Eternal Night

by Richard Turner

  “That kind of man would never have given himself willingly to us,” said the sergeant. “There’s a small, red dragon tattooed behind his right ear. The man is, or was, from a local triad. They’d rather die than talk to us.”

  Mitchell got in the back seat of a cruiser, and let his weary body relax, but his brain was spinning. The gunmen were clearly professionals, but who had hired them, and why? The police undoubtedly would be focused on such matters. What Mitchell wanted to know was why Grace was there, and what her part was in what had just transpired. He reached into a pocket and pulled out the mini flash drive. He examined it for a moment before slipping it back in his pocket. Mitchell couldn’t wait to get back to his room to see what Grace had recorded on the stick.

  15

  Emergency vehicles dealing with the dead and wounded from the attack packed the road behind Sandesh’s booth. Mitchell saw Jackson standing beside an ambulance, with his arms crossed over his chest. No sooner had the police cruiser stopped than Jackson walked over, opened Mitchell’s door, and hauled him out of his seat. He looked straight into his friend’s eyes.

  “For the love of God, Ryan, don’t take off on me again. You’re not as good of a driver as you think you are. You could have been killed.”

  Mitchell could see the displeasure written all over Jackson’s face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait for you to catch up. If I had, the assassin could have gotten away.”

  Jackson shook his head. “Just take a second to think before you go running off next time.”

  Mitchell raised his hands in defeat. “Okay, you win. I got it.”

  “Ah, Mister Mitchell, it is so good to see you alive,” said Sandesh, walking over with a tray of drinks. He handed tall glasses of scotch to Mitchell and Jackson, and took the last for himself.

  “Are you all right, sir?” asked Mitchell. He sipped his drink and felt the amber liquid burn as it slid down his throat.

  “Aside from being scared witless, I’m fine,” replied Sandesh, shooting back his drink in one shot. “Krasimir used his body to protect me. Fortunately, he wasn’t injured, either.”

  Mitchell glanced around. “The Baroness?”

  “Miss Strachan was so distraught that I had her taken back to her hotel to rest.”

  An ambulance crew walked past, pushing a collapsible stretcher. A blood-stained sheet covered the remains of an unfortunate victim.

  Mitchell clenched his fist by his sides. “Sir, do you know how many people were killed or injured during the attack?”

  “So far, the number is seven dead and thirteen wounded,” Sandesh’s voice choked up. “Adrian Lee is among the dead.”

  Mitchell felt a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “He was a loyal member of my team, and had a bright future ahead of him. It’s all so pointless. I don’t understand. Why did someone try to have me killed?”

  “Death rarely makes sense. Hopefully, the police will get to the bottom of this tragedy and make whoever was responsible pay for his actions.”

  “All I know is that a lot more people would be dead right now if you two gentlemen hadn’t acted so decisively.”

  “Just doing our jobs,” said Mitchell.

  “Sir, I was a little surprised to see that aside from your head of security there weren’t any other men on duty tonight,” asked Jackson.

  “With such a large police presence at the race, Krasimir didn’t think it likely that someone would try to harm my guests or me,” said Sandesh.

  “Speaking of Mister Dimov, where is he?” asked Mitchell.

  “He’s still upstairs, talking with the police,” replied Sandesh.

  Mitchell looked over at Jackson. “I take it the police have the two gunmen we subdued in custody?”

  His friend shook his head. “Regrettably, they took their own lives.”

  “How the hell did they do that?”

  “Cyanide. They both had fake molars in the back of their jaws. When the police arrived to take them away, they both bit down on the tooth. They were dead in seconds.”

  “Fanatics,” muttered Sandesh.

  “The only thing we know about them is that they both had a small, red dragon tattooed behind their ears,” said Jackson.

  “The man I was chasing did, as well,” said Mitchell. “The police sergeant who gave me a lift back here told me that the red dragon is a symbol of a local triad.”

  Sandesh waved an aide over and asked for three more drinks.

  “Sir, have you ever had any problems with organized crime before tonight?” asked Jackson.

  Sandesh shook his head. “No. None whatsoever. That’s what makes this all the more unbelievable.”

  “Well, if I were you, I’d double the size of my security detail, until the police arrest the person responsible for the attack,” said Mitchell.

  “A wise suggestion. I’ll speak to Krasimir about that as soon he comes downstairs.”

  The assistant returned with three more full glasses of scotch. Sandesh thanked the young woman and took the tray from her.

  Mitchell held his original drink up. “I’m still nursing this one.”

  “Me too,” said Jackson.

  Sandesh set the tray down in the back of the open ambulance. “More for me and my frayed nerves.”

  Dimov walked out of the crowd toward them. “Mister Sandesh, I’ve taken care of everything with the police. I would think it best if you were to return to your hotel, where I can guarantee your safety.”

  “A sound plan,” said Mitchell. “I think everyone could use some time off their feet.”

  Sandesh took two glasses off the tray. “Gentlemen, I can’t thank you enough for saving my life tonight. Please don’t leave Singapore before allowing me the chance to talk with you one more time.”

  “We’d planned to fly to Indonesia tomorrow, but I think we can delay it a day or two,” said Mitchell.

