Death of a Pharaoh

  “Frank? Jim Stevenson. I need everything you can get me on the Sullivan prison break.”

  “OK. When?”

  “Yesterday,” he emphasized. “Send it to my fax. Let’s meet tomorrow for lunch.” It wasn’t a suggestion, “Usual time and place.”

  If it turned out to be true that the Falcon Foundation organized the prison break, he was impressed with their operational skills. It took superior logistics, major cash and enviable contacts to spring the two cons. Stevenson wondered why there were two. What was the relationship with the white guy?

  He shuffled through the stack of newspapers on his desk and found yesterday’s article with the latest on the FBI investigation. The mention of the third man, a correctional officer, fascinated him. The authorities now considered him a person of interest. Stevenson’s intuition told him the prison guard was part of the plan and not a hostage or his body would have turned up on the banks of a river somewhere. His gut feeling was that they were in Philadelphia. They would have them well hidden. He assumed they wouldn’t dare take the boy to the old woman’s apartment since it was under surveillance and his men were watching the foundation’s headquarters 24/7.

  Stevenson needed to find a flaw in their line of defense. He’d wait for the files from his FBI contact. The situation was too fluid for her people to have thought of everything. They were vulnerable and he would discover their weakness. His day was looking brighter already. He rang for coffee.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was over a week since the dramatic breakout from Sullivan and life in the Presidential, or perhaps better named ‘Royal’ suite, assumed a certain normalcy. Zach was busy learning to be a bodyguard and spent every day with Ethan at a facility that the Foundation rented for training purposes. Ryan passed most of his time in the office studying up on commodities trading and the history of the Servants of Ma’at. The extent of the organization’s reach impressed him, with members in almost every country of the world, often at the highest levels of government and industry. The days were long and intense and he was lucky to have Zach with him every night for dinner and maybe a movie on the television. He wasn’t certain if he would have coped without his friend’s laidback Midwestern way of looking at things.

  Still, he felt he had replaced one prison cell with another, albeit much classier. Ryan had not left the hotel since their arrival while investigators at the Foundation struggled around the clock to learn everything they could about the people they assumed were behind his grandmother’s murder. Computer experts, several of whom also worked for Homeland Security, discovered the backdoor set up by a notorious hacker known as ‘Black Rhino’ that allowed him to infiltrate their system. A jogger encountered his body impaled on a fence not far from his home where police discovered the decapitated corpse of his invalid mother. The Medical Examiner found DNA of the killer, in the form of semen, in her mouth and throat. Tragically, in two different rooms. Searches hadn’t encountered any match so far.

  The fact that one very sick killer murdered the hacker on the same day the Foundation shut down the compromised server, was more than coincidence. Forensic accountants traced a series of monthly payments to the hacker, dating back more than a decade, from an offshore account in the Cayman Islands in the name of Dmitri Sonkin, a professor at Mellon Carnegie University. A team of agents set up discreet surveillance the next day. They sublet a condo only two doors down the hall from the Professor’s that permitted the installation of sophisticated listening devices that picked up conversations from vibrations in glass windows.

  Phone records showed several calls from a number in New Jersey belonging to a shady lawyer named Jim Stevenson, a known mafia surrogate in the nineties. He’d kept his nose clean for more than a decade but investigators at the Foundation flagged monthly return trips to London. The flights coincided with fine wine auctions since he had a reputation as a connoisseur with a substantial private collection. Herbert’s investigators were more interested in the long meetings he attended at a private gentlemen’s club in the City. Someone had erected an impregnable veil of secrecy around the identity of the participants and Herbert Lewis sensed the gatherings had nothing to do with Cabernet.

  Herbert briefed Ryan daily on the latest developments including the identification of an associate of the lawyer’s, a suspected mafia hit man, with a long list of aliases currently living in New Jersey under the name, Vinnie Morelli. His description matched that of a man seen by several witnesses in Cedar Park on the day his grandmother died. Herbert was confident they had found the assassin. He’d assured Ryan over lunch in the suite that they’d have the complete picture before his coronation in November.

  That evening, Zach provided Ryan with an excuse for both of them to escape their 5-star prison. Sunday was his kid brother’s twelfth birthday and he wanted to know if he could mention it to Ethan and determine if there was any way to see him.

  “Does he like baseball?” Ryan asked.

  “Diehard Yankees fan.”

  “Let me work on it. I went to the stadium with my Dad two years ago and there are all these luxury suites that companies rent. They might be private enough.”

  “That would be amazing.”

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Lewis,” he promised, “the Foundation must have some good contacts.”

  The next day, Herbert came back with a plan. He arranged to rent a suite from an investment firm friendly with the Foundation. It had room for a party of twelve. Security from the Servants of Ma’at had been watching the house of Zach’s mother since the day after the breakout and Ricky called his older brother every week on a secret cellphone number. Getting a message through would not be a problem. The foundation sent a letter to Ricky’s school announcing that he was one of several students selected by a charity to attend the next Yankees game against the Toronto Blue Jays. There was a ticket for his mother as well. A limo would pick them up the morning of the game.

