Sandstorm

by Alan L. Lee

  Alex glanced at the heartbroken woman a few pews ahead. She raised her hand above the pew so that Alex could see part of the automatic weapon otherwise concealed by her clothing.

  “She’s so sweet. Now, I’ll also take your cell phone. I’ll be sure to return it when I see you later.”

  Before Alex did as requested, he addressed the old woman, keeping silent as he mouthed, “You’re going to hell.” She responded by giving him the finger.

  Alex slowly reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a cell phone, reluctantly handing it over. Little did the man know the phone wasn’t his and that it was password protected. Alex’s phone still rested in his pants pocket. The man left just as quietly as he had come. Alex watched his exit, taking in as much as he could before the cathedral doors glided shut. When he turned back around, the grieving woman was maintaining her cover while focusing on Alex. He lifted his arm to check his watch, which forced her attention to shift momentarily. He slid his other hand in his pants pocket and went about slowly texting Nora.

  Outside the cathedral, the interracial couple flagged down a woman who’d been jogging. They politely asked her to take a picture of them with the sun setting in the background. It would make for a romantic memory. The jogger didn’t seem overly pleased at having her exercise interrupted, but she obliged. As she angled the couple’s cell phone to take the picture, Sara read the text message Nora had just received.

  Man leaving church. Short thin blond hair. Dark rumpled jacket. Don’t lose him.

  A small flash filled the short space as Duncan and Nora embraced with affectionate smiles. Sara picked up her target easily enough as he strode away from the church. His pace exceeded others on the street, and Sara was relieved to see there was no vehicle in sight to pick him up. She was sure, though, that there’d be some form of transportation at the bottom of the hill, not far from where Nora and Duncan had left the car. Sara had handed them the keys about a half mile from the cathedral, opting to jog the remainder of the distance, needing to work up a sweat to give her credibility. She nodded after being bestowed with a “Thank you so much,” adding an inconvenienced smile as she handed the cell phone back, stealthily retrieving the car key in return. She then took off jogging again, this time in the direction of the man she’d been told not to lose. For Nora and Duncan, there was one more thing to do before they made their exit. They held each other close as they continued their lovers’ stroll. They were nearly upon the seated figure Alex had texted them about before he entered the church. Approaching quietly from behind, they could tell by the angle of his head that he was more interested in what was happening in front of him. He was making sure the man who’d exited the church went on his way unimpeded and had no one on his tail. The vantage point also afforded him a bird’s-eye view of the cathedral’s entrance. If need be, putting a bullet in the tall, muscular man should he emerge from the church too early would be simple target practice. With everything he was concerned about in plain view, his flank was of little concern. He was so startled by Nora appearing at his side, that he nearly dropped his book. He fumbled to secure it, wrestling with whether to keep his attention on the cathedral’s entrance or the attractive woman suddenly next to him. He’d seen her before. In fact, one question was answered. She was as stunning up close as she was from a distance.

  “Oh, I’m sorry if I’ve startled you,” Nora said sheepishly, holding out a map in her hands. “First, I hope you speak English, and second, I hope you can tell me how far I am from something.”

  The man shrugged his shoulders, hoping the woman didn’t notice he was buttoning his jacket to conceal the weapon tucked in at the waist. “I understand a little English.” The dark sunglasses allowed him a good glimpse of her cleavage. It was enough of a look to satisfy, and then he brought himself back into the moment, remembering he was working. “What are you trying to find?”

  It then dawned on him. Where was the big brown-skinned man she was with? They had been a couple, arm in arm, kisses on the cheek. The cheek! Lovers caught up in moments of endearment didn’t settle for the cheek. The man began a quick shift in his seat to check behind him, unbuttoning his jacket as he did so. Duncan reached him before his torso was in position. The syringe was thrust quickly into his neck, the potent tranquilizer pushed through as Nora restrained his gun hand. He desperately tried to dislodge her hands with his free one, but the strength to resist rapidly drained from his body. A few seconds later, he slumped into unconsciousness. Duncan withdrew the needle and held him up as Nora situated the book back in his hands and adjusted his hat to cover more of his forehead. They let him gently slope into the corner of the bench, the side armrest holding him in place. Duncan then came around to grab Nora’s waiting hand, and the loving couple continued on their way, passing the cathedral as its doors swung open.

