“I don’t know Elizabeth. You've done nothing wrong but I don’t love you; that's the truth. I like you a lot but…”
“But it’s not enough...”
“Well…” Mark kept on talking, “In fact, you don’t show overwhelming passion yourself, I think that the rational part of our brains is managing our relationship and is in full control. I think we both bargained that we could do away with the emotional problems. I’m not sure…but I know I need to feel shivers flowing down my spine to feel alive.”
“Stop it Mark, or else you’ll be giving me a lecture on sexual chemistry and I really don’t want to hear it. Call me when you get back to London. I don’t like to leave loose ends like this; I want to speak to you over a cup of coffee, not over the phone. Goodbye.”
Elizabeth hung up without letting Mark reply.
“Elizabeth, I don’t love you, but no matter what you call love, you just want someone to complete your life, a husband who will look after your welfare.” Savannah said to himself, and at that moment he felt something like a sense of liberation, then he fell asleep exhausted from the trip.
27
Colonel F. Braxter and his Deputy, J. Randles, were already in the meeting room on the second floor of the west wing when Mark entered the room eight minutes ahead of the scheduled meeting.
“Savannah, did you have a good trip?” asked Braxter.
“Yes, thank you, sir. I had no problem at the airports.”
“Shortly, I’ll introduce you to your new operational team. You’ll be working with Stein, Moore, Wilson, Jenkins and Hayes on the ‘Uday, the one who runs fast’ mission.”
At 8:30 in the morning, the five men entered the room and closed the door behind them.
“Gentlemen,” began Braxter. “This is Mark Savannah, the British agent who provided the information concerning the Uday Bouda matter from Pakistan.”
Mark introduced himself and shook everyone's hand.
“You’ve been briefed on the mission and what Savannah has been doing until two days ago. You also know that you have been summoned as a working team because you are all experts in special reconnaissance missions and anti-terrorism actions.
“Savannah sent us the contents of the hard disk of the laboratory thought to be Bouda’s. At first it seemed there was nothing of interest, then we identified a file containing a flyer advertising a Pakistani IT company. The file contained a link to their website, which you can see now on the screen.
“Browsing the website we found the usual information, a presentation of the company and its services, accompanied by a series of photographs.
“Actually it's digital steganography, breaking down the different images, our engineers have identified the pictures that you can see at the bottom of the photo; each picture has a tag with the same date.
“As you can see, it’s the image of a nuclear power plant and in the background you can see Uday Bouda in person, the date is November 20, 2007…four days ago.
“The power plant is located at Fessenheim in the French region of Alsace.
“Bouda has apparently chosen to sabotage the plant and to place all Europe under threat.
“Fessenheim was the first power plant to be built in France in the seventies and has two old PWR reactors; it’s located near both Germany and Switzerland; in addition, it was built near a fluvial hydropower plant...so you can imagine the magnitude of the disaster, which could in turn trigger a domino effect in neighboring countries.
“Your task is to thwart the attack without causing trouble. You will have the support of the French service; as planned, Savannah will terminate Bouda and will also be in command of the operation.
“To prevent leaks there will be no survivors: the world will never be aware of the attempted sabotage.
“You will leave the bodies on the ground: a team of cleaners will remove them and clear up all traces; the bodies will be taken back to Kabul in Afghanistan where, as planned, they will die “officially” in a firefight with UK and U.S. forces.”
A secretary entered the room without knocking and left another stylized black and white drawing in front of each of them.
“The hologram will be available in 10 minutes and will remain active for two hours; afterwards it will self-destruct as usual. Gentlemen, you will all leave for France tomorrow afternoon, I will be your only contact...that's all, thanks...meeting started 8:30 am, ended 10:15 am.”
Braxter sent the message to the central unit and left the room followed by Randles.
“Hey, Savannah, would you like some coffee?” asked Jenkins in a friendly tone.
“Why not? Thanks,” Mark said.
“Very well, let's go down to the cafeteria, it’s the best coffee in the whole district, and we can briefly talk before going to study the instructions,” Jenkins replied, smiling.
28
The cafeteria consisted of a single very large room with many tables, and was clean and tidy; they asked for coffee at the counter, took it to a table and sat down.
“Are you a psychiatrist, Savannah?”
“Yes, and you? What’s your background?”
“I’m a musician.”
“What?”
“A musician, I play the tenor sax.”
“Very interesting, so the CIA is looking for talent with multiple gifts as well...I guess you have the gift of absolute pitch...and as you play a transposing instrument...perfect feeling for the notes and frequencies.”
“Damn it! That's astute!” said a surprised Jenkins, who was beginning to see Mark as more than just a bothersome shrink.
Suddenly Savannah was startled. He sensed his expression revealed this and quickly recomposed himself. He steadied his gaze on a man who was asking the bartender for a cup of coffee.
“Jenkins, do you happen to know the guy with the green sweater at the counter now?” Mark asked nonchalantly.
Jenkins turned his head, looked at the man and replied, “No, we have so many people here, why do you ask?”
“He reminds me of someone. I may have already met him on a few occasions, but I don’t remember where and I would like to avoid looking foolish.”
