Run and Hide

by Alan McDermott

  After hours of deliberation, Farooq had decided that Eva at least deserved to have him hear her side of the story before he called the CIA. He opened the notification window on his phone and read her message.

  It consisted of three paragraphs. The first explained why the CIA had turned on her. The second told him what she required of him. The last confirmed that she was on her way and gave him instructions to follow.

  He read the message twice. It didn’t ask for a reply, so he didn’t send one. Instead, he sat back and stared at the landline. He knew the CIA protocols well. They would have detected the data package hitting his phone and would probably be trying to decrypt the message at that very moment. That they would fail was a given, but they’d suspect it came from Eva and would be expecting a call from him.

  It all boiled down to one simple question: Who was he going to betray? Eva, who had risked her career to help his sister, or the CIA, who had enough assets to hunt him down and kill him a hundred times over?

  Farooq took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out slowly. He picked up the landline and dialed the number he’d been given.

  “West.”

  “It’s Farooq Naser. Eva Driscoll has been in touch. She’ll be here in an hour.”

  “Stay where you are. I’ll route my men into position.”

  “No. If she walks into a trap, she’ll know I turned her in. I’ll be the first person she kills. Even if she doesn’t, there’s bound to be shooting. I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire. I’m clearing out. You can tell me when it’s all over.”

  Silence greeted his outburst and Farooq worried that his request would be denied. The last thing he wanted was to be there when West’s men turned up.

  “Okay,” West said at last. “But stay close. We want to debrief you on the method of contact.”

  As Farooq had expected, they’d intercepted Eva’s message but were unable to crack the built-in algorithm.

  “Just tell your men not to destroy my place. And please let the goons in the car outside my house know that I’m leaving. I don’t want them getting trigger-happy.”

  “I’ll warn them,” West promised. “Is Driscoll coming alone?”

  “I’ve got no idea. She just said I should expect a pizza delivery. I’d assume she knows your men are here waiting for her.”

  “You’ve done the right thing, Farooq. The Agency won’t forget it. Just remember to leave the lights on when you go. I want her to think you’re still home.”

  Farooq put the phone down, disgusted by West’s false reassurances. If the CIA were so caring, they wouldn’t have canned him two years earlier. No, any employer worth their salt would have helped him battle his alcohol addiction rather than tossing him aside after years of loyal service.

  Eva hadn’t forsaken him.

  She’d helped fund his stay in the recovery clinic and visited every couple of days for three months. When he finally got clean, his debt to her had doubled.

  This had been his chance to repay her.

  With a heavy heart, Farooq began packing a go bag: in went his laptop, an address book written in a code only he could understand, a change of clothes, and several flash drives containing the tools of his trade.

  Three minutes later, he wheeled his bicycle out the front door. The occupants of the SUV across the street watched him leave, but he was pleased to see them remain inside.

  With one last look back at his house, he threw a leg over the bike’s frame and began pedaling.

  “I want all assets rerouted to New Lexington immediately!”

  The operatives sprang into action the moment they heard West bark his command. All of the teams in the region were given their new orders and the geostationary satellite was instructed to adjust its camera to focus on Farooq Naser’s home.

  West called Sanders’s man Carl Huff personally to update him on the situation. He knew Huff’s kind, and they rarely liked to work as part of a team. West wasn’t one to pander to others, but having Huff on his side was a huge bonus. It wouldn’t hurt to give him free rein, especially since he knew how Driscoll operated. Teaming Huff up with his own men would only be counterproductive.

  “Sir, Eagle Four reports movement.”

  West turned to the screen and saw Naser mounting his bicycle. “Let him go. Stay on the house.”

  “Yes, sir. Eagle Three reports ETA two hours. Eagle One and Eagle Two are three hours out.”

  “Tell them to haul ass.” He needed the extra bodies. Although it would have been nice to have the Ohio State Police set up a five-mile cordon around Naser’s home, keeping the operation covert took precedence. Besides, he had two armed men on the scene and more on the way.

  It should be enough.

  “We’ve found her,” West told Huff when the call connected. “She’s in New Lexington, Ohio. We expect her to be at Farooq Naser’s home within the hour. How close are you?”

  “Two hours out. How’d you find her?”

  West explained how Naser had called in the contact and had fled the house in advance of her arrival. “We’re expecting her to masquerade as a pizza delivery person.”

  It took Huff some time to respond to that. “Tell your men to be on their guard. She’s good.”

  “Yeah, I keep hearing that. Don’t worry, we can handle her.”

  “Try not to kill anyone before I get there. The director would like to take her in alive.”

  “That’s up to her,” West replied. “My orders come from another source.”

  “I appreciate that, but there’s no harm in making a friend of Sanders.”

  The call ended, leaving West to contemplate the options. It didn’t take long. Compared to the ESO, Sanders was merely another grunt destined to carry out the bidding of others. Earning his friendship would do squat for West’s career prospects.

  West walked over to the nearest operative. “Open a channel to Eagle Four.”

  “Done.”

  “Eagle Four, this is Nest. We need both of them, understood?”

  “Roger that, Nest.”