  Alex emerged looking slightly annoyed. He took note of the man sitting on the bench but didn’t fixate and only casually registered the interracial couple passing before him.

  The doors behind him slowly opened as the elderly woman was on his heels. She looked to her left with admiration. That Oleg was such a damn professional! She considered herself capable, but not yet in his class. He played the part so well. Look at him over there, looking so comfortable, so laid back. A book occupying his hands, his hat pulled down low, sunglasses covering eyes that she knew were watching everything.

  She then looked up at the tall stranger next to her, a sardonic smirk drawn on her face.

  “May God bless you,” she spat out in barely audible English, making the sign of the cross. Alex looked down at her with a raised eyebrow and watched as she gingerly took each step before proceeding on her way.

  Some people you never wanted to see again in your lifetime.

  CHAPTER 39

  The rain continued its assault on the Beltway. Morning rush hour traffic didn’t need any assistance to be a pain in the ass. Mother Nature could close schools and virtually shut down the government when snowfall reached an inch. Rain on the Beltway had the potential to push people over the edge. George Champion didn’t need any more stress in his life. He avoided adding to it by being an early riser who found a measure of peace in avoiding the bumper-to-bumper congestion of people seemingly in a hurry to get to jobs they generally didn’t enjoy in the first place.

  Considering the pay scale, the consensus was that the majority of employees at the Central Intelligence Agency actually wanted to be here. They believed their overall reward was in helping to ensure that not only themselves, but also others could go home at night to a sensible and safe world. That ideology was tested on a daily basis, because there were days when it seemed the world was coming apart at the seams. There were no quick fixes anymore either. Not with rampant governmental oversight and more intelligence-gathering agencies on the federal dime than it seemed there were liquor stores in the District. Solving problems now had to get done one stitch at a time.

  A slight buzz was permeating throughout the building. For a place that took pride in keeping secrets, the comings and goings of high-ranking visitors to Langley rarely went unnoticed. Earlier, while peering out his upper-floor window, Champion had noticed the two black sedans rolling down the driveway. They screamed “Washington bureaucrat,” but to his knowledge, there were no official meetings on the docket today. Not that certain people on the Hill ever felt compelled to follow protocol anyway with their “We appropriate the checks that keep your butts afloat” attitude. One such politician had been in the building now for thirty-five minutes, meeting with the director of central intelligence. Champion hoped it was something his superior would handle, but then the call he dreaded appeared on his private line. The director wanted Champion to join him and Senator Bryce Lipton. That had been five minutes ago, and as he made his way to the DCI’s office, a line from a sitcom ricocheted through his mind: “Lucy, you have some ’splaining to do.”

  How could Lipton know? Had Alex or Nora screwed up? Had they been apprehended? As he entered t
he director’s office, Champion figured he was about to find out if the firing squad had ammunition.

  Advancing in age, Adam Doyle was surprisingly spry. He was up and rounding his desk to greet Champion before the door closed behind him. Despite being twenty-two years younger, Champion doubted he could best Doyle in a marathon race. The man was downright religious when it came to running and staying fit. If memory served him correctly, Doyle routinely got in six miles a day before work. For a brief instant, Champion cast a glance toward Lipton, who remained seated, his posture locked down, facing forward. With a hand resting on Champion’s back, Doyle guided Champion to a chair next to Lipton. Only then did the senator rise from his seat.

  “You two have met, haven’t you?”

  They sized each other up. “Yes, briefly our paths have crossed,” the senator said, his tone suggesting their prior interactions weren’t anything special.

