The Carbon Trap (The Carbon Series Book 1)

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The Carbon Trap (The Carbon Series Book 1) Page 44

by Randy Dutton


  “After you drop off my rental, how are you getting home?”

  “I called Patrick. He’ll pick me up.”

  “He’s a good brother. I wish I had one like that growing up.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Not like me?” He pulled the car to the departures curb and shut off the engine.

  “Oh, I’ve got better uses for a guy like you!” She leaned over and kissed him passionately. “Damn, now I’ll have to fix my lipstick,” she said facetiously moments later, then rummaged in her purse and pulled out a very small Marc Jacobs perfume bottle. She opened it.

  His nose crinkled. “It smells cheap. I like your Chanel more.”

  “Fits the character.” She dabbed a little of the flowery scent in her cleavage.

  He grimaced.

  “Chill. I’m not trying to attract another man. It’s part of the act....”

  “An act I don’t want you performing.”

  “Point taken.... It’s a 15-hour flight via London, so I’ll arrive early tomorrow morning. Remember, I’m using the fake ID traveling there and back. You’ve got my Cayman banking information. If you need it for any purpose, use it. Sometimes money can buy happiness, or at least safety.”

  “But it can’t ensure your safety,” he said grudgingly.

  “Nothing ensures safety,” she retorted.

  They got out and moved to the side of the car. He handed her the luggage handles. “I love you. Be safe.”

  “I love you too. Hang tight, Honey. I will return and then we can take that honeymoon.”

  Anna checked her metal suitcase at the curb. Moments later she disappeared through the terminal glass doors.

  Pete pulled out his cell phone and spoke urgently. “Patrick, where are you?”

  “I’ve parked in the lot. I’m bringing your stuff.”

  Patrick arrived a moment later. “Here’s your bag. Your passport, a wad of cash, and her other Krugerrand is in the outer pocket. I’ve recorded the serial numbers of hers and yours, so I’ll be able to track both of you. I’ve got the Cayman’s account access info in case you need me to access the money. And I’ll take back her rental.”

  Pete handed him the keys.

  “When you arrive, check in with me on those prepaid cell phones I picked up for you.”

  “Thanks, Patrick.”

  “You sure she won’t be upset if you tail her?”

  “She’d be furious.” Pete laughed grimly. “But the Krugerrand will help me track her while keeping my distance. I figure I’ll be about an hour behind her with the flight you booked for me. I just can’t let her do this alone. It would kill me if I waited and did nothing, and then something horrible happened—”

  “You know I hate hearing you suggest you might not come back,” Patrick interjected. “But I understand. I accepted that when you joined the Marines – Semper Fi, bro.”

  “Semper Fi. Thanks for understanding, Patrick. I count on you explaining it to mom and the girls if it goes wrong.... This may help. Anna told me about a secret tunnel from under the sea cliff stairs to her armory and the computers. She gave me the code. That’s where she’ll head. If I need a weapon, or to destroy evidence myself, I’d just have to find the lower entrance and smash through the shell.”

  “And if your fears are unfounded?”

  “In that case nothing happens, and either I sneak back or I return with her. Sure, she might be angry, but I’ve seen how quickly she flips from angry to…not angry.” Pete grinned. Passionate, actually, but I can’t tell my kid brother that!

  “Good luck, brother,” Patrick said. “Bring her home safe. And you stay safe, too. You even think you need something, call me. I’m your lifeline.”

  Chapter 72

  August 4, 2100 hours

  The Spider, Monaco

  Swanson slammed his fist on the desk. “Where the hell is she?!”

  “She’s supposed to have returned from Black Hat in Las Vegas a couple days ago, Sir.” Jared sipped his Guinness while uncomfortably sitting across the older man in the 3rd deck lounge. Night had just fallen and the Monaco city lights sparkled just beyond the yacht’s dock.

  “I’ve sent some guys to find her, but no one’s seen her. One booth operator, a woman, presumably Russian, roughly resembling her description, closed her booth early the second day. That’s when Anna’s tablet GPS went silent. Our sources tell us the Russians were looking for a woman operating a hacker group. We don’t know if they knew the hacker’s identity or even if it was Anna’s operation.”

