“Not yet,” said Jen with a wry smile.
“Sir, the biggest piece of information to come to light is that Grace Maxwell is alive, and is masquerading as a Scottish baroness,” explained Fahimah.
“Come again?” said O’Reilly.
“Ryan believes she’s trying to infiltrate Sandesh’s corporation so she can learn what he or his organization may be up to. They met briefly at the race, at which time she slipped him a flash drive containing a map of the South Sudan. More specifically, it showed a disputed area in the northwest of the country that is currently under the control of a rather nasty warlord.”
“Was an explanation given as to why she brought that particular part of South Sudan to their attention?”
“No, sir. Jen and I are trying to learn all we can about that region of the country, and why it may or may not have a connection to Mister Sandesh.”
O’Reilly took a long swig of his coffee and then glanced at his watch. “What are they up to right now?”
“They’re on their way to Indonesia, courtesy of a flight provided by Sandesh. Nate texted me that they’re hoping to slip away and make their way to South Sudan, to learn what it is Grace thinks is so important.”
“I’ll give Dawn a call, and see if she can assist them.”
Fahimah grinned. “You won’t need to. She was in Singapore with Nate and Ryan. I suspect she’s also on her way to Indonesia.”
Jen took over. “Sir, before attending the race, Ryan and Nate visited a facility to speak with the last two people to see Mister Dinu and his daughter alive before they both vanished. In Ryan’s quick report, he wrote that the people there were focused on gene editing.”
“Yes, you mentioned something about this the other day,” said O’Reilly.
Jen nodded. “The people at Sandesh’s facility are looking at creating a way to permanently modify genes. Ryan isn’t sure if there is any reason to be alarmed, but I did a quick check online and found out that our own government believes that gene-editing could be used as a weapon of mass destruction and proliferation. It is termed a dual-use technology, meaning it can be used for good by eliminating traits which can cause fatal illnesses in people, while at the same time being able to be perverted into a weapon. If someone wanted to, for not too much cost, they could conceivably build a weapon that alters the human genome.”
“Good God, I had no idea,” said O’Reilly.
“Neither did we, until we started looking into gene editing and its consequences.”
O’Reilly drained his cup. “As always, you two have done stellar work. Keep in touch with our folks in the field, and let’s expand our search into Sandesh’s corporation, and just how far his people have been able to alter a person’s genes.”
“Will do, sir,” said Fahimah.
O’Reilly stood. “I was going to nip home and get a couple of hours sleep, but after just hearing what you’ve just presented, I don’t think I can. It looks like it’s going to be a long day of coffee and research. I need to get a better grip on what has our government so concerned.”
20
Oman
With the sun about to appear on the horizon, Sam and Cardinal jumped into their rental car and drove to the airport to meet the pilot who had volunteered to help them search for the missing plane. A light fog clung to the road. Aside from a couple of police cars, the streets were deserted. At the airport, Cardinal parked their car outside of a dark-red, wooden hangar.
“This is the place,” said Cardinal, looking up at the sign on the side of the building that read Gulf Tourist Flights.
Sam nodded and got out of the vehicle. “Al Zawawi said that the pilot would be waiting for us in the main office.”
Cardinal grabbed their backpacks from the back of their car before locking it and headed toward a door on the side of the building. He pulled open the door and let Sam walk inside. There were a couple of planes parked inside the vast hangar. One looked as if its engine was being worked, on while the other, a blue-and-white Cessna with a torpedo-like pod attached to the undercarriage of the plane, looked ready to go.
“I guess that’s our ride,” said Cardinal.
“It sure looks that way,” agreed Sam. “Let’s go introduce ourselves to the pilot.”
“No need to, pretty lady, I believe we’ve already met,” said Yuri, walking out of an office, wiping his grease-covered hands with a dirty rag. His face had its usual two days’ worth of stubble on it.
Sam stared at the pilot, speechless. Her jaw dropped open.
“Yuri?” Cardinal’s voice was full of shock. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we were told you had gone missing.”
