Firewall (The Firewall Spies Book 1)

by Andrew Watts

  Colt said, “That sounds like a security threat.”

  “Definitely.”

  Colt mentally stored that fact for a debrief with the crypto geeks later, and said, “So an American counterintelligence officer met with Sheryl, her brother, and Petrov, and then two days later, Kozlov shows up dead.”

  Ava nodded.

  A thought occurred to him. “Ava, who killed Kozlov?”

  She looked at him, ice in her eyes. “We don’t know.”

  Colt said, “Why didn’t Samantha say any of this? Why are you telling me this now, seconds before we go back in there?”

  “Samantha wasn’t convinced you were trustworthy. For all she knows, you were that American in the meeting with Sheryl.”

  Colt let out a breath, rubbing his chin and looking over the water. “How do you know she isn’t right?”

  Ava gave him a look. “She’s not. I know your heart, Colt. You are honest and true.”

  He sighed, turning away. “I am not sure what to believe right now. I’ve worked with Wilcox for years.”

  “Ed Wilcox?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s high on our list of possibilities.”

  “He’s coming here to meet with me.”

  Ava’s eyes widened. “When?”

  “Afterward.”

  “You need to be careful.”

  Colt swore to himself. “So what is all of this, then? This Trinity meeting in Capri? Transferring cash in cryptocurrency. The video about Jeff Kim trying to spread out the technology in a safe way? Why would Wilcox tell me to facilitate the US purchase if he’s part of the conspiracy?”

  Ava said, “We don’t know for sure who has set up this Capri meeting. But if it is Wilcox and the Russians, he’ll stand to benefit. Think about it. One of the demands was to identify and recall all the spies within the Pax AI organization. If the Russians have organized this meeting, it would be an elegant way to eliminate their competition.”

  “But they’ll be giving away the code? Sharing the technology?”

  “Do you really think the US government will allow this deal to be honored?”

  “But the smart contracts?”

  Ava said, “We aren’t convinced they’ll work unless Jeff Kim is really involved. If this is a deception, it could just be a way for whoever is behind it to steal money and unmask their competitors’ spies. And with all that’s happened, Jeff Kim’s access would be limited at best. Wilcox will have more than enough evidence to suggest Kim is corrupt. Hell, that video we just watched proves it. He’s trying to sell classified technology to the enemies of your country . . .”

  “Of our country, I thought.”

  Ava gave him a disapproving look. “We can discuss that later. I need you to get on board with this. You have to understand the urgency of the situation, and where everyone’s loyalty lies. I don’t think you should trust Wilcox. It is very likely he is in bed with the Russians.”

  “This is crazy, Ava—”

  “All conspiracies are crazy until proven true.”

  “But Jeff Kim’s video . . .”

  “Pax AI can easily generate a deepfake of that quality now. Our competitors can too.”

  “You’re saying I can’t believe my eyes and ears.”

  She gave him a look. “You never could. You have to follow your internal compass. And yours is as strong as they come.”

  She gripped his arm and they stared at each other for a moment, a tug of war in Colt’s mind. The pull of decades of training and service to country against the allure of a woman he trusted and cared for deeply.

  “Ava, why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I don’t know when I’m going to see you next. After this meeting, we will go our separate ways. I don’t know what will happen, but I think we can work together. I think you want to do what’s right to protect humanity from disaster. To protect us from ourselves.”

  Colt looked at his watch. “We need to get back to the meeting and sign.”

  “You still don’t believe me. Fine. I don’t blame you. But you should believe me, Colt.” Ava’s eyes were dark as she turned away. She stormed around the corner, her footfalls echoing along the cobblestone walkway.

  Colt thought of calling after her but felt the buzzing in his pocket once again. He looked down at his phone and saw another text from Wilcox.

  Status update?

  A group of nearby birds began squawking and fluttered by. In the distance, the off-key sound of an Italian ambulance or police siren began to wail.

  Colt started to type a response to Wilcox but was distracted by a group of tourists running along the path, casting frightened looks over their shoulders.

  The sirens in the distance grew louder.

  Wilcox: Call me ASAP.

  Colt dialed and Wilcox picked up.

  “Where are you? Don’t go to your meeting. There’s been an incident.”

  40

  Wilcox spoke on the phone. “Italian police are responding to some type of chemical attack on the island of Capri. NSA just picked it up on the Italian police scanner. We think it’s at your meeting spot.”

  Ava.

  Colt ended the phone call and began running around the corner, in view of the hotel.

  Several bodies were spread about the cobblestone court outside the hotel entrance. They looked to be catering and hotel staff. One middle-aged woman lay on her back, her eyes bulging, spittle and vomit dripping from her mouth.

  An intense fear gripped Colt as he saw the dead victims. If this was some type of nerve toxin, how close could he get before he was in danger of breathing it in? He stepped sideways, desperately trying to look inside the hotel without coming any closer.

  “Psst. Colt! Up here.” Ava was standing twenty feet up the stone path, waving for his attention. She was climbing up onto a rock wall that rose around the hotel grounds.

  “Is it safe?” Colt said, jogging over.