  “When you have positive IDs, take ’em out.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “Are you sure he’s going to come?”

  “He’ll be here,” Eva told Colback, although as the minutes ticked by, she was beginning to wonder if her faith in Farooq had been well placed.

  Of course it is, she told herself, but it hadn’t stopped her taking precautions. From where she sat, she could see down the street to the gas station. If any suspicious vehicles pulled up nearby, she would know that Farooq had betrayed her.

  “Wait! That could be him.”

  Eva saw the tall, slender man arrive on the bicycle.

  “It’s him,” she confirmed.

  “Aren’t you going to pick him up?”

  “Soon. First I want to see if he was followed.”

  They waited for five minutes before Eva started the car. If anyone were tailing Farooq, she’d have seen them by now.

  She drove to the gas station and stopped just long enough for Farooq to climb into the back seat. A CCTV camera was pointing at the car, but she’d expected as much. By the time their pursuers realized Farooq had tricked them, and tracked him to this location, running the license plates would be futile.

  “You never mentioned having company,” a nervous Farooq said as he eyed Colback in the front passenger seat.

  “Farooq, meet Rees. Rees, Farooq.”

  The men shook hands but Farooq remained wary. “So, now that I’ve thrown my life away, what do you need?”

  “Aren’t you going to ask what we’re supposed to have done?” Colback asked, as Eva pulled away.

  “It’d probably be a lie,” Farooq said. “I know how these people work.” He looked at Eva. “So, what do you need?”

  “A few things. First, everything you can find on a soldier named Leo Hurwitz. Rees will fill you in. And by the way: I’m really sorry I dragged you into this.”

  “It’s the business we w
ork in. Plus, I owe you.”

  He left it at that as he took the laptop from his bag and connected it to his phone. Colback gave him details of Hurwitz’s unit and the date of his death. “Specifically, we’re looking for a connection to anyone in high office.”

  After a few minutes, Farooq shook his head. “I checked the CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, and Pentagon databases. Hurwitz was the only child of Edwin and Mary Hurwitz, from Brady, Texas. Edwin died earlier this year; Mary is a retired waitress.”

  Colback slapped the dashboard. “Damnit.”

  “If you tell me what this is about, I might be able to help,” Farooq offered.

  It took Eva twenty minutes to recap the events of the last few days, during which time Farooq’s eyes seldom left his laptop screen.

  “In addition to finding out why someone wants to kill Colback and the rest of his team, I need you to be our eyes and ears. If their satellite is watching us, I need to know about it. I’d have done it myself, but my access will have been locked down by now.”

  “I can do better than that,” Farooq said. “How does access to their command center sound?”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope. Each bureau has its own self-contained network, but in order to share data and interrogate each other’s databases they created bridges. Linked information highways. All I need to do is find out which terminals are monitoring the satellite data feed over New Lexington and gain access to the LAN. Once I’m in, I can deploy Sonia.”

  “Sonia?” Colback asked.

  “He gives all of his worms women’s names,” Eva explained. “Tell us what she does.”

  “All of the agencies use digital signals to communicate with people in the field. The person’s voice feeds into a computer and gets scrambled before being sent over the air. This prevents anyone listening in. What Sonia does is copy the voice message before encryption and convert it to text. She also intercepts incoming transmissions. We’ll know everything they say to each other.”

  “We can stay one step ahead of them forever,” said Colback, smiling for the first time in days, it seemed.

  “Not really,” said Eva. “If we evade them enough times, they’ll realize their comms are compromised. Once they start digging, they’ll find Sonia. Besides, running isn’t the answer. We have to make them call off the chase.”

  “How do you plan to do that?” Farooq asked.

  “We find out who ordered the hits on Rees’s team and take them out. Unfortunately, that’s not the kind of thing they record on their systems.”

  “We have a starting point,” Farooq told her. “The man I spoke to was called West. He must have received orders from someone. Give me a minute to check the NSA database for all calls to and from his cell phone.”

  It took longer than promised but Farooq soon had a list of numbers on his screen. “I’ve got a couple of phones registered to Homeland Security, one unregistered cell, and one blocked number from West’s cell phone.”

  “Blocked?”

  “The number wasn’t recorded on the NSA database. Trust me, they record everything, so it must take some serious pull to have your number withheld. It must be the ESO.”

  “That doesn’t do us much good,” said Colback.

  “Maybe it does,” said Eva. “Can you pinpoint West’s location?” she asked Farooq.

  “Sure, though I’m telling you now, it’s Henry Langton. He’s the head of the ESO.”

  “You’ve been saying that for the last few years and I keep telling you, you read too many conspiracy theory blogs. Langton is a rich recluse, nothing more. No one bent on sucking the population dry would donate hundreds of millions to charitable causes like he does.”

  “A smoke screen, nothing more.”

  Eva was bored with the conversation. “Just pull West’s record in the personnel files. We need to know what he looks like.”

  “Sounds like you plan to get up close and personal with him.”

  “Unless you can hack into his phone, it might be our only option. The NSA didn’t record the blocked number but it’ll be in his cell’s log.”

  Farooq’s fingers went to work, but he ended up shaking his head. “No way in. You’ll need the handset.”

