The Zombie Deception

by Marvin Wolf

  Chelmin said, “Hold on. Why ship half-made notes? Why not just finish the job?”

  Lockwood smiled. “Because Chinese criminal organizations with ties to the People’s Liberation Army often use shipping containers from legitimate sources to smuggle contraband—drugs, counterfeit goods, weapons, and so forth, through major US ports. They’ve also smuggled Pyongyang’s counterfeit hundred-dollar notes, in relatively small quantities. And they control the smuggling routes.”

  Ash said, “So you’re saying that shipping unfinished notes discourages the Chinese from stealing them?”

  “Give the lady a gold star. And, by doing intaglio press work in Iran, they don’t risk sending a precious plate out of the country. All they need was a partial plate, to fill in the missing details. If that is lost, no big deal.”

  Will said, “These people sound incredibly well organized.”

  Lockwood nodded agreement. “Very much so. We believe that at the US end of this operation, printing is completed on one or more small offset presses.”

  Steve said, “How big would one of those presses be?”

  “About the size of a small car,” Lockwood said.

  Ash said, “Do you have a theory about distribution within the US?”

  Lockwood nodded yes. “We suspect that the Alabama operation is not the only one running. But we don’t know anything yet—that will have to wait for the Federal Reserve audit. A Treasury technical task force is being assembled to automate the screening process.”

  Steve said, “Are they considering high-speed scanning coupled with a pattern recognition algorithm?”

  Lockwood shook his head. “Not my area of expertise. Before I leave, I’ll get your card and have the task force contact you.”

  Steve took out a card and slid it across the table to Lockwood.

  “Any other questions?” Lockwood said.

  Chelmin said, “How can we be of assistance?”

  Lockwood shook his head. “You have your own investigation to pursue, and I’ll leave you to it. Anything within policy that we can do to assist, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Will said, “Can you get the National Reconnaissance Office to take some pictures of Fort Rucker with ground-piercing radar and infrared imaging? And do it in the next few days?”

  Lockwood pursed his lips. “That’s a tough one. There’s no budget for things like that. Do you have funding?”

  Will glanced at Chelmin.

  Chelmin said, “What kind of money are you talking about?”

  Lockwood said, “A few years ago when I was working out of Washington, we asked NRO for some real-time images of a particular neighborhood in Baltimore. I can’t go into details—the operation is still classified. Anyway, they billed the Secret Service for $7.5 million. At that point, my boss decided to retire, and his deputy was re-assigned to Anchorage, Alaska.”

  The room went silent.

  Lockwood reached into a coat pocket and came out with a small stack of business cards, which he left on the table. Without another word, he went out the door.

  Chapter 88

  Chelmin got up from the table and looked at Will and Ash. They followed him into his office.

  “Have a seat,” he said as he awkwardly climbed into the chair behind the desk.

  Chelmin opened his mouth to speak, but Elliot Keiser burst through the door, holding his cell phone aloft.

  “Mr. Chelmin,” he began.

  “I got the message from DOD about half an hour ago,” Chelmin said.

  “My phone was turned off,” Elliot said. “I’ve got to get started on that warrant for Mrs. Richardson, but I….”

  “We’re good here,” Chelmin said. “I was just about to share the news with Ash and Will.” The partners glanced at each other as Chelmin swiveled his computer monitor around.

  On the screen were ID photos of seven men.

  “These men disappeared in Afghanistan ten years ago. The one that Ash shot is Sherer, second from left in the top row. Ft. Belvoir confirms that the DNA is a match.”

  Will said, “So they’ve been, maybe, probably, somewhere in the neighborhood of Afghanistan, Turkmenistan or Iran for a decade. Doing God knows what. And now, some or all of them are here moving counterfeit hundreds by the millions.”

  Ash said, “If we ask ourselves, ‘Why here? Why Fort Rucker?’ We might get some insight into their mixture of motivations.”

  Chelmin nodded approval. “Is J.J. Richardson a momma’s boy?”

