“First, this is not how I envisioned my next vacation. Just in case any of you were curious,” said Berg, getting the last of the laughter out of their systems.
“I think we can all agree that none of what has happened over the past twenty-four hours is a jumble of coincidences. This is all connected somehow, and I’m still not fully convinced it’s the Russians.”
“Sanderson is pretty convinced,” said Munoz.
“I want to go over what we know and expand our theory base if warranted,” said Berg. “I’d like Audra Bauer to take over at this point, because she does this kind of thing for a living, and as the newest addition to the island of misfit operatives and intelligence officers, I think she’s the least biased. Audra?”
Audra Bauer rose from the couch next to Berg and moved toward Graves and Gupta, who sat at a long Shaker-style table that supported all of their electronics gear. The table had been moved from the dining room and placed flush against a long bank of windows overlooking the pool and forested backyard. She stopped a few feet away from them and nodded at the group.
“Most of you don’t know me personally, though our paths have crossed. I don’t think it’s any secret that I work at the CIA. I was deputy director of the National Clandestine Service when those paths crossed, so I know about the background events potentially contributing to this sudden outbreak of kidnapping events. I’ve always been both impressed by and thankful for your work, even if I cringed every time I heard Sanderson’s name.”
“You’re not the only one,” said Daniel.
“I’ll second that shit,” said Jackson, and the group shared an uneasy laugh.
“Seriously, I just want to set the record straight. I believe in Sanderson’s work. Your work,” said Bauer. “The fact that any of you are here is a testament to the program.”
“Sanderson can be persuasive,” said Daniel.
“He’s a smart guy, with a solid knack for seeing the bigger picture,” said Bauer, pointing at Berg. “Same with this guy.”
“So how do we do this?” asked Jackson.
“Right now, we need to share what we know and piece things together. Here’s how I’d like to do it,” said Audra. “I ask directed, big-picture questions and get brief answers. If anyone disagrees they speak up. I’ll gradually narrow the questions until we get as close to a consensus as possible. Sound good?”
Everyone nodded or mumbled agreement. Berg had made the right choice putting her in charge. Audra facilitated decisions faster and more accurately than any high-level CIA officer he’d ever worked for during his thirty-plus-year career. Until True America stepped into the White House, he was convinced she’d sit behind the director’s desk one day.
“Let’s start in Chicago, with the attempted Petrovich abduction-murder. What do we know about the attack’s motivations?”
“Well justified in Srecko Hadzic’s mind. No question about that,” said Berg, glancing at Daniel, who nodded in agreement.
Jessica was missing from the group, which Berg still found to be highly unusual. She’d felt dizzy after planting the GPS tracker, according to Daniel. He didn’t press for a better answer. Daniel looked pretty short on patience, and he’d given up trying to figure out the Petroviches. He barely had the mental energy to focus on the problem at hand.
“What stands out as odd?” said Audra. “Big picture.”
Munoz answered, ostensibly as Sanderson. “Hadzic had been confirmed as killed in a botched attempt to rescue him from the United Nations Detention Unit at The Hague. There’s no way this could be covered—”
“Hold on,” said Bauer. “The shorter your answers, the better. Let’s get to the heart of the matter. Did Hadzic have the money and contacts necessary to make this happen?”
“Unlikely,” said Munoz.
“But not impossible,” Berg countered. “He still had several million dollars floating around and a devoted group of followers.”
“So we really can’t move beyond theories regarding Chicago,” said Bauer.
“I suppose not,” said Daniel, clearly not happy with the assessment.
“Let’s move on to Karl’s abduction,” said Audra. “What was different?”
“The team that kidnapped me was American. Military-style contractors, if I had to guess,” said Berg, instantly realizing she’d correct him.
“Let’s not guess,” said Audra. “Mr. Graves?”
The flat-screen TV mounted above the fireplace mantel activated, displaying a face with a red hole in the center of its forehead.
