by Ty Patterson
The grab had been executed at short notice. Not enough time to get the right equipment; however, It had gone down well. They now needed to put time and distance behind to transfer vehicles.
The women hadn’t put up a fight. Not much of one. They had been cuffed and gagged. Their cell phones crushed. One man had torn their outer wear off.
One woman, the one called Beth, had lashed out. The man had buried a blade in her left shoulder.
No words spoken. One knife. One shoulder. One scream. Total control.
The driver looked in the rear mirror. The injured twin was leaning against her sister. Her eyes closed, her face pale, blood streaming down her naked belly. Her twin was glaring at them, her face red in anger.
No vehicles were pursuing them. The police scanner lay quiet.
He veered off and joined Amsterdam Avenue and notched up his speed. A second vehicle was waiting in a warehouse near Harlem River. The women needed to be interrogated.
The drive to the warehouse was uneventful. Traffic thinned as they neared the warehouse and turned onto the asphalt road that branched into the deserted warehouse.
It was abandoned. It was perfect for their purpose.
The driver slowed as he entered the warehouse entrance and stopped.
He exited the vehicle and heard doors open behind him as the rest of the men started clambering out.
He lifted his head sharply. Something? A vehicle’s throaty roar?
The SUV came from around a wall of the warehouse, so fast that none of the men had time to react.
It rammed into the larger SUV. A couple of the black suited men stumbled.
Zeb leapt out. Didn’t bother to turn off the engine. Didn’t bother to turn to track Bwana’s arrival.
A dark suit was in his vision.
The man turned to Zeb. Light glinted off a barrel.
Now!
The beast surged. Zeb dived under the straightening arm. Caught hold of the wrist. Crushed it. His elbow flew out. Punched the suit in his throat. Suit went down.
Zeb turned. His Glock appeared in his hand. Pointed at another suit.
He lowered it. Roger shot the suit from behind.
Zeb ran to the large SUV and flung open the rear door. Took in the twins. In their underwear. Beth bleeding.
Another attacker appeared from the back of the vehicle. His gun pointed.
‘Stop!’ The man yelled.
Bwana rose from behind the man. Tall. Black. His face an iron mask. Bwana had seen the twins. Had seen their condition.
His ham-like fist swung, casually backhanding the shooter. The gunman’s head bounced off the roof of the vehicle. He slid down, out of Zeb’s sight.
Zeb’s eyes were fixed on Bear, visible through the opposite door of the vehicle.
Bear was grappling with another suit. A shooter was running toward Bear, his gun raised.
Zeb’s left hand grabbed the roof railing. The beast inside him snarled silently as he powered himself up and flew. Up and over the roof.
His body was tight and narrow, his Glock rising again.
One second when time stood still. When the earth stopped rotating.
His Glock spoke and the attacker fell.
Zeb landed on the other side of the vehicle and relaxed when Bear clubbed his opponent.
Footsteps came pounding. His gun rose. Lowered, when he saw Bwana.
‘All clear, bro.’
They went to the captor’s vehicle and peered inside.
Beth looked at them and managed a smile.
‘Took you long enough.’
Chapter 35
The warehouse was soon flooded by cruisers and police officers. Red and white flashing lights bathed the desolate structure and brought it to life.
Beth’s shoulder was stitched and bandaged by paramedics. The blade had pierced the fleshy part of her shoulder and hadn’t severed any ligaments or tendons.
She would be okay in a few days. Painkillers were given. A hospital visit was urged. Rest was recommended.
She took the pills and snorted inelegantly at the recommendations.
She joined her sister who was briefing Pizaka and Chang, the former looking like he was on a Hollywood set.
‘Three dead, two alive, one of them barely; the one Bwana hit.’ Pizaka summed it for her, his shades reflecting red and blue flashing lights.
She looked at Bwana who shrugged unapologetically. ‘He must have a thick head. He wasn’t meant to live.’
She waited for Chang to finish talking to other cops and when he was free, she turned to her sister. ‘Did you tell them about Dividing Zero?’
‘Nope.’
As the sun disappeared below the horizon, and evening turned to night, Beth told her friends and the two cops about Dividing Zero.
Day seventeen was spent in investigating the kidnappers.
The one man who could talk, wasn’t speaking. He stonewalled the cops and sat silently in his cell with an impassive face.
The grab vehicle was rented using false IDs. None of the suits carried any identification. Their prints weren’t on record. Their faces weren’t in any facial recog database.
No attorney came forward to represent the surviving men.
‘It’s as if whoever employed them has disowned them,’ Chang finger-combed his hair yet again in exasperation.
The two cops were in the Columbus Avenue office. Zeb’s involvement in the rescue was covered up. The NYPD took the credit. Witnesses had alerted them to the kidnapping, a smart cop had spotted the getaway vehicle and the cops had arrived just in time.
The story suited Zeb. Limelight wasn’t his thing.
They’re deep black operatives? Meghan looked at Zeb for confirmation, on hearing Chang’s comment. He sensed her thought and nodded imperceptibly.
