by J C Ryan
It required taking words from the translations she knew Mackenzie was familiar with and then discussing them as if it were part of the work they were translating. Thankfully, Mackenzie had become familiar with many words that no one, other than the two of them, would be able to translate. Liu, therefore, considered it was safe to proceed with caution.
“I was captured,” were the first words she put on the screen.
Mackenzie had been deep into a part of the work that was beginning to shed some light on her research when she looked up and saw Liu’s message. She did a quick double take and was, once again, thankful for the niqab.
“When?” she responded in like manner.
“Not long after you.”
They stopped it there and went back to their work but over the course of the day Liu was able to relay to Mackenzie how she had been taken from an airport in Hong Kong and held captive somewhere with no idea of what was going on. All she could gather was someone wanted her for something and when the moment arrived she would understand.
Mackenzie said how sorry she was that she’d thought her a turncoat and Liu accepted her apology.
A few days later, Liu had just related to Mackenzie that she’d heard she and Liam were dead. Mackenzie asked if she had heard any news about Carter.
Liu said no, but that she’d heard there was one man who survived the explosion. He had been in the restroom inside the restaurant at the time of the explosion. She was captured before she could learn anymore.
Mackenzie’s heart erupted with joy when she learned that. Carter was alive and free! Thank you, God.
Mackenzie told Liu what she thought. “He’ll find us, I’m sure.”
After Liu’s arrival, the research moved a lot faster, and Nasser began to relax. Apparently both women were abiding by his rules, and that pleased him. The thing he had feared most was Liu telling Mackenzie that Carter was alive; that was a trump card he wanted to hang on to.
***
Hunter dropped his head into his hands and inwardly collapsed. He was feeling decidedly ill, finding it hard to breathe and his heart was racing, making him gasp for air. Sweat was beading on his forehead; he finally managed to call his secretary.
She quickly helped him out of his chair and onto the floor, called for an ambulance, and then called Irene.
Irene’s advanced first aid training helped her to quickly assess the situation. She made Hunter as comfortable as possible as she helped him to sit up, “That will help, okay?”
He nodded, “Thanks, that’s better.”
She went on to check for other symptoms, noting his swollen legs, racing pulse, and she detected an uneven heartbeat, in his pulse. And, she realized, it’s becoming even more erratic.
She said nothing until the paramedics arrived and then suggested to them he might be suffering from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Upon their examination, they agreed that her assessment was highly likely. They placed oxygen firmly over his nose and mouth and attached an EKG machine to his chest in case of heart failure. Then they quickly vanished down the corridor and transported him to the hospital.
A little later when she had the information she needed from the doctors, Irene rang James at Freydis and told him the news. “The doctors have confirmed that he had an enlarged heart, which is serious James. It’s one of those things you don’t recover from; it slowly kills you. It will be impossible for him to return to work, this is retirement time for Hunter.”
“Oh hell, poor man. You want me back immediately, right?”
“Right James.”
“I’m on my way.”
Several days later, Hunter was firmly established in the hospital and now knew there would be no more workdays for him. The doctors had made it abundantly clear that, in fact, his days were severely shortened unless he adopted a relaxed and sedentary lifestyle. That included properly supervised exercise, proper food, no alcohol, and definitely no stress; only then could they say he would be able to live out his days for maybe a few more years. It was made so clear to him, he instantly agreed to all the doctor’s recommendations, and gladly handed the reins to Rhodes.
"Almost like a hot potato." James thought when he went in to visit him.
James wasn’t all that sure how he felt about the radical change from being a mobile agent, as he needed to be, to Acting Director for some weeks and then quickly to Director, but figured he’d better get used to it. Nevertheless, there was a condition. He would not take the job if he couldn’t have Irene appointed as his second in command, in other words, Deputy Director; he was not going to ‘do a Hunter’ and try to carry the burden on his own.
Luckily for him, Irene agreed, and the new management structure was immediately deployed at A-Echelon.
Chapter 22 -
They must be desperate
Soon after the King made the official announcement about Ibrahimi El Fadl’s appointment as the new deputy director of the General Intelligence Presidency, Xavier Algosaibi met with him to brief him about what would be expected of him during his tenure in that position.
Algosaibi lifted the veil for El Fadl and told him about the undercover operations going on at the Institute of Scientific Research and Development – ISRD - located in the Jabal Thawr Mountains, six miles south of Mecca.
El Fadl’s first major assignment was to launch a new project to capture Professor Carter Devereux and transport him to the ISRD.
Algosaibi told him to secure the services of Competitive Response Solutions – CRS – to conduct all the surveillance and intelligence gathering for the mission. He explained to El Fadl that CRS had provided excellent services to them in the past and that the information they provided about the Devereux’s research and movements had been precise. They were not to blame for the failure of the Armenian and Jerusalem operations, that had been Bin Bandar’s failure and he had suffered the consequences.
El Fadl learned that Nate Gordon was the CRS contact person responsible for all Saudi Arabian projects and that Daiyan Nasser, Director of ISRD would facilitate his introduction to Gordon.
