Noah Wolf Box Set 4

by David Archer

  He had looked around carefully, but saw no sign of surveillance. Perhaps this truly was a miraculous opportunity, he thought. He walked quickly up the street and entered the building, then walked directly into Saeed’s office. Both men looked up, and appeared to be surprised.

  “Mr. Ibrahim,” Tushar said. “My name is Tushar Balakrishnan, and you and I need to have a conversation.”

  Ibrahim looked at Saeed for a moment, but the man only shrugged. He turned back to Tushar. “Yes? What about?”

  “Did you not recognize my name?” Tushar asked. “I am he who will soon bring Islam to its proper place in the world. I would’ve thought you would’ve heard of me.”

  “I have heard your name,” Ibrahim said. “There are many stories about you, but I was not certain if any of them were true.”

  Tushar grinned and sat in the chair beside Ibrahim. “I can assure you that they are,” he said. “And you, my new friend, have been sent by Allah to help me achieve that goal. This honor being bestowed upon you has created an opportunity I never expected to have within my grasp, but we need not discuss the details at this time. All I wish to know is whether you are willing to help me achieve this mission that Allah has given me.”

  “Allahu Akbar,” Ibrahim said. “Of course, whatever I can do.”

  The grin became a smile. “How wonderful,” Tushar said. “I would like to meet with you again in a few days, but my schedule requires me to be in Tel Aviv by tomorrow evening. I should be back within four days, and would like to sit down for a private conversation upon my return. Is that acceptable to you?”

  Ibrahim returned the smile. “Certainly, certainly,” he said. “It is an honor greater than this to serve the will of Allah.”

  Tushar reached over and shook hands with Ibrahim, then got up and left without another word. He needed to think about whether Ibrahim was slightly too willing to help, but he had learned not to have such thoughts too soon. It was better to let the memory of this meeting settle, then analyze it in depth.

  Besides, Israel was one of the most important parts of his plan, and he thought it might even help with his new American problem. He needed to get back to the warehouse and make a few arrangements, and then it would be time for him to take his leave of Martin Embry.

  By the time he met with Ibrahim again, he would know for sure whether this was a legitimate opportunity, or a trap set by his opponents. Either way, he knew that Allah had allowed this to fall into his hands, and would guide him on how to properly use it.

  He picked up his cell phone from the console and dialed a number. “Mustapha? This is Tushar. I’m going to need someone to take a trip into Israel. How soon can you meet with me?”

  SIXTEEN

  Sam and Denny had gotten back to their hotel room at just after six, and Sam had called Indie while Denny went to the shower.

  “About time you called,” she said as she answered, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “I take it you’ve been busy over there?”

  “Plenty busy,” Sam said, “just not nearly productive enough. We spent most of the day searching through old warehouse buildings, but then they had people come up with a new plan. I’m hoping it will pan out, but it scares the hell out of me.”

  “Well, then maybe this will help,” Indie said. “Mom called me just a little bit ago to tell me Beauregard has a message for you. He says to tell you that you are the key to catching this person, but that your work in England is already done. You will be going somewhere else, but he doesn’t know where just yet. All he knows is that you are the beater, whatever that means. Your job is to try to chase the quarry directly to the hunters waiting for him.”

  “Oh, geez,” Sam said. “I wish your mother would stop hiding behind Beauregard and just speak for herself. I like that she gets glimpses of the future, but these cryptic little messages drive me crazy.”

  “I know, I know,” Indie said. “Still, he’s saying you’ve got a chance, and we both know he’s always right. What does he mean about being a beater? Any idea?”

  “I’m not sure,” Sam said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that phrase before, but it sounds like something you would do if you were trying to drive animals toward hunters. That make any sense?”

  “You’re asking me? Mom said she tried to get Beauregard to explain, but he didn’t have anything more to say. Anyway, enough about him. Your daughter wants to talk to you.”

  Sam smiled and he could hear Kenzie clamoring for the phone. Indie handed it to her, and the excited little girl began talking at a rapid pace.