Employed by whom? Someone doesn’t want John Doe to be found. John Doe wants us to find him, however.
She didn’t find any answers. Neither did anyone else.
Werner came back with more details on Dividing Zero after going through the most covert databases in the country.
It confirmed what the general had said; none of Mayo and Kane’s clients had been involved with Dividing Zero.
Werner couldn’t find whose records the program had erased.
‘That was the point, wasn’t it?’ Beth winced as she moved gingerly in her seat.
‘You should be resting.’
‘We should be hunting,’ Beth flared at her sister. ‘General Klouse get back with any names?’
The general had promised to dig out who Dividing Zero’s operatives had been.
‘Nope.’
‘I wouldn’t hold my breath,’ Zeb called out from his couch. ‘The military has a habit of closing ranks. Even the general may not get far.’
Beth swore softly. ‘Where does that leave us?’
A hand shot up. Roger. ‘I know y’all have more brains than me…’ he ducked the paper ball that came his way. ‘But, maybe, we should talk to Stoll?’
They were in Hazelton, in the federal prison, in the afternoon, in an interview room with Russell Stoll.
Clare had made calls, turned on the juice and had arranged the interview. The visitors wanted to know about Dividing Zero, the prisoner was told.
Stoll agreed readily.
‘No one mentioned the program to me. Not once in all these years. Not a single person.’ Stoll’s gray prison wear hung loosely around him. His face was pale, he was short, and he was contemptuous.
‘They got me for embezzlement. They showed some discrepancy in my company’s accounts, which I explained.’
‘No one listened though. They wanted me put away. For Dividing Zero.’
He warmed up, knowing he had a captive audience in the twins and Zeb.
‘The military was scared. So were the politicians. They were interested in their own asses. I devised a brilliant program for them. Ran a pilot. And what did they do? They canned it. And imprisoned me.’
‘All these t
errorists who capture our soldiers…if my program had been alive, those captives would have no identity. The terrorists would lose their advantage.’
He slammed his hand on the table separating them. Spittle flew from his mouth. ‘Did anyone listen to me? No one.’
He laughed. A short bark that echoed in the small room.
‘Who were the program’s operatives?’ Meghan rushed in when Stoll fell silent for a moment.
He didn’t answer her. ‘The pilot was for five operatives. Only five. We erased their identities. Two went to Afghanistan. One to Africa. One in Europe. One was right here.’
Meghan bit back a sigh. ‘Who were they? Where are they now?’
‘They did their jobs. Returned. Missions successful. And then the military pulled the plug.’
‘Who were they, sir?’ Maybe some politeness will help.
It didn’t.
She pushed John Doe’s photograph across the table, towards him. ‘Is this one of the operatives?’
Stoll looked at it and frowned. ‘Could be. The guys looked similar. Average. These dudes look the same.’
‘Surely you can do better than that.’
His lips curled. ‘Try living in this place for ten years, and then tell me.’
He flicked the picture back and dismissed it from his mind.
He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. ‘You know the real reason the military shut the program down?’
‘No, sir.’ This time Meghan didn’t hold back her sigh.
‘They saw other uses for the program.’
‘Like what, sir?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ Stoll sneered and leaned back.
His expression changed when Zeb moved fractionally. The hostility drained out when he saw something in Zeb’s eyes. The anger left him. His voice became soft.
‘Civilian uses.’
His voice became fearful.
‘Dividing Zero could be used in civilian life.’
Chapter 36
The Gulfstream scoffed at the distance between Hazelton and New York and delivered its passengers back to the city of bustle and fumes in short time.
The twins hadn’t been idle on the return leg.
Stoll had smirked when he had given them the names of the five operatives. ‘Good luck with finding them.’
The operatives were given code names once they entered the program. They carried false papers when they were deployed. Those legends were erased when they returned to the U.S.
Stoll hadn’t contacted them on their return; court cases had consumed his life, and then Hazelton had become his home.
‘They could be anywhere. They could be dead,’ he taunted.
‘You know that the program was used on civilians?’ Zeb asked him quietly.
His bravado left him instantly. ‘No. It could be misused, though. That’s why the military got cold feet.’
‘You don’t have much, do you?’
‘You know more now, don’t you?’ Stoll sneered as he was led away.
Beth had set Werner loose on Stoll and Brown Spear as soon as they boarded the aircraft.
His story checked out. Dividing Zero wasn’t mentioned in any of the lurid headlines that followed his downfall, but the timelines fit.
The Rise and Fall of a Hotshot Defense Millionaire, read one article by a reputed financial journal. Beth read it, made notes, and sprawled back when she had finished.
‘He’s right?’ Meghan quirked an eyebrow at her.
‘Yeah. You found anything?’
Meghan grimaced. ‘Nope. The general says he hasn’t gotten far. Military bureaucracy. And Cover Your Ass. Chang says the suit is still not talking.’
Zeb wasn’t surprised at General Klouse’s lack of progress. ‘The defense establishment doesn’t like him. He plays it too straight. On top of that, his role is a purely advisory one.’
‘So we just leave it at that?’ Beth glared at him as he lounged in his seat. ‘John Doe could be one of those five operatives.’