  “Think the Russians captured her?” Swanson leaned forward.

  “Possibly.... If so, we might get a ransom demand.”

  Swanson sneered. “That would be unfortunate for the Russians, and for Anna. Check reports of bloodshed with ninja-type knives or silenced pistols...poison too. That might show she likely was involved.”

  “I’ve already had people checking, and nothing matches yet. But Vegas has a lot of competing interests. She might have run afoul of any number of people. Meanwhile, I’ve personally searched for her. That’s when I went to Snath Genetics.”

  “Have you been to her villa?”

  “Yes, a few hours ago. Just a cursory check. Her servant is there but he doesn’t know anything about what she does or where she goes. I’m pretty sure he’s telling the truth. I’ve got a 24-hour guard in front and in back, both are out of sight.”

  “That’s not good enough. Search the place. I want to know if she’s hiding something from me, or whether she’s been abducted by the Russians. Either way, as much as I hate to consider this, she may be beyond salvaging.”

  Jared grinned. “Yes sir.”

  “I’ll talk to Vladimir to see what the Russians know.”

  “Good idea, Sir, but be careful wi—”

  Swanson glared at Jared.

  Jared lowered his eyes. “Sorry, Sir.”

  “Interrogate the servant,” Swanson said harshly. “He certainly must know more than he’s telling. She’s ensured his loyalty is to her, not me. I’ve tolerated her rogue people, but I don’t like it.”

  “Yes sir.” Jared said with a satisfied grin.

  Chapter 73

  August 5, 0800 hours

  Anna’s Villa, Côte d'Azur, France

  Jared approached Anna’s front door.

  Maulana promptly answered the 8AM front door chimes. His eyes widened when he saw Jared with five armed men carrying scanning equipment.

  “Is Anna here?!” Jared barked.

  “No, Mr. Jared,” Maulana stammered.

  Jared pointed to one man. “You. Strip and search her vehicles then the garage.” He pointed to another carrying a suitcase sized scanner. “I want a complete scan of the villa. Compile a schematic that accounts for every cubic meter of space. Let’s find her weapons and computers and what else she’s hiding.”

  He snapped his fingers at his other men. “You know what to do!”

  Jared’s crew scattered out around the villa. Two went inside.

  “Come with me, Maulana!” Jared said brusquely, walking past him and into the villa. Jared pulled a chair into the center of the living room. “Sit down.”

  Maulana obeyed, eyes widening in fear.

  “Okay, again, where’s Anna?”

  The Bangladeshi’s head shook side to side. “I not know where Miss Anna is. I not know yesterday, I not know still.”

  “Okay, we’ll do it the hard way.” Jared pulled out zip ties and lashed Maulana to the chair. He knew from his time with MI5—the UK Internal counter-intelligence and security agency—physical torture sometimes resulted in false information. His goal was to start with psychological tactics.

  During the lengthy questioning, Jared’s men fed him reports on their findings. With each new piece of information, Jared refined his questions.

  “Maulana, why did Anna reset the security logs?”

  “I not know.”

  “Why did she replace the recording drive?”

  “I not know she did.”
>
  “Was it to prevent someone from reconstructing past data?”

  “I not know computers but for Skype to family.”

  “Was it just routine maintenance, or a hardware failure?”

  “Please, I not know what you talking about.”

  “The security sensors around the house are all working now, but the ones in the front perimeter were recently damaged.”

  “I not know of any damage.”

  “Did she cut them, or someone else?”

  “I not know.”

  “Who repaired them?”

  “Miss Anna, maybe. She does all work on security. She just show me how to turn on and off alarm, and to call her if something happen.”

  “How do you contact her?”

  “By telephone. The number in my wallet. But she not answer in past three days.”

  Jared leafed through the wallet’s contents. “Did she give you instructions in the last month that were new?”

  The overwrought servant paused for a long time. “She give me instructions if something happen to her. Did something happen to Miss Anna?”