  Will said, “Could be. Or maybe he’s here because his mom owns a big house Acres and socializes with judges and congressmen. Or because he knows the lay of the land. Because he knew about old lead mines.”

  Ash said, “Or maybe he wanted to see his son.”

  Will said, “That’s a very good point. But the work on at least three abandoned mines on this base took place starting about three years ago. I can’t prove anything, but that booby trap implies that something was going on in there. That suggests that this operation has been in progress for quite a while.”

  Ash said, “The three Green Acres houses were purchased by those offshore frontcompanies three or four years ago.”

  “Maybe J.J. and some of his crew have been here that long?”

  Chelmin said, “Let’s back up. How does it happen that a group of American Army officers disappear in a combat zone, then a decade later re-appear thousands of miles from where they were last seen, and engage in serious crimes, including murder? What might have transpired over those ten years? How might we explain that?”

  Ash said, “I grew up in China, the child of senior US diplomats. I recall overhearing conversations during my formative years about all sorts of rogue Americans in China. Vietnam War deserters, businessmen, criminals, and some of them mixed up in all sorts of mostly illegal things. It’s not so far-fetched to imagine that their helicopter went down in a storm, maybe a dust storm, and they were found not by Taliban forces but by smugglers or some other criminal organization. The border areas are crawling with all sorts.”

  Will said. “Suppose that was the case. Were they jailed or ransomed to the Iranians for exactly this operation? Isn’t that kind of far out speculation, with nothing to support it?”

  “Nothing but a dead man who went missing a decade ago, and millions in high-quality counterfeit notes in the same area,” said Ash. “And the leader of the vanished fliers is the only son of a well-connected Dothan socialite who might have killed Sharon Cole to get her grandson.”

  “If they were taken by bandits for ransom,” suggested Chelmin, “Maybe they found someone who would pay more for these guys than would US authorities because they had a better use for them.”

  “That shouldn’t take ten years,” Will said. “Maybe they were rotting in some jail for years. This was their way out.”

  Chelmin said, “Okay. Enough. Maybe we now have some clue as to what kind of men we’re dealing with.”

  The phone on Chelmin’s desk rang, and he picked it up, said his name, and listened. Then he passed the phone to Ash. “Sheriff Taliaferro,” he whispered.

  Ash said, “Hi Andrea, how can I help you?”

  After listening for several seconds, she said, “We might know something about this. Will and I will brief you right away.”

  Ash handed the phone back to Chelmin and gestured that he should hang up.

  Ash said, “About thirty minutes ago, J.J. Richardson V, age ten, was taken from his classroom by a woman who showed him a CID credential.”

  Chapter 89

  Sitting next to Ash as she slowly navigated Rucker’s broad avenues, Will’s mind spun. There were so many things that he wanted to say. He didn’t know where to start.

  Ash said, “Will. We need to talk about last night.”

  “Yeah. We do. But I don’t know how to start,” Will said.

  Ash said, “. It was the most thrilling night of my life. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I’ve never spent the night with a man. I’ve never had an orgasm.
You must have been the Don Juan of Barstow.”

  Will said. “I’ve been with exactly three women. One I almost married. But Ash, I don’t think we should do it again.”

  Ash braked sharply and pulled to the curb behind the base exchange. “You don’t have feelings for me? I wasn’t skilled enough?” she said, ice edging every syllable.

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant. Ash, it isn’t fair to you. Quick as we lock these zombies up, I’m going back to flying. God knows where I’ll be posted. Maybe Korea, Germany, Afghanistan—somewhere far away. You… I don’t think you’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em woman. So it’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t get too invested in me. You’ll probably be here at least two or three more years. I’m sure they’ll make you SAC. If you asked for a transfer to be near me, you’d lose the promotion.”

  “Let’s put SAC aside, Will. We have dangerous jobs. What happened to Alvie could happen to any of us. You could take one chance too many in flight. Should we then decide never to get involved with another person? Never to love and be loved?”

  Will sat back, silent, his head swimming. “I think that I do love you, Ash. Or at least, I really want to love you. And I never knew how much I needed to feel loved until I met you. I just don’t want to, hurt your career or break your heart when I have to leave Fort Rucker.”

