GrayNet

by D S Kane

  “Okay, Lee, I’ll set it up. Wing out.”

  Lee told Ann about the change.

  When they reached the school, Ann hugged Lee. “Bye. See you tonight.” As she slipped from the SUV and walked up the stairs, she saw—reflected in the glass panel of the door—a rotund, swarthy, older man watching her. She turned and took a good look at him but kept moving. Ann had never seen him before, and suddenly remembered Cassie’s stories about the Middle Eastern terrorists who had tried many times to kill her. She gulped in fear and looked for Lee in the SUV but he’d turned the corner and was speeding on his way back to work. Oh, well, she thought, I’m just jittery. It’s nothing. I’m profiling. Very bad. She headed to her history class on the second floor of the school building.

  * * *

  Achmed Houmaz had landed at Reagan Airport an hour before dawn, rented a car, and checked himself into a cheap hotel in downtown Washington where he’d done some research at its embedded Internet café. It had only taken him a few hours to find out not just where they lived but so much more.

  When Lee drove Ann to school, he’d followed them. He’d watched from the fence at the schoolyard for the entire day, except when he’d followed them to the gun club. Houmaz looked at his wristwatch. Just after 3:30 p.m. He’d called the school and knew that classes ended at 3:45. Any minute now.

  Houmaz stood behind the fence that contained the schoolyard and waited. He thought of the innocent schoolgirl, dressed in the uniform worn by all students at this expensive private school. Soon I’ll have her, he thought. And once I do, I can get Sashakovich to come to me. He’d barter to trade the teen for her mother, but kill both. And, he’d wait outside the schoolyard fence until she left. Then, he could have her. Maybe he’d have some fun while he waited for the girl’s mother to surrender to him.

  * * *

  As she exited the building, Ann saw the stranger again. Oh, shit! On impulse, Ann moved into the group of classmates who were her friends. Safety in numbers; he won’t dare try doing something to me when I’m surrounded by my friends. Or will he? “Let’s go to the mall.”

  Susan faced her. “Why?”

  Ann needed to invent an excuse, “I think there’s a neat clothing sale. Wanna go?”

  Mary smiled. “Sure. We don’t have that much homework tonight.”

  Julie shrugged. “What the hell. Anything to avoid being with my mom.”

  Off they went, the four of them walking the three blocks to the Georgetown Park Shopping Mall. Every minute or so Ann scanned the streetside store windows looking for the man’s reflection. He’s following me! She could tell that he wasn’t familiar with surveillance, something Lee had demonstrated and practiced with her. The man stayed just fifty feet back, stuck to her like glue. Rats! Well, now at least I know for sure.

  * * *

  Sitting in the Hybrid Toyota Highlander, Sylvia Orley looked for Ann as the students emerged from the school.

  But Sylvia wasn’t familiar with surveillance techniques. She was a mercenary, not a spy. Bored and listening to the radio, she never saw Ann moving away.

  After ten minutes of waiting, Sylvia became anxious as the crowd of students thinned and left the grounds. When no more left the building, she whispered, “Damn!” and headed into the building to search for Ann. As she walked, she dialed Ann’s cell phone, but, her cell’s battery failed. Double damn.

  * * *

  Blocks away, Ann suspected the worst. Once within the crowded halls of the Georgetown Park Shopping Mall, she looked behind her and saw him staring at her, standing outside one of the stores. Ann said to her friends, “I need to use the restroom. Would you all wait a few minutes for me?”

  Julie said, “Uh huh. But be quick. We have to get home before our ‘handlers’ start worrying.”

  Ann entered the women’s room. She knew her friends lived too far away from her house to walk her home, and even if they did, the man might try to do something to her anyway when they neared her house. She scanned the restroom, looking for another way out. There weren’t any windows. She pulled out her cell phone and called Lee’s cell phone. “It’s Ann. There’s someone following me since I left school. Could this have something to do with Cassie’s trouble? I know you’ll say I’m profiling, but he’s got olive-colored skin.”

  “Shit. Maybe it does. Can’t be too sure. What happened to Sylvia Orley? Didn’t you meet her as you left the school?”

  She was almost crying. “I panicked. Sorry. I never saw her.”

  “Where are you?”