  “I think so, based on the winds. We can stay away from the east building. From the looks of it, that’s where the attack happened.”

  He hustled up to stand with her, ignoring the chilling thought he was even now inhaling some toxic gas. Climbing over the stone wall, Colt followed her into the hotel’s ivy-covered archway and onto the roof of the westernmost building. The location seemed safe, with a good one hundred feet of distance from their meeting location.

  A moment later they stood overlooking the back garden area where their meeting had occurred. More than a dozen bodies were strewn about the lawn.

  Irina and several of her guards. Several men and women Colt had identified as intelligence officers from other nations, a few competitor business representatives, and more hotel staff. None of them were moving. Each had the same foam dripping from their mouth and nasal cavities.

  Colt and Ava easily could have been among them, if they had arrived a few moments earlier.

  “No sign of the SVR men,” Ava said.

  “Or the MSS,” Colt noted. He nudged Ava, motioning for her to follow him out of there.

  They left together and began walking away from the crime scene just as the Italian emergency services pulled up. Colt walked up to the Italian police officer and told him in English they shouldn’t go in there. Toxic gas. The man nodded, apparently already aware. He kept emergency services at bay and began setting up a perimeter, which allowed Colt and Ava to depart without interruption.

  After a few minutes, Ava said, “What kind of toxin do you think they used? Will we be affected?”

  Colt said, “I don’t know.”

  Ava took out her phone and made a call to Samantha.

  They arrived at the Mossad safehouse, and Samantha showed them to separate bathrooms where they showered and changed into spare sets of clothes. The Mossad man wore latex gloves as he placed their original clothing into a trash bag and disposed of it.

  When they were finished, Ava and Colt sat at a kitchen table. Colt’s clothes felt a size too tight. He was texting and calling
Wilcox, who had yet to respond.

  “Wilcox is not picking up.”

  Samantha and Ava shared a look at that.

  Soon Samantha was on her own phone, speaking in Hebrew. After a moment, she hung up.

  Looking at Colt, she said, “Your CIA handler is not on your side.”

  “Please don’t start with that. I appreciate you providing me shelter right now, but—”

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand. This is new information. We just received a joint intelligence message warning of a possible Russian operation. The information came from the Americans. One hour ago.”

  Colt frowned. “What are you saying?”

  Samantha sighed. “If the Americans knew something like this was about to happen, why didn’t Wilcox warn you?”

  Colt shook his head. He looked down at his phone screen, displaying all the calls to Wilcox that had gone unanswered. “I don’t know.”

  The curly-haired Israeli man called from the other room. Samantha walked out of the kitchen, leaving Colt alone with Ava.

  “She is telling you the truth, you know,” Ava said. She looked worried about him more than anything.

  Colt nodded. “Okay.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “Would you, if you were in my shoes?”

  Ava didn’t answer.

  Samantha called from the other room for them to come in. “You need to see this.”

  Ava and Colt walked into the room. A small couch sat in front of a TV. Skynews was on, showing a police bulletin with an image of a man’s face. It was a partial picture from CCTV, probably taken this morning as Colt walked through the Capri town square.

  Colt was wanted for questioning in relation to the Capri chemical attack.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  Colt’s phone began vibrating. He picked up to hear Wilcox’s voice. “I’m on the island. Have you seen the news?”

  “Yes.”

  Wilcox said, “Someone is framing you.”

  Colt said, “I’m aware.” Is it you?

  “We need to get you off the island quietly. The docks are a madhouse right now. Between the ferry backup this morning and the hazmat emergency, the whole island is trying to leave at once. Where are you? I’ll come meet you.”

  Colt looked at Ava and Samantha. Samantha’s expression was very serious. She had written out a note and was holding it up for him to see. Meet somewhere public. She had known what Wilcox would say.

  Colt said, “How about we meet somewhere public?”

  A pause on the other end. “We need to take some precautions, given the situation. Keep you out of sight.”

  “Ed, I have security concerns of my own.”

  Wilcox paused. Either he now understood and was sympathetic, or he was trying to think of a way to outmaneuver his agent. “Give me some time and I’ll text you a location to be at.” The phone went dead.

  Samantha tilted her head. “You still think he’s on your side?”

  Colt rubbed his chin. “I need to make another call.”

  Colt borrowed a burner phone from Samantha and dialed a number by memory.

  “This is Heather.”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  A pause as she placed his voice. Then, “Holy shitballs, man. What the hell happened? And why are you calling me?”

  “Are we all ears?” Is anyone else listening to this call?

  “No, the line is private.”

  “Promise?”

  “Colt, say what you need to say. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”

  “I’m worried Wilcox is compromised.”

  Weng sounded shocked. “Are you kidding right now? Your face is on international news. Our operation is tits up.”

  “Exactly. Why do you think that is?”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I’ve had some interesting conversations with other members of my cohort.”

  “You mean other nations’ intelligence officers? That’s what you mean when you say that, right? Let me guess, a female Israeli agent? Colt . . . don’t fall for it, dude—”

  “I’ve heard evidence—”

  “You’ve heard what they want you to hear. Come on. You know how this works.”

