Noble's Quest

by Sally Fernandez

  Noble stared at the screen and eyed the massive room filled with cubicles and office equipment. It looked to be the size of a typical big box store without the massive shelving. He continued to watch as the soldiers moved guardedly from desk to desk, looking for signs of activity.

  Max and Agent Burke stood back and surveyed the room. Then, as the serial all clears were shouted, Max and the agent moved in and scoured the individual office areas for clues as to their former inhabitants. They counted over a dozen computer monitors and keyboards, stacks of unused paper and pens galore, but no hard drives, and no telephones.

  “Over here!” Max heard one of the soldiers call out.

  Agent Burke was the first to dash toward the shout. Max immediately followed behind.

  “We discovered these two guys shouting from a locked room over there.” The soldier pointed.

  “The minute we broke the lock and opened the door, they started spewing about how they had been kidnapped,” the other soldier reported dubiously.

  Standing next to the soldiers were two clearly frightened young men who looked to be in their mid-twenties, although seeing them handcuffed made them appear less terrified and more menacing.

  Both soldiers stood on guard with hands on pistols.

  Max entered the area and briefly interrogated the two men with a series of questions.

  While Noble listened intently, he heard them explain that they had been camping near the Joy Mineshaft when captured.

  Simultaneously, Max and Noble concluded they had found their trekkers.

  The captives claimed that one night someone invaded their campsite and knocked them unconscious. When they were awakened, they found themselves locked in a room. Allegedly, it was the same room where the soldiers found them.

  “What did they want from you?” Noble heard Max ask.

  The brawniest of the pair spoke first. “Over the past two weeks, several attempts were made to recruit us—to join what they called the cause—but we resisted,” he claimed with brio.

  The other, seemingly more cognizant of the situation, stated, “The prime goal of the camp was to recruit us to join them to help purge the world of non-Islamic influences—in essence, destroy the western culture.” He continued to describe how their captors tried various techniques, short of outright torture, to convince them to sign up. “It was abundantly clear that a positive answer was our only salvation, and time was short. We were about ready to relent to save our skins and to buy time.”

  Noble shook his head in disbelief. He sensed Max was thinking the same.

  “Fortuitously, their captors stumbled upon two virile young men testing their endurance in that unforgiving part of the country—obviously, prime candidates for a terrorist mission.” Max heard Noble articulate through her earpiece. “Did they hear or see anything that would lead us to the terrorist members of the camp?”

  Max repeated Noble’s question, directing it to the more responsive trekker.

  “A few days before, it sounded like everyone was packing up in preparation to leave in haste. During that time, four men arrived. I remember overhearing one of them say that they cycled to the camp. I thought it odd, given the temperatures outside. From their conversation, I got the impression they were new recruits,” he speculated.

  Max then showed each of them the photo of Mohammed al-Fadl. They both nodded, acknowledging they did not recognize him.

  Max sighed.

  Noble remained stalwart. Nevertheless, he sounded a tad disappointed. “If they turn out to be our missing cyclists, then four more young men willing to commit terrorist acts against their own country have slipped through our fingers.” Reverting swiftly to form, he ordered, “For your own safety, keep the trekkers handcuffed and under military control until we can conduct a more thorough investigation back at the base.”

  Max relayed the command.

  The soldiers nodded in agreement.

  While Noble had focused on Max’s activities, he was unaware that Agent Burke and the two other soldiers had been surveying the rest of the facility until Max looked over in Burke’s direction. Now viewing a different scene from the IMAC, Noble grilled her with his storied impatience. “Did they find any documentation, computers, any evidence as to who was there?”

  Max shouted out the question to Agent Burke.

  “It looks as though they had time to destroy everything that would leave any clues,” he replied.

  Behind the agent, in the far corner on the opposite end of the room from where they had entered, appeared another series of doors.

  Max walked over to where one soldier had just opened one of those doors.

