“That would be great Johanne. Talk to you then.” Frank answered hanging up the phone.
Johanne heard the connection end and hung up the phone, his adrenaline pumping like it so often did when they were closing in on a case.
* * *
Garrett walked up the last flight of stairs to the apartment, anticipating the comforts of Kit’s safehouse. He unlocked the door and entered, tossing his bags on the floor. Garrett had left one bag behind in Macau since it didn’t make sense to bring his weapons back to Paris. He decided to take a shower and rinse off the travel grime. How odd it was, that no matter how clean you were when you left on a trip, you always felt dirty when you got to where you were going.
As the hot water began reinvigorating him, he thought about Kitten. This whole case would be over for them soon, and he would have some decisions to make. His life back in Atlanta was over for all intents and purposes. He also realized that as stressful as everything had been over these past weeks, he rather missed being involved in such important matters. What they had accomplished really did make a difference in the world and for Garrett it didn’t matter that only a few people would ever know. For him credit was not an issue.
He still cared for Kitten, of that he was certain, but he also knew that any future relationship would be wrought with landmines. His anxiety levels started to raise thinking about it all. Shaking his head, he realized that he was much more comfortable making quick decisions on the fly, rather than the life decisions that required contemplation. His sorrow for the loss of Anna was also still hanging over his spirit.
Garrett got out of the shower and pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet and opened it. He raised his glass in a silent toast to Kit and Anna and lay down in the bed. It wasn’t long before the prior days events caught up to him and he drifted into a deep slumber.
* * *
Kit arrived at the Interpol offices about the same time Garrett had drifted off to sleep. She went straight up to Johanne’s office and plopped into one of his chairs. Johanne looked up and smiled.
“Welcome back, Kit. You’re due for a long vacation.”
“See that I get it!” she demanded. “Hopefully we’ll be able to wrap this up soon.”
“Are you ready or do you want to freshen up first?” the commander inquired.
Kit looked alarmed. “Do I look bad or something?” she asked, feeling the contusion on her face.
Johanne laughed aloud. “No, Kit you don’t look bad. You just got off the plane. I was just trying to be polite.”
“You had me rattled there for a moment, sir. I think we had better get on with this.”
The two of them left and headed for the conference room, motioning the others to join them on the way.
“How are our prisoners?” she asked as they walked. “Any luck with further intel?”
“Well, our friend downstairs is in a foul mood, but she has been informative, mainly by subjects she has avoided. She’ll be spending the rest of her life in prison and she knows it.” Johanne’s mood changed for the worst. “As for our two guests in Hong Kong, they’ve met with a premature death.
“What? How?” she asked in alarm.
“An explosion of some sort where they were being held. Maybe a ruptured gas line or something. We don’t have the full details yet. It just happened this morning,” Johanne answered.
As they entered the conference room and took their respective seats, Kit sat the books Garrett had bought down on the table before her. Johanne brought the meeting to order and then deferred to her. Kit stood and proceeded to address everyone about the events over the past two days, conveniently leaving out any reference to Garrett and changing the details of her return. When she got to the part about seeing the room in the general’s house, she opened the map book and turned it away from her so the others could see.
“The flag was from Kazakstan,” she ended.
“That would make sense,” one of the others spoke. “Kazakstan borders both China and Russia. We found out that his ancestors were from that general region originally so that’s probably his target.”
Several of those around the table nodded in agreement. Kit looked at them, a little confused.
“But why Kazakstan? Because his ancestors were from there?”
“No Kit.” It was Johanne. “Oil.”
“Oil?”
“Yes. That and a number of mineral deposits. Right now, oil is cheap and the Chinese do have a pretty developed petroleum industry, but Kazakstan has rich deposits of their own and a pipeline that will be servicing Russia’s Siberian oil fields. If he could take Kazakstan and make it part of China or at least subject to Chinese rule, like Tibet, he would be rich beyond his dreams and more influential within his own government.”
“But don’t the Kazakstanis still have nukes?” she persisted.
“No. They were among the first of the former Soviet bloc countries to get rid of their nukes,” the other agent jumped in. “Half the population is of Chinese descent, the other half Russian. It’s been a crossroads between the two nations for centuries, and the site of prior conflict. If general Chin was able to assert control over the region while granting some autonomy, he could probably pull this off. The Kazakstani people are land locked and realize that it would be fruitless to resist. They are depending on trade with their immediate neighbors to prosper and would offer only moderate resistance, especially if the economy was allowed to continue on its upward track.”
Kitten was beginning to understand the implications of her work. “Wouldn’t the Russians have a problem with this?” she asked.
It was Johanne’s turn to answer. “You’d better believe it. But once territory is gained, the price for retaking it is often costly. In this case, it could lead to nuclear conflict. This madman’s greed could plunge us into an all-out nuclear war! We’ve got to find a way to stop him, and fast!”