‘I’m working on it,’ Zeb replied languidly.
‘Doesn’t look like it,’ Beth snorted.
Bwana was waiting for them at JFK, leaning against his ride, oblivious of the wide berth other travellers gave him.
‘This dude could be anywhere?’ He gave incredulous looks when Beth broke down their findings for him.
‘Yeah.’
He glanced out and stared at the vehicle in the next lane. ‘That guy over here, he could be one of them?’
‘Don’t start.’
They were skirting Central Park, when Zeb called out from the rear.
‘Stop.’
Bwana braked hard amidst a chorus of angry honking.
Zeb slipped out of the vehicle and walked away without a backward look.
‘Where are you going?’ Meghan yelled when they had stopped gaping.
‘To work,’ came the reply.
‘Has he always been this insufferable?’ she rolled her eyes at Bwana.
‘He has been nothing else.’
Zeb had exchanged several texts with Clare while on the flight.
I need to meet someone who knew about Dividing Zero, had been his first message to her.
Anyone?
Preferably a General. Someone who would know everything.
She had made calls, had wielded her influence, and had arranged for the meeting.
There had been conditions. The general would be unnamed in any development. The general would meet in the dark so that Zeb couldn’t identify him.
The meet would happen late at night; to give the general time to fly out from Washington D.C. Zeb would come alone to the rendezvous.
Clare didn’t tell him who the general was. Zeb didn’t ask. He agreed to all the conditions.
He caught a cab to the United Nations Headquarters, stopped it when it was on East 34th Street and exited.
He walked down FDR drive, ignoring curious looks from passing motorists, went to the riverfront and headed to a pier.
It was gated and chained.
He leapt over it and made his way over a narrow wooden bridge, to a shelter at its end.
Barges berthed at the bridge in daylight. At night time, it was deserted and lonely in the busiest city in the world.
A flashlight pointed at him when he neared and shone on his face.
To blind me.
‘That’s far enough,’ a voice called out.
He stopped.
‘Raise your hands.’
He raised them.
Two men approached him, large, muscled, carrying handguns. He sensed more men at the shelter.
The men frisked him expertly, removed his Glock, his knife, his mags. They removed his spare gun and the headpiece.
‘A walking arsenal, aren’t you?’
Zeb kept quiet.
One of the men nodded in the direction of the shelter. A shadow emerged from behind it.
The shadow didn’t approach him. The flashlight remained on his face.
‘You wanted to meet me?’
Zeb recognized the tone in the voice. It was one used to giving commands, accustomed to having them obeyed.
‘You know why,’ Zeb replied.
The voice remained silent for a moment, and then it became reflective.
‘Normally, I wouldn’t have met you. However, these aren’t normal times. I owe someone a favor. A big one.’
A cruiser wailed in the distance. One of the heavies behind Zeb tensed. He relaxed when the sound grew fainter and disappeared.
‘What’s your interest in the program?’
Zeb told him.
‘You might expose the program. How can I trust you?’
Zeb lowered his hands without permission. ‘There are a handful of people who know me. Know what I do. I suspect you know a couple of them.’
The voice didn’t reply.
‘You can ask them. They’ll tell you what I am capable of. If I wanted to expose you, we wouldn’t be meeting like t
his.’
The voice was resigned when it spoke again. ‘Someone had to hear about it one day, I guess. Dividing Zero isn’t something I’m proud of.’
It hardened. ‘You’ll disappear if this ever comes to light. Just like that. No one will know you exist.’
Zeb couldn’t help laughing. ‘Can we cut out the threats? Lots of people have tried to make me disappear.’
The voice considered him in silence. It was clipped and short when it spoke.
It reeled out five names and addresses.
Chapter 37
Meghan was logged onto Werner, early on day eighteen, giving it new instructions.
We never checked if any notable incidents went down in Toccoa and Connersville.
She brewed herself coffee while Werner searched, and when she emerged from the kitchen, her sister was in the office.
Beth had her bag slung across her shoulder, a jacket over her T-shirt and was looking at Meghan impatiently.
‘Don’t make yourself comfortable. We are going.’
Meghan took a sip. ‘Where?’
Beth’s eyes sparkled. ‘Toronto.’
‘Zeb got five names.’ Beth explained on the way down. ‘I got them from him when you were lazing on your bed.’
Meghan didn’t tell her sister about the search string. It might come to nothing.
‘I got Werner to check them out,’ Beth continued, oblivious of her twin’s silence. ‘Two of them don’t look like John Doe.’
‘So what’s in Toronto?’
‘Jerry Cusak, one of the operatives.’
‘That’s his new name?’
‘Obviously,’ Beth rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. ‘Looks like I have to do all the thinking here.’
Zeb was waiting in a vehicle when they emerged and swung out without a word after the sisters climbed inside.
‘Calling him will be easier, won’t it?’ Meghan yelled above a passing car’s honk.
‘And spook him?’ Beth retorted. ‘This dude has been living a new life. No one knows who he is. How would he react to a call out of the blue?’