  “I believe there may be a Russian mole inside US counterintelligence on the West Coast.”

  Weng paused. “Well shit, if that’s true, then you shouldn’t be telling me this either.”

  “I have to trust someone. Time’s too short to do it any other way. Wilcox wants to meet with me in another hour. I’m worried something bad might happen.”

  “I’ve worked with Ed Wilcox for a long time—”

  “So have I . . . Will you just do me a favor? I want you to look into something, okay?”

  “Fine, what is it?”

  “Two nights before Kozlov died, Petrov and the Hawkinsons met with someone at Sheryl Hawkinson’s home in California. I think they met with our traitor. Can you look up where Ed was on that night?”

  “That should be easy, hold on.”

  Colt heard a pause and some typing.

  Weng said, “He flew from Vancouver to San Francisco that morning. Then flew back the next day.”

  “Any record of what he was doing?”

  “No. But it could have been him, Colt. He didn’t travel here that often before you came to town. So, I gotta be honest. This doesn’t look good for Ed. Shit. Can you explain to me—”

  “Not now.”

  “Colt, we need to get you out of there. Should I start calling people to grab Wilcox?”

  “Not yet. There’s one more thing I need you to look up.”

  41

  An hour later, Colt received Ed Wilcox’s text message.

  “Villa Jovis, sunset,” he read aloud. “Where’s that?”

  Ava said, “That’s the ruins. The first Roman Imperial Palace on the east end of the island.”

  Samantha said, “Not a good meeting spot. Well, not if you are worried about an escape route. It’s surrounded by cliffs. You should let us help cover you.”

  Colt shook his head. “If he’s going to arrest me, he’s going to arrest me. That’s just how it will have to happen.”

  “What if he’s going to kill you?” Ava said.

  Colt didn’t respond.

  “At least take this.” Samantha handed him a firearm.

  “Since we’re in Italy, I suppose I should make a joke about taking a cannoli,” Colt said.

  Samantha said, “I get it. That’s funny.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “Here, give me that.” He took the gun. A Glock 17 pistol.

  “Have you ever fired one of these?” asked Samantha.

  “Well, not at a person.”

  “If you have to do it, keep shooting until they go down,” said the curly-haired Israeli man. This was the first thing Colt had heard him say in English.

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  He held up a finger for Colt to wait, then handed him a holster. “Use the holster. Don’t stuff it in your pants like a cowboy.” He turned to Samantha and said something in Hebrew. She chuckled.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said maybe the American wants to get a cheap circumcision.”

  Colt took the holster and clipped it in place. He walked out the door and Ava followed. They were alone in a small courtyard. The sun was setting but the air was still warm. The distant sirens were still present, hazmat teams cleaning up the attack site.

  “Please, this is stupid,” Ava said. “You shouldn’t go.”

  “I have to.”

  “Be very careful.”

  He nodded and began walking along the city streets, sunglasses on and a white ball cap pulled down low over his brow. He wasn’t carrying a phone, to ensure he couldn’t be electronically tracked. The CIA-issued phones were supposed to have location tracking disabled when he used the security app, but he couldn’t be too careful.

  The streets were filled with tourists
who either couldn’t get off the island or didn’t want to. He didn’t blame them. It seemed like the danger had passed and the place was magnificent. A paradise of great food and luxurious hotels surrounded by lush gardens and lofty views of the Mediterranean.

  His own view was getting better by the step. The path had thinned to a paved walkway lined by decorative orange bricks. A stone wall rose up on one side of the path and tall green shrubs on the other.

  The ruins of Villa Jovis sat atop a one-thousand-foot mountain on the east end of the island. An impressive array of stone walls and rooms, tunnels and doorways. The remnants of a once-great empire.

  Colt was sweating and breathing heavily after the uphill walk. The sun had just set over the horizon, and he didn’t yet see anyone else. Tours had stopped more than an hour before. He continued past the ruins and walked up to a promenade, on which a small church was built. A statue of the Madonna was in the center of the promenade. A guardrail surrounded the area, the sea and sky beyond it.

  Now he saw Ed, who stood alone by the handrail, carefully studying Colt’s approach. As he walked, Wilcox nodded to someone to Colt’s left. Colt felt a rush of fear as three people appeared. Two men with H&K submachine guns, one of them prodding a frightened guest along.

  Colt knew the guest well.

  Jeff Kim.

  It was late morning in San Francisco, and Weng was typing furiously at her computer.

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re going so crazy about over there? You’ve been at it all morning,” said Sims. “You know this whole project is going to get shut down, right? There isn’t anything your computer can find that’s—”

  Weng spun around in her chair. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to scream at me?”

  Sims saw the look in her younger colleague’s eye and said, “Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”

  “I spoke to Colt.”

  Sims’s pupils dilated, but she kept cool. “When?”

  “A few hours ago. Colt thinks he has evidence that Wilcox is working with the Russians.”

  Sims’s chin rose ever so slightly, and a grim look came over her. When she spoke, her voice was low and dead serious. “Why didn’t you immediately report this?”