  “Then find out where he is. Once you’ve done that, check the CIA database for an Andrew Harvey.”

  They were now on US-22, with a full tank and clear roads ahead. As Farooq worked his magic, Colback asked Eva what her immediate plans were.

  “If Harvey’s still with MI5, I’ll need a new look and fake passport. If not, we’ll need to recruit some people locally. Fortunately, I can find both in Tennessee.”

  “Why do you need a new look to call this Harvey guy?”

  “I don’t. I’m going to meet him.”

  Colback shifted in his seat to face her. “You’re going to fly to England? The most wanted fugitive in the United States is going to walk into an airport and get on a plane? Are you crazy?”

  “A little, but that’s another story. Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.”

  Colback was markedly uncomfortable with the idea. “What about us?” he asked, flicking a hand between himself and Farooq. “What if you don’t make it?”

  “I’ll be back. In the meantime, just lie low. I’ll be gone a couple of days at the most. Anyway, it’s all moot if Andrew’s no longer with MI5.”

  “He is,” Farooq announced. “I got into the station account at the US embassy in London. Andrew Harvey, age forty-one, engaged to Sarah Louise Thompson, also with MI5. They have a daughter, Alana, four months old. Their wedding is planned for next May. I’ve got an address for the place they rent in Notting Hill.”

  “Then I’m heading to London,” Eva said. “The fact that they have a child together gives me an edge.”

  “You’re not going to threaten her, are you?”

  Eva looked at Farooq in the rearview mirror. “I’m hurt that you’d suggest such a thing. No, just a little emotional blackmail.”

  “Good,” said Farooq. “You can save the torture for Anton West. He’s currently in Homeland Security’s Bethesda office. Or you could take him at his home in Olney.”

  “You’re sure that’s the West who contacted you?”

  “One hundred percent. I checked a log of his calls and matched the voice to the one I spoke to. It’s him.”

  Driscoll checked her mirror but the road behind was clear. “I was going to ask you to run some mug shots of the people who attacked my place, but there’s no need now. Rees, keep thinking about why you and your teammates needed killing. Farooq, start by pulling their files and checking for recent entries.”

  “Already got them open,” Farooq said. “The only entry in the last few weeks was on Ron Elphick’s record. It mentions the death of Adrian Holmes. Just going to cross-reference the files . . .”

  “And?” Colback asked.

  “Holmes is a journalist. Or was. Worked for the Washington Post until three years ago, then quit to set up his own website. Apparently, the Post wasn’t keen to run his stories as they got a little close to the truth. His forte was exposing illegal activities within the government. Looks like he chased one story too many. He fell asleep in his bathtub and drowned.”

  “He didn’t fall asleep,” Eva said. “He was forced to ingest a muscle relaxant that made it impossible to move. That’s why there were no signs of a struggle.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because I made him swallow it. He was my most recent hit.”

  “Oh, that’s just great,” groaned Colback. “We finally get a lead and you killed him?”

  “It’s what I do,” Eva said. “I had no way of knowing he’d end up being connected to Jeff’s murder.”

  “Then please tell me you got information out of him first.”

  “That wasn’t part of the mission,” she told him as she tried to control her anger. It was one thing to kill her brother, but to use her to obfuscate the trail was beyond contempt. Her la
st shreds of loyalty to the CIA evaporated as she gripped the wheel tightly. “Find the connection between Elphick and Holmes. And we’re going to need money. Lots of it.”

  “Cash isn’t a problem. Just tell me how much you need.”

  “More than you’ve managed to save over the years,” Eva said. “I’m thinking half a million if we’re to recruit quality help.”

  “I can get you ten times as much in the next few minutes. Just tell me where to send it.”

  “What’re you gonna do,” Colback said, “cash in your 401(k)?”

  “Not quite,” Farooq answered, without a trace of humor. “You ever heard of Air America?”

  “The movie?”

  “Well, yeah, that was based loosely on true events. Actually, it was an airline set up by the US government in 1950 as a dummy corporation for CIA operations in China, but it’s mostly remembered for transporting opium from Laos. The Hmong population needed the hard currency the poppy harvest brought in, but some in the CIA wanted their own slice of the action. More and more of the drug made its way stateside, and once the hierarchy saw the profits to be made, it soon became their number-one source of income. They created a network of front companies to hold the cash.”

  “Those things still exist today?” asked Colback.

  “Not only the companies, but the money. I have a list of every bank account linked to the front organizations and I’ve been working on a program that will siphon off a couple of hundred dollars a week from each company—and there are over a hundred of them—but I’m months away from finishing it. The plan was to fund my retirement and I needed to make the money untraceable. Obviously, we don’t have time for stealth now. Let me know how much you need and it’ll be in your account in minutes.”

  “How much are we talking about?” Colback asked.

  “If you want it all, about seven billion dollars, but big withdrawals will trigger alarms. I could take fifty grand from each account and no one would know until they got their bank statements.”

  “Then do it.” Eva gave him the number for the Cayman account that she’d committed to memory. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll be on the run for the rest of our lives, so get as much as you can.”