  Jared saw fear in the man’s eyes, but mostly fear for her.

  “What kind of instructions?”

  “To give away things. Her clothes, furniture, art, her dojo equipment…and to take care of dogs. She give put money in account, in case.”

  Jared considered the reasoning, That in itself isn’t too unusual considering her line of work. “What were you to do…in case?”

  “Go home to Bangladesh. Take dogs. Take care of my family.”

  Jared considered Anna’s preparations. Sounds like she was getting soft, worrying about other people now… was she planning on disappearing?

  He slammed his hand against Maulana’s chair back.

  I screwed up. I should have demanded Swanson let me to monitor her closer. He never allowed me to do a detailed analysis of her villa.... Kept claiming it would drive her ballistic if she found out and he just couldn’t risk it…. Thought she was too volatile and too valuable.

  A guard inspecting the interior motioned him over to the entryway.

  Jared soon returned. “Maulana, why did she wipe down nearly every surface with a bleach solution?”

  Maulana stuttered his answer. “Miss Anna...she like clean house. I mostly do cleaning, but not use bleach...because it hurt things.”

  Including DNA and fingerprints, Jared considered. “Has she had any visitors in the past month?”

  The servant paused in thought. “Miss Anna give me extra night off early last month. I come back in morning and she have a man sitting on deck. He have breakfast with her. She seem...different.”

  “How different?” Jared studied the scared man’s eyes.

  “Happy.”

  Jared’s face scrunched. Certainly Maulana must be misunderstanding Anna’s emotion. Satisfied maybe. Happy? Not likely.

  “How long did he stay?”

  “He stay until next morning.”

  Jared scowled. She seldom brings men here, likes to preserve her privacy and avoid entanglements.

  His brow narrowed with a thought. “Was she more or less happy when he left?”

  “She more happy.”

  He looked around. More happy than after the first night? That isn’t sexual satisfaction. She’s fallen for some guy. Now she’s damaged goods.

  “Describe him.”

  “I not get good look at him. Tall, dark hair, about Miss Anna’s age. Maybe older.... They stay together. They talk English. They laugh much, hold hands. I stay out of way. I go mow lawn, take care of dogs. She give me rest of day off. They leave just after I get back in morning. She drive him.”

  “What did he have with him?”

  “Nothing. He not have suitcase or bag.”

  Local maybe? Jared thought. “When she got back what did she do?”

  “She start cleaning. She smile. Even sing some. I never hear Miss Anna sing before. She good.”

  Jared squinted at a blank wall then pointed. “She had a picture on the wall over there. Where is it?”

  “I not know. It missing same time man here first morning. I not ask Miss Anna about it. I know picture make her sad, but she like it. I think it strange no other picture put there.”

  There’s got to be a connection. Didn’t she get it from the Maldives?

  Jared flipped open his secure cell phone and stepped onto the back porch.

  “Mr. Swanson, Jared here. We have a problem and I need your decision. Anna had a man here last month, someone her servant didn’t know. He spent two nights with her and I think she’s gone over the edge for him.... Because, Sir, she appears to have made preparations for bolting—”

  He nodded. “By sanitizing the house, paying off the servant, making arrangements to give away everything...Yes, all the clothes, art, furniture—”

  “I concur, Sir. I think she’s beyond salvage.... I understand.... Yes sir, I’ll inventory everything we find.... What do you want me to do about the servant?”

  He glanced back at Maulana with a grin. “No sir, there will be no witnesses.”

  Chapter 74

  August 5, 0900 hours

  Anna’s Villa, Côte d'Azur, France

  Anna parked at the Cap Ferrat Cemetery. The nondescript Fiat rental car was positioned for a fast retreat. She changed in the car to a short black wig, a baseball cap, black tee, faded blue jeans, her BeltSword, and sneakers. She reassembled her Walther P99 and screwed on the silencer.

  I need to be cautious. There’re too many hiding spots around my yard and house for me to approach by the driveway.