  She tried to focus. “I had some of my friends come with me to the mall near the school but he’s still out there. I’m in the women’s restroom. What should I do?”

  “Lemme think for a second. Are your friends still out there?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Okay then. I’ll be there soon. Give me your exact location.”

  “Restroom is on the right side at the east entrance, across from J. Crew’s.”

  “Okay. Will your friends wait for ten minutes while I get there?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Hmm. Okay. In that case, go to the doorway and ask one of them for a favor. Ask her to buy you some stuff as fast as she can. Ask the others to wait until she returns because you have a surprise for them. Send your friend to buy these items…”

  * * *

  Cassie felt her heart beat accelerating. She watched the Maryland shoreline from the periscope. She could hear Rogov at the communications link and waited for him to tell her their status. She sighed. So close now.

  Rogov said, “We’re less than an hour out of Baltimore Harbor, Sashakovich. I have Shimmel on the line.”

  She felt relief. At last, she felt near her home and family. And yet, she was frustrated they weren’t with her. “Thanks, Ivan.” She held out her hand for the phone. “Avram, did you get McTavish’s report?”

  “Yes. It’s worse that we thought. It didn’t go well in Riyadh. My team rendered Maru and left sufficient clues for the Yakuza. They’re pissed off to the nines. But McTavish’s team failed. They were lucky to leave Saudi Arabia intact, but they left Houmaz alive. Worse yet, Ainsley just called me and said Ann saw a man that might fit his description following her from school. Lee is on his way to meet her, and we can only pray that he reaches her before Houmaz does.”

  Cassie almost dropped the receiver. “Oh, shit. He put it all together. And now he’s here.”

  “I warned you things might spin out of control. How far from the harbor are you?”

  “Ten minutes away. What do you think we should do?”

  “I’m working on a plan. A simple one. But it has risks that you, Ann, and Lee will have to face. Listen carefully now. First, have the sub you are on dock in Baltimore harbor at pier number 4. I have very quietly arranged permission for that from the Harbor Master. We’ll have the other sub request permission to dock right away, as planned in Boston Harbor. We’ll make their request very public. It should take them about an hour. Then…”

  * * *

  William Wing sat in the kitchen of Cassie’s house eating a Dagwood sandwich when his cell phone chimed with an incoming email. He took a brief look at the note from Shimmel and bolted from the kitchen table, carrying his phone and leaving his half-eaten lunch behind. His instructions were concise and specific. It took him mere seconds to run up the stairs to the guest room where he’d left the notebook. A morose Sylvia Orley sat at the desk in fatigues, having returned from the school. She was keying email into the computer. “Sorry, Syl, I need this machine right now. More powerful than the phone.” He almost pulled her away. She left her seat, cursing him in French.

  Wing keyed the name of the website into the address bar on an Internet screen and pressed the Enter key. “Come on, you slow bastard. Come on up.” Over his shoulder, Sylvia watched, wondering what was so damned important.

  * * *

  Ann stood with her back against the door to the women’s room. She took a deep breath and cracked open the door.
Lee had told her the man’s name. Achmed Houmaz waited patiently across the hallway, appearing to look into a store window. But he continued to turn his head toward the women’s restroom every few seconds. She wiped her palms on her jacket. Shit.

  She motioned mischievously to Julie and her friend entered the bathroom. “Thanks, Julie,” said Ann. “I need you to help me. Please. Buy me these. Please?” She handed Julie a note and some cash. When you have the stuff, get the others to all come in here with you. I want to do something outrageous. I would have done this for Halloween, but I didn’t have the guts then,”

  Julie nodded and then disappeared. About fifteen minutes later, all her friends gathered around her in the restroom.

  Ann pulled items from the bag. “I want to totally change what I look like and if this isn’t okay with my parents, it’ll be too late for them to change it back. This will be way past extreme. They’ll probably just have me re-dye my hair back to its normal mousey color.”

  Julie, Susan, and Mary watched Ann remove the scissors from the bag Julie had brought her, then cut her hair into an extremely short and ragged crew cut. She opened the bag of items again and pulled out the bottle of bright green hair dye. After coloring her hair in the bathroom sink and tossing the leftover hair dye, Ann removed several pieces of clothing from the bag. She removed the tags and then stripped off her clothes. She donned a set of blue jeans and a black zippered hoodie sweatshirt that proclaimed “MY LIFE SUCKS—Doesn’t Yours?’” Ann applied heavy black mascara to her left eye and red mascara to her right one. Then she put on purple lipstick. Faced them, smiled and stuck her tongue out. “How’s this?”