  “Daddy, guess what? I made a new friend. Some people moved into the empty house down the street, and they have a little girl just my age. Her name is Cindy, and she’s going to be going to school with me this year. Isn’t that great?”

  “It sure is,” Sam said with a smile. “Have you been playing with her today?”

  “Yeah, and Samson really likes her. She came down a while ago and he just crawled right up in her lap. She had to go home for lunch, but she’ll be back in a little while and Mommy says we can get in the pool for a while. Here’s Mommy again.”

  Kenzie was gone, and Indie came back on the line. “So, as you can tell,” she said, “I’ve had my hands full today. Cindy is really a very nice little girl, but having the two of them with all of their energy is enough to wear me out. Luckily, Bo has been a little angel all morning, so it hasn’t been hard to keep track of them. We’re all going to go out to the pool when she comes back.”

  “Well, just be careful. I know how much Bo likes the water, so he’ll probably have a blast.”

  They talked for a few more moments, but then an incoming call made Sam say goodbye quickly. He flashed over and answered, and heard Albert Lingenfelter’s voice.

  “Our fish took the bait,” Albert said. “He just surprised Ibrahim with a visit, and has started the process of trying to recruit him. However, he also said he’s leaving for Tel Aviv, and will be speaking with Ibrahim again in a few days.”

  “Tel Aviv? He’s going to Israel?” Sam asked.

  “It appears that way,” Albert said. “Considering the gravity of the situation, I’m afraid we have to act on this information immediately. Mr. Wolf has suggested that we might ask you and Mr. Cortlandt to go and try to locate him there.”

  Beauregard’s message suddenly came back to Sam’s mind. “Yes, we can do that,” he said. “How soon would you like us to leave?”

  “If possible, within the hour. Arrangements are being made for you to travel on a diplomatic flight that will be leaving shortly. Will that be acceptable?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “Denny will be out of the shower in a moment and I’ll tell him to start packing. Is Noah in the hotel?”

  “Why, yes, I believe so. Do you wish to speak to him before you leave?”

  “Yes, but I can give him a call. Just let me know when we need to be leaving, and what to do with the car you gave us.”

  “We are actually going to send the car to pick you up and take you to the airport,” Albert said. “Someone will come along to take charge of the temporary car you are using.”

  “Okay, that’ll help. Let me give Noah a call, and we’ll be ready to go within the hour.”

  “All right, then,” Albert said. “I’m going to text you a phone number. It’s one of our people who is stationed in Tel Aviv. Give him a call as soon as you arrive; he can arrange any weapons and such that you might need, and will see that you have a driver.”

  Sam hung up and immediately dialed Noah’s number.

  “Noah Wolf,” the assassin said as he answered. “What can I do for you, Sam?”

  “Well, it might be more about what I can do for you. Lingenfelter just called to tell me that Denny and I are going to Israel, but I had another conversation just before that might interest you. This is going to sound crazy, I know, but my mother-in-law has this habit of being able to see bits and pieces of the future. I won’t go into detail, but I just got the message that she sees
me serving as what she called a ‘beater’ to drive the quarry directly to you. Does that make any sense to you?”

  “Surprisingly, it does. It’s the way hunting is often done here in England. The hunters stand in one spot, and beaters drive the game toward them. It’s kind of ironic that this was just explained to me a few days ago, and now it comes up in a prediction from your precognitive mother-in-law.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought it meant. All right, we’re getting ready to leave for Israel. We’ll do what we can, so best of luck to you on your end.”

  “And to you, Sam. It sounds like I made the right call in bringing you in on this.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Sam said grudgingly. “Just do me a favor? Try not to make a habit of it?”

  “You have my word on that,” Noah said.

  The line went dead as Denny stepped out of the bathroom.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Pack your bags,” Sam said. “You and I headed for Israel. Let me hit the shower, then I’ll fill you in.”

  “Israel?”

