“What’s she taking this time?” Jeff asked. Something big, he was certain. That would explain a great deal.
Ahmed, who viewed himself as the ultimate pragmatist, felt his chest unexpectedly swell with pride. These two were weak like all Americans. Soon enough America would have to deal with a reborn Iran. “Stuxnet. You know about it, don’t you? You would in your field. She’s taking the fix to it. Soon, my friends, you will see a bright fireball in the Iranian desert and not long after . . .” Ahmed smiled. “It is already too late.”
Two Chinese men walking briskly in central Prague drew a few stares, Wu noticed. He slowed their pace and cautioned Li to not look so serious. “We are tourists or perhaps businessmen. We must not hurry.”
The morning-rush time was over and traffic was not as heavy as when they’d come into the city. Wu decided against a taxi. It would be just as fast to walk. Ahmed, he understood, was an Iranian operative stationed in Prague. He served a vital though unspecified role that benefited China. His status as an agent had been obvious by the nature of the apartment. It had been too clean for a normal single man, with none of the usual things Wu would have expected to find. A complete set of furniture for one. It was as if the man had just one foot in, the other ready to bolt.
Wu understood perfectly. It had taken him several years before he laid down the kind of detailed life someone living permanently would. Still, he kept a small bag in both his apartments, one in Istanbul, one in Ankara, and at a moment’s notice could be out the door. He’d noticed one in this man’s apartment. In addition, Wu rented a safe house in both cities, listed under another name, paid for in cash—apartments no one knew existed. And he had two passports beside his official one, each bundled with a supply of American dollars and euros.
Wu checked his phone as he walked. The cell phone he was tracking had not moved. “The next street,” he said to Li, who nodded in response. A few moments later they were at Krasova 702/34. The entry door was locked.
Wu rejected forcing it. “We’ll wait,” he said. He moved onto the street and kept the door under casual observation as he input the building address. It was listed in the man’s database as belonging to a known associate. Three minutes later an elderly woman came up, fumbled with her key, and opened the door. They quickly followed.
Wu glanced at the numbers on the ground floor. “The stairs,” he ordered. “Quickly now.”
“I didn’t like leaving him,” Daryl said on the street, “even if he did tell us about his girlfriend.” She’d taken a few minutes before leaving to wash up, removing as much blood as possible, combing her hair. “What should we do? Kill him?” Jeff asked.
Daryl didn’t answer. Her hand really hurt. She lifted it so she could take a good look. “We need to find a store or pharmacy. I have to fix this, get clothes, and get rid of this blood.” The paper towels were soaking with it.
They spotted a small pharmacy within two blocks, though drawing worried looks as people made way for them on the sidewalk. They looked as if they’d been in a fight. Jeff bought what he needed while Daryl waited discreetly outside. There were bloodstains all over her. The pharmacy sold tourist T-shirts. He bought one for her. I Prague! Once her hand was properly bandaged and she’d ditched her blouse for the T-shirt, the couple took a taxi to Saliha’s address, which Ahmed had surrendered.
“Do you think we can catch her?” Daryl asked. She picked at her pants. There were stains on her thigh but these were not obviously blood as they had turned brown.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But she seemed in a hurry earlier and I delayed her.”
After Jeff paid for the taxi, Daryl said, “Let me talk to her, woman to woman. You’ve already threatened her and she ran away from you.”
“All right. But I’ll be nearby, just in case.”
The building was newer than the one they’d just left. The entrance was open and there was no concierge. They took the elevator to the fourth floor. Saliha’s apartment was the second on the left. Daryl knocked as Jeff placed himself with his back against the wall just beside her, ready to move at the slightest provocation.
A woman answered the door, opening it three or four inches. “Jo?”
“I’m looking for Saliha,” Daryl said with her winning smile.
“Oh. You just missed her.”
“That’s really too bad. Could I talk to you?” Daryl asked. “It’s very important.”
“About what?” The door moved as if she was about to close it.