  Noble immediately eyed a large shredder. From the debris on the floor, someone ostensibly had been working overtime. “Max, I want all of the shredding brought back.”

  “Okay,” she responded.

  Noble could hear her issue the order.

  As Agent Burke continued to peruse the rest of the office cubicle, Max continued to follow behind two of the soldiers. Every time they opened a door, Max was ordered to step back while they investigated the room. Each room proved to be primarily private office spaces, containing only a desk and a few chairs.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she muttered.

  One of the soldiers looked over to Max, ready to respond. He then realized she was talking to the director on the other end of her IMAC.

  “The cyclists reached their goal. It looks like we found their recruiting center,” Noble answered.

  “Or, perhaps, an indoctrination center,” she added.

  “But, for what? Purge the world of non-Islamic influences? I’m not so sure. It sounds a bit farfetched.”

  As Max listened to Noble, she spotted something on the floor near one of the doors they had not yet opened. She headed in that direction.

  “Stand back!” a soldier called out. “Ma’am, let us enter first.”

  “I’m just looking at something on the floor.” As Max leaned over, Noble felt a jolt, as though he had grabbed a live wire. He glared at the screen and watched Max’s hand reach for a flash drive near the bottom rail of the door—a flash drive etched with the initials LF.

  “Boom!” echoed a loud blast through Noble’s speaker system that seemed to shake the room. The scene on the monitor began spinning rapidly out of control. Abruptly, a cloud of smoke rushed toward Noble as though it would pierce the touch-screen display and envelop him.

  Then, a silence shrouded the room.

  The spinning stopped—and everything reverted to slow motion.

  Those last few moments seemed surreal. Even Noble found himself brushing off his jacket as if he was covered in debris.

  “Max! Max!”

  Without missing a beat, Noble grabbed his phone and hit the speed dial button for Dugway. “Get me the Colonel. This is Director Bishop.”

  “He’s standing right here, sir. One moment, please,” the sergeant replied.

  “Director, I know about the explosion.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “All I know is that one of my men guarding the Bell Hill Mine reported the blast. I’ve dispatched emergency vehicles to the area. They should be arriving momentarily.”

  “Agent Burke is on line two,” the sergeant interrupted.

  “Director, I have Agent Burke on the other line.”

  “Can you conference me in?”

  “Yes, hold on. Agent Burke, this is Colonel Evans. I have Director Bishop on the line as well.”

  Moments later Noble heard a voice say, “Director.”

  Oh my God, he thought. “Where’s Max?” he yelled, while at the same time feeling guilty. That should have been me.

  “Director Bishop, Max will be okay. She had the wind knocked out of her and has a nasty cut on her head, but her pulse is good.”

  “What the hell happened?” Noble demanded in a feigned, calmer tone.

  The agent, noticeably shaken, described the events in rapid-fire succession. �
�Evidently, one of the soldiers turned the knob on the door near where Max was standing. The door appeared to have been booby-trapped to set off a grenade when it was opened. The blast knocked all of us to the ground! Rocks and debris were flying everywhere!”

  The Colonel cut in. “Calm down, Burke. The other soldiers; how are they?”

  “Two are dead, sir. They took the brunt of the blast and were killed instantly.” His speech pattern slowed, and he sounded dazed. “The other soldiers and the two men we are detaining are okay. They were on the other side of the room at the time of the explosion.”

  “Burke, are you all right?” The concern in Noble’s voice was intense.

  “Just a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing of any consequence, sir.”

  “Can you tell what is on the other side of the door?” Noble inquired in a steadier voice.

  “Sir, right now the entrance is completely blocked. I can’t see how far it extends. Wait a minute! Can you see it on your screen, Director? I’m holding Max’s IMAC.”

  “No, it’s completely blank. The blast must have knocked out the webcam. Thank god your smartphone works and we didn’t lose communication.” Although relieved, Noble was surprised.

  The agent noted the tone of the director’s voice and responded, “I’m amazed it works. Whoever operates this place must have found a way to boost the satellite signal. That would explain the absence of any telephones.”

