Noah Wolf Box Set 4

by David Archer

  “Yes, Albert,” came the voice of the director. “We’ve managed to ground all flights as you suggested, but I’m afraid we were apparently a bit too late for some of them. As soon as the flights are identified, we shall be forced to take action to prevent them from landing.”

  The pain in his voice was clear and evident. What they were talking about was the probability of having to shoot down five commercial airliners full of civilian passengers, rather than let them begin their descent over populated areas.

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” Albert said. “If we had only found the man yesterday…”

  “Do not be sorry, Albert,” Lambril said. “We have managed to secure forty-nine of these packages of death. From what your lab people have been telling me, you may have saved the lives of more than a billion people by your actions. Unfortunately, the packages that are currently aboard those aircraft will have already burst, and will soon be in a position to spread death to millions of others. We must take whatever action is necessary to prevent that. The lives of the few hundred aboard each of those craft will be a small but tragic price to pay to save so many.”

  “Yes, sir,” Albert said. “I understand, sir, but those are still innocent lives that are being lost. If we’d been more efficient, perhaps we could have prevented even those losses.”

  “You’ve done what could be done,” Lambril said. “I’m currently on another line with the Prime Minister, and he is in touch with the heads of state of the other nations to be affected. As soon as we know where these aircraft are, we all shall do what has to be done.”

  In a corner, Angeline answered a call on her cell phone. She hastily scribbled notes on the paper, then hung up the phone and came to the table.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “I have the list of flights that are currently carrying the packets. Two of them are headed toward the United States, another pair is on its way to Canada, and the last is en route to Australia. Four of them are currently over the Atlantic, but the one bound for Australia is somewhere over Saudi Arabia.”

  “Send me the flight numbers,” Lambril said. “All five of them will have to be shot down, but it’s good that they are over water.”

  Noah, despite his lack of emotion, was sitting at the table looking drained. Sarah was beside him, with one hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. She had tears on her cheeks, and Noah turned for a second to look at her, then froze.

  Tears, he thought. Salt water. Oceans.

  “Mr. Lambril,” he said. “There may be a way to save those people.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Lambril said. “Who is speaking?”

  “My name is Noah Wolf, and I’m on loan from the United States. I was present when Embry was arrested, and I had the opportunity to ask him about how to destroy the poison. He said that it can be completely neutralized by immersing it in salt water. Mr. Lambril, order those planes to put down on the ocean. The ones headed for North America can set down in the Atlantic, and the one on the way to Australia should be over the Arabian Sea before long. All of them are equipped with life rafts and flotation devices, so the people can be saved, but the hold will be flooded with sea water. That means that any of the powder that was released will be landing on salt water, and any remaining inside the aircraft will be neutralized. If the passengers are instructed to keep a cloth wet with salt water over their faces, they should be safe.”

  Lambril did not hesitate. “Mr. Wolf, if you’re correct, you may have just saved many lives. I’m going to relay this to the Prime Minister right now.”

  Albert was staring at Noah, but the stunned silence was broken suddenly when Charles, sitting across the table, suddenly began clapping his hands. Liam and Angeline joined in, and a moment later everyone in the room, except for Noah, was applauding.

  Sarah was hugging his arm, looking at him with her face radiant even through the tears. “Noah, that was brilliant! Oh my God, Noah, that was absolutely awesome!”

  Noah shrugged. “It was just logical. It’s salt water that can neutralize this stuff, so putting it into the ocean should do the job.” He reached out and traced the track of her tears with his finger. “It was your tears that made me think of it.”

  They waited for several minutes, and then Lambril’s voice came back on the speakerphone. “Mr. Wolf?”

  “Yes, sir?” Noah replied.

  “The Air Ministry has agreed that your suggestion is the only viable option. Contact is being made with the affected aircraft as we speak, and I have been asked to express our country’s gratitude. I’m certain this is not going to be a pleasant afternoon, and it is likely that there will still be some loss of life, but we are doing everything possible to minimize it.”

