Mike parked the truck between two old colonial houses. The roads were absolutely dreadful, and without an SUV, Mike wasn’t sure they would have managed them. They both were wearing dark clothing under military-style green ponchos and carried their firearms in a fanny pack. Lisa had also brought two pair of binoculars. The plan they had laid out in the truck was simple enough. They would approach the hotel on foot, trying not to be seen. Lisa had suggested they stay away from the road and make their advance using the partially wooded area west of the Country Lodge. I would have made the same recommendation, thought Mike. Good for her.
Because she had studied the map, she also took the lead. They had gone less than a hundred meters when she signaled her husband to stop. Mike immediately put a knee down, listening and watching for any threats. Lisa slowly pointed to her left and gestured that someone was walking on the road seventy meters to his left. Mike gently brought his binoculars to eye level. What he saw surprised him.
“Unbelievable,” whispered Mike. “I think it’s Mohammad Alavi.”
Through her binocs, Lisa was watching a man walking with an umbrella. “You sure? It doesn’t look like him.”
“C’mon, Lisa, it’s him. He’s been on the list for a long time. Trust me.”
Mike could see his wife considering what he’d just said. “It makes sense, especially if Peter Georges—aka Alexander Shamrock—is here,” Lisa finally agreed. “What do you want to do?”
“We need to find out in which room he’s staying,” said Mike. “And I want him alive. If he’s with the Sheik, he might know where my father is.”
Lisa nodded her consent.
“I’ll follow while you stay behind.” He was already up and ready to go when his wife warned him to stay down. “Don’t move! Sniper! Shooter is on the second-floor window, third from the left. Seen?”
“Damn it. Seen,” replied Mike, hoping he hadn’t been made.
“What the hell is going on here?” wondered Lisa aloud. “Do you think Alavi’s the target?”
“Don’t know.”
The sniper was well concealed, and Mike was grateful his wife had spotted him. Only the glinting barrel could be seen. I knew she was a natural.
“I don’t think the sniper is here to take out Alavi,” Mike said. “If he was, he would have taken the shot already.”
“Agreed,” Lisa replied, who was now scanning the other windows and balconies of the hotel. “He’s a backup of some sort.”
“Why set up here, though?” Mike asked, looking around him. “There’s nothing of value around here.”
“Why don’t we ask him?” Lisa suggested. “I’m sure I could gain access to his room easily.”
Didn’t Nice teach her anything?
“Bad idea, honey,” said Mike. “We don’t know what we’re facing here. We better take it slow and make sure we know what we’re getting into.”
Lisa took a few seconds to answer. “All right,” she finally said. “I’ll position myself so I can see the front entrance.”
Mike gave her his blessing. “Give me a sitrep once you’re there.”
While his wife angled toward the other side of the hotel, Mike tried to get a visual of the sniper. He and Lisa had definitely stumbled upon something. The question was what?
“Mike, I’m in position,” Lisa said, breaking into Mike’s thoughts.
“What do you see?”
“The main entrance has a small porch, but nobody’s out. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of valet or bellman either. Two other single doors are also visible on this side of the hotel.”
“Okay. Thanks, hon. Now let’s stay put for a while. I have the impression something will be going down.”
CHAPTER 46
Concentration was everything. One second of inattention could ruin weeks of planning. Fortunately, Alavi was quite good at these types of operations, and his focus never wavered. He remained calm when the two Range Rovers appeared in his binoculars. Even though the vehicles’ side windows were tinted, Alavi was able to look past the man in the passenger seat and identify Major Taylor. He was surprised that Taylor himself was driving the lead vehicle, but that didn’t change anything in terms of his plan. Furthermore, the major would himself absorb most of the blast created by the explosions. And if that didn’t kill him, the Claymore would do it.
Alavi smiled. He was ready.
As Taylor’s motorcade reached the kill zone, Alavi calmly pressed the preprogrammed buttons on the cell phones. Nothing happened. Alarmed, Alavi pushed the buttons a second time, knowing that his chances of success were evaporating.
Nothing! He cursed loudly in Arabic. This can’t be happening!
He couldn’t believe it. What had gone wrong? He had checked and rechecked everything. It was now too late to even use the Claymore, as the two vehicles were already well past its range.
What now?
A sick feeling filled his stomach and traveled up his throat.
He used his binoculars to follow the motorcade for the last three hundred meters leading up to the hotel. That’s when he saw the two antennas on top of each Range Rover.
―
The moment Omar Al-Nashwan spotted the two Rovers in his scope he knew they were in trouble. He recognized the antennas the instant he saw them. Adding to his frustration, he didn’t have a shot at Taylor because he was partially hidden by the man seated in the passenger seat. An impossible shot. He cursed himself. This was all his fault.
He’d been the one who had recommended that Major Taylor add cell phone jamming devices to his motorcade. However, two years ago, Taylor hadn’t been interested, stating that they were difficult to use and that he didn’t want to attract the attention of would-be assassins to his otherwise unmarked vehicles.
Al-Nashwan slammed his fist into the hotel bed. Fuck me!