  Without warning, Noble heard a moaning sound in the background.

  Agent Burke must have also. He looked down. “Hold on sir, she’s coming around.” He handed Max his smartphone, and Noble heard a welcomed voice.

  “Noble, we lost two soldiers in the blast,” she reported, understandably stunned.

  “Burke filled me in on what happened. Thank God you’re not injured seriously.”

  “My dates might not think so. I think I took some shrapnel to the head,” Max lamented as she reached for her temple, only to encounter blood streaming down her face. Fortunately, the wound was superficial. She held the smartphone to her ear and waited for an encouraging retort, something to erase the horror of what just occurred. There was no response. “Noble, are you there?”

  The Colonel, still listening on the other line, remained silent and allowed the conversation to ensue between the director and his deputy without interruption. It’s their show, he thought.

  “Yes, I’m trying to absorb the enormity of the blast that killed two soldiers and could have killed you.” Noble paused. “Max, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but do you still have the flash drive?”

  “What drive?”

  “Max, are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Oh, yeah, hold on.” Max slowly reached into her pocket. “Noble, it’s gone,” she gasped. “I must have dropped it in the explosion.”

  Noble could hear the pain resonate in her voice, but she persisted. “I recall there were initials etched on the drive. What do you think they mean?” As she envisioned the two letters, she suddenly blurted out, “L-F—La Fratellanza—you think it’s his?”

  “Max, now listen to me. Forget all this for now and get to the base.”

  “But, Noble.”

  Noble was cognizant that others were listening. He ignored her plea. “Tomorrow, I want the base forensic team to scour the place for prints, hair, anything, everything, and the flash drive. Have them look through all the shredded paper to see if they can match anything that will give us a clue as to what kind of operation was really being run down there. Also, bring in some troops to start digging through the debris, but as soon as they find an opening they are not—I repeat—not to enter the tunnel. Stand down until I get back to you.”

  “You think there are more facilities like this? You think that’s where the occupants are hiding out, somewhere in the complex?”

  “Yes, to both questions and, if we are lucky, the elusive leader will be among them.”

  Noble was careful not to mention Simon by name. He knew Max would follow his cue.

  “Where do you think the tunnel leads?” Max inquired, knowing she might regret the answer.

  “My best guess—to an underground terrorist camp.” Noble, aghast at his own words, was glad Max was not in the room to see his expression.

  “If that’s so, what about escape routes?” Max probed further.

  Noble swiftly reviewed the situation with Max. The Colonel listened. “Continue to have all three mines guarded and have the soldiers and the feds look for any suspicious movement in the surrounding areas,” he instructed. He knew he didn’t need to remind her to be circumspect and trusted she’d heed caution when dealing with everyone she encountered.

  Then, not wanting to delay their departure any further and to provide the medical attention they needed, the Colonel finally interrupted and announced. “Excuse me Director, but the ambulances have arrived and are standing by at the mineshaft. They won’t be able to bring the stretchers into the tunnel. Max, can all of you return through the tunnel using the Segways?”

  “Hold on, sir.”

  Noble and the Colonel could hear Max ask the soldiers if they could carry their fallen comrades on their shoulders. Their response was affirmative. She could also be heard instructing the soldiers to arrange for the two trekkers to ride the two Segways that unfortunately, became available with the demise of the two troops.

  Noble broke up the conversation. “Max, I want them handcuffed to the transporters. They are to ride behind the soldiers and in front of you and Burke. You are in no shape, but instruct Burke to shoot if necessary. Let’s not assume they are innocent. Now, get back to base and have the medic check you out. I need you to be in top shape.”

  “Noble, can you send me my other IMAC?”

  “I’ll have it to you in the morning. Later, Max.” The sound from the speaker system ceased.

  While Max was speaking with Noble, Agent Burke had removed his jacket and had managed to tear off the left sleeve of his shirt. He wrapped the sleeve securely around the wound on Max’s head, a lesson he had learned in his first-aid training.