Yuri scrunched up his face in confusion. “Who told you that?”
“A woman called Dawn told the general that you and Grace Maxwell had both disappeared in Singapore.”
Yuri looked from Cardinal to Sam, as if they were playing a joke on him. “This is not funny.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
“I think we need to sit down and have a chat.”
“Yes, I think that would be a good idea,” said Sam, finding her voice again.
Yuri led them to a side office, and poured everyone a cup of coffee that almost had the consistency of tar. He took a seat and smiled at his friends. “This woman called Dawn, is she a pretty lady, with long, blonde hair?”
“We never met her,” replied Sam. “All we know is what we were told, and she made it sound as if you had gone AWOL, along with Ms. Maxwell.”
Yuri drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds. “I think I can see why you believe I disappeared. A few weeks back, Grace called me and asked me to meet her in Singapore. I was between jobs and in need of some money, so I agreed to fly out and meet with her. In Singapore, she asked me to come here to Oman to look for a Royal Air Force plane that has been missing since the war.”
“Just a second,” said Cardinal. “That’s why we’re here.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” said Sam. “It can’t be a coincidence that you were asked to look for the exact same plane as us.”
“It’s not,” said Yuri.
Cardinal shook his head. “Pardon?”
“Before I left Singapore, Grace told me someone from Polaris would be joining me, and I guessed correctly that it would be you two.” Yuri smiled at Sam. “That is why I have moved the co-pilot’s seat forward for you.”
“I smell a rat,” said Sam. “We’re being led down the proverbial garden path. First, the old woman in New York, and then the professor, who just happens to recommend you as our pilot. This is all too suspicious, and I don’t like being toyed with.”
Cardinal’s voice turned stern. “Yuri, what is Grace up to?”
Yuri sat back and shrugged. “I wish I knew. Please, my friends, believe me when I say I know less than you about what is going on. I was hired to look for a downed aircraft, and that is what I have been doing. The professor isn’t part of any scheme that I’m aware of. When he called the office, the man who owns the plane asked me if I’d be interested in some work. That’s when I knew you were here.”
“Sorry for losing my cool,” said Cardinal. “But I agree with Sam, something doesn’t feel right about this assignment.”
“Before we go any further, might I recommend that the pretty lady calls General O’Reilly to see what he’d like you to do,” suggested Yuri. “If he tells you to go home, I’d be quite happy to call off this job and fly back to Sierra Leone.”
Sam nodded and dug out her cell phone.
“While Sam makes that call, let’s trade notes,” said Cardinal, spreading the map the professor gave him over the table. By the notes on the margins, it was clear to Cardinal that Yuri had been wasting his time searching the land to the east of Fanja.
A couple of minutes later, Sam hung up and slid back down into her seat.
“What’s the word?” asked Cardinal.
“The word is that Grace is alive and well, but is up to something
that Ryan can’t figure out,” replied Sam. “The boss also made it quite clear that it’s up to us if we want to continue looking for the plane. General O’Reilly is none too happy with how things have unfolded to date, but an old file from the war indicates that there’s supposed to be a priceless relic onboard that plane. He has no doubt that the relic is what Grace is after. Your guess as to why is as good as mine right now.”
“What about the woman who hired us to find her father’s remains? How does she fit into all of this?” asked Cardinal.
“Who knows? Right about now, I’m beginning to suspect she’s part of Grace’s grand scheme.”
“Okay, at least we’re all in the dark together,” said Yuri. “What do you want to do? Go home, or go looking for the relic?”
Cardinal looked at Sam. “What do you think?”
“We’re here, so we might as well give it a try,” she replied. “Besides, with Yuri as our pilot, I’m sure we’ll find the wreckage in record time.”
“I wish I could share your confidence,” said Yuri. “The mountains around here are steep, and there are literally thousands of ravines and dried-up river beds where it could have come down all those years ago.”
“Well one thing is for certain, we’ll never find it sitting here in this hangar. How soon can you have us airborne?”
