by Alex Lukeman
"Go on."
"Send me an email discussing our next face-to-face meeting as a group. They will be certain to intercept it."
"We have no such meeting scheduled," Gutenberg said.
"Whoever is monitoring you doesn't know that. If they think we are all going to be together and accessible it will make a tempting target. I thought your place in France might seem believable."
"You think they'll send in a team? Try to assassinate us?"
"Wouldn't you?" Krivi said.
"It's worth a try," Gutenberg said. His voice hissed with suppressed anger. "They are going to regret interfering."
"Have you chosen the target for the next phase?" Krivi asked.
"Let's wait until we find out who has been spying on us. Releasing the plague on their home ground would be fitting punishment for their arrogance."
CHAPTER 46
It was spring outside Elizabeth's office windows. The lawns at Project headquarters were turning green. The flowerbeds bloomed with new life and color. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day for leaving your desk and sitting somewhere in the sunshine. For Elizabeth, a day like that was right up there with one of Samuel Coleridge's opium dreams. The team was assembled in her office.
"We have a new mission," Elizabeth said. "Steph?"
Stephanie wore a light blue shirt that hung loose over black slacks. Elizabeth thought she might be putting on a little weight, but her clothes hid it well. As she often did, she'd chosen large gold earrings. A half dozen gold bracelets circled her left wrist. Her fingernails were painted a shade of blood red that matched her lipstick.
"Gutenberg sent a long email to Krivi Dass. He's called a face-to-face meeting of AEON's leaders."
"Where?" Nick asked.
"A villa in Normandy, near Caen. Gutenberg owns a boutique vineyard there. It produces only a few hundred bottles a year. Very high-end."
"What do you have in mind?" Nick said.
"It's time we ended this," Elizabeth said. "I want you to go to that villa and put AEON out of business, once and for all."
"You want us to kill them?" Selena said. "I thought we were the good guys."
"And they're the bad guys," Nick said. "They've started wars that caused the deaths of millions of people. They killed Adam. Those people we saw dying in Brazil, that's their doing. They gave up any rights to fair treatment a long time ago."
"I didn't say kill them." Elizabeth looked at Selena. "You can try and take them alive. We need to know where the rest of those plague samples are. We need to know what else they've planned, who they've corrupted."
"Director, you really think we can take them alive?" Ronnie asked.
Harker shrugged. "As I said, you can try. There are no rules of engagement if they resist."
Selena's expression showed her disapproval but she said nothing.
"These are important men, public figures," Nick said. "You know they'll resist. People are going to ask a lot of questions if they disappear. They'll have trained pros for bodyguards, probably ex special forces. We go after them at that villa, it's going to get noisy, fast. If we kill any of them, half the police forces in the world will be after us."
"Then you better hadn't get caught," Elizabeth said. "This one is completely off the books. No backup, no extraction. The president will not know about this mission. For this one you don't exist."
"It's not like it's the first time," Lamont muttered.
"I don't think you need to worry about noise," Stephanie said. "I searched through our satellite archives and found pictures of the villa. It's isolated. The house is surrounded by thick hedges on three sides. You could set off a bomb in there and no one would hear it."
"Inside, maybe," Nick said. "Sound carries a long way in the country. Let's see the pictures."
Stephanie clicked her mouse and a satellite photograph of the villa and grounds appeared on the wall monitor. The house was large with a slate roof. A high stone wall with a gate ran across the front of the property along the main road. A long, white gravel drive led straight and flat from the road to the house. Behind the house was a field with rows of grapevines laid out in a neat grid. There were several outbuildings scattered around the villa and another, larger building in back. A tractor was parked next to it.
"What's that building in the back?" Nick asked.
"It's where they crush the grapes," Stephanie said. "You can see an access road from the vineyard that goes right to it."
"The little old winemaker," Lamont said. "Makes me glad I drink beer, if guys like Gutenberg are the ones who make the wine."
"Pretty easy to figure out you drink beer," Ronnie said. "You really gotta work on that gut you're getting."
Harker cleared her throat, loudly. "Focus, please."
"We'll need the jet," Nick said. "Diplomatic papers to get our gear through customs. We can fly into Caen and drive from there. Steph, can you get us a floor plan?"
"I'll search the city archives at Caen. There might be something there. "
"It's not a good idea to go in there blind. That's a big house. It's going to have a lot of rooms."
"I'll task infrared surveillance on the villa," Elizabeth said. "It will tell us how many people are inside and where they are. The Pentagon has upgraded most of the satellite cameras with new technology. It almost makes the roof and walls invisible."
Nick nodded his head. "That will help a lot."
"What are we taking?" Ronnie asked.
"It's a straightforward mission, in and out. The usual stuff. Vests, MP-5s, with silencers. Flash bangs, night vision gear. Comm gear."
"C4?"
"No, but take grenades."
"Frags or offensive?"
"Both."
"Aren't all grenades offensive?" Selena asked. "I mean, it's not exactly a defensive weapon."
"Those are two different types," Ronnie said. "Frag grenades send shrapnel everywhere. Offensive grenades are small bombs with a five second fuse. They're good inside a bunker or a building."
