrow down where he went.”
The mood in the room changed. Searching the skies for air traffic late on the night of the operation should give an answer fairly quickly and even if it didn’t it was more interesting that staring at every bus in London. Warren sat next to the only woman in the group, Catherine. They knew each other well.
“Warren will help. I reckon this shouldn’t take more than a few hours… Warren, meet me in my office at seventeen hundred hours.” Warren checked his watch; five o’clock was just over two hours away. Everyone set to work with enthusiasm. Catherine turned to Warren.
“He’s had us in here for days,” she said grimly.
“Don’t worry, I think we’ve turned a corner,” Warren said optimistically.
“I hope you’re right. I can’t stand the thought of spending another day in this stuffy office. I would rather be back on basic training,” Catherine said with a smile.
Warren remembered the misery of basic training, twelve hours a day of running around in the mud. He would rather be in the stuffy office; at least there was a coffee machine here.
James was going around in circles. He hadn’t slept in days and Lindon had consumed every minute of his life. The traffic cams weren’t able to identify any drivers or passengers and there were dozens that looked like Lindon. All James knew for sure was that Lindon hadn’t taken a tube train or a night bus. The morning call from Roger had been icy. Roger was getting pressure from the president. James didn’t have any answers and was becoming desperate. At 4pm the phone rang. James let it ring several times before eventually answering. To his surprise and sh
ock it was Lt Donald Felix who was no longer acting like an old man dribbling in an old folks’ home.
“Office of James Conran,” James said.
“James, it’s Donald Felix, I take it you’ve heard of me?” Felix spoke with a clear Texan accent.
“Yes sir, the president speaks very highly of you…it’s an honor to speak to you sir but–“
“Cut the crap, junior. Let’s talk about your man, Lindon.” Donald inhaled then coughed several times.
“Yes sir,” James replied, unable to think of anything better.
“Look. You gotta know something.” James leaned forward waiting for Donald’s revelation. “Lindon doesn’t know he has the codes instilled in his mind. I know you guys think he’s running from you but he’s not, he’s running from everyone. He runs because at the end of project parasite I told him to run if he was ever chased. He doesn’t know who is trying to track him down and he was told to trust no one. You must understand.”
“How did you-“ James was cut off once again.
“The president keeps me in the loop. He said you’ve been trying to chase him for over a week with no success.” Two weeks, James said in his head. Donald coughed again. “I met Professor Ebton years ago. Great guy. Real patriot. Had a father or grandfather that fought on the front line. I spoke to him about the program after he designed it. Lindon will never know how central he is to the code. He doesn’t even know he has the code. It was all part of the program. That’s why it’s named ‘parasite’, and as such he’s not running from you, that young man went to ground after going through a tough war and I feel for him. We let him disappear knowing that he was no threat. I must admit I thought that the young guns at the agency today would be able to find him much quicker than this but if he wants to stay hidden he will have the means to. What you need to do is find a way to get the message that you’re not after him, you just need his help.”
James paused for second, waiting to see if Lt Felix would continue talking. “Yes but Donald, if I may call you Donald?” James asked.
“Doesn’t bother me,” Lt Felix said nonchalantly.
“Donald, how? I don’t even know where he is.” Donald sighed, he couldn’t believe he was speaking to a man that one day would likely be the head of the CIA.
“Just do what we used to do before all this technology muddied the water and made people forget that people are more powerful than machines. You talk to people. Ask questions in a quiet meeting with the NSA and FBI. If that doesn’t work you think logically. If this guy is running but he doesn’t know who is after him then where would he go?” Donald sipped on a drink. James rolled his eyes. He makes it seem so easy, he thought.
“Where would he go?” he asked.
Donald chuckled then coughed. “I have no idea, the North Pole if he’s got any sense,” Donald said, then paused. “If you ask me, your biggest concern is Kioshi. That guy is gonna come back. I’ve dealt with his type before. They will keep going until they’re six feet deep. He will go after everybody including you, me, Warren, Roger, everybody.”
James was silent, suddenly feeling as though he was being watched. “What should I do?” he said as he looked through the blinds of his office window.
“Hunt that man with everything you’ve got. Lindon isn’t your concern, he is one of us.”
“OK, what about Roger?” James said as he turned back to look at his office.
“Leave Roger out of the loop, he’s already too involved for a secretary. No matter who his boss is, and I just don’t like the guy. He’s always around like a snake slithering through the grass.”
“OK, when should I call you?” James asked with a pen hovering over his notepad.
“James, this is our first and last conversation… after what happened in London Kioshi is too much of a threat for me to stick around,” Donald said with real concern.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“Take care and make sure you nail this bastard. Best of luck kiddo.”
The phone line went dead. James sat at his desk for a moment contemplating his next move. The air was heavy in the office and the sun was breaking through the blinds and making the dust in the air visible. James put his jacket on, took another look out through the blinds and walked out to his car, unsure what to do next.