El Fadl was pleased and honored by Algosaibi’s personal interest, support, and trust in him. He and Algosaibi saw eye to eye about the future of Saudi Arabia and the expansion of Wahhabism across the globe. By the end of the meeting, El Fadl understood the significance of the new Devereux mission entrusted to him and had no illusions about the consequences of failure.
***
Nasser was still contemplating Mackenzie’s idea of launching a global hunt for a copy of the Sirralnnudam. This was one of those decisions that he felt was above his pay grade, and which he had always referred to Youssef Bin Bandar in the past. Nasser was not a security or intelligence expert, and it made him very uncomfortable and reluctant to make a decision like that without the authorization of someone higher up the food chain. In the end, he decided he was not going to take the risk. He would give it more time to see if someone with the necessary authority would emerge or wait for the next quarterly board meeting, two months away, to table the matter.
Nasser’s problem turned out to be short-lived. He received instructions to travel to Riyadh to meet with some of the members of the ISRD Board. While attending a dinner at Algosaibi’s mansion one evening, he was introduced to the new Deputy Director of GIP, Ibrahimi El Fadl.
Later that night, after dinner while all the men were gathered in the lounge, drinking coffee, smoking, and talking politics, El Fadl indicated that Nasser should follow him to Algosaibi’s study for a private discussion.
In the study, El Fadl asked Nasser to make the necessary arrangements to meet with Nate Gordon and also solved Nasser’s problem by authorizing the global hunt for a copy of the Sirralnnudam. It was agreed that El Fadl would discuss their requirements with Gordon when they met and contract CRS to get it for them.
Two weeks later El Fadl and his family traveled to Dubai for a short holiday before he would assume his duties as deputy director of GIP. Daiyan Nasser had persuaded Nate Gordon to ma
ke a small change in his travel plans so as to include a two-day visit to Dubai on his business trip to India.
Gordon was more than happy to accommodate the request. Since he had become the Saudi Arabia account manager, he had doubled the CRS’s projects and almost tripled the income from the Kingdom. His Saudi portfolio accounted for close to thirty percent of CRS’s total revenue.
The Saudi’s never hesitated to pay well as long as they got results and CRS was good at producing results. CRS almost never got involved in the operational side of their clients’ businesses; it was not their area of expertise, but when it came to providing substantial, timely and actionable information, CRS was unmatched. For the privilege of having that kind of information, the Saudi’s didn’t mind putting their hands deep into their pockets.
The room where Gordon and El Fadl would meet late at night was in a hotel where neither of them stayed. The room was booked in the name of a local resident and was swept for bugs at least three times before El Fadl arrived. Once he was given assurance that the room was secured, he was on his own and used the service elevator from the basement to reach the room.
As arranged, Gordon turned up ten minutes after El Fadl. They recognized each other from their photographs and, thanks to Nasser acting as a mediator to set the meeting up and his glowing character reference for both of them, they trusted each other.
Gordon struck an imposing figure. He was about six five, in his mid-forties, had curly blond hair, and blue eyes. El Fadl thought Gordon’s appearance spoke of Germanic or Scandinavian origins rather than English or French as his surname suggested. On Nasser’s request Gordon was dressed very informally, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, Nike running shoes and New York Yankees baseball cap.
El Fadl, who wore a suit and tie every day, felt a bit out of sorts with his informal attire, but he knew it was important that he not be recognized by anyone other than Gordon. Gordon’s large frame dwarfed him. He stood about five-ten in his socks, was in his late 50’s, had salt and pepper hair and wore a neatly trimmed beard on his olive-skinned face.
“Mr. Gordon,” El Fadl started. “Please allow me to convey greetings from a mutual friend, Daiyan Nasser of the ISRD, and also his gratitude for the outstanding job your organization did in collecting and providing information about the research and movements of the Devereuxs. Since Dr. Devereux started working for the ISRD, the respirocyte project has been moving forward in leaps and bounds.”
“Thank you for that,” Gordon smiled. “But please, call me Nate. Youssef and I were on a first name basis as long as we knew each other.”
“Thank you, Nate,” El Fadl nodded. “You may call me Ibrahimi.”
With the formalities out of the way the two men sat down, each with a cup of strong Arabica coffee, and talked business.
“So Ibrahimi, I understood from Daiyan that you might have a need for our services again. Is that correct?”
Although he had an American education, El Fadl hasn't been in the USA for many years, and he had to remind himself that the American’s direct, no-nonsense approach was not rudeness, but rather, efficiency.
“Yes, that is indeed the case,” he stated. “As you know the Devereux mission was not as entirely successful as we had hoped it would be.”
“Let’s call it fifty percent successful,” Gordon grinned. “It was definitely not the outcome you wanted, but I wouldn’t call it a complete failure.”
El Fadl was a little embarrassed but managed to hide it well, and he appreciated the fact that Gordon didn’t make any derogatory comments about the botched mission. He was still contemplating how to approach the subject of the failed Armenian mission with Gordon, without making his colleagues look like a bunch of amateurs.
“So the first new assignment we have for CRS is to start a new surveillance and information gathering project on Professor Devereux. We have to get him to come to work for us.”
