“Perhaps they wanted to use him to transmit a message. We’ve seen that plenty of times with ISIS,” Randall said.
“But this isn’t making sense,” Alexa spoke up, pulling her gaze away from Jake’s back and shifting, so her face was fully in front of the screen. “There has never been any connection between ISIS and Anarchy. Anarchy has funneled money to anti-Western militant groups, but never once to ISIS. In fact, they have denounced ISIS’s actions in the past. Anarchy only supports attacks against Americans and the British. And they’re not motivated by religious fundamentalist ideas.”
“They’ve given money to Al Qaeda before,” Xander noted.
“But that’s only to support efforts to rid Americans and British from Afghanistan and Pakistan. They have never shown any interest in anything related to Syria or Iraq,” Alexa said.
“Well, it looks like they’ve started. We have intel suggesting that Anarchy took Agent Summers. If he was taken from Sicily while on an OP to kill an ISIS leader, we have to assume there is a connection between ISIS and Anarchy now,” Laney said.
Alexa had been studying the group for the last fifteen months, and there was nothing to indicate that Bekas would support ISIS. It was completely outside his MO. “With all due respect, I have to disagree.” Alexa straightened her spine and faced Trent, hoping Laney wouldn’t cut her off. “How’d you know Ansari would be in Libya? Where’d you get your intel?”
“What are you saying, Alexa?” Laney’s voice echoed through the laptop speakers.
Alexa waited to see if Trent would answer the question before she directed her attention back to Laney.
“NSA intercepted several emails relating to Ansari and his whereabouts. We followed up and verified that Ansari was really there, and then we pushed for the go-ahead to send in a team,” Trent said.
“Do you think we could have a look at the messages?” Alexa’s eyes met Xander’s, and she could see the acknowledgment in them—he saw where this was going.
“I’ll see what I can do, but why?”
“Alexa, are you suggesting Anarchy was behind this?” Laney asked.
Alexa released a breath. “I think that is more likely than Anarchy being affiliated with ISIS.” Her hands landed on her hips as she confronted her boss. “I know Bekas, ma’am. And I know this wasn’t a coincidence. If Anarchy took Jake from Italy, then they were the ones who made sure he was there in the first place. Maybe not him, specifically, but they wanted an American agent.”
“So, you’re saying the messages we intercepted were planted by this cyber terrorist group?” Randall scrubbed a hand down his jaw, his voice echoing an edge of disbelief.
“She might be right,” Xander said. “They dangled some forbidden fruit in front of you all—Ansari—knowing you’d take the bait.”
“I’ll talk to the Director of the NSA,” Laney said. “I know him. I’ll get those messages.”
“And what will that prove? If this group lured our men there, we already know why, right?” Randall asked.
“I’m betting not,” Alexa was quick to respond, “because anytime Anarchy does something, it’s never as it seems.”
“Fine.” Trent exhaled. “I’ll look into Anarchy, as well. But I’m not as familiar with the group—would you give me a quick rundown?”
Alexa’s stomach lurched. She looked over at Jake, and a harsh pain crawled up her spine. She felt so sorry for him. And for all the people he’d lost that he couldn’t even remember.
“Three years ago, there was an American and British joint OP to take out a leader of Al Qaeda,” Laney began after a moment. “He was a couple of kilometers outside Kabul in an area deemed relatively safe from civilians, but the building was close to another home.”
Laney switched the screen to show her computer instead of the conference room. A picture of Kemal Bekas displayed in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. Although she’d never met him, she knew his olive skin, jet black hair, and piercing blackish-brown eyes by heart. “Government officials gave the go-ahead for a drone strike, ruling that the neighboring home was empty.”
Images of the aftermath of the drone strike were displayed on the screen—a decimated home where the al Qaeda leader and his men had been. A hundred meters behind the house was debris—a child’s doll and suitcases scattered about.
“I remember this,” Trent murmured.
“Kemal Bekas’s wife and twin eight-year-old daughters had just arrived at the home near the targets a moment before the drone took out the Al Qaeda leader. Bekas has Kurdish and Turkish backgrounds, as well as English. But his wife was Afghan and English. She was visiting family in Afghanistan on holiday.” Laney switched over to a screen showing the Bekas Tech Tower in Istanbul. “Bekas is a wealthy businessman. His headquarters were in London, as he held British citizenship. But after the loss of his family, he demanded answers for what had happened to his family. Answers we couldn’t give him.” Laney’s face was back on screen now.
“So what happened?” Trent asked.
Jake’s back was still to everyone, his shoulders hunched forward, one hand now covering his face.
“He moved his company to Istanbul two years ago since he had Turkish citizenship from his father. Then, a few months after that, we began noticing unusual activity surrounding Bekas. We had decided to keep an eye on him after he threatened our government. We’re pretty sure he created the group as a means of retribution. He wants vengeance against us and you guys for what happened to his family.”
Laney removed her glasses and clasped them in her hands in front of her stomach as she stood in front of the long, oval table. The men beside her had yet to speak, and Alexa wondered what their purpose was in this. Were they just watch dogs there to ensure that no one said too much?
“Drone strike, huh?” Trent looked down at the floor for a moment, and everyone remained quiet for a minute.
“They say for every drone strike we use to take someone out, we get fifty new enemies as a result,” Randall said.
Alexa couldn’t agree more. She’d never been an advocate for the use of drone attacks unless absolutely necessary.
“Just curious, but why the name? Why ‘at-Anarchy’? I’d expect something a bit more focused on hating Western civilization.” Randall looked at the computer screen, and then over at Alexa and Xander.
“He only has two people in his inner circle. A Russian businessman and a wealthy Frenchman. Most of his followers are in their twenties. They’re from all over the world, and they’re looking to create trouble and make money. I doubt they even know Bekas’s true motives. We think he used this hacker group and the name to recruit young hackers to do his bidding and uses the organization as a front for what he really wants,” Alexa explained.