“Jesus,” said Audra’s husband.
Audra nodded curtly. “Sanderson’s people know how to shoot.”
“Bottom of the stairs,” said Munoz.
“Sorry. I would have done this in private, but there hasn’t been a spare minute since I got back,” said Audra. “Darryl, we’ll go through these quickly, on the off chance you recognize one of them. Mr. Jackson works in this industry and has extensive contacts throughout.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Jackson.
The grotesque slide show proceeded until the fifth image.
“Hold up,” said Jackson.
Berg recognized the face. The man with two bullet holes in the upper forehead had been his chief torturer in the farmhouse cellar.
“You know him?” asked Berg.
“I don’t know for sure,” said Jackson, “but I swear I’ve seen him at Brown River. He’s not a member of the Special Operations Division. I know that much.”
“What do we know about this guy, Graves?”
“FRD identifies him as Samuel Harper. Staff sergeant in Force Recon, back when that was still a thing.”
“FRD?” Jackson queried.
“Facial Recognition Database,” said Graves. “Kind of like the federal fingerprint database, but for faces.”
“I didn’t know they had that kind of shit,” said Jackson.
“It’s part of the Next Gen Identification program. DNA, facial recognition, voice recognition, fingerprints. Big Brother stuff,” said Graves.
“Back to Harper, please,” Bauer prompted.
“Yep. Sorry. Harper got out of the Marine Corps in 2004 and worked for KBR in Iraq.”
“We provided security for the vast majority of KBR installations and convoys in Iraq. Still do. That’s it?” said Jackson.
“The trail stops with KBR, aside from a P.O. box in Fredericksburg, Virginia,” stated Graves.
Berg met Jackson’s eyes. This wasn’t good news.
“Brown River is based in Fredericksburg,” said Jackson. “What about the rest of the team?”
“All ex-military special forces, with P.O. boxes in—”
“Let me guess,” Jackson cut in. “Fredericksburg, Virginia.”
“We have possible employees of Brown River involved in Berg’s kidnapping.”
“Possible?” interrupted Graves.
“We’ll get to that,” said Bauer, cutting off Graves. “Karl, what did they want from you, beyond what we already discussed?”
Berg swallowed hard, thankful for her discretion. She understood the risks involved for his contact in Moscow.
“They wanted to know everything I knew about Reznikov’s current whereabouts, which is nothing.”
“So they sought very specific information to Reznikov?”
“Yes. A few days after I brought information about Reznikov to your attention.”
“Noted,” she said. “To recap, Berg’s abduction has no apparent direct tie to Jessica Petrovich’s, though the timing is suspicious. Berg’s captors were extremely interested in Reznikov’s current whereabouts, in addition to something I can’t share with you.”
Grumbling erupted from the group, which Berg expected. Secrets never sat well when people’s lives were on the line.
“I know what she’s referring to,” said Munoz. “This is the kind of secret you take to your grave. Trust me on this.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Berg. “Did
I really tell you?”
“And Jackson,” said Munoz. “I think the painkillers were talking.”
“Anything else related to Berg’s abduction?” said Bauer, steering them back on course.
“We’re still analyzing phone data,” said Graves.
Bauer nodded. “From what I’m told, you’ll find something if it’s there.”
“Damn skippy,” said Gupta. “Sorry. I felt like I needed to say something.”
“Don’t,” said Graves. “Please.”
“That brings us to tonight,” said Bauer. “Darryl, would you take over for me? I can’t answer my own questions objectively.”
“If you insist,” said Jackson, standing up. “Not sure I can match your style, but I’ll sure as shit try. First question is for Karl. How the fuck did you know they were all over her?”
Berg was thrown off by the question and the gruff tone. “Uhhhh…I didn’t. It was a theory. If it didn’t pan out, no harm, no foul.”
“Aside from one very pissed-off Audra Bauer and her husband,” said Jackson.
