Lone Wolf

by David Archer

  He didn't wait long. Noah and Sarah appeared only a couple of minutes later, with Sarah holding a pair of Kimber mini-45s, while Noah had a fifty-caliber Desert Eagle in his hand. Each of them got some extra magazines and ammunition as well, and by the time they were done, Moose and Neil had returned. Both of them declined to get new weapons, choosing instead to stick with the ones they already knew.

  They drove back to the office building, where Moose and Decker climbed out and got into their own cars. Moose would go home to pick up his bag and weapons, then meet the rest of them at Noah's place. Since Sarah spent as much time at Noah's as she did at her own apartment, she had enough clothing and toiletries there to pack for the trip, and Neil lived in a mobile home on Noah's property.

  Decker decided to just hang out with the three of them, since he had everything he needed with him already. He backed his Chevy Trailblazer out of its parking space and fell in behind the Hummer to follow it home.

  Temple Lake Road was full of curves, so much so that Decker was reminded of some of the roads farther up in the mountains. The drive out to Noah's place took almost 30 minutes, before they turned onto County Road six forty. The house was only a short distance up that road, and he followed the Hummer as Neil dropped Noah and Sarah off at the big house that sat on the property. Noah waved for Decker to park in his driveway and follow him and Sarah into the house, while Neil drove across the yard to get to his trailer.

  “Come on in, and make yourself at home. There's soft drinks and beer in the refrigerator, maybe some wine and iced tea. Choose your poison. We're going to go get packed for the trip tonight, be out in a few minutes.”

  Sarah shook her head at Noah, then walked into the kitchen and opened a cabinet door. “The glasses are in here,” she said, then turned and followed Noah into his room.

  Decker smiled, then opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Bud Light. He twisted off the top and tossed it into the trashcan, then reached up and closed the cabinet she had left open. He took a sip of the beer as he walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch. There was no sign of Noah or Sarah, and he figured it would take a little while for them to pack up their things, so he picked up the remote control that lay on the coffee table and turned on the big-screen television on the wall.

  Down the hall, Sarah had closed the door behind herself after following Noah into his room. It was no secret among the team that she often spent the night with him, nor was it a problem.

  “So,” she said, “how long before we have to leave?”

  Noah had been pulling a duffel out of his closet, but he turned at her question to look at her. Her shirt and bra were already on the floor, and she was pushing her pants down her legs.

  “Hour and a half,” he said. “Plenty of time.” He dropped the duffel on the floor, reached down and yanked back the covers, then began stripping out of his own clothes.

  Forty-five minutes later, Noah and Sarah joined Decker in the living room, where he was watching old reruns of The Beverly Hillbillies. He grinned as they entered the room, and Sarah blushed.

  “Stan,” Noah said, “is there anything you want to go over or ask, before we head out in a little while?”

  Decker shrugged. “I can't think of anything. Can you?”

  “No,” Noah said, shaking his head. “I just thought I should ask.”

  The three of them sat and watched the antics of the Clampett family for the next few minutes, and then the episode was followed by another one. Sarah and Decker chuckled at a couple of points, while Noah simply watched the show and filed the actions and reactions of the cast away in his memory. It was always possible that he could use them someday.

  Moose pulled in just before that episode ended, parked in the graveled area outside of Noah's garage and knocked on the front door. Sarah got up to let him in, and he headed for the kitchen to grab himself a soft drink, then came and sat down in the living room with the rest of them. Neil came wandering in a few minutes later, not even bothering to knock.

  “You know, Neil,” Sarah said, “it's a good thing we were expecting you. It's probably not very safe to just walk into the home of a professional killer, you know what I mean?”

  Neil flopped sideways into one of the big overstuffed chairs, and shrugged his shoulders. “If he shoots me, it just means I don't have to put up with all this crap anymore. I'm willing to take the chance, but I haven't quite decided if it's worth it or not. If it isn't, I'll make a point of coming back from the dead to let you know.”

  THREE

  Their plane landed at Nouakchott International Airport at twelve minutes before eight AM local time, and they were escorted directly into a diplomatic limousine that took them to the Hotel Halima, where each of the five was installed in a separate room on the floor reserved for the US Embassy. Ambassador Morgenstern, they were told, would meet Noah at the embassy in an hour.

  Moose and Sarah, since they would not be needed for at least a few hours, announced that they were going to relax and try to catch up on some much-needed sleep, the seats on the diplomatic airplane not being among the most comfortable they had ever used. Noah and Decker met in Noah's room to discuss the upcoming meeting with President Habib, while Neil set up his computers and began working on hacking the presidential palace network.

  “The most important questions you need to ask the president,” Decker said, “are about the phone call that told him his daughter had been kidnapped. We need to know as much as we can about the caller, such as his accent, any particular mannerisms, anything he might have let slip about himself, and about any background sounds the president might have heard. Sometimes, it's what you hear in the background that can make all the difference. Encourage him to rack his brain, try to remember any sound that may have come through the phone. Everything that he heard is there, in his memory, and all he's got to do is shake it loose.”