Daryl held up her bandaged hand. “About Ahmed, what he did to me. About the danger Saliha is in.”
There was a moment’s hesitation, then the voice said, “Come in.”
Ten minutes later Daryl emerged from the apartment smiling. “Come outside,” she said as she walked passed him toward the elevator. On the street she led him around the corner. There was a bench and she sat down, Jeff joining her.
“Her name is Ayten. She comes from Istanbul. She worked with Saliha at the same club for a while but now works somewhere else. Three women share the apartment. She doesn’t like Ahmed. She saw him with another woman and told Saliha he was cheating on her. She said Saliha makes trips to Ankara every few weeks to see her mother but Ahmed pays her so the trips are really for him. She doesn’t know why. She says Saliha was very upset when she arrived; said a maniac had tried to kidnap her.” Daryl stopped, gave Jeff a quick kiss and said, “Hello, maniac.” She drew a breath then continued, “Saliha wasn’t going to go on any more trips she’d told Ayten, but Ahmed is paying her a lot of money so this is the last one.”
“Is that it?”
Daryl smiled brightly. “Of course not. I have Saliha’s address in Ankara and her cell number. I also have her last name. Kaya.”
Jeff beamed. “Excellent.”
“So what do we do? If we contact the police, which one do we call?” Daryl asked. “And what do we tell them? I don’t want to explain the dead body back there. And you don’t want to say how you were able to find me.”
That, Jeff thought, is a very good question. What counted was that he had found her, but in the rescue he’d painted himself into a pretty corner. The police in Geneva were going to be very upset with him. And at the least, here in Prague Daryl would have to account for the dead man. In an ideal world there would be no question of self-defense. She was, after all, a kidnap victim and the man had been one of her abductors.
But this wasn’t an ideal world and Jeff knew nothing about the Czech legal system or politics. Ahmed and the other men were Iranian operatives so the Iranian government would be applying pressure once they knew what had happened. Would the Czech government stand up to an emerging nuclear power? Or would it fold and take the easy way? It was likely Daryl would be held at the least and it was not out of the question she’d be charged with a crime of some kind. He told her what he was thinking.
“I’m not sticking around,” she said. “I need to get out of Dodge immediately. We both do. I’ll text any answers to questions the Czechs might have from the safety of an undisclosed location. What will the Swiss police do about you, do you think?”
“I don’t know. They’re upset with me, I’m sure. Maybe more.”
“We’re victims in this. And we aren’t without friends.”
“Maybe. I can’t be certain that’s how they’ll see this.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? We’re getting out of this country before that body is found. And we need to stop this woman if we can, don’t we? She’ll be in Turkey today. Once there she’ll just vanish. No one will be able to find her.” She thought a moment then said, “What about just calling her? We’ve got her number.”
Jeff shook his head. “She’s not going to listen to me and she doesn’t know you. It will just alert her and she’ll move even faster.”
“Maybe it will scare her off. She doesn’t sound very committed to this last trip.”
“I don’t think we can take that chance, do you?”
Daryl thought a momen
t then said, “She’s probably at the Prague airport waiting on the next flight to Turkey. How many can there be? Let’s worry about the rest after we’ve found her.”
44
PRAGUE 3, CZECH REPUBLIC
KRASOVA 702/34
9:16 A.M. CET
They’d done a good job, Ahmed realized. He was tightly bound and not going to be able to get loose. The worst part was Karim’s body lying not that far away. Ahmed twisted and turned away from the gruesome sight.
How long would he lay here gagged? Did Karim ever have visitors? It was possible he could lay like this until he died. Now that would be a truly miserable death.
He’d told too much, he reminded himself. They hadn’t even tortured him. The mere threat was all it had taken. He was disgusted. But it was that woman. He’d have stood up to the man, he’d seen his humanity and had been willing to risk that he’d not take those final steps. But the woman . . .