Taylor must have installed the jammers himself. Al-Nashwan took another look through his scope and groaned. Whoever Taylor had commissioned had made sure to get the most powerful jammers on the market.
The way the jammers operated was actually quite simple. The jammer transmitted a signal on the same frequency and at the same power as a cell phone. The result was that the signals canceled each other out. Some higher-end cell phones were designed to add power if they experienced low-level interference, so jammers were built to recognize this and match the power increase. Plus, cell phones usually used two frequencies: one for speaking and one for listening. Depending on the jammer, it could block either one or both of these frequencies.
Al-Nashwan didn’t waste any time. He would have to follow plan B. While disassembling his rifle, he dialed Alavi’s cell phone. The call didn’t go through. Al-Nashwan rolled his eyes at his own stupidity and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Within twenty seconds, the rifle was slipped back in the gym bag and the pistol was stowed in a holster hidden under a blue short-sleeve shirt. He had to hurry and speak with Alavi. He pushed the four-drawer chest out of the way, then exited his room and ran down the hall.
―
Lisa had just advised him that there was nothing new to report, when Mike said, “I have two black Range Rovers approaching from the west. Traveling speed is under thirty kilometers an hour. Follow-up truck is in defensive position.”
His wife didn’t reply.
Mike switched his binoculars back to the sniper’s position. Sniper’s barrel isn’t moving. That means he’s not looking for new targets; he knows what his target looks like. “You should have visual on the motorcade in twenty seconds.” Why the hell isn’t she acknowledging?
Mike wondered if the trucks weren’t the targets. He half-expected to hear the rifle go off, but the small convoy rolled by without incident. His PDA suddenly vibrated in his pocket. Lisa had sent him a text message.
We’re being jammed. Motorcade now in position in front of lobby.
10-4, Mike t
exted back.
Mike scanned the area for other vehicles and didn’t see any. He then focused on the sniper’s position, only to realize he couldn’t see the barrel anymore.
I can’t see the sniper anymore. He either relocated or he hauled ass.
I think we should go in, Mike.
Not yet, Lisa. We need to let headquarters know what’s going on. Stand by while I contact them.
Mike was no fool. He knew Lisa was itching to go in. Her failure to neutralize the suicide bomber at the Nice airport all by herself had surely left her wanting another shot. Mike appreciated how tactically sound Lisa had become. Seeing the sniper before me being the case in point. The challenge was to keep her leashed until the time came to set her loose.
Knowing his Skype account didn’t work on the same band, Mike rapidly launched his application and used its Internet connection to link with IMSI. “Anna, this is Mike,” he said seconds later.
“What’s your status, Mike?”
“Lisa and I are standing by at the Country Lodge. We think Mohammad Alavi is on location as well.”
“Wait a sec, Mike,” said Anna. “I’ll patch the director in.”
Seconds later, Mike heard Charles Mapother’s voice. “Are you sure it’s Alavi?”
“Ninety percent certainty, sir.”
Mike let Mapother weigh the different options available to them.
All of a sudden, Lisa came on the air. “For some reason, they aren’t jamming the frequencies anymore. Men are pouring out of the Range Rovers.”
Mike advised Mapother to stay on the line as Lisa was communicating with him.
“I see seven men,” Lisa continued. “All are dressed in dark blue suits over white shirts with the exception of one who’s sporting a black suit. They’re clearly packing.”
“What type of weapons?” Mike asked.
“My guess is they’re carrying pistols. I don’t see any other kind of weapons. No one is carrying any bags either. Two of them have now assumed protective duties around the man wearing the black suit while two others entered the hotel. They look like they know what they’re doing.”
Mike relayed the new information to Mapother.
“You’re the man on the ground, Mike, but if you believe you can take down Alavi and Peter Georges, you have the go-ahead.”
The opportunity was too good to pass up. If they could confirm that both Alavi and Alexander Shamrock were there, he and Lisa had to kill them.
But not before I have a good chat with them. Either one could be the key to finding my father.
“Lisa, headquarters gave us the green light.”
“Excellent.”
“But we kill only in self-defense, okay? I’d love to know what they know about my father’s whereabouts.”
“Of course, Mike. Don’t worry, we’ll grab one of them.”
I wish.
“You said earlier there were two other doors leading to the hotel. Do you think we could breach them without being seen?”
“Easy enough. Should take less than a minute,” Lisa confirmed. “By the way, except for the two drivers, the whole party is now inside the hotel.”
“Good. I’ll approach the doors while you keep an eye on the bad guys.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Lisa answered, excitement filling her voice.
―
Alavi’s confusion didn’t last long. He had pretty much come to the same conclusion as Al-Nashwan. He wondered briefly why Allah hadn’t allowed his plan to succeed. Maybe he wants me to prove my worthiness in some other way.
