by Bradley West
He wrote down everything he had on Chumakov and sent it to Balendra and Pathmarajah via Tor-encrypted email with a subject line reading, In case of my death or capture, act at once.
Once he’d finished, his minded drifted to Friday. He had a bad feeling about tomorrow, a very bad feeling. He couldn’t even begin to think as far ahead as Saturday. But if he ever made it to Truscott Field and found Coulter waiting, what leverage would he have? Right now he had none, which meant he was as good as dead. It would be a shame to make it all the way to Australia only to be killed in the first hour. He needed a play . . . Weaverville! Using his third laptop in two days, he went online and looked up “Coulter” in Weaverville. There was a “Coulter’s Vedic Spa and Rejuvenation Center” listed. That didn’t feel like Frank’s gig, but it did sound like the sort of business a wife might run, particularly a younger second wife. It appeared Frank Coulter had family in Weaverville.
With Bert at loose ends, the new plan was to bring him back across the border and down to Weaverville. His son might be able to remain anonymous in the larger town of Redding, only fifty miles away, until Bob called him into action . . . or Bert was told to come to Asia to claim his father’s body.
Beyond the fractious teen years, he and Bert had always had a deep bond. Bert felt Mom was needlessly hard on Dad. After the past week’s indiscretion, that judgment might alter, but for now he could count on his son’s support. When he was done tapping out the WhatsApp message, he sent it off without even proofreading it for fear he’d cancel it altogether if he did so:
Retired CIA senior Frank Coulter lives in Weaverville, CA. Coulter likely involved in MH370 hijack, but now in Oz. Please travel incognito to Redding. ASAP reconnoiter Coulter’s home and Coulter’s Vedic Spa and Rejuvenation Center to see if wife runs it. Evaluate feasibility of kidnapping Coulter’s wife and/or children/grandchildren (if any). If you haven’t heard from me in the next 48 hours (or read of my capture or death), assume I am Coulter’s captive. Offer to trade your hostage(s) for me. Be careful: Coulter will take countermeasures. Love, Dad.
It was a crummy thing to ask of his son, but he needed an angle and Bert might be the only option. If it was any consolation, chances were good that Bert wouldn’t need to do anything as it was unlikely his father would make it as far as Australia.
Nolan decided he needed to think more positively, or he’d never make it through tomorrow. And what better way to brighten the mood than to check next door and see if Kaili was serious about opening the champagne?
* * * * *
Gerard and Michaels had a couple of hours to spare before heading back to the airport to catch the first flights out. They escorted the prisoner to Hogwarts and saw him safely locked away. Now they were giving Gonzalez a debriefing over tepid coffee. Gonzalez was shaking his head in envy as they described their ten minutes with the Wa and the grisly end of Robin Teller.
A banged-up Sally was back on housekeeping duty after being released from the hospital following Monday’s RPG attack. Her ribcage was so tightly taped she could barely breathe, but so devoted was she to Hecker that she skipped the prescribed two-week home convalescence. With the aid of the Deltas, she locked the still-mute Colonel Mullen/Vaughan Lee in the windowless single bedroom specifically designed for such involuntary visitors. As per DEA policy, every fifteen minutes she looked into the room through the observation port. When she let out a shriek, the Deltas came arunning, weapons at the ready. Mullen had pulled a spring off the bed frame and used it to open his left wrist. He was slumped motionless against the frame as an impressive puddle of blood spread around him.
* * * * *
Bert heeded nature’s call, and his father’s WhatsApp message was just what he was looking for. “About damn time!” he said aloud. His mind switched on. He could vacate the cabin, return the rental car and, if he double-timed it, take an anonymous mix of buses and cabs to get to a border crossing in seven hours.
He went online and used Google Earth to spot where he’d ask his mixed martial arts sparring partner and Theta Kappa Epsilon roommate to pick him up in the US. He knew his father wouldn’t approve of his contacting McGirty, but Bert wasn’t asking permission. Time was of the essence, and when time was tight, you went to the people you trusted.