  “Yes, sir. Unfortunately, there is still the possibility that some of the powdered proteins in the air may reach people. There should probably be someone looking at ships along the aircraft flight paths, and wind patterns that might carry any of it back to land.”

  “Those are being done already. If these aircraft had been able to reach their destinations, however…”

  “The U.K. could have taken the blame,” Catherine said.

  “Exactly,” Lambril said.

  * * * * *

  That afternoon, Sam and Denny prepared for their own operation, completely unaware of the drama that was still unfolding. The news had not been alerted to the situation with the flights of doom, and the two men were getting ready for their confrontation with Tushar Balakrishnan even as Noah was making his desperate suggestion to save the passengers.

  Lizzie had gone to arrange backup for them the night before, but she had returned to their hotel in time to join them for lunch. Now, it was after one o’clock, and Sam wanted to get into position early. Tushar was due to arrive at the restaurant at three, so he wanted himself and Denny to be securely in place.

  They piled into Lizzie’s car at one thirty and she drove them to the restaurant. They knew that it would be a long wait, but they felt better about being there early, and each of them had spent long hours waiting before. It wasn't anything new to them, and they knew they could find a way to get comfortable.

  Denny slipped into a clothing shop next to the restaurant while Sam took a position in a shop devoted to shoes on the other side. Each of them had an earpiece in their ears that Lizzie had provided, so that when she spotted Tushar coming their way, she could let them know. That way, they could both get to their feet and be ready to move once their target was inside and unaware.

  That call came at three on the dot, and the two of them readied themselves. Lizzie confirmed that someone matching Tushar’s description was in the car when it pulled up in front of the restaurant, and that he did get out and enter the place.

  “It looks like he’s only got one man with him,” she said. “I don’t see anyone else keeping watch, so I think this is our shot. Are you boys ready to play?”

  “Ready,” Sam said.

  Denny answered with, “I’m all set, luv!”

  “Okay, then, on my mark—go!”

  Sam came around the north side of the entrance just as Denny came around from the south, and both of them saw the three men sitting at the table in the back. Tushar looked up at them, and his face registered shock at the sight of Denny and Sam, and then Sam raised his gun and shouted for them to freeze.

  There were several other people in the place, and they all began screaming and trying to run, and Sam was shoved aside by a man who was holding a child. He caught his balance and aimed again, but then another man ran into him and he fell to one side. He hit the floor, and for a split second he was looking straight into the barrel of a gun, but then a shot rang out and the gun was gone. Sam struggled to his feet, but there was no sign of Tushar.

  Someone ran into him again and he fell onto a table, but by the time he could get up and see what was going on, the place where Tushar had been was empty. One of the men who had been sitting with him was on the floor, covering his head with his hands, but Tushar was gone.

  Sam g
rabbed the guy who had been with Tushar. “Where did he go?” he demanded. “The man you came in with, where did he go?”

  The fellow looked terrified. “I don’t know,” he said in what sounded like a German accent. “You came running at us and he pushed me onto the floor, and when I looked up he was gone!”

  “Then where can I find him? Come on, where will he go now?”

  “Sir, I don’t know,” the guy said, still trying to cower away from Sam. “I don’t know him well, I just met him last night. He said this was his first time coming for the events, and he wanted me to give him advice on how to tell his family that he is gay.”

  Sam stared at the man for a moment. “You’re from Germany?”

  “Nein, Austria. I have come for Pride Week,” he said. “That man said this was his first time, and he wanted me to show him around the city.”

  Sam let go of the man, and he suddenly clambered to his feet and ran out the door. Sam watched him go, then spun around looking for Denny and saw him on the floor, his shirt bloody. He gasped and started toward him, but Denny moved and Sam realized that the blood probably wasn’t serious.