His options were limited. Without a firearm, there was no way he could take out the major’s security detail without being killed. He was outnumbered, and he had lost the advantage of surprise. His only hope was that Taylor’s goons would be the same he had helped to train and, out of familiarity toward him, would let their guard down. He tried to place himself in their situation. What would he do? They probably believed that any threat to the major would come from the outside and not from the man whom their boss had traveled so far to see. Their instructions would probably be to pay more attention to the employees and other guests in the hotel than to him. He would just have to play it by ear and hope that a suitable opportunity would arise.
Alavi took a deep breath. He’d have to go down to the lobby to greet his VIPs, or else the setup might look suspicious. After unlocking the dead bolt and cracking the door, he removed the surgical gloves he was still wearing. When he looked up, he was in no way prepared for what he saw in the doorway.
―
With Lisa covering him from twenty-five meters away, Mike sprinted to one of the metal doors. He had no idea where the door would lead, but it was the only way to enter covertly. He had just reached the door when it burst open. His reflexes allowed him to place his arm in between his head and the opening door, but Mike was pushed away. A man wearing the white uniform of a cook and holding a cigarette in his hand walked out. He was surprised to see Mike and asked him what he was doing there.
Without thinking, Mike punched the man in the solar plexus and followed with an elbow strike to the head. The man crumbled to the ground, unconscious. Mike looked at Lisa and signaled her to come over.
“What the hell?” Lisa said, looking at the cook lying in the dirt.
“He came out of nowhere! Couldn’t take any chances,” Mike replied, already using his bootlaces to bind the wrists and ankles of the man he had knocked out. “Let’s put him in the bushes over there.”
They grabbed the man by his feet and shoulders and carried him to the spot Mike indicated.
“Let’s go,” Mike said, once the man was hidden.
They ran back to the door that Lisa had kept open with a rock jammed in the doorframe, then entered an empty kitchen where a pot of water was boiling. Mike turned off the gas.
“This door leads directly to the lobby,” advised Lisa, peeking through the door’s small window. “Our friends are there.”
“All of them?” asked Mike, approaching the window.
“I think so,” his wife replied, leaving her spot. “Take a look.”
The four bodyguards had positioned themselves around the man wearing the black suit. Mike could see the leader was annoyed. His demeanor was one of impatience and irritation. He was a man clearly used to being in charge, and he didn’t like to wait on anyone.
“Who are these guys?” Mike whispered.
“No clue. But they are carrying heat, and they look like they mean business.”
“We need to find out if they have anything to do with Alavi and Shamrock.”
“If they leave the lobby, I can have a chat with one of the drivers,” Lisa suggested. “He’ll tell me what we need to know.”
“It might come to that,” Mike replied. “But we would have to do it together. There are two of them.”
Lisa placed her hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Then we wouldn’t know where they’re going in the hotel. You need to follow these guys. I can take care of the drivers myself, Mike. Trust me.”
―
Omar Al-Nashwan had just arrived in front of Alavi’s door when it suddenly opened. Al-Nashwan didn’t hesitate. He jabbed Alavi in the stomach before pushing the stunned bomb maker back into his room and closing the door behind them. He wasn’t sure if Alavi recognized him or not, but he didn’t want to risk a confrontation.
“It’s me, Mohammad,” Al-Nashwan said. “Omar.”
―
Hunched over from the blow, Alavi looked up at the familiar voice and immediately saw through his mentor’s disguise. He got up slowly with the help of Al-Nashwan’s outstretched hand.
“What are you doing here?” asked Alavi, still breathless from the preemptive strike he’d absorbed.
“Listen to me carefully, my friend. We don’t have much time.”
The master terr
orist spent the next minute rapidly explaining his plan.
That could work, thought Alavi.
CHAPTER 47
Major Jackson Taylor was dressed in a loose-fitting black jacket over an open-collared white shirt. He had gained a few pounds since Alavi had last seen him, but he remained fit enough. His security guards were all wearing dark blue suits, also with open-collared white shirts. They were carrying their weapons concealed in leather holsters.
As soon as Taylor climbed out of his black Range Rover, the guard who had been riding shotgun got out and took his boss’s place behind the wheel. He shut down the jamming system so he could communicate with his boss if necessary. The other driver stayed in the second Rover as the other bodyguards climbed out of the vehicle. One of them took up position in front of Taylor and another behind him. Two others went inside to screen the lobby. A few moments later, they reappeared in the hotel doorway and signaled that it was safe to enter.
Upon entering the lobby, Major Taylor was surprised that nobody was waiting to receive him. He had expected Alavi to be standing with the hotel manager and had even hoped that the Sheik himself would greet him.
Hadn’t he done enough for this raghead’s organization to warrant such basic respect? Alavi had told him to expect VIP treatment, but all he saw was a couple of guests sitting on one of the lobby’s sofas. A front desk employee was standing behind his counter at an old IBM computer. He looked in Taylor’s direction but avoided eye contact. Frustrated, Taylor was about to return to his vehicle when he saw a vaguely familiar figure walking toward him.
“Mohammad?” asked Taylor as his bodyguards moved their hands toward their holsters and placed themselves between their boss and the approaching stranger.
“It’s me, Major. I changed my appearance somewhat,” Alavi answered.
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