by J D Lasica
At that moment she struck a slick patch of ice she hadn’t seen. Her Beretta flew out of her hand into a snowbank. The thought flashed across her mind to stop, find the gun, take aim, and take out Savić. She didn’t like those odds. She continued down the black diamond trail.
She glanced back and saw that Savić was gone. Must have taken a side trail.
“Amelia, call up a map of Wildspitz terrain. Look for steep vertical exit routes up ahead.”
Five seconds later, Amelia projected a turnoff two hundred yards ahead—a steep cliff that plunged into a craggy ravine at a seventy-degree angle. “Chance of survival, twenty-two percent.”
She didn’t much care for those odds. “What’s the snow coverage?”
A few seconds passed. No answer.
“Amelia? Are you there?”
She realized what was happening. She was out of Wi-Fi range. At the worst possible moment.
She looked back and saw Savić had rejoined the trail. He was right on her tail now, forty yards behind. He came to a skidding stop and took out his rifle as she reached the cliff.
She could raise her hands in surrender. Or veer off to the right and jump off a cliff with a one-in-five chance of survival.
She jumped.
Dražen Savić churned through the snow to the edge of the cliff and peered down into the ravine. He felt a sense of relief mixed with triumph. There was no way the target could survive a fall at such a steep angle into a dark chasm of jagged ice, exposed rocks, and spindly underbrush.
His phone rang. Lucid calling.
“Yes,” he answered in his native Croatian.
“Savić, you’re needed back at home base. Did you find the target?”
“She won’t be a problem anymore.” Unless miracles happen.
“Good. Do you have proof?”
“I’ll need time—”
“We don’t have time. We’re packing up and leaving now.”
This was unexpected. He didn’t like unexpected. “Why?”
“Because your security detail didn’t do its job!” Lucid sounded angrier than he’d ever heard him.
He wondered what in God’s name his boss was talking about. “I’ll be back within the hour.”
“That’s too late. Meet us at the airport.”
Savić peered over the edge, looking for any sign of a body he could bring back as a trophy of triumph. But there was no time to descend the steep trail. Savić cursed the darkness. He continued down the black diamond run toward the base station and the après ski bar filled with Westerners he hoped would soon meet the fate they deserved.
33
Zug, Switzerland
Maxim Volkov sat in the darkness and tried to contain his fury.
He flicked off the lights in his enclosure and watched as all hell broke loose on the other side of the partition. Each of the billionaires had many enemies, any one of whom might be willing to exploit the secret plans he’d just laid out. Paranoia ran deep.
Abdullin, Zhang, Kruger, Broz, and Alcivar all left the room in various stages of anger and alarm. Kasparian returned after ordering his men to fan out. He slumped into his chair and stared at the small broken object in his palm. He shook his head and turned to face the darkness.
Volkov raised his voice. “How could you let this happen?”
Kasparian frowned. “We swept the entire estate for bugs. Not once, but twice! We made a last pass of this room earlier today. I stationed a half dozen of my men at all the entry points and sent guards to patrol the outside grounds. I don’t know how this could have happened.”
“It’s an outrage.”
“It’s unfortunate.” Kasparian brought the crumpled object closer to his face. “I’ll have this sent to my lab for analysis. Perhaps we’ll be able to tell whose it is.”
By the size of the mini-drone in Kasparian’s hand, Volkov knew it was almost certainly American made. Perhaps Kaden Baker was working with the U.S. military.
“On another matter,” Volkov said. “Your son?”
“He is still young. He will not say a word to anyone. I give you my word.”
“Good.” Volkov closed the books on the matter. His anonymity was still intact among the group where it mattered most. He had enough disasters on his plate.
“Where do we go from here?” Kasparian asked.
“Send in my man. Lucid. He will contact each of our members in due time.”
Kasparian nodded, rose, and left the room without further comment. A minute later, Lucid entered and looked at the empty seats.
“Lucid.” Volkov piped his voice over the loudspeakers, giving his COO a start. “You’ve heard about the breach. How do you explain it? Why didn’t your men catch it?”
Lucid remained standing and grasped that Volkov was on the other side of the dark partition. “I can only theorize, Chairman. This next generation of spy drones can be launched from a good distance, with sensors that allow them to exploit any small vulnerability in a building or room.” He scanned the room’s ceiling and saw the grate with half-inch square openings. “Taking advantage of ventilation ducts, for example.”
That still doesn’t explain how they knew the Compact was meeting here.
Volkov told Lucid the bottom the line. “We were interrupted before I could get a final reading of the room about Project Ezekiel. And now we’re not certain if our plans have been compromised by an outside party.”
“I see. I suggest that we wait for a while and see what the fallout is. Let things cool off. Or we scale back our plans.”
Volkov considered this. It would be the obvious thing to do. Lie low. Draw up a new course of action. Execute it in a few months with buy-in from the Compact after new security measures are put into place. That’s what most leaders would do.
But he was a man apart. He was carrying out Project Ezekiel—a divine-inspired grand design. The words of Ezekiel 25:17 came to him:
I will carry out great vengeance on them and punish them in my wrath.