Suddenly, the guy with the green sweater came to their table, which was the closest table to the bar, carrying his coffee. “Is this seat free? May I sit down?”
“Please do,” Mark said. “My name is Mark Savannah and this is my colleague Samuel Q. Jenkins, anti-terrorism.”
“Nice to meet you, my name is Richard Reed. I’m the CIA consultant to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime. We’re cooperating with you guys in the fight against drug production in Afghanistan. Surprised I haven’t seen you guys here before; I come to headquarters every three months.”
“And how is the situation in the country?” asked Jenkins.
“Apparently quiet, the joint policy of the three countries, Iran, Pakistan and Afghanistan to fight the production and transport of drugs is beginning to bear fruit. We’ve seen a 15% increase in crops converted to wheat over the last year. And how are you guys getting on?”
“I would say that's a very good result! We’re posted to Europe, although we return quarterly to headquarters and, luckily, at the moment we don't see any threats capable of a terrorist attack. We’re mainly engaged in ETA surveillance.” Mark lied. In fact, the man in front of him was the Westerner who had negotiated for the opium in Pakistan.
He was amazed at how freely Reed acted, and at the same time furious, remembering the unreadable photos that the agencies had received; in fact, he did not have a shred of evidence against him.
“How long do you usually stay at Langley?” asked Mark.
“A couple of weeks and then I leave again, and you?”
“It's the same for us. I think it's standard procedure for agents abroad.”
“Jenkins we have to go, it's been a pleasure meeting you Reed.” Mark stood up and held out his hand and Jenkins did the same thing.
When they left the cafeteria, Jenkins stopped him and as
ked,
“Savannah, why did you tell that story?”
“Because, having the operations in the same field of action, it is prudent for nobody to expose themselves and, accordingly, he only told us about part of his activities. You're new to this job, huh, musician? What should I expect from you?” he replied in an unpleasant tone so that Jenkins would stop talking about Reed.
“Sorry Savannah, you can expect speed and absolute precision from me. I usually don’t take the initiative...but you already knew that, headshrinker.”
“The teams are small because each one must trust their partners, while maintaining his own role. I trust you Jenkins, but not those who are outside of the team. Good night, see you in Paris!”
Savannah shook his hand warmly and walked away, so Samuel felt less humiliated by the idiotic impression he had made earlier.
29
Mark had just entered his room at the hotel and, before reading the operation instructions, he sent a message to Pavel.
“Digitrevenant69 QRL?”
“Digitrevenant69 negative, QRV.”
“All about CIA agent Richard Reed, no photos, works for ISI and UNODC, no evidence, my hands are tied. He who finds an enemy, finds a treasure MK.”
“QRV-Digitrevenant69, HD steganography confirmed nuclear power plant images, you will see the movies tomorrow night in cinemascope. Leaving?”
“QRV Digitrevenant69, QSL steganography found something else in addition to the plant?”
“Negative, Digitrevenant69 over and out, I'll call you when QRV.”
Mark had confirmation that the CIA technicians had done a good job and that there was no other encrypted information on the hard disk.
He turned on the smartphone and activated the black and white drawing. Departure had been arranged from Washington for the following afternoon and he would arrive in Paris the next day. In Paris he would meet with the team at 4:00 pm in the basement of the Gendarmerie Nationale. He would then describe the action plan and receive logistical support from the French service, supervised by the British; then they would all leave for Fessenheim.
Mark went out for dinner and decided to eat alone in a Tex Mex restaurant, fajitas, burritos and quesadillas with a side dish of the consequent heartburn that stayed with him all night.
At 2:00 in the morning, while he was taking two tablets of anti-acid, he saw the smartphone light up. It was a message from Pavel.
“Digitrevenant69, found Swedish cracker for security test on CIA, he wants $5,000 to do it and keep quiet. I’ll need $ 1,000 to change the line after receiving his files. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good, Digitrevenant69. Payment upon results. Goodnight, MK.”
Finally, at three in the morning, Savannah fell asleep, but forgot to turn out the bedside table light.
30
The flight to Paris was intriguing; Mark was in fact sitting next to a Somali model on her way to Paris for the casting of a luxury brand.
Aisha lived in New York, spoke four languages, was the daughter of a diplomat, and flirted with him blatantly the whole time they were both awake.
She also invited him to dinner in Paris the evening of their arrival, telling him that she was staying by herself at the Hyatt Regency Paris Madeleine.
Although she was beautiful, Mark wasn’t aroused by her; the conversation was light but felt contrived, as if it had been written phrase by phrase by a Barbie doll script writer who was only interested in superficial details.
While a puzzled Mark was reflecting over this type of direct and intrusive approach, thinking that once the plane landed, he would check on her to see if she was an enemy agent, Aisha shamelessly put her hand between his thighs and let it slip.
“Do you like that?” she asked.
Savannah removed her hand from between his thighs, even if it was too late for him to control an erection.
“Forget it Aisha, we’re on a plane.”
“Yet I got the feeling that you liked it.”