  Ryan also requested that Herbert arrange the attendance of his friend, Tony Zamora, and his adopted brother, a young fellow named Manuel who lived in Texas. As always, Herbert was the epitome of discretion and didn’t ask for an explanation. During his last visit to the prison, Tony and Ryan had agreed on a secret code word that would legitimize any communication between them. Tony thought it would come in handy someday. Only, he’d assumed that he’d be the one trying to get a message to Ryan in prison, not the other way around. Ryan was confident he’d show.

  The rental of the luxury suite came with underground parking and private elevator access but Ryan and Zach would still wear disguises. Agents of the foundation had already advanced the venue and they dropped hints that the tight security was due to the presence of the young son of a Middle Eastern Head of State. The fact that the game coincided with the 71st Annual United Nations General Assembly that attracted many world leaders, added credence to their apparent breach of protocol. Apart from three Falcon Foundation security agents, the internal guest list included Ryan, Zach, Ricky and Zach’s mother. Tony Zamora had confirmed as did Manuel and his foster mother Anna. Ethan and David the Sensei completed the dozen. Herbert Lewis would coordinate from the Command Center under the Falcon Foundation.

  Ethan led the final security briefing in the suite the evening before the game. Zach acted very professional to reflect his new role but as soon as everyone left, he was like a three year old on a sugar high and almost made it impossible for either of them to sleep. The hotel had installed two queen beds in Ryan’s bedroom so they could be together. Zach had to promise not to touch Ryan’s pillows.

  Zach and Ryan, accompanied by Ethan and David, departed the hotel at 9.00 AM in a three-car motorcade heading for Philadelphia International Airport. An hour earlier, they received confirmation that Manuel and Anna were in route to La Guardia on a commercial flight. Agents would meet them on arrival and escort them to the stadium. A limo would pick up Ricky and his mother in thirty minutes.

  Jim Stevenson was busy reviewing surveillance reports over breakf
ast when he received a call from the ex-New York City cop he’d hired to keep an eye on Zach Adams’ little brother. It wasn’t an easy task, the place was crawling with everyone from State Troopers to FBI agents. It was probably the safest neighborhood in America right now.

  “Jim, the kid is on the move. He and his mother just got into a Town Car with NYC livery plates.”

  “Did he have the bag with him?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Stevenson was certain that the boy represented a way through the Foundation’s security so he’d organized the planting of a GPS transmitter in the backpack the boy carried everywhere he went. It presented a risk of discovery but it had paid off.

  “He was wearing a Yankees cap and a jersey.”

  “Hold one minute.”

  Stevenson turned to his laptop and performed a Google search for the Yankees schedule. They were playing the Toronto Blue Jays in the Bronx starting at 1.00 pm. He switched programs. The tracking device showed Ricky and his mother heading south on Route 87 toward Manhattan. That had to be it!

  “Keep an eye on the house, I’ll take care of it from here,” he ordered then hung up.

  He didn’t have time to organize an attack but he had a better idea. It wasn’t a permanent solution but if the grandson was back in custody, he couldn’t go to Africa. Stevenson dialed his FBI contact who had been feeding him valuable information on the prison break investigation.

  “Hey Frank, want to become a goddam hero?”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Yankee Stadium, 1 E 161 St, Bronx, New York: 12:27 EDT September 25, 2016

  Tony waited for his friend in the lounge just outside the luxury suite. Herbert Lewis left his name with security at the entrance. Ryan saved the introductions until they were safely inside and out of sight.

  “I was happy to get your message,” Tony confessed, “I’ve been going crazy since I saw the escape on TV.”

  “You would have managed it sooner,” Ryan stated. “Hope you like baseball?”

  “You kidding, I used to come here all the time,” Tony explained. “It was the only place I could walk around with a baseball bat and nobody would call the cops.”

  “Let me introduce you to my friends,” Ryan offered.

  “This is my ex-cellmate and close buddy, Zach.”

  Zach waved.

  “The old guy over there is my Sensei, David and Ethan is the CO who helped get us out of Sullivan. They and the suits with the things in their ears all worked for my grandmother.”

  “Didn’t even know you had one,” Tony observed.

  “Neither did I.”

  One of the guards reacted to a message and opened the door.

  A young teenager bolted into the room yelling, “Tonio, Tonio.”

  Tony recovered from his shock in time to scoop Manual up in a big hug. A smiling Anna joined in and the three of them were soon jabbering away in Spanish while the rest of them stood back grinning over the impact of the surprise.

  They’d barely recovered from the emotion when the guard touched his ear again then moved to the door. Zach looked at Ryan with nervous anticipation.

  Ricky sprinted into his arms with such force that the two of them almost toppled over the balcony into Yankee Stadium. Zach’s Mom gasped when she saw her eldest son.

  “Zach, how could you do such a stupid thing?” she asked. “The police are watching the house 24 hours a day. There’s a million dollar…”

  Zach cut her off, “Mom, not now please! Today is for Ricky. OK?”

  She swallowed her next criticism like a wad of chewing gum.

  The caterer arrived to set out a selection of hotdogs, hamburgers and pretty well everything else two kids could want to eat. Zach was the first in line.