"How do you tell them apart?"
"You're familiar with the frag type. The offensive grenades look like a shaving cream can. They're marked so you know what they are."
"Oh, that's helpful," Selena said.
CHAPTER 47
In Moscow, late snow had buried the promise of spring. No one was surprised. It was always too cold or too hot in Moscow, too wet or too dry. The one thing you could count on was that whatever kind of day it was could change at any moment.
That was as true for Alexei Vysotsky as it was for the weather.
Vysotsky stood at parade rest in front of the desk of the Director of SVR, Boris Vishinski. Vishinski sat in a brown, high back leather chair, studying Vysotsky's report on the interrogation of Konstantine Kamarov. Vishinski had total control of the largest intelligence network in the world. It made him the most dangerous man in Russia.
Standing behind Vishinski was a tall, hawk faced man in civilian clothes. General Kiril Golovkin was head of the GRU, Russian Military Intelligence. Vysotsky had worked with him often and knew him well. He was intelligent and ruthless, a nationalist and a patriot. He wore a patch over his left eye, a gift of the Chechen separatists.
Vysotsky had taken a chance coming here. If Vishinski was part of the plot, Alexei knew he'd be dead by nightfall.
"Where is Kamarov now, General?"
"In a private medical facility where no one will find him," Vysotsky said. "I thought it best to keep him alive for trial and further interrogation."
Vishinski nodded. "Your report says his nephew arranged the attack on the train and the assassination of your men. Have you arrested him?"
"No, sir. That is for you to decide. Without his uncle to give him directions, I feel he can do little damage. I thought he should be left in place until you decide what to do."
"What do you think we should do?" Golovkin asked.
Vysotsky didn't hesitate. "He is a traitor to the motherland. He should be interrogated and shot."
"Sometimes you are so very old-school," Vishinski said. "It's one of the things I appreciate about you, General. In this case you are absolutely right."
Vysotsky felt himself relax, just a little.
"Stand at ease, General. You are making me nervous."
"Sir." He allowed himself to stand easy.
"You have displayed considerable initiative in this matter. It must have been rather confrontational for you, no?"
"Sir?"
"I'm talking about risk. You took a great personal risk in going after Kamarov like that. Why did you do it?"
"Konstantine Kamarov is a pig, feeding on the spoils of our nation. If I'd tried to go through channels and accused him, he would have made sure the accusation turned back on me. I'd be pictured as someone angling for his nephew's job, someone jealous of Kamarov's success and wealth."
"That thought had occurred to me as I was reading your report," Vishinski said. "I understand your caution. But it still does not explain your actions."
"He is responsible for the deaths of my men. That alone would be reason enough for me. He's a traitor. He had to be brought down, one way or another."
Golovkin nodded once, in agreement.
"Take a team and arrest Vladimir Kamarov immediately," Vishinski said. "As of now, you are the new deputy director."
"Thank you, sir."
"You will retain command of Zaslon."
"Sir."
"Put together a plan for elimination of this group, AEON. Subject to my approval, you will put it into effect," Vishinsky said. "I will want daily progress reports but nothing in writing. Make sure nothing leads back to us. The names in this report are too important. The British Chancellor of the Exchequer and the French Foreign Minister, for starters. It's unbelievable. There's even a U.S. Senator."
"It explains a lot, doesn't it?" Vysotsky said.
"How do you mean?"
"The sanctions, the propaganda, the false accusations of atrocities while they secretly create crisis after crisis. All designed to turn world opinion against us. These men in AEON have been manipulating events for years. They are driving us to war."
"All the more reason we must stop them," Golovkin said.
"The world will be destroyed if there is war," Vysotsky said.
"Yes," Vishinski said. "So you had better get to work."
CHAPTER 48
The mission was a go.
They landed in France in the late afternoon. Their diplomatic papers took them through customs without trouble or an inspection that would have turned up the arsenal they'd brought with them. They rented a nondescript van and loaded an aluminum trunk holding their gear into the back. Gutenberg's wine country retreat was about an hour from the Caen airport. Selena drove. Her fluent French would smooth things if there were any problems along the way.
"I always wanted to come here," Nick said. "We're close to the beaches where the Brits and Canadians landed on D-Day. They thought they'd take Caen on the first day but the Germans had other ideas. It took two months before the battle was over."
"Wasn't the city almost destroyed?" Selena asked.
"Yep. Like most of the towns and cities in Normandy. You really have to hand it to the men who fought here. House to house fighting, with German machine guns around every corner."
"Like Fallujah," Ronnie said.
Nick nodded. "Like that, except in Iraq they had AKs instead of MG-42s."
Germany had issued massive numbers of MG-42 machine guns to its troops in World War II. Wehrmacht small unit tactics had been built around the deadly guns. By contrast, few soldiers in the Allied armies carried automatic weapons back then, a logistical decision that cost many lives. Seventy some years later, Fallujah rolled around and everyone and his brother had automatic weapons. Nick and Ronnie had seen heavy fighting there. It had been hell on earth.
They passed a World War II cemetery where hundreds of white markers marched in neat rows across a manicured green lawn. The setting sun threw a soft, rose glow over the silent stones.