  Susan said, “Uh, Ann, it’s like, way over the top. Your daddy’s gonna kill you. Solid pain from him, guaranteed.”

  “Zackly so,” Julie chimed in.

  Ann shook her head. “No, guys, Lee’s too cool for that. Julie, could you take my school uniform home and return it to me tomorrow? My pretend-dad is on his way here and I want to surprise him.”

  Julie shook her head. “Here? You’re gonna die, Ann.” Julie took the uniform and mumbled something about suicide.

  Ann nodded and stiffened. Fear gripped her. This is it. She really might die.

  Mary said, “Oh God, Ann, it’ll take months for your hair to grow back.”

  Ann thought, if I live that long. “Do me one more favor, guys. Let me leave first. I don’t want him to blame you guys. So, give me a minute and then come out. Okay?” She pointed to her wristwatch.

  The girls all nodded, and Ann turned away, quickly using her cell phone to make a call. She whispered, “I’m ready right now, green hair, crew cut, jeans, and a black hoodie stating that my life sucks. By the way, it really does. You ready?”

  Lee stood at the back of the SUV, its gate opened, in the mall’s parking lot. He’d donned a woman’s overcoat and wig, placed a woman’s hat on his head atop it. He wrapped a red scarf halfway up his face to cover his hair, and slammed the gate shut. As he ran through the parking lot to the mall entrance, he began buttoning up the coat with one hand, holding the cell phone in the other. “Green hair. Crew cut. Got it. Cassie will kill both of us! I’m at the entrance, now walking in. I’m dressed as a woman, beige overcoat, blue hat, and red scarf. I can see Houmaz and I can see the bathroom entrance. I’m going to sit at the bench next to the restrooms. Find me and grab my arm as if I need help standing. Okay, now we’re set. Go, go, go.”

  * * *

  The 840-ton S-56 submarine surfaced within Baltimore harbor and slowly made its way toward the wharf. Avram Shimmel waved from the pier to Ivan Rogov standing on the bridge. As it closed the distance to him, he said, “You and your men can’t leave the sub until tomorrow night. But as soon as we can get US Immigration to process all of you, you can go and enjoy the best that capitalism has to offer.” He boarded and held out his hand. “I’ve used baksheesh to get you visas. Congratulations on your arrival in America.” Baksheesh, sometimes called pishkesh, meant bribes.

  Six hundred miles away in Boston, the 600-ton S-13 surfaced near the harbor and glided slowly toward its entrance. At the wharf, teams of reporters and television crews stood waiting.

  * * *

  As Lee hoped, to anyone watching, a hooded green-haired wild girl wearing way too much makeup helped her frumpy old grandmother from the mall out into the parking lot. After they reached the exit, Ann and he sprinted to the SUV.

  She was still shaking, but smiled in relief as they ran. “Great outfit, Lee. Ultra-sexy.”

  Lee opened the gate and removed the hat, wig, scarf, and coat, then took out a satchel from the trunk bed area behind the rear seats. He handed the satchel to Ann. “Take this, get in and buckle up.” He motioned his keys to the passenger side door. Ann jumped inside as fast as she could.

  The Hybrid rolled soundlessly through the parking lot, with deliberate lack of speed. “I have what we’ll need in here,” he said, patting the satchel she held.

  “But where—”

  “To the harbor in Baltimore. Cassie called me. Everything’s gonna be fine, Ann.” Lee thought, I hope.

  “Thanks for saving my life, Lee. I was so scared. But I did remember what you taught me. Even though I was scared shitless.” Ann unzipped the satchel. “Wow, this is heavy.” She found altered identification documents for both of them, one Ruger Mini-14 modified for full automatic action, a Beretta 9mm handgun, a Benchmade switchblade, several clips of ammunition, a few computer gadgets, and some candy bars. And, a knapsack filled with men’s and women’s clothing, underwear, and wigs. She offered Lee a candy bar and ate one herself. Chewing the chocolate, she asked, “Lots of woman’s stuff here. Is this yours? You wear this stuff?”

