by Tom Haase
“Great work,” Jonathan said and concluded the call.
The name looked like the one Bridget told him but not the same. Different enough where a computer search probably wouldn’t connect the two. There had to be thousands of nearly matched names, but the logic of the computer dealt in facts and not cognitive speculation. Humans did that.
Too bad he didn’t have the assets in America to track down this man. But he did have the Donavans. Just as he made the decision to approach Bridget to request a favor, the photo arrived on his phone.
35
Near Rocky Mount, North Carolina
Karim rode in the car with Ashil. He listened to the conversation that transpired between Ashil and Mike. When Ashil rang off, he instructed Karim that he would need to drive to Savannah to deliver the money at nine the next morning. When they reached the camp, Ashil would give Karim the money and address for the delivery.
“This is important. Why are you not going to Savannah?” Karim asked.
“There are some questions I have to ask my superior.”
“Who is that?” Karim asked. He instantly realized he might be pushing too hard.
Ashil rotated toward him showing a clenched jaw and pure anger in his eyes. Before the man could speak, Karim said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”
He saw Ashil relax. “No, you shouldn’t. I think you are the smartest man in the unit, and the only native Iranian in the unit. So, I’ll tell you. The man who provides us the money is a Saudi, from the house of al-Hanabli. The loss of the weapons at Roanoke and the loss of men in Washington have put me in a bad light. I must explain my reasons and actions to him. He is committed to supporting ISIL and the establishment of a worldwide Caliphate. I intend to support his goals with our group.”
Karim could see the man didn’t want to talk any more so he pretended to take a nap as the car climbed the mountain roads to the camp. This was the time he needed. He let his mind work the problem. He had his orders.
* * *
Karim Pahlavi did come from the family he’d described to Matt Higgins in order to gain his trust. Karim’s personal reality proved somewhat different from the yarn he’d spun as a prisoner of the FBI man. He realized that his addition of the fable concerning his made-up grandparents entailed a nice touch. He laughed to himself as he never knew anything about his ancestors before his parents. At the age of ten, his parents were arrested because he turned them in to the authorities for plotting to escape Iran. He didn’t lie about his parents teaching him English and that remained the only thing he believed they gave him that had any value. He never knew how they learned the language. Under the law, he dutifully attended religious school and accepted the precepts and ideology of the Islamic Republic of Iran. His parents were traitors. They got what they deserved.
His training during the next ten years made him a master at deception and manipulation in order to carry out his clandestine activities in the United States. His primary mission was the establishment and running of Iranian-controlled jihadist groups built on American terrorists. He held the rank of major in the Quds Force, the extraterritorial activities division of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards. ISIL comprised of forces of his enemy and the enemy of any Shiite Muslim. The Iraqi’s who controlled ISIL in its drive to conquer the world were the worst kind of Sunni Muslims. They would destroy his country. They needed to be stopped, not by any outsiders, but by the Muslim world itself.
Ashil, the leader of this cell, an Iraqi-born Muslim, had a very limited vision and lacked fundamental leadership skills. As a Shiite, the man supported ISIL and that contradicted Karim’s orders. He could not allow his unit to engage in any operation to support them. The use of terrorism against Americans couldn’t be misunderstood as support for ISIL. His goal focused on ensuring the Americans changed their minds on the interference they conducted against a sovereign nation to develop its own defense systems, including the development of a nuclear capability. The time now arrived to assume command of the operation and start inflicting damage on the citizens of this country. A reign of terror, concentrating on killing mass numbers in train stations, shopping malls, and airports would soon be unleashed under his command.
The weapons, the ones from Mike, were essential to his plan and he knew Ashil couldn’t accomplish the goals in Karim’s mind. The use of bombs on planes was extremely difficult to accomplish with the level of security on the planes these days. The airport terminals and malls, however, were another matter. They were rife for exploitation, especially if three or four could be hit at the same time. Those activities Karim planned to achieve in the near future, ideally, as soon as he obtained the weapons from the shipment.
* * *
Before the car reached the camp, Karim made his decision. When Ashil led him into the small conference room, the man’s phone rang. He listened for only a few seconds before hanging up.
“The man Higgins is in a hospital at Fort Belvoir in Virginia. His FBI watchers will be called off tomorrow night after ten. So he will be unprotected.” Ashil smiled. He then called two of the team, gave them the information, and ordered them to terminate Higgins tomorrow night.
Karim listened and silently approved this action. It would relieve him from having to do it himself. Higgins already knew too much about him and needed to be taken care of. Karim fully appreciated the information he needed to complete the task before him. After all, he’d been trained for this mission.
“Do you have to call the Saudi now?”
“No, I’ll wait till you leave for Savannah. Let me get the money from the safe.”
Karim looked over his shoulder and memorized the combination.
“Just curious. Do you call the Saudi on your cell?”