  Quickly, she walked westward two blocks along the cliff walk toward her villa’s outer wall. Slung over her shoulder was a small backpack common to tourists. But unlike most tourists, hers contained a small sledge hammer. Her iPhone hung on a strap around her neck, its digital zoom lens allowing her to surveil from a distance.

  She slowed as she neared a large tree next to the larger estate neighboring her villa. It overshadowed the path. Carefully she scanned for guards.

  If you see me before I see you, I’m just a tourist who overuses the camera. She slowly moved into the cover of the tree and staked out a position. Alright, 50 meters from the deck and I don’t see anyone. Wait…there’s an armed guard just inside the back gate. Has to be one of Jared’s. So the alert’s out. Damn.

  Minutes passed.

  A guard walked past the dining area window with a portable x-ray scanner. If they’re using those, then it’s a short time before they discover the armory, and then the computers.

  She climbed down below the edge of the walkway onto the steeply sloping cliff face. One slip and the ocean surge will tear me apart. I’ve got about 35 meters of cliff traversing before I reach the tunnel entrance.

  Her fingers and soft-soled shoes clung into the pits and crevices to work her way around the rough outcropping. The waves crashed wickedly on the rocks below her, sending salt spray to slicken her route and reduce her traction.

  Slowly she crabbed across the irregularly sloping cliff. The rock surface was loose and felt coarse on her hands.

  She reached her objective in about 10 minutes and removed the pistol from the pack. Behind a steep rusted stairway that descended to the water’s edge for boat access was a cement cap textured to look like natural rock. She rubbed the rock grains out of her abraded hands and fingers.

  She peered above the railing with the pistol held ready. The guard hasn’t moved...good. The pounding surf should provide good cover for my sledge.

  Putting the pistol within easy reach, she swung the sledge against the cement in rhythm with the waves breaking below. It was another several minutes before she punched a hole big enough to slip through, but not so big that anyone from the path could see it. She left the tourist bag just inside.

  Now to check the tell-tales as I ascend the tunnel that would show someone had been here. I don’t want to walk into a trap.

  After climbing the tunnel’s ru
sted iron ladder she listened for five minutes at the armory hatch to ensure there was no movement inside.

  Sounds safe.

  With her pistol ready, she tapped the keypad and opened the access. Climbing into the armory, she glanced around. Excellent, nothing’s been disturbed.

  Red status lights flashed on the surveillance video feed indicating intrusion throughout the house and grounds.

  Okay, now I’ve got eyes on the inside. Who’s there and what progress have you made?

  Surreptitious wide-angle cameras covered key areas of the villa and its approaches as part of her personal security. Years before, she had personally run the fiberoptic cables through the walls, and placed the pinhead sized lenses into light fixtures, bookcase moldings, and even into some of her art. These tiny, non-emitting lenses were not being identified by the scanners.

  She flipped rapidly through the view of every camera.

  Damn, it’s Jared, and he’s got a full team.

  She checked the perimeter to locate each person. I count six and they’re all armed with machine pistols. Where are Styx and Perses?

  She toggled a camera. Her heart sank at the sight of her Rotts lying on their sides near the dog houses.

  They’re either drugged or dead.

  Anna’s anger surged. She zoomed in and saw caked blood, multiple holes in their sides. Her hands clenched into fists.

  God help you, Jared, for what you’ve done!

  She looked up at her arsenal. Could I take all six?

  Her hand relaxed and pressed to her belly. Closing her eyes, she thought of Pete and the life inside her. She slowly shook her head. No, I can’t risk it.

  The opening dojo door brought her back to her deteriorating situation.

  They’ve breached my dojo security, and one armed guard’s scanning the walls. He’s getting closer to the cabinet that shields the Armory.

  While frequently checking on the man’s status, she started connecting the phosphorus explosives to a timer.

  Okay, his reaction indicates he’s got feedback showing no X-ray penetration – no doubt he knows there’s solid metal plating. He’s found my armory and calling another guard with an electromagnetic scanner to find the switch to open it. I figure they’ll break through in about 20 minutes. Maybe I can time this so it appears they set off the explosion.

 

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