“No. Here is what we will do.” He took a deep, calming breath to put this fiasco behind him.
“I want a stepped-up effort to find and neutralize Kaden Baker. She may have been behind this incursion.”
“Savić says the target has been eliminated.”
“So someone else was behind this?”
“It appears so.”
“I see. We need to circle the wagons tighter. In one hour I’ll be flying out to my offices on the island.” This security breach was unacceptable, and Lucid oversaw security for the corporation. Volkov would fly to Samana Cay to supervise events directly.
“Can I ask why? You’ve only been to Samana Cay twice before,” Lucid pointed out. The first visit came when Volkov assessed the island for purchase. The second trip came when the virtual reality theme parks opened.
“I want to check on our security protocols. And I want to experience Fantasy Live directly.”
Lucid blanched and took a moment to collect himself. “Certainly, Chairman. Should I accompany you on the Falcon?”
“No. We’ll be taking separate flights.” There were no separate compartments on his Dassault Falcon 8X, and he most certainly did not want to have to deal with face masking technologies on the long flight from Zurich to the island. He would fly solo in the spacious luxury cabin.
“Very well.”
“One last matter. Send a message to Bashir. We’re moving up the timetable for Phase One.”
Lucid paused to take in the moment. “You mean we’re moving beyond the planning and seeding stage? You’re saying to flip the switch and to execute Project Ezekiel?”
“It is time.”
“Starting when, Chairman?”
“Tomorrow. We start tomorrow.”
34
Zug, Switzerland
Kaden shivered in the sub-zero cold. Her eyes fluttered open. It was still dark but no longer snowing. The full moon lit up the snow-covered alpine trees and the mountain peaks beyond.
What happ
ened? Where am I?
She rolled over onto her elbows and surveyed her surroundings, a thicket of spindly brush at the foot of a crazy-steep trail that zigzagged along the face of an enormous hill. A sharp, jagged rock jutted out from the floor of the ravine inches from where she fell.
The night before began to come into focus. Ah, right. The Schwyzer Alps. Wildspitz. A perfect frontside nine. Savić. The descent into oblivion. And then, darkness.
She struggled to her feet. Her right calf was sore and bruised, and her left shoulder stung like a son of a bitch. But she thought nothing was broken. She looked down at the board that helped break her fall. It lay broken in half at her feet. She left it there rather than explain at the register that a hitman had tried to take her out.
She worked her way up the hill, a foot at a time, and it may have taken two or three hours to reach the top. She wondered whether Savić would be waiting there to finish the job, but at the top she was met only by a white landscape, silent and indifferent. She wobbled her way to base camp, fighting through the pain.
Her teeth were chattering by the time she made it into the breakfast cafe where the staff expressed shock and alarm at her overnight accident. Nico was waiting in a corner of the cafe after searching for her for hours. The ski resort crew fed her and provided a warm new jacket. The medical staff treated her injuries, putting a bandage on her calf and giving her a mild painkiller for her shoulder. The resort gave her and Nico a complimentary shuttle ride back to Zug.
She found Bo and the rest of Red Team Zero in the hotel restaurant having an early breakfast. Carlos seemed especially hungry, wolfing down a huge spread of soft Butter-Zopf bread, pastries, yogurt, coffees, and cheese from Switzerland’s Fribourg region.
“Thank God.” Bo scrambled to his feet and came up to hug her. He brushed the hair from her forehead and examined the scratches on her face. “Nico called me an hour ago. We were planning to form a search party. Are you all right?”
“A little sore. You should’ve seen me shred that last run.”
“The frontside nine?” Nico asked.
“No. The one into the ravine.”
“Ravine?” Bo said.
“Long story.”
Bo scooted over in the booth to make room for her. “We saved you a seat.”
A waitress took her order. A double kaffee-crème, which as far as she could tell was just a big ol’ jolt of espresso with cream.
“I want to hear what happened,” Bo said. “But do you want to hear our news first?”
She nodded. She was distraught at not being able to take out Savić. She wanted to know what they’d turned up.
“After you sent us the Ezekiel file, we tracked down the people putting together the operation. I’ve sent it on to some people I trust at DIA. Just sent you a copy of the surveillance footage.”
“That’s good,” Kaden said.
“And now we have a lead on the girls,” Judy said.
“Solid?” Kaden asked.
“I wouldn’t say solid.” Carlos seemed circumspect. “But we have a possible location.”
“And it’s thanks to you,” Bo said.
She was feeling bummed that she abandoned the operation he had put together to find Bailey and the other girls when she went all psycho about finding Savić. So Bo’s words were surprising and reassuring.
“How so?”
“Without your name turning up, we never would have been led to the Compact.”
“The Compact?” she asked.
“Long story.” Tosh smiled. “We’ll fill you in later. But there was a snippet we caught about young girls on an island paradise called Samana Cay.”
Samana Cay. That was the same island her friend Alex was heading to. “Isn’t that the resort for one percenters in the Caribbean? Used to be part of the Bahamas?”