“Yes, he will see the number and know it is me.” He handed Karim the money and a road map to Savannah with the address of the SCAD coffee shop. “That’s enough questions from you.”
Karim quickly unholstered a silenced PPK and shot Ashil twice in the head. He retrieved the man’s phone.
“I think you’re right. I have no more questions.”
36
Ft. Belvoir, Virginia
Hospital Room
On the morning after Matt suffered his wound, Bridget entered his hospital room. She hated hospitals, mostly because of the antiseptic smell and the fact lots of people died there. The patient appeared sweaty and moaned in pain. He didn’t seem to recognize her when she stood beside the bed. From time to time they had brief conversations during the short periods when he regained consciousness. Right now something bothered her.
Things were not going as planned.
The doctor entered the room and escorted her out into the hallway.
“I’m sorry to inform you Mr. Higgins developed some complications overnight,” the doctor said.
“What happened?” Bridget asked. Bridget’s gut tightened at hearing this.
“In simple terms, strep got into his bloodstream. We’re countering the condition with antibiotics, but he’s running an exceptionally high fever. It will take some time for this condition to clear. I’ve given him a strong sedative to allow the medicine to work. He’ll be here for a few days at least.”
“Will he recover?” She tried to hide the growing fear she felt about Matt’s condition and how much she cared for him.
“Yes, of course, but you’ll need to be patient for two or three days.” He left her with those words.
Everything sucked. Nothing was going according to her wishes. She needed Matt to help her find the icon and get Schultz off her back. With him out of action, Schultz would be wanting his money that she didn’t see any way to get, and to top it all off, their double agent proved to be a complete fraud. She felt like shit. No, worse, she felt like a failure.
Bridget spent the rest of the morning in a state of depression. She again, for the umpteenth time, examined Matt’s face. No sign of pain appeared there. Something from deep inside her told her to reach down and hold his hand.
This act brought back memories of their time together in the army. He’d been her commanding officer when they tracked down a terrorist cell operating in Saudi Arabia. The group actually planned to set off an atomic detonation to destroy the major oil-exporting harbor in the kingdom. At the same time, they’d rigged an old oil well, which had connections underground feeding to all the major oil reserves in the country.
The American team prevented the explosion at the port but weren’t able to stop the detonation underground. Fortunately, the damage did not match what the terrorists contemplated. Bridget saved Matt’s life at that oil rig. She remembered it all as if it happened yesterday.
In the silence of the room, she realized she needed to confront her developing feelings toward Matt, which emerged in spite of her resolve not to allow any romantic emotion to cloud her mind. She, however, couldn’t deny having romantic feelings toward Matt, but now they were to be partners in a business, it wouldn’t be prudent to let those feelings out of the bag. Doing so might just ruin the whole arrangement. She wanted their business partnership to work and saw a great future, assuming Schultz didn’t kill her.
Taking a short break from the hospital to get some supper, she realized she had nowhere to go, no leads, and she had run out of options to get the money to pay Schultz. She might just have to run, to hide, and to disappear for good.
On the second night of Matt’s hospitalization on the military base, the doctors informed her they believed his infection finally under control, but Matt lost all his color and now continually moaned even with the drugs. As she sat in the hospital room, her phone rang. The caller ID showed Jonathan. She almost let it go to voice mail, but at the last second answered it. She decided to be cheerful despite Matt’s serious condition.
“Yes, Jonathan. Do you have anything new?” She remembered the last conversation in which he promised to call with any uncovered information.
“Your voice sounds strained. Has something happened?”
She wondered how in the hell he picked up on it so fast. Then again, he’d known her a few years. No use in trying to deceive him.
“Matt’s been shot, but he’s recovering,” she said.
“Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?”
“Yes. Give me some good news.” She moved away from Matt’s bed and walked out into the hall. There were two FBI agents stationed there.
“That’s why I called. I need your help,” Jonathan said.
“That’s a switch. You’re generally ripping me off. Okay, sorry about that. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just a little stressed with the situation here at the hospital. What can I do to help you?”
“I don’t know if you can, if Matt is out of action. I thought he might use his contacts to track someone down,” Jonathan said.
“I believe I have the same ability. What have you learned?” She didn’t want him to not tell her anything just because Matt suffered from temporarily being out of action.
“I don’t know if it will lead anywhere, but I think I have the name of the man that visited Dmitri Alexandrovitch in Canada….”
“That’s great,” Bridget interjected.
“Not only that, I also have a picture of him.”
“Come on, give,” she demanded as Jonathan stalled. “What do you want?”
“My only goal is to help you find the icon. I mean that. I know you’re skeptical based on our recent history, but it’s the truth. So please keep me in the loop as you pursue the clue I’m willing to give you.”
“I have my doubts, but I promise to keep you posted if the lead pays off,” Bridget said and then waited.
“The man’s name who visited Dimtri in Canada is named Mike Alexandro. He took a flight from Vancouver to Savannah, Georgia. It may be nothing, but the name is similar to the one you gave me. I thought you might be able to check it out. Photo coming to your phone when we hang up.”