  * * * * *

  The driver arrived on schedule, and Sam and Denny were taken directly to Heathrow airport, where a diplomatic flight had been held back from its normal schedule. They were escorted onto the plane and seated themselves in the small passenger compartment. The seats were small and tight, but they managed to make themselves as comfortable as they could in the few minutes before the engines roared and the plane began to taxi toward the runway.

  The flight lasted a little over six hours and then landed at Ben Gurion Airport, less than 20 miles from Tel Aviv. It was just past four in the morning when they arrived, but the airport was still incredibly busy. Because they were on a diplomatic flight with temporary diplomatic ID from the U.K., they were able to bypass customs and were escorted directly to where a British Embassy driver was waiting to take them to their hotel, the Royal Beach Hotel.

  Even though they only had carry-on luggage, a bellman was assigned to show them to their room. They rode up the elevator with the bellman talking nonstop, offering to get them tour guides, special accommodations, or girls. They thanked him but refused any special services, and Denny gave the man a twenty dollar bill as soon as he opened the door of their room for them.

  "I was ready to get rid of him," Sam said. He looked around the room and whistled. "Wow, this is a very nice place," he said. "I’ve stayed in some pretty fancy hotels, but I don’t think any of them ever compared to this."

  "I’ve actually been here a couple of times,” Denny said. “It's always a nice place to stay." He watched as Sam walked through the room, checking all of the amenities. It was a suite, with a sitting room and a separate bedroom. There was a king-sized bed in the bedroom, but the sofa in the sitting room folded out to one that was just as big and almost as luxurious. "You can take the bed, Sam. I'll sleep just fine out here."

  "Okay, but there are some things we need to do first,” Sam said. “Albert said to call his men as soon as we arrived, so I’m going to do that first. After that, I think we need to go look for some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  He took out his phone and dialed the number that Albert had sent to him. It was answered a moment later, and Sam was surprised when he heard a woman's voice on the other end of the line. "Hello,” he said. “My name is Sam Prichard. I was told to call this number when I got here."

  "Yes, I've been expecting your call. I have a package for you, and if you tell me where you're staying, I'd be happy to bring it to you."

  "Oh, well—okay, then,” Sam said. “We're at the Royal Beach Hotel, room 305. I think we're going to go find some breakfast. Are you planning on coming very soon?"

  The woman laughed. "Why, yes, I can be there in about fifteen minutes. Is that an invitation to join you for breakfast?”

  "Yeah, sure. Maybe while we’re eating, we can talk about the reason we came. I think Albert is hoping you might be able to help us accomplish our goals in Tel Aviv.”

  "Oh, I'm quite sure I can. And as I said, I have a package for you, anyway. All right, then, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Perhaps we can meet in the lobby? Near the concierge? I'll be easy to spot, because I'll be wearing a dress. Most other women who will be out and about this time of morning will probably be dressed in shorts. The dress is black, and I have blonde hair. You shouldn’t have any trouble recognizing me."

  “Okay, no problem. Can I get your name?”

  “Oh, sure,” the girl said. “My name is Lizzie, short for Elizabeth. See you soon.”

  Sam hung up the phone and turned to Denny. "Well, Albert’s man turned out to be a woman," he said. "She’s going to be joining us for breakfast, so let’s get on downstairs. She said she's bringing a package for us, probably weapons, and will bring us up-to-date on what's going on. We're supposed to meet her down by the concierge in about fifteen minutes."

  Denny grinned. “Good thing we showered before we left,” he said. “Give me a minute, though. I slept on the plane, so let me put on a fresh shirt, anyway.”

  Each of them did so, and Sam took an extra minute to run a razor over his face. All of that took up ten minutes, so they left the room and took the elevator to the lobby. The concierge desk was surrounded by chairs and couches, so they went over and took seats. They'd been there for only a few minutes when a young woman entered, a blonde-haired girl in a black, businesslike dress, carrying a simple briefcase. She glanced at the two of them and broke into a grin while Denny suddenly groaned.