  “Thank you. I’ll have Krasimir call you tomorrow with the details.”

  Mitchell watched Sandesh get into his Rolls Royce, looking as if he had aged five years.

  “Now what?” asked Jackson.

  “We need to get back to the hotel and see what’s on this,” replied Mitchell, showing Jackson the mini flash drive.

  “Grace?”

  “Yeah, she slipped it into my hand just before the shooting started.”

  “Come on,” said Jackson, taking his friend by the arm. “Let’s flag down a cab and get the hell out of here.”

  Mitchell inserted the flash drive into his computer and clicked to open the file. Instead, a password request came up. He tried using Grace’s name, but the file stayed closed.

  “Getting anywhere?” asked Jackson, peering over Mitchell’s shoulder at the computer screen.

  “No. Whatever is in this file is password encrypted.”

  “Why would Grace give us a flash drive if we can’t open it?”

  Mitchell shrugged. “Beats me. But we know someone who should be able to open this for us.”

  “Who?”

  “Dawn. She said she’s Grace’s operational planner, and I’m willing to bet that she knows most of Grace’s passwords.”

  “Give her a call.”

  Mitchell dug out Dawn’s card and dialed her number.

  “Good evening, Mister Mitchell, how may I be of service?” asked Dawn.

  “I need your help opening an encrypted password file that Grace handed to me earlier this evening.”

  “That’s great news. Stay where you are; I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m on the floor below you. I’m on my way up.”

  Mitchell hung up and shook his head.

  “Ryan, what’s going on?” asked Jackson.

  “Dawn’s on her way up. It’s official; we’re not being told everything that is going on.”

  There was a soft rap on the door.

  Jackson opened the door. “Come in, Dawn. Aren’t you full of surprises?”


  Dawn smiled as she stepped into the room wearing a pair of old loose-fitting sweats. “Evening, gentlemen. I see I have some explaining to do?”

  Mitchell waved her over to the table where he sat, working. “You sure do.”

  Dawn took a seat, as did Jackson.

  “Where do you want me to begin?” asked Dawn.

  “At the beginning, and leave nothing out,” said Mitchell.

  Dawn took a deep breath and began. “If you think I know more than you about what’s going on, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. I came to see General O’Reilly and you in good faith. At that time, I honestly believed my boss had gone missing, and was following her directions to the letter. However, later that day, I received a short text message from Grace telling me to follow you to Monaco, but to keep in the shadows.”

  “Why didn’t you share this info with us?” asked Mitchell.

  “I’d hardly be following her orders if I alerted you to my presence.”

  “You’re hardly in the shadows, now, are you?”

  “I got excited when you called and wanted to see what you had been able to learn about Grace.”

  “Apart from pretending to be a Scottish baroness, we’ve learned squat.”

  “Dawn, why did Grace tell you to go to Monaco?” Jackson asked.

  “That part is easy to explain. After you were escorted out of the casino in Monaco, you were only minutes away from being murdered by a pair of former police officers. Luckily, I spotted them long before you arrived at the casino. One of our people had used them in the past, and was able to confirm their identities with me. I waited until I was sure they meant you harm, and dealt with them in the most appropriate manner.”

  “You didn’t kill them, did you?” asked Jackson.

  “Far from it. I tranquilized them and left them handcuffed and naked on a nearby beach for the police to discover. They’ll never find work in Monaco ever again.”

  “So, I take it this means Grace must have learned about a possible plot to kill us,” said Mitchell. “I guess we owe you our lives. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “That sort of makes sense,” said Jackson. “But if you were told to go only to Monaco, why are you here?”

  “If your lives were in danger in Monaco, I reasoned they would be wherever you went, and have been tailing you ever since,” replied Dawn.

  “And aside from one short text message, have you heard another word from Grace?”

  “No. But before we go any further, you two really need to invest in a portable scanner. After you left for the race, I broke into your room and found two listening devices, which I chucked in the garbage downstairs. The devices were state-of-the-art, but had no identifying serial numbers on them, so I couldn’t trace them back to who may have bought them. You’ll have to go with the assumption that everything you two have said since you arrived until tonight was recorded.”

  “Man, we’re getting sloppy,” noted Jackson. “Thanks, Dawn.”

  Mitchell turned his laptop so Dawn could see the screen. “Password, please.”

  Dawn smiled. “Try Mitchell.”

  Ryan typed in his last name. Right away, a map of South Sudan appeared. Mitchell enlarged the image, showing a red dot in what looked like a sparsely occupied area in the northwest corner of the country.

  “Kafia Kingi,” said Jackson, reading the name of the area where the dot was located.

  “Figures,” said Dawn.

  “What makes you say that?” asked Mitchell.

  “Because it is one of several disputed zones between the Sudan and South Sudan. A substantial part of the countryside is controlled by a warlord called Patrick Kagame. He’s a former commander in the Lord’s Resistance Army, and has a reputation for utter ruthlessness. His people control the illegal ivory trade in that part of Africa.”

  “Sounds like a wonderful human being,” said Jackson.