“So, the reason the Russian ex-patriots were being killed was so the outdated Russian systems could be rendered useless and make the General’s job easier,” piped in another at the table.
Turning to Kitten Johanne asked, “Kit, do you remember anything about the flight that would indicate where this general is, anything at all that would help us pinpoint his location?”
Up until now, Kit thought she had accomplished her mission and done an exemplary job, but his question took the wind out of her sails. Her shoulders dropped as she responded.
“No, sir. It was night and I couldn’t see anything. We were in the mountains just short of two hours from Macau. That’s all I know.”
Johanne turned to one of his deputies.
“Break out the maps and plot the maximum distance a sea plane of any type could get within two hours of Macau, mountainous areas only. Then get on the horn and get satellite photos of the areas involved. I don’t care how old they are. Maybe we can get lucky and Kit here can recognize any of the features. In the meantime, I’ve got a call to make to the states. We’ll meet back here in two hours.”
The meeting adjourned and Johanne left for his office. Kit and the others hung back in the conference room, engrossed on the matter at hand.
Back in his office, Johanne put his call into Holden.
“Frank? It’s Johanne.”
“It’s getting late there isn’t it my friend?” Holden replied.
“Yes, Frank. It’s late and getting later. I’m afraid we’re on a twenty-four-hour clock now. We have information that would implicate the general in planning an attack on Kazakstan.”
“Kazakstan?” Holden asked. Then he whistled. “That would make sense, Johanne. That would make perfect sense. Give me all the details. We’ll need to get this over to the President’s National Security team A.S.A P.. If the general does this, the Russians won’t like it at all and we could be looking at an all-out nuclear conflict, especially given the current political in
stability in Russia.”
“That’s our assessment on this end, too, Frank.”
Johanne proceeded to update Holden on the events of their meeting and the details of Kitten’s investigation. Frank thanked Johanne and hung up.
Holden immediately made a call to the director’s office and briefed him on what he had just been witness to. He then received his instructions and left to go to the White House. A crisis team was being formed and it would be his responsibility to brief them on the events up to now. They had very little time to decide a course of action and implement it. Time was running out. The millenium was around the corner and with it, the very real possibility of a major conflict breaking out.
* * *
It was the next morning in Paris and the sunlight was leaking through the blinds on the safehouse windows. Garrett awoke and sat up in bed. Kitten had not come home the night before.
“Must have kept her all night,” he thought to himself. He got up and started the coffee. Garrett had awoken during the night, after only a few hours of sleep. He had stayed awake for quite some time, thinking. He thought long and hard about what he would wish for if he could have his way. He had fretted about it for hours, playing one scenario through his mind, then another. Finally, he had made up his mind. He also decided he would sleep on it and see how he felt this morning. Now as he sipped his cup of coffee, he knew that he would abide by the decision that he had made during the night.
He spent the next hour cleaning up, taking time to make himself the most presentable. When he was done, he dressed and, grabbing the map and chart, left the safehouse for the street below. There was a chill in the air on this clear autumn morning. He pulled his collar up and headed for the metro and Interpol headquarters. Garrett wanted to be with Kit, even if it meant not getting married and having a family. He knew that to do so, he would have to once again involve himself in his old profession and if he was going to do that, he needed to turn himself in, come clean, and get the mess back in Atlanta cleaned up.
The subway slowed as it approached his stop. The moment of truth had come. He could either stay on the train and leave Paris and Kit or get off and press forward. A moment later, Garrett was experiencing butterflies in his stomach as he climbed the stairs of the subway exit and onto the street above. He purposefully took a station a little further out than necessary so he could have more time to walk and psyche himself up. A short walk later, he turned up the side street adjacent to the task force headquarters and started walking from the rear towards the front of the building.
As he looked ahead, he noticed a homeless man going through some refuse cans, put out for collection. Garrett squinted and then closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he knew he wasn’t mistaken. The homeless man had put something into the refuse cans, buried it to be more accurate, not taken something out. Garrett kept walking, his collar up, and watching the man in front of him. His sixth sense had put him on alert and he picked his pace up a little as the man turned away from him and started walking across the street. The man got to the other side of the street and turned left just as Garrett reached the cans. He squatted and searched the area where the man had left the package, finding a paper wrapped bundle under some loose paper.
Garrett looked up and saw the man get into a panel van parked about two blocks down the street, near a building slated for demolition. Quickly, he tore at the paper, and recoiled in horror. Garrett was looking at a bomb! From the lack of an obvious timing device, it was probably detonated remotely. He looked around and assessed the area quickly. There weren’t many people on the street at this early morning hour. Without another thought, he closed the paper back around the package and tucked it under his jacket.