  “Senator, good to see you again.” The handshake was firm but didn’t last long. “A couple of State dinners, I believe, maybe a function at the White House.” Lipton nodded in agreement as he sat back down, tugging at a crease in his pants.

  “Hell, everybody at least knows somebody who knows somebody in this town,” Doyle said, returning to sit behind his manicured desk. Doyle spoke before the senator seized the opportunity. This was not going to be a place where Lipton could huff and puff.

  “George, as you know, the senator has a personal interest in the agency, since his son is one of ours.”

  Champion acknowledged the fact with a nod. Doyle continued, sensing the senator’s need to move things along, which was just fine with him as well.

  “Is Davis Lipton working on anything vital at the moment?”

  Champion could feel the elder Lipton’s eyes on him like lasers. He knew he had to sell it, so he took a second to gather his thoughts. “Nothing of consequence has crossed my radar screen.” Champion cleared his throat. Why not make this interesting? “And … it was my understanding”—he shot Lipton a cautionary glance—“from the AG’s office that he wasn’t to be assigned to any heavy lifting until the Erica Janway legal matter was concluded. Am I missing something here?”

  The senator’s face was emotionless, but Lipton couldn’t help himself. “Not wanting to seem unsympathetic, but isn’t the Janway issue a nonissue now?”

  “Senator, her death is very much under investigation, so I’m afraid not,” Doyle pointed out. “And besides, there were a number of depositions taken, and her legal team is very thorough. Her husband is steadfast on seeing this through.” Like Champion, Doyle had known and respected Janway. “I’m sure you can appreciate that the AG wants to make sure we’re on solid ground.” The no-nonsense response was effective in establishing the boundaries. The CIA had taken its fair share of criticism over the past several years, but there were limits on how far an outsider could push.

  Champion alternated his attention between the two men. “I’m still not sure what we’re discussing here.”

  “Well, let me tell you,” the senator said, seizing an opening. “I haven’t heard from my son in a couple of days. He hasn’t answered his cell or responded to e-mail.”

  “I take it that’s unusual? You two converse that often?” Champion queried.

  The muscles in Lipton’s face twitched for a second. “Not really. It’s just that a relative is ill and he asked to be kept informed in case a trip home was warranted.”

  “My apologies, Senator, but it’s really impossible for me to know the status of all our field agents unless they’re part of a large-scale undertaking, which, as I mentioned before, your son isn’t.” Champion addressed Doyle for reassurance. “I’ll follow up with his station chief. Any chance he’s just taken a few days off? A romantic getaway, perhaps?” Champion decided to measure the senator’s ability to handle himself under fire. “Where was he when you two last touched base?”

  Lipton took longer than he should have to answer, coming up with, “I believe it was Zurich.”

  “And you say that was a couple of days ago?”

  “Yes.”

  A nightclub in Brussels for a meeting with a black market dealer is quite a distance from Zurich, Champion wanted to blurt out, but this wasn’t the place or time for a showdown. Not yet.

  “I’d hate to worry his mother,” Lipton said, a sly smile forming. “None of us would get any sleep then.” The Washington heavyweight then pushed off his chair and offered his hand. “Gentlemen, I’ve taken up enough of your time this morning, and I really have to get back to those whining children on the Hill.”

  Doyle answered for Champion as he led the senator to the door. “Senator, we’ll certainly make some calls and get back to you. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Walking toward the elevator, Senator Lipton wondered if he had just been handled. He could hardly press the point, but his son should have been in contact by now. Tobias Baum had been paid, so everything was relatively on schedule. The merchandise waiting to be inspected and shipped was the only holdup. His Israeli connection certainly wouldn’t be pleased at even the hint of a problem after so much meticulous planning. Lipton was most worried, though, about the man financing the major portion of the endeavor. Roger Daniels had never been too keen on Lipton’s son being part of the operation in the first place. Would he dare harm his son? There were degrees of power, and although that bastard had a ton of influence and money to burn, there were certain lines you didn’t cross. If need be, Lipton could arrange for Rogers to never be heard from again. A black ops unit from the Department of Defense could take care of that, no questions asked.