  Ash opened her arms and Will leaned forward to hug her.

  “We take this one night at a time,” she said. “You’ve already screwed up my career plans. But I’ll get over it.”

  “Make it up to me later,” she said and sat back. As she did so, Will caught a glimpse of the driver’s side rearview mirror: A man with a gun. Will rolled to his right across the seat, kicked the door open and leaped out, his Glock out of its holster.

  Ten feet away, on his side of the car, a man raised a handgun.

  Will fired.

  The man fired wildly as he went down.

  “Drop it, or I’ll kill your girlfriend,” said a man’s voice and Will whirled to see the second man. His left arm imprisoned both of Ash’s arms and she dangled a foot off the ground. His Browning 9mm was pointed at her head.

  Will brought his Glock up and aimed at his right eye.

  Ash said, “Take the shot!” and brought her right heel down hard against the man’s groin.

  The man flinched and Will fired.

  The man fired as he fell backward.

  Ash disappeared from Will’s view.

  Chapter 90

  Will ran around the car to find Ash crouching, gripping her gun with two hands.

  “Great shot,” Ash said, trembling, her voice unsteady.

  “I didn’t think. I was out of my mind. I could have killed you,” he said, his voice breaking.

  “Stop it,” Ash said, climbing to her feet and holstering her gun. “If you didn’t shoot him, he’d have killed us both.”

  A sedan with MP markings roared up and braked to a halt. Behind Will and Ash, a crowd gathered.

  Four MPs jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

  The shortest one, a staff sergeant looked at Ash. “What happened here, Agent Shapiro?”

  Will said, “We noticed a car tailing us. Agent Shapiro pulled to the curb and these guys stopped, got out of their cars and drew guns.”

  Ash glanced at Will. “Sergeant, call for backup, photograph those bodies. Get pictures of their car’s plate and the base sticker. Protect the crime scene. We’ll call Special Agent Chelmin. For now, Agent Spaulding and I have to handle something else.”

  “That’s not procedure,” said the staff sergeant. “I need your weapons.”

  Will took out his cell phone, “I’m going to take a photo of their tag,” he said.

  As he walked to the black SUV, Ash took out her own phone and called Chelmin.

  Will returned from his task as Ash finished her call. She looked at the MP sergeant. “Mr. Chelmin will be here in two minutes,” Ash said. “Let’s wait for him.”

  Some four minutes later, Chelmin got out of an MP Humvee.

  Will said, “We need to see Sheriff Taliaferro,” he said.

  Chelmin walked around the scene, then looked at Will. “You did all the shooting?”

  “Each of them got off one shot. While I was dealing with the guy on my side of the car, the other one grabbed Ash as she was getting out, then used her as a shield.”

  “And you shot him in the eye,” Chelmin said. “Dead-Eye Will.”

  Ash said, “He had to take the shot. And I told him to.”

  “Well done,” said Chelmin. “Both of you. Ash, show me your gun.”

  Biting her lip, Ash, cleared the piece and handed it to Chelmin, who sniffed it, felt the barrel, and handed it back to her.

  Then he removed his gun-belt, and handed it to Will.

  “At a hundred meters, it’s an inch or so toward two o’clock.”

  Wordlessly, Will cleared his Glock and passed it to Chelmin.

  Ash said, “We suspected that we were being followed. I pulled to the curb, and this SUV rolled up behind us. Will got out and shot the guy on his side before I could get out and pull my piece.”

  Chelmin nodded. “Sergeant, if you’ll post a couple of your men to secure the crime scene, I’ll take it from here.”

  Ash took her phone out and called a number from her contacts list. “Randy Dawkins,” she said. A moment later, she identified herself, described the location, and asked Dawkins to bring his CSI team.

  Chelmin said, “You two get along. I’ll hold down the fort until CSI gets here.”

  Chapter 91

  Ash and Will were escorted into Sheriff Taliaferro’s office by a tall, robust man in a good suit that neither of the agents had seen before. He followed them in and sat down in a corner chair.