* * * * *
Wow! Now he knew how a woman felt when she was in the mood for real romance. Champagne on ice, lit candles and a sexy welcome. It used to be like that with Joanie, long ago, before he’d succumbed to Melissa Shook’s siren song and silken embraces. Millie had been great, but she was more a fan than a peer. Now he was under the spell of someone closer in age, as well as senior in a rival spy agency. The warning bells were sounding, albeit only distantly. Nolan refilled their glasses and suggested Kaili have a seat next to him.
* * * * *
Deshan Pathmarajah led the newcomer to room 109 and used the duplicate key to ease it open. Nolan wasn’t there. The second figure, a man of exceptional height, slid in behind him. The tall man dressed like a tourist and carried a rectangular billiard cue case and a folding stepladder. Pathmarajah collected a brown wrapped packet from the stork, and set down a skinny fabric sausage filled with sand instead of kapok. With a silent wave, Pathmarajah took leave of the new arrival and eased the room door closed. Now that it was late, there was a chore for him out back the Racquets Club next to the tracks.
* * * * *
Michaels and Gerard worked with precision, one applying a tourniquet and the other assessing the patient’s vital signs. “He has a pulse. I don’t think the cut was that deep. The bleeding’s almost stopped,” Michaels said.
Gonzalez came up the stairs, out of breath. “A driver is downstairs. Do we take him to the hospital?”
“Hell yes,” Gerard said. “We need to get blood transfused and sew up this wrist.”
“Can you stay on to guard him? The last person we left at a hospital ended up disemboweled.”
“Absolutely not. Our leave was canceled due to an incident back at the base. They need both of us ASAP, and we’re cutting it close as it is. And that business up north earlier today surely makes us wanted men.”
“Fine, but can you take Mullen/Lee to the ER while I call Hecker to figure out what to do next?”
“Sure, just as long as we’re at the airport by 07:00 hours. Lair’s plane to Colombo leaves at 08:30, and my direct flight to Dubai takes off at 08:45.”
“That gives us over two hours before you have to go. Help me carry him downstairs to the car. Take weapons. I have no idea who or what is out there. Someone in Teller’s employ murdered an embassy driver at a city hospital not even a week ago.”
* * * * *
The tall assassin assembled his tools. The AS50 .50-caliber sniper rife was at the ready, the magazine of five loaded and clipped into place with the suppressor attached and scope awaiting calibration. He laid the sandbag across the top step of the five-foot high stepladder and confirmed that this would serve as a stable rest for the rifle barrel. Next he assembled the bipod in case of contingencies before working on the spotting optics.
* * * * *
Nolan was intoxicated by her smell. Her supple body responded as he moved his mouth down her neck, nuzzled the brassiere cup out of the way and swirled his tongue around her engorged breast while his free hand caressed its companion. Kaili pushed him off long enough to tell him to help her with her dress. He did so with alacrity, feasting his eyes on perfect ivory skin not seventy-two hours after his time with ebony Millie. With two thumbs, he hooked down Kaili’s panties and lowered his face onto her neatly groomed triangle. She opened her thighs and grabbed his head as his tongue parted her gates and probed within. Within minutes, she climaxed. He ignored her entreaties to shed his clothes. Time was short, and he had to show self-discipline, even a little.
On his hands and knees over her prone form, he planted a kiss on her cheek and made to rise. She responded by pulling him down and kissing him deeply. “Oh, that was so good. Let me pleasure you.”
With willpower he didn’t know he possessed, he extracted himself from her embrace and pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness and, he hoped, lessen his still unsated lust. The spell broken, she sat up with the sheet clutched at her neck and in silence watched him depart.
Nolan slipped out onto the balcony and made his way back to his own room. He reflected on the most remarkable five days of his life. The endorphin haze occasioned by Kaili left him unprepared for the hand around his mouth and knife blade at his throat.
“Don’t move.”
Nolan froze.
“I will take my hand away, and you say your name. If you shout or resist, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
Nolan nodded gently. The hand moved an inch away from his lips. “Bob Nolan,” he gasped.
“Walk with me over to the door and switch on the light,” said the voice.
Nolan did so, although the weak lightbulb shed scant illumination. His assailant let him go and the two men sized each other up.