“Stick to questions,” said Bauer. “Big picture. Actually, there’s only one question you need to ask.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” said Jackson, appearing to think carefully. “All right. What was different about tonight?”
“Multiple vehicles following Bauer. A team set to grab her in the coffee shop parking lot. Itchy trigger fingers,” said Melendez.
Jackson shook his head. “Wrong question.”
“How did they know where Karl and Audra planned to meet?” Jackson probed.
Bauer nodded her approval while Berg refrained from answering. He needed the conclusion to be drawn from someone who hadn’t initially resisted the Russian theory. Abraham Sayar gave the answer he was looking for.
“Bauer’s phone is tapped.”
Jackson knew where to go with the answer. “Karl, what phone did you use to pass the meeting location and time to Audra?”
“Can I answer?” said Gupta.
“Go ahead,” said Jackson.
“On the most encrypted, secure-ass motherfucking satellite phone there is.”
“Thanks for the colorful description,” said Jackson. “Audra? How did you take Karl’s call?”
“On the encrypted phone in my office.”
“Karl, did you involve or inform anyone outside of this group about tonight’s plan?”
“No.”
“Has anyone else? Only answer if you have,” said Jackson.
Everyone shook their heads, mumbling.
“What is the likelihood that the Russians have compromised your office phone, Audra?”
“Zero,” she said.
“Bug planted in your bag? On your person somehow?”
She shook her head. “Unlikely. I’m screened for electronics upon entry to the building and again when I get to my floor.”
The conclusion was inescapable.
“Then tonight’s attempted abduction was an inside job,” Jackson concluded. “Inside the CIA, or inside Sanderson’s crew?”
A low discordance of disbelief and muttering started.
“Darryl is right. We can’t individually discount everyone in here based on their word alone. Sorry,” she said. “Graves?”
Sanderson’s lead surveillance tech smirked, a rare show of emotion from the guy, based on what Berg had witnessed from him today.
“Assuming I didn’t rig the game,” said Graves, “I’m confident none of Sanderson’s operatives sent any unauthorized transmissions.”
“How can you be sure?” said David Bauer.
“Because Sanderson is a paranoid motherfucker, as my colleague might say, and insisted that I monitor all of your communications,” said Graves. “Unless one of you is hiding a phone or tablet we didn’t manage to detect and infiltrate, the team is clean.”
“Even my phone?” asked Mazurov.
“Especially your phone,” said Graves. “Anyone that’s been out of the direct fold for a while got extra scrutiny.”
“So what do we have?” said Jackson.
“Not much,” admitted Bauer. “My office phone or the office itself is likely bugged. That indicates an internal problem.”
“Shit,” muttered Berg.
“What?”
“I was in your office talking about Reznikov a few days ago. They came for me first.”
“And I passed on your request to monitor any and all channels for any information about Sokolov or Reznikov.”
“Who’s Sokolov?” asked Daniel.
“Possible accomplice in Reznikov’s recent escape. Long story,” said Berg.
“Escape?”
“The Russians received information that Reznikov was working at a clandestine bioweapons laboratory sponsored by the Solntsevskaya Bratva. The raid failed, but the circumstances surrounding Reznikov’s truly miraculous last minute escape are suspect at best. Sokolov has been one of Reznikov’s personal bodyguards for a few years. His body was not recovered at the site, but the rest of Reznikov’s guards, along with a very high-ranking Bratva commander, were found dead a few miles downriver from the lab. We think Sokolov sold Reznikov to the highest bidder.”
Daniel nodded. “And that bidder is now trying to tie up any loose ends connected to Reznikov.”
“That would be my guess,” Berg agreed.
“Wonderful,” said Daniel. “Any idea who the highest bidder might be?”
Berg had to tread lightly here, because his latest theory sailed straight past conspiracy and landed in uncharted territory. They’d done it once. Why not again? He decided against sharing the theory.