  Lee laughed. “No, it’s Cassie’s and mine. It’s called a “go bag.” We both have them. I just emptied both into hers. She told me to bring them. And, hey, if it would save you, me, or Cassie, I’d dress as a female gorilla in heat.”

  She chuckled. Rummaging through the other bag, her hand brushed against another Beretta. “There’s enough weaponry here for a small war. Was this always in your car?”

  “No. We keep the go bags in lockers at Union Station. That’s why it took me so long to get to you. I had to pick this up, then ride here doing ninety most of the way. This SUV doesn’t ever get stopped—it has the agency’s identifiers all over it. I never returned it after I resigned, and then I hacked the records so now, I own it. There’s no rush now.”

  Ann felt total confusion. She’d been tolerating Lee for a long time, but lately she’d found herself depending on him. Very strange. Almost the way she now felt about Cassie. She tentatively reached across the seat and touched his hand holding the steering wheel. Whispered, “dad.”

  He looked up, his mouth a wide “O.” Then he grinned.

  “I meant it. Thanks for saving my life, uh, dad. Yeah. Dad.”

  She’d said it three times. No thunder broke the sky. But she felt a warm tingling down to her core. Yeah. Dad.

  He looked back at her for just a second. “I love you, too, daughter.”

  CHAPTER 37

  November 6, 4:18 p.m.

  Georgetown Park Shopping Mall,

  3222 M Street, NW

  (at Wisconsin and M Streets),

  Washington, DC

  Achmed Houmaz had dismissed the strange-looking child with short green hair and heavily eye-shadowed face that emerged from the rest room. He almost chuckled as she helped her grandmother from the mall. He kept his eyes riveted on the door and waited. But when Ann’s three companions left the rest room and she didn’t appear, he waited another minute before realizing he’d been made a fool of.

  His face tensed and he mumbled a curse in Arabic, then ran into the parking lot looking for them. He found no one looking like either the young woman in a private school uniform or the strangely dressed girl who’d just left the mall.

  Worse, he thought, this means she’d recognized him. He’d never have another easy chance to fulfill his mission and ear
n vengeance for his family and himself. He shook his head in fury, acknowledging his failure, and left the mall. His head dropped as he paced through the parking lot to his rental car and drove back to the cheap motel.

  * * *

  The late afternoon sun cast long gray shadows on the wharf in Boston where the smaller S-13 sub had surfaced. The captain spoke Russian to his first mate. “Okay Boris, rig the charges and get ready to reply to the harbormaster’s questions. I want communication as soon as possible.”

  Less than a minute passed, before Boris returned and simply nodded his head. The captain then said, “Harbormaster, I am Captain Yuri Sokol of Russian submarine S-13. We are political refugees, seeking sanctuary from Russian mafiya. Please, there are almost sixty of us on board, including some Americans we rescued from murderers in Maui. Make space for us to moor the sub at your wharf.”

  * * *

  Houmaz sat in the dark stillness of his room at the Washington, DC motel. He thought about using the gun he’d brought to the United States in his diplomatic pouch on himself. But he wasn’t ready for death, and looked around wildly for an excuse to live. He turned on the television and watched CNN, looking for fresh news about his disaster in Tokyo. Of course, he found it. Houmaz shook his head. This was never supposed to happen. He sat on the bed, miserable, facing the screen and no longer comprehending what he saw. Outraged, he flexed his fists.

  Almost an hour passed, with sports, weather, and recent politics flying past him. He was jolted back to awareness by a fluff news story. A pretty woman in a blue dress with yellow hair smiled into the camera and said, “Today, something unusual happened at the harbor in Boston. Something that doesn’t happen every day. A World War Two-vintage submarine surfaced late this afternoon.” Houmaz watched the screen show the small sub, floating a hundred feet from the wharf. “They requested permission to dock here, stating that they were fleeing from the Russian mafiya. They claim the sub carries Americans as well as Russians, and that they rescued the Americans from being murdered in Maui. Of course, Department of Homeland Security officials are now up to their necks in paperwork, trying to determine if their claim falls under what we define as a reason to seek sanctuary.”