“I can do that.” She walked back into Matt’s room where he finally slept peacefully.
“Remember your promise,” Jonathan said as he ended the call. The photo appeared on her phone a few seconds later. Bridget stared at it to memorize the face. She now needed to make some decisions. Matt remained unable to help in his current condition and she thought better of going to Liz even though Liz apologized for underestimating her.
The S.O.E. team of Liz and Matt were officially tasked with breaking up the homegrown jihadist group and to stop their procuring of weapons. The name and photo she received from Jonathan could be a red herring. She could be wasting time while Jonathan followed a different lead to find the icon before she did. On the other hand, it could also be legitimate information. She needed to get it tracked down but didn’t want to leave Matt, her partner now and that fact meant something to her. This new lead might be the thing to get them going again, and it might just lift her out of the slump of earlier in the day, out of her feeling of defeat.
Bridget left the hospital to get a late dinner and to evaluate the new information she obtained from Jonathan. She firmly believed her duty was to be with Matt at this time. Consequently, she needed help in finding out about Mr. Mike Alexandro.
Her eyes regained their sparkle when she realized she knew how to get it done.
37
Alexandria, Virginia
After a late supper at a local diner, Bridget called Scott’s number while she walked to the hospital a few minutes before ten in the evening.
“Hello, Bridget. How’s Matt?” Gerti said when she answered the phone in Scott’s apartment.
“He’s fine and recovering. It’ll be a few more days. But listen. I have a job for you two if you’re up for it.”
“Anything. We’re bored sitting here waiting for something to do. Any new leads? We feel like we’re at rock bottom and I know you’re worried,” Gerti said.
“You got that right. But I’ve some new information and I’d like you guys to pursue it.” Bridget entered the hospital foyer and headed to the elevators.
“What do you need us to do? Scott’s in the shower right now.”
Bridget gave her the information she received from Jonathan. “So I need you to get to Savannah and find out what you can.” The elevator doors opened for her to get in.
“Great. We’re on it. We’ll keep you posted.”
“Good luck,” Bridget said and hung up. She sent the photo to Gerti. When she stepped off the elevator on Matt’s hospital floor, she stepped into an empty hallway.
Something’s wrong.
She looked to the nurse’s station beside the elevator and saw no one there. Weird, she thought. She moved toward the station and the scene made her freeze. Two nurses lay on the floor behind the counter with bullet holes in their heads. She looked down the hall and immediately noticed the absence of the FBI guards.
Reaching into her purse, she retrieved the Glock handgun given to her by Liz and ran toward Matt’s room. The door stood open and Matt slept on his left side. After their last lethal engagement, she’d put the numbers Matt used to contact Liz on speed dial. She hit the number on her phone’s display.
“Liz, why aren’t the guards here?”
“They should be. Something is wrong. Get out of there,” Liz ordered.
“Not without Matt.”
“I’ll have replacement there in a few minutes. Keep this line open.”
Bridget moved to the room’s entrance. She then took a peek into the hall. There, not a hundred feet away, two men in white coats came out of opposite doors down the hallway. They proceeded toward her. She assumed they were doctors and stepped out into the hallway.
“Doctor, the nurses have been shot. Get help up here.”
As she spoke, the two raised weapons with what she guessed were silencers.
“Liz, they’re here and they have guns. Two Caucasian males dressed as doctors.”
The men started to run toward her. Both had their weapons raised and started firing at Bridget as they ran. Without hesitation, she fired two rounds at t
he leading man. Her instincts from her military training kicked in. Any one trying to kill her got killed with no mercy. The man she shot stumbled and fell.
She couldn’t retreat. There was nowhere to go in this room. Matt lay on the single bed in the room and there existed no other way out. She must defend the entrance to the room. If the second man got in, Matt would certainly be killed. The wall too thin to stop a bullet, but that gave her an idea. She listened as the man stopped his run in the hallway and started to creep toward the room. He moved slowly now and his shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor. She guessed he slid along the wall.
Bridget held her breath to hear better, eliminating any sound from her own breathing. She visualized the man attempting to cling to the wall while making his way toward the doorway. He wouldn’t want to be in the middle of the hall if Bridget poked her weapon out of the room. He would be too exposed there. She stepped sideways and slid along the interior wall of Matt’s room. She heard a sound from outside and estimated the attacker’s position on the other side of the thin wall. She fired two rounds through the wall, followed by two rounds a few feet further along.
She rushed to the doorway and took a quick look out. Three feet from the door lay a man in a white coat and he still grasped his weapon. After kicking the gun away, she checked him for identification and any other weapons. She did the same for the other attacker.
Bridget rushed to the nurse’s station halfway down the main hall. She stepped over the bodies and examined the desktop for an emergency number. She decided to just pick up the phone and dial zero. The hospital operator answered.