Tosh bit into a pastry before answering. “Everyone thinks the Bahamas is in the Caribbean, but it’s not. It’s just off the coast of Florida, and Samana Cay is right next door. So we’re flying out later today to the Bahamas.”
“Why not directly to Samana Cay?”
This time Bo answered. “They don’t allow weapons into Samana Cay. We’ve arranged for all our gear to be transported directly from the airport in Nassau to a boat we’ve rented.”
“Well that’s … that’s good!”
She looked around the table, but everyone seemed subdued. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong.”
Nico looked puzzled, too, unable to get a read on whatever secret the group was holding back.
“Kaden,” Bo began. “I received a communication this morning from my contact at the Justice Department. Just printed it out. It’s for you.”
“For me?”
“It’s not good. I did what I could.”
The waitress set down her kaffee-crème as the table went silent. She read the one-page letter. It came with a Department of Justice seal and letterhead at the top.
Dear Kaden Baker:
You are the target of an investigation by a Grand Jury sitting in Dallas, Texas surrounding events that occurred in this jurisdiction on or about August 31 of this year. In connection with that investigation, you are hereby invited to testify before the Grand Jury convening on or about November 12.
As a Grand Jury witness, you will be asked to testify and answer questions and to produce records and documents. Only the members of the Grand Jury, attorneys for the United States and a stenographer are permitted in the Grand Jury room while you testify.
We advise you that the Grand Jury is conducting an investigation of possible violations of federal criminal laws involving, but not necessarily limited to, Felony Murder. You are advised that the destruction or alteration of any document required to be produced before the grand jury constitutes a serious violation of federal law, including but not limited to Obstruction of Justice.
You are advised that you are a target of the Grand Jury's investigation. You may refuse to answer any question if a truthful answer to the question would tend to incriminate you. Anything you do or say may be used against you in a subsequent legal proceeding. If you have retained counsel, the Grand Jury will permit you a reasonable opportunity to step outside the Grand Jury room and confer with counsel as you desire.
Cordially,
Nancy M. Richardson
Assistant United States Attorney
“What is this?” she asked.
“A target letter,” Bo said.
“Felony murder?” Kaden’s mouth fell open.
“I’m sorry.” Streaks of pain creased his face.
“What happened to our plea deal? To me pleading guilty to transporting a firearm across state lines or something? That’s part of the reason I’m here.”
“It fell apart. The black hats won the day. Must be outside forces with considerable leverage.”
The news bowled her over. It was only a few weeks ago, but in her mind it seemed as fresh as yesterday. She, Nico, and two cohorts from boot camp followed leads that brought them to the Birthrights Unlimited campus in Dallas. They discovered a building where over a hundred women were being held against their will, including the surrogate for Valerie Ramirez, Alex Wyatt’s girlfriend. After the Birthrights founder took a hostage and began firing at her, she returned fire.
“But I have a witness. Valerie Ramirez. She saw the whole thing.”
“They have witnesses, too. Employees who saw you break in, shoot out the windows, endanger the patients and clinic staff, and get into a firefight. Or that’s what they’ll claim.”
Unreal. I can’t believe this is happening.
“What do we do?”
“First, we get you a lawyer. Then we have to decide where you go from here.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have two options. First, you could fly back, testify this week, tell your side of the story, and hope they don’t return an indictment. But if the black hats in Justice are gunning for you, they could have you arrested by the end of the same day.
They could hold you for months without bail.”
“And Option B?”
“We wait it out. Maybe get you into a country with no extradition agreement with the U.S. I could have Tosh and Carlos start looking into who’s pressuring Justice to bring charges.”
“Those aren’t very good choices.”
“They’re not,” he agreed.
She pressed her back against the booth and felt the sting of her shoulder injury. “And you guys are off to Samana Cay.”
Bo looked at the others around the table. “That’s right. We’ll be posing as tourists.” He put his hand on top of hers. “Or I could stay here with you. It’s Switzerland, after all.”
She locked eyes with him. She couldn’t have him choose her over Bailey. His legit daughter.
“I’m coming with you.”
Samana Cay map
Map of Samana Cay and major landmarks.
35
Samana Cay
Volkov revved his Harley-Davidson FXDR 114 and sailed down the ramp leading out of the oversize rear door on his Dassault Falcon. He much preferred these flamboyant blasts onto the scene than an under-the-radar entrance with all the tense prep work that being Incognito required.
He spent the morning tooling around Samana Cay, taking in all the new buildings and tourist attractions that had sprung up since his last visit a year ago.
At noon he peeled down Columbus Highway along the eastern spine of the island and called up Lucid. His right-hand man touched down an hour ago and should be settled in by now. As usual, he’d see what Lucid was up to but not the other way around.
“Chairman, welcome back to the island.”
“I see my dollars have been hard at work.”
“The main attractions are drawing record crowds. Three cruise ships in port today. And in Sector Two, the Lab is humming along nicely while Immersion Bay is maxed out.”