Chapter 33
Lindon’s retreat was a cross between the snow covered timber buildings on skiing holiday websites and a shack.
The exterior was styled like a family summerhouse that was a common sight in Sweden; the locals paid minimal attention to small houses in the forests. The windows were small and the ceiling was low. An exercise bike that generated electricity sat outside next to a gas bottle. One hour’s cycling would create roughly a day’s worth of power. Lindon predominantly relied on a diesel generator and a small wind turbine on the roof for power. Inside the cabin Lindon lay on his back staring at the ceiling. He was beginning to consider what was next for him. He had checked his bank account and all the payments from Dino Logging had cleared, to his surprise. He had enough money to never work again, which was becoming a gift and a curse. He felt lost with his purpose in life fading. His years of mercenary work were over. For now, remaining hidden was his only purpose. His thoughts drifted to running a small business, he had always dreamt about running a small dealership that sold rare or exotic cars or even set himself up as a vintage gun reseller.
There were four rooms in the small lodge. All of them were deliberately bland. The bathroom had nothing but a toilet, a shower and a toothbrush in it. The kitchen had a small wood burning cooker, a shelf and a microwave. The living area was the only part of the house that was from the twenty-first century. Two laptops, a phone and a proximity alarm were on top of a table with a few wires sprouting out towards the wall.
Lindon had grabbed his phone and decided to send Stephanie a text message from one of the cell phones he kept at his lodge. It went against his desire to remain hidden, but Stephanie was trustworthy. At least Lindon believed she was and with only a couple of days until Christmas he decided to send a message in the hope of a reply:
Season’s greetings, I’m around, would be great to catch up. Lindon
Hours passed with no response. Lindon retrieved wood from outside and walked down to the stream nearby to collect some more fresh water. He walked through the door of the lodge as the sun began to set on another short day. He glanced at his phone, silently hoping there would be a message. Nothing. He began to feel a fool for letting his emotions get the better of him.
Stephanie had been rushing all day. Stockholm traffic had made her late and a colleague had left work early, leaving her with double her usual paperwork.
Stephanie had promised her next-door neighbor she would do his Christmas shopping. He was 89 years old and didn’t like to go outside. Especially during the Christmas rush. As the snow fell all around her and a cold wind swept through the streets her mind took her to a tropical escape. Lying on a beach under a blue sky. ‘If only’ she whispered to herself, staring at the gloomy clouds above. At 7.30pm she arrived home. Her house had a bright red door, which set it apart from all the others on the street. Her last ounce of energy was used to raise her key to the lock and twist. She stepped out of the freezing air and into the warmth of home. As she shut the door behind her she dropped her head and exhaled noisily. Her long blonde hair drooped down around her.
“Hey Hey” her father called from the kitchen where the musky smell of a freshly cooked dinner wafted through the air. Stephanie didn’t answer; instead she stood up straight, removed her winter boots and put on her ‘house heels’. Her heels clicked towards the kitchen.
“Hey Dad,” she said leaning by the side of the door. Her father was standing in the middle of the kitchen with his oven mitts and an apron on, holding a casserole.
“Well what ya’ think?” he asked.
“I will reserve judgment until I try it,” Stephanie said with a smirk on her face. She clicked her heels towards the glas
s cabinet. “Drink?” she asked.
“Rough day?” her father responded.
Stephanie stretched her long slim frame toward the top shelf of the drinks cabinet, where the good stuff was kept. “Madness. Every year I forget how stressful Christmas shopping is. The city is so busy and there are holidaymakers everywhere, lost, staring at bus stops and store windows. Plus Elsa left early because her son was sick. So I’ve had to do two people’s work today, and then I got caught out in the heavy snowfall. It just stopped as I got home.” Stephanie sat down and sipped a drink.
“Oh yeah, it started around two o’clock, right? I watched it out of the window. Must have been four or five inches of snow in an hour,” he said as he slid a tray out of the oven and stirred a pot on the stove.
“Well try being huddled under a canopy with fifty strangers trying to dodge the worst of it,” she said, running her hands through her hair. Stephanie poured herself a second measure of Jack Daniels followed by a splash in her father’s favorite glass. She walked to the fridge to find the Coca Cola.
“None for me thanks, dear. I’ll have it straight.” Stephanie handed the glass to her father. “I sent you a message earlier about the presents for Gunther, did you get it?” he asked.
“No, please don’t tell me he changed his mind.”
“No, no. He said if any of it was too much trouble, he could just get some vouchers. His son called him and his granddaughter is getting to an age where she wants clothes and make-up, but no one knows what clothes and make-up. Ah, I remember those days with you, did I tell you the time-”
Stephanie quickly cut her father off before he began to digress. “Yes Dad, you’ve told me, anyway I already got everything,” Stephanie said and walked to the living room.
“Great, he will be happy. Do you want me to drop it over to him?” he asked.
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