“You don’t look like Bob Nolan.”
“You must be Aja Fernando,” ventured Nolan, having been apprised earlier that his hired shooter was a 6’8” ectomorph.
“At your service, as soon as I see identification.”
“I will turn this light off and we can talk. If I still looked like my ID photo, I wouldn’t have made it this far. I have a passport in the bag over there.”
* * * * *
The plane hadn’t stopped taxiing when Hecker’s phone lit up. Mullen/Lee slit his wrist! Mullen/Lee was at the PPR hospital and out of surgery. They had transfused two liters of blood and sewn up the torn veins. Mullen/Lee was now conscious, silent and handcuffed to a bed. Gerard and Michaels had to leave within the next fifteen minutes. What do you want me to do?
Hecker dialed Gonzalez. “Hanny, how is he?”
“Stable and still silent. Doctor says he needs microsurgery to repair nerve and tendon damage, but they can’t do that here. There are specialist wrist surgeons in Bangkok, and he suggested we transfer him.”
“Fixing his arm isn’t top of my to-do list. Keeping him alive and finding out how he’s tied to MH370 are higher priorities.”
“So what is the plan?”
“Well, even with Teller dead we can’t protect him in Hogwarts, much less the hospital once the Deltas leave. Any chance of their staying on until we can bring in reinforcements? We may have to resort to the embassy Marines, even though that means a leak to Matthews.”
“Negative. I’ve begged them, but they have to get back to their unit following an Afghan solider shooting up their Special Forces base. And they’re right to worry about the local regime looking for them once the word gets out about the shootings and beheadings up north.”
“Send Gerard and Michaels off to the airport with our thanks. Plan A will be to drive this fellow to a medical facility out of town. Check with Zaw and see if he has a place his men can properly protect.” Hecker hung up.
Hecker breezed through Singapore immigration and customs, found the taxi line empty and gave the driver the Navy Region Center Singapore base as his destination. Next up was a call to DEA Singapore head Damien Barling, even though it was barely six in the morning. “It’s me. I’m in town for a few hours en route to the big powwow in Tokyo tonight.”
“I was wondering if you’d made it. What’s the latest?”
“Teller is dead. Our Delta boys ambushed him on an airstrip up north. Would you believe the fucking Wa Army showed up and had our men under their guns? Fortunately, they recognized Teller. They hated that bastard, too, and figured anyone trying to kill him was their friend. The Wa took Teller’s head as a trophy. It was last seen being carried on the end of a pole by a blood-covered Wa gunman. It’s quite a photo, I can assure you. Our guys were unhurt, except for one of Zaw’s men. We’ll give ten thousand dollars to Zaw to pass along to the dead officer’s family.”
“Congratulations on Teller! I know how much you wanted that bastard dead.”
“That’s not all. Teller had another American with him, an older fellow in his seventies. He claims to be a captive off MH370. But Teller, just before the Wa decapitated him, pleaded with the so-called hostage for help, referring to him as ‘Colonel Mullen.’ At that point, Mullen/Lee/whoever-he-is went silent and hasn’t spoken since. Back at Hogwarts, he slit his left wrist.”
“So where is he now?”
“We can’t put enough men on him to protect him short of bringing him into the embassy proper and handing him over to Abrahams. We keep Mullen/Lee under the radar by shuttling him via ambulance to wherever Zaw can provide sentries and medical treatment. Gonzalez will interrogate the prisoner today, and I should be back Saturday night to take it from there.”
Hecker hung up and next called Gonzalez. His agent confirmed that Zaw’s men were helping to mount the guard at the hospital. Gonzalez mused, “Sure wish Tony Johnson were still around. He’d be able to get him to talk.”
Hecker reassured him. “Provided this fellow survives, he’ll talk well short of Johnson having to get involved. Mullen/Lee has to be seventy or seventy-five. Use nonphysical means; we need him alive and don’t want to be standing trial for torturing an elderly US citizen irrespective of his connection to MH370. Just keep it as quiet as the crypt. The CIA is dirty on this, but who other than Matthews isn’t clear.”
“Gotcha. Let me speak to Zaw. Can I call you in about an hour?”