Gordon managed to suppress the smile that threatened to break across his face when he heard what El Fadl said and the desperation in his voice. No sales talk would be necessary; this was going to be an easy deal. The client was desperate, and it didn’t escape him that El Fadl used the words ‘first new assignment’ which meant there was going to be more than one assignment coming out of this meeting.
Two hours later, after at least four cups of the extra strong Arabica coffee, and few more cigars, the deal was complete. CRS would take on two projects for the ISRD. The contract price and payment plan were agreed on, and the paperwork would be handled by the lawyers and accountants over the course of the next few days. As soon as the usual 50% deposit cleared in CRS’s bank account in Switzerland the projects would kick off.
The two men wished each other well, expressed their mutual gratitude for a good meeting, shook hands, and said their good-byes.
Dwayne Miller almost fell out his chair when he saw the paperwork coming across his desk a few days later. Fifty million dollars! He had to use all his self-control not to jump up and run around the office shouting out the amount for everyone to hear. It was the biggest single contract in the history of CRS’s existence. And that was achieved during a two-hour meeting while on vacation in Dubai.
They must be desperate.
Chapter 23 -
I have to find them
In his new role, James’ world rapidly turned into near chaos. He took on the responsibility for all of A-Echelon’s operations while having to give top priority to launching a mission to rescue Mackenzie and Liam. Coupled with that was the equally important issue of saving the world from the threat of annihilation by an ancient nuclear weapon.
His decision to appoint Irene as his second in command turned out to be a brilliant one. Irene was an excellent planner and administrator, as well as a highly skilled intelligence expert, and an experienced operator. As such, she quickly became James’ confidant and right hand. She quickly expanded her already vast network of connections throughout the political and government officials’ labyrinth in Washington to become James’ eyes and ears in the capital.
James decided to have her assume control of both Devereux projects. As soon as he informed Carter that Irene would be stepping into his role as Carter’s handler and contact at A-Echelon, she arranged with Carter to fly down to DC for a few days so that they could plan and launch the mission to find Mackenzie and Liam and reignite the search for the ancient nukes.
When Carter arrived, he was escorted to Hunter’s office which James now occupied as acting Director of A-Echelon. James and Irene were waiting for him, and after the three of them exchanged the usual how-are-you’s and other pleasantries, they filled their coffee cups, took their seats and Carter looked at James and Irene, in turn, waiting for one of them to start the conversation.
The first thing James noticed when Carter walked in was the change in his demeanor, the light in his eyes and the new energy radiating out of him. It was gratifying to see the positive change and new zest in his friend.
More than a week had passed since James left Freydis, and Carter had used that time to think through and analyze all the information that James had shared with him. Neither one of them spoke, so Carter started the conversation. “Okay James, Irene, here I am; ready, willing, able and more motivated than I have ever been in my entire life.” He had a little smile playing on his lips as he continued. “I think you’ll understand when I say I’m a lot more than just a little eager to track down my family and bring them back home.”
Irene smiled, “We’re just as eager, Carter. But I probably don’t have to tell you that we have almost no leads to follow. I’ve gone through every scrap of information we have available, again and again, and I can’t find anything we can follow up on. That doesn’t mean it’s the end of the road; it just means it’s going to be much more of a challenge to track them down.”
“I understand that,” Carter nodded. “What about those people who were watching James’ hotel in Jerusalem and the people who were so keen to take pictures of us in India?”
“As for the photographers in India, we’re working on that already, but it’s not going to be easy. We have to get the cooperation of India’s Intelligence Bureau and for that, I have to go through the CIA. I’ve already made contact with them and am waiting for an answer,” Irene replied. “I still have some good contacts there, right up to the Director if necessary.”
“Okay.” Carter nodded.
“As for the people outside the hotel in Jerusalem, our Mossad contacts have already questioned them, but they couldn’t get much out of them. Apparently the two men were instructed to watch the hotel and record the guests coming and going, and photograph everyone. They didn’t know who they were working for except that they were paid well to deliver the information to an internet dead letter box at the end of every day. Again, there is nothing that points specifically to you or James or that could lead us to the next bit of information.”
“Okay, I get the picture. It’s a familiar concept for me as an archeologist to go on a hunt for something that I know exists but without much, or sometimes any evidence of its existence. I usually overcome that problem by continuing to dig until I find what I am looking for.” Carter grinned.
James and Irene smiled. Carter’s positive attitude was contagious and inspiring.
Carter paused, and a grim look came over his face as he spoke again. “Now, the next thing that hit me like a ton of bricks, while I was reading and thinking through everything, was the realization that someone in A-Echelon has been leaking information out to those killers. Am I right about that?”
“Yes Carter,” Irene confirmed, “unfortunately, that is the case.” Irene became serious, “James and I have been speculating about it for weeks already, but now we are convinced. As you already know, both of us are ex-CIA field agents. We have firsthand experience of how awkward it is to operate in an environment where you know a mole is on the loose.”
Carter sat back and took a sip of his coffee. “I imagine that must be like living with a constant fear that you are about to feel the stab of a knife between your shoulder blades.”