  “What about the daughter? Is there anything I should be asking about her?”

  “Not specifically. Donald gave me a dossier on the girl, everything that our intelligence had on her. We know that she had a tendency to shake her security detail, and seems to have done so the day she disappeared. From what we know, she was planning a day out with friends. It's doubtful he would know anything about where she might have gone prior to being taken.”

  Noah shook his head. “It wouldn't break my heart if you were able to go with me to this meeting, but apparently it was hard enough just to get me in. I'll do all I can, and go over it with you as soon as I get back. Then we...”

  They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Noah opened it to find Neil standing there. The skinny young man pushed past him as soon as the door was wide enough. “Okay, I've got a little problem,” he said. “Getting into the main network was easy, but all it really told me was that there are multiple networks there, and some of them are so secure that even I can't crack them in less than a year.”

  “Neil, you've only been at it for a few minutes,” Noah said. “Wouldn't you expect it to take a little time?”

  Neil shook his head vigorously. “You're not getting it,” he said. “Three of the networks are using a security algorithm so tight that it would take me weeks to get all the digits of the pass code. Unless I'm mistaken, we don't have that much time. There is another way, though, but it involves getting me inside that building.”

  “Explain.”

  “Okay, every network is set up by an IT guy, and every IT guy who sets up a secure network like this builds himself a back door. That's because there's always some idiot on every network who will find a way to mess it up, change the password or whatever. There has to be a permanent way to get in, one that nobody can access but the IT people. If I can get inside that building with my computer, so that my computer is trying to log on to their network, I can get that back door. That way, I can access every computer on the network from right there, and I've got a masking algorithm that will prevent anyone else from seeing that I'm logged on.”

&
nbsp; Noah looked at him for a long moment, thinking it over. “Okay, then you're going with me. All you have to do is get inside the building, right?”

  Neil nodded. “That should do it, but it would be best if I can get as close to the router as possible. Worst case, I just need to be on the same floor with it.”

  “All right, then, we'll say that you're my assistant. Then all you have to do is hope we can find a place where no one will pay attention to you while you do your thing.”

  “Got that covered, Boss. I've got a program that looks and sounds like a video game, but I can be siphoning off every bit of data on the entire network while it runs. Just park me in a chair somewhere, I'll do the rest.”

  Decker grinned at the two of them. “You guys blow my mind,” he said. “Neil, somewhere in those computers is likely to be an actual recording of the call the president got from the kidnappers. If you can find that, that would be fantastic.”

  Neil smiled broadly. “If it's there, I'll get it. We'll just have to hunt for it on my computer when I get back.”

  “Let's go, then. I'll have to explain this to the ambassador as soon as we get there.”

  Neil ran back to his room to grab the laptop he would carry into the presidential palace, and was back in less than a minute. He followed Noah down the elevator and out to the limousine that was still waiting for them. The driver raised his eyebrows at seeing two passengers instead of one, but said nothing. He held the door open for them, then got behind the wheel and put the car in gear.

  The drive to the embassy took less than fifteen minutes, and an aide met them at the door. “Gentlemen, if you will follow me,” he said, and led them to the ambassador's office.

  Dwight Henry Morgenstern was a short, stocky man, but there was a sense of power and presence about him that even Noah could feel. He shook hands with each of them in turn.

  “Good to meet you, Mister Ambassador,” Noah said. “I'm Alexander Colson and this is my assistant, Eric Starling.”

  “Mister Colson,” the ambassador said, “I was given to understand that you would be arriving alone.”

  Noah smiled. “As I told you, Eric is my assistant. He goes wherever I go. Is that a problem?”

  Morgenstern explained that the meeting Noah would be going into had been hastily arranged, and that security was tight in the presidential palace. It might not be possible for Starling to accompany him, but the two men offered no objection. Moments later, they left the embassy to meet with the President of Mauritania.

  An hour later, the meeting concluded, the limousine dropped Morgenstern off at the embassy before driving Noah and Neil back to the hotel. Neither of them mentioned Neil's computer during the ride, nor in the hotel until they were safely inside Noah's room. Noah picked up the phone to let Decker know that they were back, and the retired agent joined them a few moments later.

  “How did it go, guys?” Decker asked.

  Neil was sitting at the desk in the room, going through the files he had copied. He had plugged in a set of ear buds, and was listening to something while Noah and Decker talked.

  “I think it went pretty well,” Noah said. “The main things I got from the president were that the caller seemed to have an American accent, and that the only background sound he could remember was a loud roaring noise that seemed to come and go. He said there was also another man speaking in the background, but he didn't think there was any connection between that man and the caller. The man in the background seemed to have a British accent, may have been Welsh. He also said that it seemed the man had a scolding tone in his voice, so he may have been speaking to a child.”

  Decker closed his eyes and pursed his lips. “An American accent,” he repeated. “But the voice in the background seemed to be British? That's interesting. That sounds like the call came from somewhere very public, possibly somewhere that might be visited by tourists. That could account for the different accent of someone in the background.”