“No. We need more information to start down that path,” said Berg. “Right now, we need to figure out who we can and cannot trust.”
“I don’t trust anyone outside of this room,” said Munoz. “Except for Sanderson.”
“We obviously can’t turn to the CIA,” said Jackson. “I’d cross Brown River off the list too.”
“FBI?” said David Bauer. “I have a few contacts there.”
Berg had almost forgotten about his conversation with Ryan Sharpe.
“Sorry. I forgot something. It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” said Berg. “I called Ryan Sharpe right after I brought the Reznikov intelligence to Audra’s attention, and asked him to facilitate adding Sokolov to as many international terrorist watch lists as he could wrangle. I didn’t explain why I was interested in Sokolov, and I never mentioned Reznikov. I asked for this as a favor. Sharpe is a guy I trust.”
“But we can’t cross him off the list of suspected leaks,” said Bauer.
“Then it looks like we’re back to square one, unless your electronic wizards can conjure up some kind of answer by mixing all of the captured cell phones in a cauldron or something,” said Jackson.
“I wish it worked like that. Be a lot easier than drinking ten cups of coffee between now until dawn,” said Graves. “We’re working on something, but it might take some time.”
“Then we’ll have to expedite the process,” said Jessica.
Everyone turned toward her voice. Jessica stood in the wide, high-arched opening that connected the main hallway with the great room—holding a knife to a man’s throat. The man in her grip had a black bag over his head.
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” said Graves.
“My guess is that this fucker can move things along nicely,” she explained.
Berg glanced at Daniel. “Looks like your wife made a speedy recovery.”
Daniel stood up. “We’ve been working on something.”
“Jesus,” stated Jackson, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now we’re kidnapping people? Did you know about this, Karl?”
“I honestly had no idea,” said Berg, looking to Audra. “Seriously.”
Bauer sighed. “This is officially out of control.”
Jessica wrangled the man into the room.
“The whole thing has been out of control since it started,” said D
aniel. “This might be the only way to get it back under control.”
“Where did he come from?” asked Bauer.
“He was waiting for you in the parking lot behind the Freaky Bird,” said Jessica. “I kind of couldn’t help myself.”
“Nice of you to finally unveil your little secret,” Jackson smirked.
“To be honest, you’ve been the only thing holding it up,” said Munoz.
“Me? Seriously?” said Jackson. “I’m the only motherfucker in this room that can get in his car and go back to a normal life. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. To make sure my best friend doesn’t end up back where you guys found him this afternoon.”
“Sorry if we couldn’t just take your word for it,” said Daniel.
“Who’s we?”
“Everyone except Karl, Audra, and her husband,” Munoz answered. “The possible connection established to Brown River earlier today made us a little nervous.”
“And how exactly does this change things?” asked Bauer. “No offense, Darryl.”
“None fucking taken, I guess,” said Jackson.
Graves explained, “We did some deep digging—”
“That means hacking,” Gupta interrupted.
“Thank you for the unnecessary clarification,” said Graves. “We hacked into Brown River’s payroll database and found Samuel Harper. He makes a lot of money for a contractor.”
“How much?” asked Jackson.
“One hundred and fifty thousand. Salaried.”
“Salaried? Security contractors aren’t salaried.”
“Definitely salaried. We also found a onetime payment of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars paid two months ago.”
“Sounds like a onetime sign-up bonus, though we stopped those three years ago,” said Jackson.
“Apparently not,” said Daniel.
“Let’s cut to the point here,” said Jackson. “How does this supposedly clear me for your circle of trust?”
“You never left the circle,” said Berg. “We just needed to find someone bigger than Harper involved at Brown River to fully convince Sanderson’s people.”
“This guy?” asked Jackson, pointing at the hooded man.
“Yes. We found our new guest on the payroll too,” said Graves. “But his pay structure was a little higher.”
OMEGA: A Black Flagged Thriller (The Black Flagged Series Book 5) Page 22