  Taliaferro rose to shake hands first with Ash and then Will.

  “What happened?” Ash said.

  “Mrs. Richardson was returning from Switzerland,” Taliaferro explained. “When she landed in Atlanta she found a voice mail from the headmistress of the Beauregard Academy saying that an Army CID agent had taken young Jeff out of class that morning.”

  “You’ve interviewed the headmistress?”

  “Meet Agent Michaels of the Alabama Bureau of Investigation,” she said. “He did the interview.”

  Ash and Will rose and turned to regard the tall man.

  “Bret Michaels,” he said, rising to extend his hand.

  After the pleasantries, Michaels said, “Headmistress said this woman showed him a badge and an Army CID ID card.”

  Ash said, “Did she offer a description of this person?”

  Michaels nodded. “We have security video.” He pulled out a big cell phone and touched its screen a few times, then held it out to show Ash and Will.

  In fuzzy black-and-white, Katrina Sawyer walked through the frame. She returned, holding Jeff Richardson by the hand.

  Will said, “We know that woman as Katrina Sawyer. Real name unknown. She was our SAC’s secretary until two days ago. Then she intercepted her rejected security clearance application and must have realized that she had been unmasked. She shot and killed two MPs, and that night she paid a teenager who worked at the Ozark Wal-Mart to drop her car there.”

  “Any idea who she actually is?” said Taliaferro.

  Ash shook her head. “No ID on her prints. We have a notion that she might be connected to a gang we like for a series of abductions and at least one murder.”

  Will said, “We have a warrant for Mrs. Richardson’s arrest. “

  Taliaferro shook her head. “Richardson spoke to the headmistress at length from the Atlanta airport, but she never returned to her home. I’ve had it staked out since the Secret Service was here.”

  Michaels looked surprised. “The Secret Service?”

  Ash said, “Counterfeiting investigation. They’ll be a lot of press about in a day or two, probably.”

  “Thank you, Agent Michaels,” Taliaferro said in a tone of voice indicating that he
was no longer needed.

  “It’s my kidnapping case,” he said, getting to his feet and handing Ash a business card.

  Ash, Will, and the sheriff smiled. “Of course,” Ash said. “Thanks for your help.”

  Both Will’s and Ashe’s cell phones buzzed.

  They read the text messages and got to their feet.

  Ash said, “Sorry Andrea, but we’ve got to split.”

  Chapter 91

  Ash reached beneath her seat and took out a rotating red light that she attached to the car’s roof, then flipped on a siren. They headed for Rucker’s main entrance. MPs waved them through, and as they approached the crime scene, Chelmin beckoned them over.

  With Chelmin was Colonel Moffett and a bloodied MP being worked on by two Emergency Medical Technicians.

  Will said, “What happened?”

  Chelmin said, “Four men with automatic weapons hit the crime scene. Killed one MP where he stood, wounded all three CSI technicians, and wounded the other MP—the one being worked on. The gunmen took the bodies of the two men you shot and drove off in their vehicle.”

  Moffett said, “Bold motherfuckers. Uh, pardon me, Agent Shapiro, but I’m just an old soldier with a foul mouth.”

  Ash shrugged. “No offense taken, Colonel. When?

  Chelmin said, “Maybe five minutes ago.” He turned to Will. “As there isn’t going to be an autopsy, let’s swap weapons,” he said. Will unbuckled the gunbelt and handed it to Chelmin, who returned his Glock.

  “Did anyone see it?”

  Moffett said, “Rudy was briefing me in my command vehicle—” He pointed up the street “—when a black hybrid SUV came out of the parking lot, jumped the curb, crossed the sidewalk and stopped in the middle of the scene. The windows were down by the time they stopped, and they were firing what looked like M4 carbines. They snatched the two bodies, threw them in their car, and one man got behind the wheel of the first SUV and then both vehicles drove away in the direction of the golf course. I called for backup, but by the time the cavalry arrived those bandits seemed to have just melted into the trees.”