  Mitchell looked at Dawn. “Any idea of what’s out there, and why Grace thinks it important?”

  Dawn shook her head. “None. But I doubt she would have risked passing this information on to you if it wasn’t important.”

  “True,” said Mitchell, “but I’m going to forward this to Jen and see what she can make of it, before we rush off and book flights to the South Sudan.”

  “It’s your call.”

  “Damn right, it is,” said Jackson.

  “Thanks for your help, Dawn,” said Mitchell. “I’ll call you tomorrow once I’ve had a chance to speak with my people. Since you seem to have some idea of the tactical situation on the ground, why don’t you make a few calls and see what support, if any, you could drum up, if we decide to go there. After that, I suggest you get some rest, and don’t hesitate to contact Nate or me, should Grace call you.”

  Dawn stood. “Good night, gentlemen,” She let herself out of the room.

  Jackson let out a deep sigh. “I wonder what the boss will say when you tell him what’s going on?”

  “I suspect he’ll leave it up to us to decide if we should continue with the case or not,” said Mitchell. “Something’s going on, and South Sudan looks like the place for us to learn what that is. I’m tired of being in the dark, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure, but it won’t help us if that warlord gets his hands on us and decides to chop our heads off for fun.”

  “There is that. Come on, let’s put together a report to send back home, before I call the general.”

  Jackson nudged his friend. “I’d leave out the part that your girlfriend uses you as her password. Your better half may not like that too much.”

  “Way ahead of you. I’d rather face a crazed fanatic with a machete than a pissed-off Jen.”

  Jackson let out a deep laugh. “It’s way too late for that. Your little stunt tonight was shown worldwide on TV. It’s also bound to be all over the internet by now, with crazy commentary and mind-numbing conspiracy theories as to what was really going on. Have fun explaining your way out of this one. You can start pondering what you’re going to say while I order us a late-night snack.”

  Mitchell shook his head. Jackson was always on the prowl for food, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  16

  Krasimir Dimov sat behind his desk. The room, like his mood, was as black as pitch. He twirled a letter opener around in his fingers while he waited for his secure cell phone to ring. The attempt on his employer’s life hadn’t gone as planned, but it had spooked Sandesh into accepting more security and a change of plans.

  A cell phone buzzed on the table.

  Dimov reached over and saw the call originated from Toronto, Canada. He knew it wasn’t the correct caller identification. “Yes,” he said, answering the call.

  “Report,” ordered an electronic sounding voice.

  Dimov knew the voice on the line was being altered by a voice enhancer to mask the identity of the man he was speaking with. His pulse quickened. “Sir, things did not go precisely as I had hoped tonight, but I still managed to achieve my aim. Sandesh is a nervous wreck. I’m sure I can get him to advance the schedule for the production of Achlys by a week or more.”

  “That is good news. However, what I’d like to know is why Mitchell and Jackson are still alive. Did I not give you the go-ahead to have them eliminated in Monaco?”

  Sweat beads formed on Dimov’s forehead. “You did, sir. I’m not sure what happened. The men assigned to the task were recommended to me by a very reliable source. Someone must have spotted them and somehow incapacitated them.”

  “Mister Dimov, our organization does not take failure lightly. Due to their incompetence, I was forced to have your men eliminated in their prison cells. The last thing we need is a couple of worthless amateurs exposing our operation to the police.”

  “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree. They deserved to die.”

  “Once you have your hands on Achlys, how long will it take you to mass-produce it?”

  “Depending on the strain you want, it should
n’t take more than a few days to make enough to have the desired effect.”

  “You have done well, Dimov. You are to be congratulated.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “To ensure there are no further mishaps, I want Mitchell and Jackson dealt with right away. I want their fate to be particularly public, and embarrassing for their families and their co-workers. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  “Of course I can. They’re due to fly to Indonesia in a day or two. But from what I’ve been able to learn, Mitchell and Jackson aren’t interested in Sandesh or his corporation. They’re looking for a couple of missing people. If we were to kill them, wouldn’t that let the people they work for know something is going on?”

  The line went silent for a couple of uncomfortable seconds. “Mister Dimov, please allow me to decide what is necessary for the good of the organization.”

  “Yes, sir,” stuttered Dimov. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  “None was taken. Make sure those two irritants are dealt with, or you’ll have to answer to me.”

  Dimov’s blood turned cold. “I’ll make sure they never leave Indonesia.”

  “Remember, the more humiliating their deaths, the more you will please the organization and me.”

  Dimov’s heart swelled. “It will be done. You can count on me.”

  The line went dead.

  Dimov flicked on a light. He reached for his laptop and switched it on. Once this mission was complete, his ascension to a position on the governing council of the organization was all but ensured. He typed in Commonwealth cemetery on Ambon Island and waited for the information to come up. Dimov studied a map of Indonesia and saw the island lay to the east of the nation’s capital, Jakarta. It was one of many which made up the Maluku Islands. He wrote down some notes, before closing his laptop and reaching for his office phone.

  “Yes, sir,” said a woman on the other end of the line.

  “Miss Tay, I’m sure you’ve heard by now that Mister Lee was tragically killed earlier this evening.”