  “You must be his friend, Ryan?” Zach’s Mom asked him as they watched the boys pile heaps of food on their plates.

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “So what are you two going to do now?”

  “Watch the game!” Ryan replied. “Almost time for the first pitch,” he added with a smile.

  Shrieks of laughter accompanied the action on the field. There were cries of excitement when the home team scored a run and groans whenever a Yankee player struck out. Ricky discovered the powerful binoculars under his seat and found great joy in watching the players up close.

  “Derek Jeter just spit,” he announced with disgust.

  At the seventh inning stretch, David offered to take Ricky and Manuel to get some Yankees souvenirs. That way the caterer could sneak in the surprise birthday cake.

  “Anyone wants a Derek Jeter jersey?” he asked. It was a dumb question. Zach’s Mom volunteered to go along. One of the security agents trailed behind.

  The rest of them waited for the cake to arrive. Seconds later Ethan froze.

  “My Lord, we’ve been discovered,” he announced, “the garage is crawling with FBI. We have to get out of here!”

  “What about the kids?”

  “David will get them to safety.”

  “Follow me, I know a staircase only used by staff,” Tony assured them.

  “Anna, qúedate aquí, no te pasará nada,” Tony assured her as they ran out of the suite.

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “Wait!” Zach yelled, “Ricky’s backpack, he left it inside.”

  He ran back to get it then they all sprinted for the staircase behind Tony.

  Two minutes later, they burst out of a door marked ‘Employees Only’ into the main concourse on the ground level. Thousands of fans milled about.

  “Get ready to run for that exit,” Ethan pointed. “Stay together,” he warned.

  An elevator in the far wall opened discharging half a dozen feds. One of them pointed in their direction.

  Ethan took out his gun and fired six shots into the ceiling. The sound had the desired effect and within seconds, a stampede erupted for the doors. Ryan and the others mixed with the panicked crowd. They didn’t look back until they were past the turnstiles in the nearby MTA station. Ethan was on the phone with Herbert in the Command Center.

  “Buy tickets for Grand Central Station on Line 4,” he shouted over the noise.

  They made it to the train just as the doors were closing. Ethan held them open with his body to the annoyance of the conductor. Everyone breathed again when the train pulled out of the station.

  “They’ll review the tapes from the security cameras and in five minutes they’ll know the train we’re on,” Ethan assured them.

  “We can’t get off at Grand Central, they’ll have it surrounded,” Tony added.

  “That’s why we’re leaving at 77th Street,” Ethan smiled. “Herbert is arranging two cars to pick us up at the street entrance. They should get there about two minutes before we arrive.”

  They saw them parked at the curb as soon as they burst out the exit. Ryan, Zach and Tony piled into the back of the first car with Ethan in the front passenger seat. The two remaining security agents ran to the second vehicle.

  “Take a left on Lexington then left again on 76th,” he instructed both drivers.

  He turned toward the back seat.

  “My Lord, we’ve activated our emergency evacuation plan. They’re fuelling the jet now. Ricky and Manuel are safe with David. Anna is being questioned by the police.”

  Tony turned to Ryan. “I don’t understand what’s happening but if Manuel is safe then take me with you.”

  Ethan nodded his agreement then spoke to the driver. “Turn right on 2nd Avenue.”

  “Hey guys, you better look at this,” Zach warned.

  He pointed out the back window. A dozen vehicles with lights flashing were closing fast.

  “Shit, we must have a bug.”

  It was only the second time Ryan had ever heard Ethan swear.

  “Does anyone have anything from the suite?” he asked.

  “Only Ricky’s backpack,” Zach confirmed.

  “Dump it!” he shouted then quickly changed his mind. “No
wait.”

  “Falcon Command, hold one,” he spoke into his cellphone. He started to bark commands into his radio.

  Ryan admired his multi-tasking ability.

  “Zach, when we go around the next corner. The chase car will come alongside and you’ll have to hand them the backpack. You’ll only have a few seconds until the cops can see us again. You can do it!”

  The driver careened around the corner and the second car moved parallel barely missing a collision with a taxi. Zach leaned out the window with the backpack in his hand. The guard in the other car just managed to grab one strap and pull it in when the wall of lights appeared around the corner behind them.

  “Falcon Command, give us ten seconds then have them cut the street.”

  The driver turned right on 1st Avenue in front of the UN building. They were going the wrong way on a one-way street. Ryan buckled his seatbelt. The car swerved right to avoid a head-on collision with a garbage truck. Ethan concentrated his attention on the entrance to the UN building. The pursuers were gaining.

  The instant he saw two motorcycles pull out he yelled to the drivers, “Gun it!”

  They shot by the entrance to the UN just as traffic police blocked the street with barricades. A motorcade sped into the intersection almost colliding with the oncoming Feds. Within seconds, two dozen men were out of their cars with guns drawn. State Department and Jordanian security reacted instantly creating an armed standoff that looked like it was going to end in a gun battle.

  “Who was that?” Ryan asked as he craned his neck to watch the rapidly receding scene.

  “Your servant the King of Jordan decided to make an emergency exit from the General Assembly,” Ethan responded. “Herbert pulled it together just in time.”