  Max passed on Noble’s orders.

  “Are you sure you can you handle the trip back? We can both try to go on one Segway,” Burke suggested.

  Max, clearly touched, replied stoically, “I can make it on my own, thanks.”

  To be on the safe side, the agent trailed closely behind, keeping a close eye on Max, as well as the two trekkers.

  Max, wobbly at times, managed the ride, a ride she would never forget.

  The return trip through the tunnel was slower and more solemn. The only sound she sensed was the pounding in her head. She watched as they followed behind the two trekkers. In front of them were the two soldiers on Segways, each carrying one of his mates draped around their shoulders.

  19

  WAASP FOR SAVIOR

  Hours earlier, the sun had lowered in the sky, casting an orange and pink hue over the Rhone River. The sunset should have signaled the end of day for Director Enzo Borgini. But, it was another day at Interpol working with SAVIOR—guaranteeing several more hours of work. Enzo was convinced that his wife suspected he was harboring a mistress. Unlike his Italian counterparts, however, he had spent most evenings with a cold computer program on steroids. It was nine o’clock in the evening when he finally decided to call it a night.

  Just as he began to assemble his papers and place them in his briefcase, his smartphone rang. He placed his phone securely between his left ear and shoulder and continued to shuffle his papers as he broadcasted, “I’m leaving right now.” As he held his breath and waited for the maternal blitz, he heard, “Ciao Enzo, it’s Noble.” Startled, he realized it wasn’t his wife calling. “Hold on a second.” He switched the phone to his right hand, sat back down in chair, and hoped it wouldn’t be a long conversation. “What a coincidence. I had planned to call you tomorrow and update you on the case.”

  “I can’t wait to hear—but first I need a gigantic favor.” The tentativeness in Nobl
e’s voice came through loud and clear.

  Enzo picked-up on the tenor, which only added to his trepidation. “Should I be glad I’m already sitting down for this one?”

  “I need the WAASP,” Noble asked reticently, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be aware of the top secret testing of a new aerial surveillance system—but it would be crucial to his investigation—and time was of the essence.

  It was a known fact that, in 1985, the Swedish National Defense Research Agency for their Ministry of Defense, conducted a theoretical study to test the first prototype of the Coherent All Radio BAnd Sensing program, known as Carabas, manufactured by the Swedish company Saab. Carabas uses SAR, synthetic-aperture radar technology, but its capacity exceeds the 20-90 megahertz frequency interval in the VHF band, utilized by typical SAR imaging.

  “Your government is already using the Carabas II!” Enzo underscored, believing Noble was fully aware.

  “I know, Enzo, but let me enlighten you,” he needled, and then switched to an increasingly professorial tone. “Since 1996, my government has installed the Carabas II on our UAVs. In fact, in 2003, our government spent over one billion dollars for Unmanned Aerial Vehicles for the first time. But, you know, I’m not talking about the Carabas II—I need the WAASP!” he emphasized.

  “Noble, how do you… “Enzo stopped in mid-sentence, and then quickly relented, “Oh never mind. Hamilton always remarked that you were the best,” he sighed, knowing full well that Noble knew Interpol was working on their own secret version of the Carabas II.

  The Wide-Area Aerial Surveillance Penetration system, called WAASP, went beyond the capabilities of Carabas II. The Carabas II ignored vegetation and reflected off manmade objects, but could detect only those objects under foliage and below the surface, limited to a depth of twenty feet of penetration. The technology had been indispensable as a military and law enforcement tactical defense weapon used to thwart illegal activity, such as drugs and arms smuggling. And, although it was vital in terrorist surveillance, it didn’t have the capabilities of the WAASP.

  “You know the Carabas II’s limitations. That’s why I need the WAASP!” Noble reiterated firmly, and with equal animation. “I know you’re aware the technology has been further advanced, and its SAR capability can detect underground structures at greater depths through solid objects, including mountains.”