  “Where is he?” Sam shouted, but the screaming of the few people still trying to get out was too loud. Denny managed to get to his feet, and the two of them hurried out onto the street. “Where the hell did he go?”

  “I don’t know,” Denny said. “I’d’a sworn he was right in front of me, but something hit me in the back and I went down. Cut my bloody cheek on a table leg, but not bad. You all right?”

  “Hell, no,” Sam said. He put a hand over his ear. “Lizzie? He got away, did you see him come out?”

  “Got away? He never came out, Sam, I swear. Look back inside, he must be hiding there somewhere! Why didn’t you shoot him when you had the chance?”

  “Because I’m a cop, not a damned assassin,” Sam shot back. He spun to go back inside, and made it only a few steps before he stepped on something and looked down. He stared for a moment, then bent over and picked up the item. He looked at it for another second, then turned back to Denny.

  He was holding a mask that looked like Tushar’s face.

  “What on… A mask?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “The man we were watching wasn’t the real Tushar, it was a decoy. He saw us coming, Denny, somehow. He knew we were here, and this whole thing was just a wild goose chase to keep us off the real Tushar.” He threw the mask down in disgust. “We got played, Denny, that’s all.”

  Sirens were sounding in the distance, and Lizzie’s voice came through their headsets. “We need to move, gents,” she said. “The local police are on the way. I’m coming toward you, get in quickly!”

  She pulled up in front of them a second later, and both of them got into the car. Lizzie hit the gas pedal and whipped the car around the next corner, then cut into an alley and backed up to a loading dock. Three police cars flew past at the end of the alley, completely unaware of their presence, and Lizzie breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Okay, we should be clear,” she said. “Now, what happened?”

  “It wasn’t him,” Sam said. “The guy we thought was Tushar was wearing a mask to make us think so, but he was just a decoy. The real Tushar is out there, somewhere, doing whatever it is he was going to do.”

  Sam’s phone vibrated at that moment, and he looked to see that it was Noah calling. He bit back a curse as he answered, putting the phone on speaker so the others could hear.

  “No joy on this end,” he said without bothering with a hello. “We were led on a wild goose chase. The guy we thought was Tushar was a decoy in one of his special masks.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Noah said, “but I was actually calling to tell you that we got Embry.” He explained to Sam what they had learned and about the five flights that were about to be forced to set down on the ocean. “Unfortunately, the powdered protein would have been leaking out of the cargo holds already, so that there is some of it in the air already. I’m afraid it’s still likely that some people are going to die because of it, but MI6 believes the losses will be fewer than a thousand altogether.”

  Sam shook his head. “But there are still six packages of that stuff unaccounted for?” he asked. “And it’s a safe bet that Tushar has them with him.”

  “I would agree. Any further word on his whereabouts?”

  “No, we just lost the last two days chasing this decoy. We have no clue where the real Tushar could be, but I’m hoping that our little fiasco might make him duck for cover. The worry here is that he’s going to strike at the big gay pride parade tomorrow, but we don’t have any idea how he might try to pull it off.”

  “The poisonous protein has been dehydrated into a powder,” Noah said, “so all he really needs to do is find a way to disperse it into the air. This stuff is a hundred times more deadly than ricin, even a single particle of it reaching the lungs or the eyes is probably enough to be fatal. Once it’s actually in the air, there’s probably nothing you can do.”

  “Well, that’s it, then,” Lizzie said. “We’ve no choice, gentlemen, we have to let the Mossad know what we’re up against. We can’t stand by and leave them in the dark when so many people could die.”

  “I agree with Lizzie, Noah,” Sam said. “Tell Albert we have no choice.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Sam, Denny and Lizzie were escorted into the Mossad Headquarters by three officers and placed in a room. There was a table in the room, a small conference style table with six chairs. The three of them sat down to wait for the interrogation they knew was about to begin.

  The door opened a moment later and a tall man stepped inside. He was carrying a file folder and took a seat on the opposite side of the table from where they were sitting.