“Yeah, I’m seeing Travis before he flies to Hawaii later today. But then I have to hurry back to the airport to make the 10:30 Tokyo flight.”
“Safe travels.”
“Be careful. This last week has seen more bodies strewn around than Scarface.”
“Copy that.”
* * * * *
When Nolan finished briefing Fernando, the decorated shooter wasn’t happy. “The range is simple; I’ll have it down to the inch within ten minutes after sunrise after I set up the stepladder at the back of the balcony under cover. On the other hand, a suppressor can cause declinations. You tell me there will be three targets, one of which you will eliminate. I will neutralize the second, but that leaves the third man unmarked. You must take him from your end.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but I barely know how to operate a gun. The first one I’ll get through surprise. You’ll be following my lead and will shoot the second. After that, I’m not certain that I can hit a moving target, particularly if he’s shooting at me.”
“If you don’t, he’ll kill you if he can shelter behind that seawall out of my line of sight. Why don’t you use a grenade?” Fernando plunged his hand into his canvas bag and came up with a smooth plastic orb with a familiar pin and spring-handle. “Take this one. It’s US-made. Kill zone of thirty feet. The only downside is that it has a three–and-a-half-second fuse: far too slow for your needs.”
“Thirty feet? We’re likely to be no more than thirty feet away even if we’re on that train. Innocent people will be there, too.”
“If you don’t kill all three, the last one will shoot you. It all depends on how much you want to live.”
Nolan realized he was right and shrugged in resignation. “Will it bother you if I sleep here?”
“I’ll be working for thirty minutes more, but I won’t make much noise. Then I’ll get a couple hours of sleep on your spare bed.”
“That’s fine. On second thought, I’m going back next door.”
The dark assassin gave him a sly grin as Nolan stepped out onto the balcony, grenade in hand. Fernando dug into his lunchbox and extracted a grilled fish sandwich, his favorite.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
COUNTDOWN
THURSDAY MARCH 13, NORTH CASCADES NATIONAL PARK, WASHINGTON STATE; FRIDAY MARCH 14, BEIJING; COLOMBO; SINGAPORE; GUANGZHOU, CHINA
President Gao sat in the situation room surrounded by PLA seniors and intelligence cadres. The president stood and spoke without notes. “Comrades, today marks the beginning of the end of a struggle that China has waged for decades. The
US will pay the price for its aggression and insolence. After the events of the next three days unfold, no longer will the United States—much less any country in Asia—believe in the wisdom of antiquated security pacts with Asian nations. No longer will the hegemonists mouth ‘win-win cooperation’ when their every deed hems our Navy against the coast. No longer will the US make five hundred reconnaissance flights a year over Hainan Island that intrude into China’s airspace and mock our sovereignty. For China to be safe, for Asia to be truly for Asians, we must push the United States back across the Pacific. The coming invasion of the Diaoyu Islands so brazenly claimed by Japan will be but the first step.
“Our actions in the coming conflicts have been contemplated for many years. They carry risk, but these risks have been minimized. I expect you to obey your orders without question. For the glory of China and the Party!”
The military men and women roared their approval. Absolutely right, thought Gao. Not like those closet pacifists on the Politburo Standing Committee he’d dealt with the day before. In ten years, the world would be a safer place with China dominant in the Eastern Hemisphere. However, for the time being, Menander and Polar Bear would place his country in mortal peril.
* * * * *
Kaili wasn’t taken aback to find Nolan pawing at the balcony door, but when she let him in, he surprised her. “Can I sleep in your spare bed? My room’s occupied. And can you set the alarm for 7:30?”
“Of course. What’s that in your hand?”
“Oh, this. It’s a fragmentation grenade. You need to hide it on your person tomorrow, somewhere a frisker won’t find it. We may have to use it against Chumakov and his gunmen.”
She took the green plastic device, which was about the size of an apple, locked the balcony and went back to bed. The CIA officer was almost asleep by the time she slid under the sheet alongside him. Kaili draped an arm over Nolan and whispered in his ear, “I’ll set the alarm for 7:30, but right now we need to wake up your little brother.”