“I am not made of steel.” he replied.
“Don’t you like me?” she continued, not giving up.
“What do you want from me?”
“Kiss you, fuck you. I don’t think it's a mortal sin...or does it bother you when a woman takes the initiative?”
“I am not a one shot guy. I don’t like being an object of pleasure for you to use and throw away and, if I have to tell you everything, you may have some serious infectious disease hidden behind your beauty.”
“Um... in fact, you told me you were a doctor.”
“A psychiatrist to be precise. Listen, I don’t know who you are, I don’t know you. I couldn’t have fun with you, and even if I was interested in you, I would need time to adjust, that's all.”
Aisha didn't bat an eyelid, “Complicated, this psychiatry, however if you change your mind this is my phone number. I think we could have fun together...I’m very attracted to you.” And she gave him a business card that smelled of spices.
The plane landed five minutes earlier than scheduled at Charles de Gaulle; Mark left Aisha with a cold handshake in the terminal, his mind already on the appointment at 4:00 pm.
He climbed into a taxi and asked to be taken from Roissy to the city center.
31
Savannah stopped in a bistro to eat something quickly; he still had an upset stomach and wanted to avoid irritating sandwiches filled with sauces, afterwards he briefly strolled down the Champs Elysées and took another taxi to rue St. Didier.
At 3:50 pm in the basement of the General Directorate of Gendarmerie his team of American agents was already waiting: Stein, Moore, Wilson, Jenkins and Hayes. There were also two supervisors from British intelligence that Mark knew very well indeed: Dickinson and Stevens. Immediately, he introduced them to his team.
The men of the French service arrived at 4:00 o'clock; there were six of them.
After making the introductions, Mark took the floor, “Everyone has already received their instructions; therefore, the goal of this meeting is to get to know each other to finalize operation details. Dickinson and Stevens will only be supervising our work, they will never be directly involved in the operation, they don’t really exist, but they will always be in contact with the team.
“The U.S. and French teams will be responsible for thwarting the sabotage-attack, killing the terrorists and allowing me to terminate Bouda. I am the only one responsible for this last task. Remember that the bodies, including that of Bouda, must be left on the ground; the UK cleaners will be in the area as of tomorrow, and invisible as usual.
“The U.S. team will be deployed on the outer perimeter of the two reactors that you have already studied, together with fifteen men of the Groupe d'Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale (GIGN). The French team will cover the internal area, mingling with the staff on duty.
“We will not use our code names during radio contact for the operation, but rather numbers from 15 to 44, also for the GIGN, whose faces and numbers you need to learn quickly.
“No one will sleep for the two days of the operation. You will find your meals in the bag which will be provided to you by the logistics department at the exit. The numbers will be assigned to people according to the usual procedure and then inserted into the smartphones which will later self-destruct.
“The weapons and equipment are already loaded in four anonymous cars ready in basement F from which we’re going to leave for Fessenheim within two hours, starting with the first crew of three men from the French team. After twenty minutes, the next one will depart and so on.
“The keys are on the table, we will meet the men of the GIGN in Fessenheim. That's all, have a good trip and see you soon. Jenkins and Hayes, the three of us will start last; we’ll meet in underground F in an hour.”
All the agents left the room and Mark closed the door again; he had seen a message come in from Pavel and he wanted to read it in peace; he knew that the basements of the Gendarmerie had no cameras or bugs. In fact, one of the cl
eaners had checked the area a few hours before.
“Digitrevenant69, Terminator 2 has surprised me; the others are completely superficial and boring. I’ll talk to you when you are online.”
“Digitrevenant69, QRV, go ahead.”
“I recovered the frames that Terminator 2 had overwritten; there are three amateur microfilms all made the same way but with different content: Bouda is blackmailing the person in the movie by threatening to use the recorded video if he is betrayed. Mark, you’ll want to watch that last part slowly, meanwhile the cracker is working. Digitrevenant69 over and out. Call whenever you want.”
Pavel had announced something that was extremely unpleasant, as if it was a personal matter; he hadn’t used the usual Q code and he didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t like him to behave like this.
Savannah looked at his watch; he had time to look over the videos before leaving the Gendarmerie and he was alone in the room. He opened the file without hesitation.
Pavel was right. Initially it appeared that Bouda was threatening retaliation with the page of the newspaper showing the news and the day of release of the newspaper and then the videos.
The first two were from the year 1992 during the first phase of the Afghan civil war: two factions of mujahedeen were trying to destroy each other through attacks camouflaged as the work of the Islamic Party.
The third video forced him to sit down, feeling light headed and with a violent attack of tachycardia and sweating: the date on the newspaper was that of October 4, 1993, and the news was about the Black Hawk shot down with Bouda threatening to supply the frames in question to the CIA.
Mark felt his blood pressure rising and his heart going mad as he watched: a Westerner picked up an RPG and fired on a U.S. Humvee that was passing by at the time; he had waited in ambush for the Humvee knowing it would have to pass through his fire.
Black Hawk Day Rewind: An action packed spy thriller (Mark Savannah Espionage Series Book 1) Page 7