  As soon as Champion was sure Lipton had vacated the director’s inner sanctum, he let it be known he wasn’t done talking. Champion and Doyle had tremendous respect for one another, and after years of service, Doyle was set to step down shortly. He had gone out of his way to make the case to both political parties that without question his successor should be Champion. The two knew and trusted each other very well at this point.

  “Adam, I have to get you up to speed on a pressing matter.”

  “I got the feeling you had something on your mind.”

  “You better sit down. I may not be your first choice to succeed you after this.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Sara examined the landscape before her, and she saw several items scattered about that caused her concern. She prayed the man from the church hadn’t come by bike. She wouldn’t be able to keep up on foot if he had, and using a car to maintain surveillance on a bike would be a dead giveaway.

  Establishing a rapid pace on the other side of the street, she eclipsed him without much interest. She was able to reach the car as he continued to walk past a smattering of locked bikes. She had the car headed back toward the cathedral, her cell phone already in use. Nora and Duncan should have taken care of the sentry by now, and Sara had a feeling she might need them. Out of the side mirror she was relieved to see that the man was fumbling for keys in his pocket as he stood next to the driver’s side of a compact car. Nora answered her phone as she and Duncan came into view, making their way down from the top of the incline. Sara told them to pick up the pace as she readied the car by turning it around in the direction the man was now traveling. His compact was diminishing by the second.

  Nora and Duncan weren’t fully inside when Sara hit the gas pedal. Duncan grabbed hold of the car door handle as his back slammed against the seat. He shot Sara a less-than-pleased look as she worked the pedals. She offered no apology. They stayed a safe distance behind, allowing the target to maintain at least a block lead. Having six eyes on his car made the tail a lot easier. Checking constantly, they were convinced he had no protective escort. The traffic thickened as they entered Tbilisi proper. Several blocks later, motoring along the main drag of tree-lined Rustaveli Avenue, they suddenly were gaining ground on him. Duncan looked at the fast-approaching structures on either side of the street. From here he could see Freedom Square ahead, its multidirectional opti
ons a potential challenge. He then saw the car’s turn signal engage.

  “I think we got something here,” Duncan said as the lead vehicle slowed in order to turn into a parking garage.

  “I’m getting out,” Nora said quickly, and Sara barely had stopped before Duncan leaned forward to let her out of the backseat. The uniformed doorman observed the strange scene but nonetheless tipped his hat to welcome Nora as she entered through the double doors of the Marriott Hotel. Sara made a beeline for the parking garage, trying to keep up. She let her hair down as she did so, taking no chances that the man, should he get a glimpse, be able to recognize her as the woman who was jogging near the cathedral. His car wasn’t immediately visible when they pulled into the garage. Seeing no empty spots, she continued on to the next level. It was then she saw the car up ahead, just before it turned onto the next level. As they rounded that same corner, the compact turned into a vacant space. Duncan didn’t bother telling Sara, but she got the message once his door flew open. She tapped the brakes, and he exited in a flash. Sara continued on, looking for the next available parking space. Duncan located the nearest exit, and by the time he heard the man’s car door shut, he was already ahead of him, pushing open the door of a vestibule that housed a bank of elevators and a stairwell. Taking a calculated risk, Duncan punched the down button just as the man came through the door. The man noticed the stairwell, but seeing the elevator button was pushed, he elected to wait. Duncan turned to acknowledge him and produced a courtesy smile before returning his focus to the elevators.

  Thankfully, the wait wasn’t long. Duncan allowed the man to enter first, letting him punch the button for the lobby. Duncan got out his cell phone and sent a short message to Nora, telling her they were heading her way and to be in position. He had no way of knowing for sure, but Duncan assumed the man would be going to his room once he reached the lobby, since there was no way to do so from the parking structure.