He’d never seen anyone like her. He’d read somewhere that in earlier times the worst fate of any captive was to be turned over to a tribe’s women. Now he understood. After what he’d done to her she’d been capable of doing whatever was necessary to him, and very likely enjoying every minute of it. He hoped to Allah he never laid eyes on her again.
He twisted himself again and tested his binding. She’d tied him up, of course. He could already feel his hands growing numb.
And what to report to Hamid? He would want to know what they’d done to him to make him talk; worse, he might require he return to Iran for examination, so Ahmed couldn’t risk lying. Karim and Ali were dead. While he couldn’t reasonably be blamed for Ali’s death whose assignment had come directly from Hamid, he would be blamed for Karim’s. The killing in Geneva had carried no great risk; the worst outcome other than failure would have been Ali’s capture. The Swiss police were not known for using violence needlessly. He wondered what Ali had done to get himself shot. Or had it been some kind of terrible accident? Either way, the target was dead and that counted more than the life of a single agent.
Karim was another matter. Twice a prisoner had managed to escape, first the man, then the woman. In the process his Geneva operation had been disrupted and now his second operative killed. How was he going to explain it?
His hands were numb now. He might lose them if he just lay here. Then he had it. He should have thought of the solution sooner. He twisted, then twisted again, and began making his way slowly across the floor like some exotic insect. It was exhausting. He’d rest, then do it again, each time moving an inch or two toward the far wall. He’d reach it eventually. Then he’d point his feet toward the wall and start kicking. Eventually someone would come. At least he hoped someone would hear him and come.
Just then the door flew open and in rushed two Asian men, the first brandishing a pistol. They took in Karim’s body and Ahmed in a single professional glance, then checked both the tiny kitchen and wardrobe for anyone else.
Wu closed the door while Li checked the man lying in blood. In Mandarin he said, “Dead. An hour I think.”
Wu moved to Ahmed. “Your friend?” he asked in English.
Ahmed nodded.
Wu recalled the photo he’d seen in the file. “You are Ahmed Hossein al-Rashid.” He said it as a statement of fact.
Ahmed hesitated, then nodded.
“We are friends. I’m going to remove your gag and untie you. We are friends.” He told Li to see to it while he took a seat at the table in one of the wooden chairs. Once Ahmed was free Li all but carried him over and planted him in the other chair.
“Get him water,” Wu ordered. “How do you feel?”
“I am fine.”
“You’ve had a rough go of it, it’s obvious. What happened to your friend?”
“Who are you two? Why does he have my computer?”
Wu smiled. “My name is George, his is Hanson,” he lied. “We’re here to retrieve those two laptops you got from the American couple. You should have received a message to keep them safe.”
China. That was no surprise. Ahmed had long suspected what he was passing along could only be coming from China. “I only had one, the woman’s, but it’s gone.”
Li came over with a glass of water and placed it in front of Ahmed. Wu told Li to help him as he couldn’t use his hands yet. Li lifted it to Ahmed’s lips and he gulped the water down eagerly. “More.” Li returned to the kitchen.
“What happened here?” Wu asked again.
Ahmed thought quickly. They knew about the computers. That message had come directly from Hamid.
“The woman killed Karim. I arrived almost immediately afterward, too late to save him. Then the man came and”—his cheeks burned with shame at the recollection—“they took me prisoner and left me here. They have both computers,” he said hopefully. “They’ve not been gone long.”
“What are their names?” Wu asked as he pulled out his iPhone. Ahmed told him and a moment later Wu had a photograph taken of Jeff and Daryl at a computer conference in Las Vegas the previous year. She was stunning. “They are CIA?”
It occurred to Ahmed that these ruthless men might very well kill the couple for him. “I think so. They are highly skilled agents, computer experts as well. I would take no chances with them.”
Li set the glass down. Ahmed reached forward with his two hands now burning as the blood rushed back into them. By being very careful he was able to lift the glass to his lips and drink.
“Where can we find them?” Wu asked.