Yuri grabbed the map and stood. “Give me fifteen minutes to file a flight plan, pretty lady, and then we can get going.”
“Hop to it,” joked Sam.
Yuri gave her a mock salute and went off to speak with the airport’s air-traffic personnel.
Cardinal looked over at Sam. “Now that we’re alone, do you think he knows more than he’s letting on?”
Sam shook her head. “He’s never lied to us in the past, and he’s always been there when we needed him. He may be a touch shady, but he’s loyal to his friends. No, he’s a pawn in Grace’s game, just like the rest of us.”
“What about Oman’s strict rules on digging up artifacts?” asked Cardinal.
“Well, I don’t want to end up in jail, so if we find it, we’ll call Ryan and see what he’d like us to do,” said Sam. “Who knows, by then we may have more of an idea about what is going on.”
“Maybe.”
“All I know is that I can’t wait until this is all over, so Grace and I can have a one-on-one conversation.”
Cardinal saw the angry gleam in Sam’s eyes. “Don’t forget that she helped save your life in Italy, and that there could be a very good reason behind all of this secrecy.”
Sam clenched her right fist. “I don’t care. I’m still going to give her a black eye for screwing with us.”
By the look in her eyes and her tone, Cardinal knew Sam meant every word she said. Grace had messed with the wrong woman.
21
Ambon Island, Indonesia
Like a pair of statues, Dimov’s two bodyguards stood outside of the commonwealth cemetery, watching Mitchell and Jackson as they solemnly walked past the immaculately kept rows of graves. Unlike other military cemeteries, there were no headstones—only a small marker to indicate who lay there.
“Aussie, Brit, American, Dutch,” said Jackson, reading the grave markers.
“And barely any over twenty-two years old,” added Mitchell. “What a waste.”
Jackson raised his head and looked around. “How many people do you think are buried here?”
“By the looks of the place, I’m willing to bet there are at least two thousand graves at this site.”
Mitchell’s phone buzzed. He stopped and read the text.
“Are we good to go?” asked Jackson, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Dawn says she needs another hour,” responded Mitchell.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Mister Dinu’s grandfather isn’t buried here, and I’m sure we can easily kill an hour looking for his resting place. Although, right about now, I could kill for an ice-cold drink. It’s really humid today.”
“It sure is. I’ve let Dawn know she has an hour, and not another minute more, to sort everything out.”
“Okay, let’s slow the pace, and take the time to read each every one of these markers.”
Mitchell strolled along with his hands clasped behind his back. “Nate, did you notice the veiled clues Grace and Sandesh gave us at lunch yesterday?”
“Grace might as well have screamed go to Africa and see what you can find,” replied Nate. “As for Sandesh, I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary.”
“Perhaps I’m reading too much into what I heard, but don’t you recall him saying he’d hoped to hire us to flush out whoever was responsible for the attack on his life?”
“Now that you mention it, I did.”
“Think about the wording: flush out whoever was responsible. I’m positive that Sandesh suspects one of his own people for the attack.”
“When you put it that way, I do believe he suspects it was an inside job.”
“I think we need the ladies to take a long, hard look at who Krasimir Dimov is, and where he came from.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
The next grave belonged to a Dutch sailor. When the two Rangers saw the sailor had died a month after turning eighteen, they stopped and paused for a moment to say a silent prayer for the young man.
Almost an hour later, Mitchell’s phone buzzed. He dug out his phone and read the message. He looked over at his friend. “It’s time to go.”
“Did Dawn say what she had planned for our two friends?” asked Jackson.
“No, she just said to come back to the hotel.”
“Let’s hope she knows what she’s doing.”
Mitchell and Jackson got into the backseat of their rented Hummer, while the two bodyguards escorted them back to their hotel.
“Did you find what you were looking for, sir?” asked the driver.
“Time will tell,” replied Mitchell.