  “My name is Moshe ben David,” he said. “I am the deputy director for intelligence investigations.” He looked at Lizzie. “Hello again, Ms. Bonham.”

  Lizzie smiled. “Hi, Mo,” she said. “Sorry to be meeting on these kind of terms today.”

  “Yes, I suspect you are. Lizzie, I’m told you have something of importance you need to share with me? Would this have anything to do with your request for assistance in locating Tushar Balakrishnan, or his development of—what is it your people have been calling it? Oh yes, the ‘Touch of Death,’ isn’t that correct?”

  Lizzie shrugged, a shameful grin on her face. “I was ordered not to tell you too much,” she said. “On the other hand, my friends and I took it upon ourselves to disobey those orders after learning some new information.”

  Moshe nodded. “Yes, we’ve been following along. Are you aware that five Airbus 380 aircraft have ditched into the oceans in the last couple of hours? We intercepted radio transmissions ordering them to do so, so we are fully aware of just how deadly the situation is.”

  “May I ask,” Sam spoke up, “were the planes able to do it safely?”

  “All but one of them,” Moshe said. “I’m afraid one of the planes dipped a wing into the water and crashed rather hard. Rescue operations are underway, but the word is that at least a couple of dozen people have probably died.” He turned to Lizzie again. “I’m hoping you can give me some idea of what Balakrishnan is planning to do. While we have been able to follow your own investigations and are aware of the danger, we do not know how or where or when he plans to strike.”

  “We think we know,” Lizzie said cautiously. “The big parade tomorrow would be something he would probably consider too good to pass up. Not only will he strike against Israel, but it would also damage Israel in the entire global community. If we are correct, thousands of tourists could die, and that will not look good for Israel.”

  Moshe nodded. “That is certainly true,” he said. “How do you expect this strike to take place?”

  Sam cleared his throat. “At the moment, all we know is that his poisons have been converted into a powder, something that can float in the air. I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems to me that we should be looking at any kind of blower
mechanism. If he can set something up to blow this stuff into the air along the parade route, he could conceivably kill tens of thousands, maybe more.”

  Moshe looked him in the eye. “That would be quite unfortunate. Sadly, we have absolutely no leads on where to find Balakrishnan, or any sort of confirmation that the parade is his intended target. As you are only speculating, there is significant probability that you could be wrong. There are dozens of events taking place over the next few days that will put several thousand people at least into a single location. Any one of them could be his target.”

  “I have to agree,” Sam said. “We were just looking at what we considered the most likely scenario.”

  “No need to defend yourself,” Moshe said. “I was simply speaking in an official capacity. Personally, I believe you’re correct in your assessment. The parade offers the greatest possibility for loss of life, and the most significant direct damage to Israel and its reputation. Unfortunately, we are then faced with the impossibility of securing the entire parade route. Whatever mechanism he might be employing, it has probably been in place for some time.”

  “In that case,” Denny said, “we should probably be looking at this from the perspective of a parade organizer. What type of devices are going to be employed, what floats will be in the parade, what concessions will be available? Are there balloons? Those really big ones?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Moshe said. “However, I doubt it would be difficult to devise ways to disperse a powder into the air. As frustrating as it is, I could think of a dozen means to achieve that end myself.”

  “So could I,” Sam said. “And we’re dealing with a man who is probably much smarter than I am. The question at the moment, I guess, is how can we help?”

  “Frankly,” Moshe said, “I don’t believe you can. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you have tried to do, and I’m grateful for your warning, even if we already knew it was coming. The problem is that you are not Mossad officers, and we tend to do things in our own way.” He opened the file in front of him and selected a photograph. He looked at it for a moment, then turned it around and laid it on the table in front of Sam. “This photograph was taken earlier today. The man you see may be Mr. Balakrishnan, wearing one of his infamous disguises. Is there anything about the man in this photo that leads you to believe that it truly is him?”