He crossed the street, following the same path as the bomber, hoping the thing wouldn’t go off under his arm. Kit was in that building and she wouldn’t go out that way, not if he could help it. He got within twenty yards of the van and prayed to himself that the man inside would not see him. Garrett could see the man in the side mirror, pulling something out of a bag. It was a remote control!
“Shit,” he muttered to himself. The man was looking down at the instrument, presumably activating it for immediate use. Garrett didn’t have time to make it to the abandoned building. He sprinted the last few feet to the rear of the van and placed the package underneath, just as the driver turned to his left to look out the window. Garrett spun around and raced back down the street the way he had just come.
The man in the van looked out his window so he could catch a view of his handiwork, his finger caressing the trigger button on the remote. Just as he pressed the button, he noticed a man running away down the street behind him. An instant later there was a tremendous explosion as the van and about half a city block were disintegrated. ‘The man with no name’, was no more.
The shock wave from the blast launched Garrett like a catapult. He landed on the concrete sidewalk, causing all of the air to escape from his lungs. His body rolled down the sidewalk, as debris from the buildings started to shower down all around him. Suddenly, the facade of the building next to Garrett collapsed. There was a tremendous crash that echoed through the streets, and then, silence. Dust started to settle and small pieces of rubble rolled down piles until finding a resting place. But for Garrett, there was only the silence and darkness of unconsciousness.
* * *
Kit had been up all night with the others, trying to identify the area in which she had been held. It had taken several hours to have the maps and photos e-mailed and printed. Only then had the group had broken down into two-man teams, each taking a portion of the area involved and ruling out those that were obviously not correct. Nerves were wound tight and many were fidgety from many cups of espresso and French coffee.
Kit moved from group to group ruling out one after another of the photographs. She had a group of about fifty areas that were possibilities.
“This is impossible,” she muttered to herself as she shuffled through another stack. It was getting light out, and she wondered just how much longer she could go without getting any rest. Kit thought of Garrett lying in bed all this time and was suddenly angry with him.
“This could be something,” she heard one of the others say for about the two hundredth time. She walked over to the desk, espresso in hand. Suddenly, the building shook and the windows in the front were blown into the unoccupied offices. The lights flickered on and off. Kit, like everyone in the room, froze for an instant while her subconscious processed what had just occurred. She, like everyone else knew, that the building down the street was to be demolished. But this wasn’t the day!
Almost in unison, the agents all ran to the front of the building. Kit looked out and was mortified by what she saw. Not only was half of the condemned building demolished, but many of the buildings on either side had been substantially damaged.
“This isn’t right,” she shouted. “Call the fire department, there may be people hurt down there!”
Someone pulled out their cell phone and dialed, the rest all made a beeline for the door and the stairs. The agents flooded out onto the street, some with their weapons drawn, others running down the street to look for survivors. Kit was one of those with her weapon drawn. Her instincts from so many years in the field were to survive. Johanne came running up last. He had been napping in one of the rear offices when the explosion had taken place.
“What happened?” he asked.
Kit answered, “I’m not sure, but I think we were supposed to be bombed.”
Johanne looked around, “Yeah, your probably right. Damn!”
“These people mean business Johanne.”
She looked at him. The concerned look on his face went beyond what he was seeing.
“Kit,” he started, “if you are right and this is the general’s handiwork, how did they know we were here?”
Kit thought as he continued.
“I
mean, this location is known to only a few. How did they find it? Or more importantly, why would they do this unless they knew about our investigation?”
“I, I don’t know Johanne.”
He turned to Kit and said under his breath.
“We may have a leak!”
“Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“What Kit, what is it?”
“Sir, it could have been me. I mean that after returning from Hong Kong, I came straight here. If they had me followed somehow, I could have led them right to us. Oh my God!”
“Kit! Kit, don’t blame yourself. None of us was hurt and we don’t know if anyone else was or not. These people are pros. If they followed you from Hong Kong, it’s more than likely that they would have found us eventually anyway. I just pray no one was on the streets this early.”
Kit could hear the approaching sirens as rescue workers arrived on the scene. Everyone pitched in trying to find survivors. After several hours without any luck, Johanne called his team together.
“People, I know that this may sound harsh, but there are enough rescue workers here now. We’ve got a job to do, a very important job with greater repercussions than this,” he said, motioning towards the rubble. “If we don’t stop this madman, multiply this by the thousands. That’s what we’re dealing with.”
The others nodded in agreement and started back towards their offices. The events of the morning had really brought the matter home to them all. When they got upstairs, they started attacking their duties with renewed vigor. The general had to be stopped.
CHAPTER
TWENTY SIX
Frank Holden took his seat at the table as the meeting of the national security advisors came to order. He had been to the White House in the past, but never regarding matters with greater implications. He was here to brief them on the progress of Johanne’s team in Paris and on matters regarding the recent laser testing. Since it was up to the FBI to handle matters of domestic counter intelligence, his director was also present.
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