  "Lizzie Bonham," he said. “Remind me to kill Albert the next time I see him, will you?”

  Sam looked at him quizzically. “Why? You know her?”

  The girl walked directly toward them, so Sam and Denny stood. She smiled broadly and opened her arms for a hug from Denny. "Why, Denny Cortlandt," she said. "Albert didn’t bother to mention that you were coming. If I'd known, I might’ve told him to sod off."

  Sam looked her over. She was a very pretty young woman, and Sam estimated that she might be in her mid-twenties. Denny looked up at him with a weak smile. "Lizzie and I have a bit of history, I’m afraid. She was once a trainee of mine. Don’t be fooled by her innocent appearance, she is one of the best agents I ever had the pleasure of training."

  Lizzie chuckled at him, then held out a hand to Sam. “He’s terribly modest, isn’t he?” she asked. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prichard. Albert took the liberty of telling me quite a bit about you, and my curiosity got the better of me. I did a little research and found your blog. Some of your adventures sound like they might’ve come straight out of the SIS mission books.”

  “My wife writes all that,” Sam said, “so don’t believe everything you read, there.” He looked down at the case she was carrying. "Should we take that up to the room, or take it into the restaurant with us? I don't know about either of you, but I'm ready to eat."

  "We can take it along. I have some information inside it that you might find interesting, some tidbits I was able to dig up on our friend Balakrishnan. And yes, I'm bloody starving. I’ve been up most of the night just getting ready for your arrival, but haven’t had a chance to do anything about eating since dinner.”

  Denny pointed across the lobby to the entrance of the restaurant. “Come on, then,” he said. “I was telling Sam, I’ve stayed in this hotel before, and the restaurant serves a fantastic breakfast. I’ve actually been living in the States for the last couple of years, Lizzie, so I’ve built fondness for the American-style breakfast. This place has some of the best steak and eggs you can get anywhere outside of Denver.”

  They entered the restaurant and Denny asked to be seated in a corner, off by themselves. The waiter took their orders and then left them alone, and Denny asked Lizzie whether she had heard anything about Tushar arriving.

  “Unfortunately, he hasn’t turned up on our radar, or that of the Mossad,” she said, "and they are very good at what they do. We have a fairly decent working relationship with them, so they�
��ve agreed to help keep an eye out for him. If he turns up at all, I’ll be notified immediately.” She grimaced. “However, I have been ordered not to let them know exactly what he’s been up to. Apparently, the Foreign Secretary is worried that the Israelis will place at least some of the blame on London if Balakrishnan manages to use his deadly poisons here.”

  She opened the case and withdrew two files, which she handed over, one to each of them. "The first photo you see there is of Balakrishnan, taken almost four months ago. Being bloody Yanks, you might not remember, but that was right around the time when the movie theater was firebombed. Twenty-three people died in that incident, and more than sixty more were badly burned. We had reasonably good intelligence saying that Balakrishnan was the orchestrator of that attack, but he slipped out of the country before we could ever locate him.”

  “He’s a bloody nasty piece of work,” Denny said. “We’re here because MI6 is hoping we can flush him out. If he shows himself, they have some special assistance that’s going to take care of the problem permanently.”

  “So I’ve heard. More Yanks, of course, but at least we won’t get the blame if it ever gets out the bugger was killed quietly. Take a look at the next photo. That’s the aftermath of that firebombing. Now, normally I wouldn’t mention this, but this happened shortly after I was assigned here to the Embassy. I was actually supposed to go to the theater that night, to see the film, but I was called on to stay late. My friend Haley wasn’t so lucky. She was one of those that died.”

  Denny flipped through the photos as Sam did likewise. Both of them grimaced as they looked at the dead and wounded, and then they closed the files. Denny cursed softly as he handed his file back to Lizzie.

  “Yeah,” Sam said, and Denny muttered the same word again.

  “We have to stop this guy, Sam. I don’t know how we’re going to do it yet, but we have to bring him to an end.”