"Peaceful," Nick said as they drove past.
"Arlington's the same way," Lamont said.
"I think it's sad," Selena said.
"War is sad," Nick said.
No one said anything else for the next forty minutes.
Nick looked at his GPS. "We're getting close. Take the next left."
Selena turned onto a narrow country lane. Thick hedges lined the road on either side. Infrequent breaks in the shrubbery revealed fields lined with more hedges and an occasional farmhouse.
"Coming up on the right," Nick said. "Slow down a little."
The hedge gave way to a high stone wall that ran along the road for a hundred yards. A double gate of black iron stood closed at the entrance to the drive. The wall was high. The only view they got of the house was through the gate as they went by. There was time to see that the house was solid and large, two stories of stone with a gray slate roof. Then they were past.
"Cars parked in front of the house," Lamont said.
"Somebody's home," Ronnie said.
They passed the end of the wall. A tight row of tall hedges formed a right angle with the wall, going back toward the rear of the property. They crossed a short bridge over an irrigation canal filled with muddy water. The canal paralleled the hedges.
"Looks like the meeting is on. I'd better check in with Harker."
Nick activated his comm link.
"About time, Nick. What's your status?"
Harker's voice sounded tinny over the satellite relay.
"We've just passed the objective and are about to pull off the road."
He pointed at a dirt track that went from the road into a freshly plowed field. Selena drove onto the track and followed it to a copse of trees a hundred feet from the road. She pulled in under the trees and shut down the engine. From the road, it would be difficult to see them. They couldn't be seen at all from the villa.
"We're in a farmer's field near the objective," Nick said to Elizabeth. "Any updates for me?"
"Negative. Gutenberg got an email from Thorvaldson saying he'd be late, after eight."
"We won't be going in before then. So they'll all be there?"
"It looks that way," Elizabeth said.
"You sound like you're not sure."
"I don't know, Nick. This seems too pat, all of them in one place. Something doesn't feel right."
"Is that your intuition talking, Director?"
"These people are paranoid about security. Why are they meeting at that farmhouse, instead of Gutenberg's chalet or someplace secure?"
"Now you mention it, I had the same thought," Nick said. "But we have Gutenberg's emails. He couldn't know we're monitoring him."
"Just the same, be careful going in there."
"Have you got the infrared up?"
"Not yet. The satellite won't be in position for another hour and a half. Stephanie will relay it to you as soon as it comes online."
"Anything else?"
"No. Keep your head down," Elizabeth said.
"Copy that," Nick said.
CHAPTER 49
The team was all but invisible in their dark gear. The only light came from a half moon that shed a faint, silver glow on the freshly turned earth of the fields. They crossed to the irrigation ditch that ran along the side of Gutenberg's property. The ditch was three feet wide. A short jump to the other side brought them up against the hedges that bordered the villa. Ronnie took a pair of heavy brush clippers from his bag of tricks and began working on the thick shrubbery.
"Stuff is like iron," he said under his breath. His voice was an electronic whisper in their ears. "Give me a couple of minutes."
It took five. Ronnie stepped back and Nick peered through the opening. Several windows in the villa showed light, all on the ground floor. The upstairs was dark. Curtains drawn over the windows made it impossible to see who or what was inside. Nick toggled the comm link to Harker.
"Where's that infrared?"
he said when she came online.
"There's a big solar flare causing interference. I can't get a clear signal. Satellite visual is out also."
Nick stuffed the urge to swear at her.
"All right. We're about to go in. Keep the line open."
"Copy that. Good luck."
They'd all heard Elizabeth.
"How you want to do it?" Lamont said.
"The upstairs is dark. I'm thinking we could climb up onto the gallery and get in from there. We go in on the ground floor, they'll know we're there right away."
"Are we going to try and take them alive?" Selena asked.
"If we can," Nick said, "but it might not be possible. There have to be guards. Once they see us, they'll start shooting and all bets are off. We get into the house, toss flash bangs as soon as we see someone and clear the rooms. Shoot anyone who's armed. Don't hesitate. You hesitate, that's when someone will kill you."
"I know," she said. "You've told me often enough."
"Then I don't have to tell you again."
Selena started to say something and thought better of it.
"Seems odd there aren't any sentries," Lamont said. "You'd think they'd have some kind of perimeter lighting, at least."
"Yeah, you would," Nick said. "It bothers me too. It could be they don't want to draw any attention. Bright lights out here in the French countryside, someone would be sure to notice."
"Maybe," Lamont said.
"There could be ground sensors," Selena said.
"If there are sensors, there's nothing we can do about it," Nick said. "They'll send someone out of the house if we trigger an alarm. They might come out shooting."
Nick's ear began to itch. He tugged on it.
"I don't like this much," Ronnie said. "You're messing with your ear and we've got no Intel on what's inside that house."
Selena squatted next to Nick. "I don't like it either. Elizabeth is uneasy about this and so am I. Like Lamont said, why aren't there lights? Why aren't there sentries? These are powerful men, they wouldn't go anywhere without lots of security. Something's wrong."