  Noah nodded his head. “I had a similar thought,” he said. “One of the most common places where you're likely to find a mixture of accents is at an airport. Apparently, the call came in a reasonably short time period, after the girl left her home, but before she met up with her friends. I wonder if perhaps she was being hustled out of the country on an airplane. Habib said the caller told him that his daughter had been taken out of Mauritania, so it's possible that the kidnappers handed her off to someone else who took her onto a plane, then called the president once the plane was airborne.”

  Decker's eyes opened, and he looked at Noah. “That's a very interesting hypothesis,” he said, “and probably better than mine. I've been given the name of the CIA station chief here, and he's supposed to give us any cooperation we need. Let me call him and see if he can get me any information about flights that left the country that day, in particular flights that might have left with a young woman who was unconscious. It's reasonable to assume that she would have been drugged before they put her on the plane, so that she could pass for a medical patient or something similar.” He took out a cell phone and dialed a number. “Mister Adcock,” he said when the phone was answered. “My name is George Russell. I was told to give you a call when I got into town, and ask you to give me some idea of the best restaurant to eat at.” He listened for a moment, then looked at his phone and tapped a code onto the dialer. “Okay, I've got it scrambled. You know who I am and why I'm here, right? Good, that will save us a lot of time. I need some information. I'm looking for flights that left the country on the day the president's daughter was abducted, flights that might have taken a young female medical patient out of the country. Actually, any flight that left the country within an hour before the president got the call, regardless of the presence of medical patients. How soon can you get me that?”

  He listened again for a moment, and then smiled. “Excellent, yes. Let me know when it's ready, and I'll put our computer guy on it.” He ended the call and looked at Noah. “He'll get me the information I asked for, and send it to my phone as a multimedia message attachment.” He glanced over at Neil. “He'll be able to open it and read it, right?”

  Noah nodded. “I guarantee it,” he said. “That kid's about the best there is with a computer, which is why he's with me. They gave me the best support team they had, and I've seen them all at work.”

  Decker smiled. “I don't doubt you,” he said, but he was interrupted before he could say any more.

  “Bingo!” Neil shouted. He snatched out his ear buds and unplugged them from the computer. “You guys gotta hear this,” he said. He tapped a couple of keys, and voices came from the speakers.

  “Marhabaan?” That was the voice of President Habib. Neil whispered, “That means hello, in Arabic.”

  Another voice spoke. “Astamae li beinaya,” it said. “Hadha hu hawl abnatik!”

  “Listen carefully,” Neil translated, “it's about your daughter.”

  “Hold it, hold it,” Noah said, and Neil paused the playback. “Are you telling me you speak Arabic?”

  Neil looked surprised at the question. “Do you know how many hackers are in the Middle East? If you don't speak Arabic, you don't ever talk to some of the best.”

  Noah's eyebrows went up, but he shrugged. “Okay, go on, then.”

  Neil resumed playing the recording, which was obviously of the call that told Habib about his daughter's abduction. There were a couple of moments of Arabic, wherein the president complained about the caller's accent, and then they switched to English.

  “Yes,” said Habib, “I can understand you now. What is this about? Where is my daughter?”

  “She's already out of the country,” said a man in what Noah would agree to be a Southern drawl. “She'll be perfectly safe, as long as you do what we want you to do.”

  There was a moment's pause, before Habib spoke again. “And what is that?”

  “Your Prime Minister is meeting with the leaders of Syria and Russia at a summit meeting in Geneva on the twenty-third. At th
at meeting, he will agree to and publicly announce a strategic alliance with both countries, an alliance that would include the construction of military bases within Mauritania, and the expulsion of Western military presence. If he does, then your daughter will be returned to you alive and in one piece. If not, then I'm afraid you'll be getting her back in several different packages. Do you understand?”

  Habib hesitated, and in the brief pause they could hear a man in the background. He did indeed sound British, as he said, “...Too late, we can't go back for it now. Come on, then, we'll just have to get you a new one, that'll be right, won't it?”

  “How do I know you truly have my daughter?” Habib asked at that point.

  The caller chuckled. “Well, how else would I know about that little birthmark she's got on her left thigh, right on the back of it, just underneath her butt? You're her daddy, I'm sure you can remember when she was a baby, that little birthmark of hers? Sorta looks like a little bird, doesn't it?”

  Another pause, and the man in the background said, “... No time for this, just no time! You should have made sure to get it before we left, we'll just...”

  “How can I contact you? The Prime Minister may wish to...”

  “You don't need to contact me,” the caller said. “All you want to do is tell the Russian ambassador that they've got a deal, that the alliance is a go. Then, once that goes public, she'll be dropped off safe and sound at your doorstep. Otherwise, her next ride will be to the butcher shop.”

  “Why are you doing this? You don't sound like a Russian or Syrian?”

  “Me? I'm neither one, I'm just an independent contractor. I got hired to do this because I've gotten results in the past. There's nothing like a proven track record to make you popular in this business, know what I mean? Like I said, do what I tell you and everything will be fine. You can count on that, but you can also count on the consequences if you don't.” The caller hung up, and a second later the line went dead.