The drive to the hotel took less than ten minutes. With their guards hovering nearby, Mitchell and Jackson walked into the air-conditioned lobby.
“That’s better,” said Jackson, pulling his sweat-soaked shirt from his skin.
Mitchell glanced around for Dawn, but didn’t see her.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” said a woman, slurring her words as she staggered out of the hotel bar with a drink in her hand.
Mitchell had to bite his lip to stop from laughing. Dawn’s blonde hair hung loosely around her face. Her dress looked as if she had slept in it for days. She staggered toward Mitchell. Just before she reached him, one of the bodyguards moved past Mitchell and took Dawn by the arm.
“Ma’am, you’re drunk,” said the guard.
“No, I’m not,” said Dawn, loudly.
“Trust me, you need to go home and get some sleep.”
Dawn shook her head, and touched the bodyguard’s hand with her own. Right away, he let go of her and grimaced. The other man saw what was happening and went to seize Dawn’s arm, but she deftly blocked his move and slammed her hand down hard on the top of the guard’s hand. Like the other man, the bodyguard recoiled and reached for his hand. Grace winked at Mitchell, and staggered out of the hotel.
“Jeez, you boys look rough,” said Mitchell to the two guards. Both men’s faces had turned pale. Sweat began to pour down their foreheads.
“Let’s get them upstairs,” suggested Jackson.
Their room was on the first floor, so it didn’t take long for them to reach it. Mitchell unlocked the door and stepped back. The room was a complete mess. It looked like a cyclone had just struck. All of the bedding was on the floor. Their clothes lay spread throughout the room.
“Drop them on the beds,” ordered Dawn, stepping out from behind the pop machine in the hallway.
Mitchell and Jackson dragged the guards over and dropped their limp bodies on the mattresses. Dawn slipped in behind them and closed the door.
“What the heck did you give those guys?” asked Jackson.
Dawn held up
her hand. On the underside of one of her rings was a small needle. “It’s a mixture of remifentanil and carfentanil. These boys will be out for a while, and when they wake up, they’ll have a hangover to rival the worst morning of your life, and will remember absolutely nothing about what happened.”
“Why did you turf the rooms?” asked Mitchell.
“To make it look like someone had been partying in here,” said Grace.
“I’m not following you.”
“Ryan, in about twenty minutes, a couple of well-paid young ladies are going to come here and pretend to get drunk on my dime. They’ll make so much noise that the hotel staff will ask them to leave. When they do, they’re taking anything of value, like your laptop, with them. The hotel staff will undoubtedly at some point want to take a look in the room, and that’s when they’ll find your two absent and the guards.”
“Hey, I need that laptop.”
“No, you don’t. It was filled with spyware when Dimov’s men packed your luggage for you in Singapore. Don’t worry. The women I’ve hired are professionals. Your laptop will be disposed of properly.”
“You like embarrassing people, don’t you?”
“Sometimes it’s better to make people look like a fool than kill them. Besides, their orders were to do the same to you, only you’d be killed along with a couple of prostitutes in what would be reported in the media as a murder-suicide.”
Jackson shook his head. “How could you possibly know that?”
“I pickpocketed one of the bodyguard’s cell phones as you left the hotel this morning, and read through his texts,” responded Dawn.
“Who ordered them to kill us?” asked Mitchell.
“That I can’t tell. The messages were from someone who calls himself Yama, but that would make him the Hindu God of death, and that’s highly unlikely.”
“Once again, Nate and I owe you our thanks.”
“I’m glad you’ve dealt with our friends for us, but what about us?” asked Jackson.
“I’ve made travel arrangements for all three of us,” said Dawn. “We’re going to leave this hotel with the clothes on our backs and drive to the municipal airport. From there, we’re going to catch a flight over to Palu, where we’ll buy some new clothes and luggage before heading to New Delhi. From there, we’ll take another flight. This one will take us to Ethiopia, before our final destination of Juba, the capital of South Sudan. Once we get there, one of my contacts will set us up for our trip to the disputed zone.”
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