“A woman named Saliha Kaya is traveling to Ankara, Turkey, with an important message for my government. These CIA spies intend to stop her. They are probably at the airport right now.”
“I need details of this Kaya woman.”
“My phone,” Ahmed said with a slight smile. “Everything is there. Even a photograph.” He looked at Li. “May I have my computer, please?”
45
PRAGUE 6, CZECH REPUBLIC
PRAGUE-RUZYNE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
12:06 P.M. CET
The morning flight from Prague to Ankara had left promptly at 11:45 A.M. Jeff and Daryl had missed catching Saliha by minutes.
“Now what?” Daryl asked, slumping in a chair. She glanced at her bandaged hand and made a face. It hurt like hell.
“We find the next flight, book tickets, then replace our phones.”
Daryl looked at her stained pants with disgust. “I need to buy clothes and it wouldn’t hurt me a bit to wash up. I look like a bag lady.”
Forty-five minutes later they were booked on Lufthansa flight 1691 with a change of planes in Munich, then direct from there to Ankara. As for their needs, Prague-Ruzyne International Airport was one of the most modern and convenient in Europe. At an Apple Store, Daryl picked up a replacement iPhone. Not far away Jeff acquired an HTC Galaxy with the Windows OS he preferred.
While she went shopping for clothes, Jeff waited outside the store and configured his phone to access the high-security e-mail server he and Daryl used. In less than ten minutes he’d retrieved his e-mail, contacts, and calendar. The first message he sent was to Frank Renkin, giving him his new cell-phone number. Once Daryl was finished shopping she’d do the same, then was going to call Bridget directly with word she was safe and thanks for her help.
When Jeff decided he’d waited long enough he punched Frank’s contact to dial his number. They didn’t have a lot of time. Their flight was boarding in fifteen minutes.
Frank answered. “Yes?”
“Frank, it’s Jeff. Daryl’s safe, she’s with me right now.”
“Jeff! Thank God! Are you two all right?”
“We’re fine except for some bruises.” Jeff told Frank what happened. “We’re at the Prague airport right now. We’ve booked a flight to Ankara. We have the mule’s address there and hope to catch her.” He gave Frank all the information they had on Saliha. “How dependable do you think the information about the Tusk patch is?”
“Wait a minute. Let’s back up he
re. You say Daryl killed one of the kidnappers and left his body in a Prague apartment?”
“She didn’t have any choice, Frank. It was either him or her.”
“And you haven’t called the police?”
“There hasn’t been time and we lost our cell phones. We only just got replacements. We’ve been trying to stop Saliha.”
“Let me think about this a minute.” There was a long pause, then Frank resumed. “Look, this Ahmed is an Iranian agent for certain. We’ve had him on the radar for over a year. At this point though you know more about him than we do. What I’m about to tell you couldn’t be any more secret so careful where you tell Daryl. The rollout for Tusk started on April 1, April Fool’s Day. So far no sign of penetration. Frankly, I’ve suspected your abduction was related but from what you tell me that doesn’t appear to be the case. We’ve found an ingenious way to jump the Iranian air gap. Your zero day Android vulns proved invaluable.” Frank told him how it was planned to work. “With this UNOG mess there isn’t any report. Right now our hopes are on Tusk but it will take time. I don’t know if we have enough. The countermeasure is, of course, Chinese. We have no idea if it will work but their earlier versions I’m told have blunted the first two versions of our stuff. It’s going to work at least somewhat, perhaps as good as your man bragged. I’m concerned about the delay in our current rollout. I’ll meet with the lady running our show out there and my guess is she’ll put some wheels in motion but you two are hot on the trail. I can’t tell you what to do but if you think you can find this woman and get that code back without any danger to yourselves then you’ll be doing us a great service. If there’s risk, let those trained for this sort of thing handle it.”
Frank assured Jeff he’d get all the information he could that might be of help and would text it as it became available. “Don’t let anything happen to you two, all right? You don’t have to save the world. There’s always another way.”
Trojan Horse Page 26