“And what do you think the ultimate goal is?” Trent asked.
Alexa raised her shoulders. “If you became mentally unstable and sickened by grief after you lost your wife and daughters, what would you do?”
“So tell me something. If you know this Bekas guy is the head of a terrorist organization, why aren’t you arresting him? Hell, why aren’t you murdering him?” Jake suddenly asked, facing them.
Xander looked over at Jake. “This is the real world. We can’t simply go and murder people, especially a millionaire businessman. Bekas is unlike any terrorist we’ve faced recently. He hides in plain sight behind this network of hackers, and we still haven’t directly connected him to any of the crimes committed by Anarchy. It’s not that easy to arrest someone, or even kill them, in friendly territory. We need to catch him with his hand on the trigger, so to speak.”
Jake glanced up at the ceiling, and Alexa didn’t envy the man. How was he was expected to exist—to thrive—in a world that he had no clue about?
“I suggest we work together,” Xander said when Jake remained silent. Of course, they didn’t have a choice, did they?
Alexa glanced at Laney as she pulled her chair out and sat down.
“I’ll have to ta
lk to my people in D.C.” Trent thrust a hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile.
“Fine,” Laney noted. “For now, Alexa, Xander, you can come back here. Unless you think—”
“No.” Jake spun around, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. His eyes went straight to Alexa, and she couldn’t break his hold. “Alexa stays.”
“And you think you get to make the orders because . . .?” Xander approached him, angling his head to the side as he peered at Jake with narrowed eyes.
Jake released a lungful of air and looked over Xander’s shoulder at the others. “I’m beginning to remember things, and I think Alexa is why.” Jake maneuvered around Xander and stood in front of Trent and Randall.
“Shit, Jake. What do you remember? Why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?” Trent lowered the phone.
“You should have bloody led with that,” Laney said.
“I was planning to say something, and then you guys began talking about all this intense shit.” Jake gripped the back of the kitchen chair as if he needed it for support. Maybe he did.
“And what do you remember, Agent Summers?” Laney asked.
“I’ve been remembering moments from my time in the military, so yesterday when something came to my mind I thought it was related to that. But then again this morning it was clearer. And after this meeting, I realized my memory is from the ambush in Sicily.”
Nervous anticipation spiraled through Alexa.
Jake shut his eyes as if he were trying to drag the memory to his mind. “I remember the SUV in front of me exploding. Right before my vehicle flipped, the driver was shot straight through the neck. Me and another guy tried to get out once the SUV was on its side, but we were trapped. I scrambled to get my sidearm, but—” He opened his eyes. “Shit, that’s all I can remember.”
“Not what anyone looks like or . . .” Xander pressed.
“No, but there’s something else.” Jake sucked in a breath, and then released the air through his nose. “I don’t know what the men looked like who tortured me, but I remember being beaten, and I remember seeing something. There were maybe a half a dozen vests lying on a bed in the room, all weighted down with explosives and wires.”
“Suicide vests? In my Goddamn city?” Laney was back on her feet and reaching for her mobile.
Jake came around in front of the camera to look at Laney. “Ma’am, I’m sorry I don’t remember more. Believe me, I want to stop these assholes who killed my teammates—even if I can’t remember the names of the fallen men. But I can feel it . . . the memories. They’re there.” He tapped at the side of his head. “I just can’t seem to access them, yet.” Jake looked over his shoulder at Alexa. “But I think Alexa can help me get them back.”
“And why the hell would she be able to do that?” Trent asked.
“Because we know each other,” Alexa answered for him.
“Come again?” Trent angled his head and moved around Jake to confront Alexa.
She remained firm in her wide stance, refusing his attempt to intimidate her. “We met at a party a year ago,” she told Trent.
“And I think being around her is helping trigger my memories. So, you see, I need her.” Jake held his hands in front of him, palms up as if he were pleading for a handout. “I think being around anything familiar from the last ten years of my life will help.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I want to be a part of the team. I want to be on the OP that brings down the sons of bitches who killed my partners,” he gruffly said.
“Hell, no. You’re still in pain. You were in a damn explosion and tortured. You can’t be running around Europe.” Trent folded his arms, shaking his head.
“It might be a good idea.” Xander looked at Laney. “Whoever had him thinks he’s dead. No one will be looking for him. And maybe if he’s part of the OP, it will help him remember something important. It might help us bring these motherfuckers down.”
Alexa was surprised by Jake’s sudden willingness to help. He’d been resistant to the idea yesterday. Maybe learning he was the sole survivor of his OP had changed his mind. Or maybe he was becoming the man he had once been as he slowly regained his memories.
Maybe he had even remembered more of their time together. She didn’t think he’d ever want to see her again after last night, but now he was asking for her to stay with him. Something had changed, at least.
“I need time to think about this,” Trent said.
“Me too,” Laney echoed. “Alexa. Xander. Call me when you leave the house and hold off on booking your flights for now. I’ll be in touch.”
The transmission ended.
“I, um . . .” Alexa tugged her lip between her teeth as she studied the room full of men. “I need some air.” She darted out of the kitchen and went straight out the front door, not taking time to grab her jacket.
She glanced at the agents in the parked car and wrapped her arms around her, hugging herself as she walked to the left side of the front porch. It was still snowing. Fat flakes fell from the sky, splattering the white-coated terrain. She was freezing, but the numbness exhilarated her.
“Alexa.”
She looked over as Jake came out of the house with her jacket in hand. He shut the door behind him and slowly approached her, offering her jacket even though he hadn’t bothered to grab his own.
“Thanks.” She took it from him and pulled it on.
“I thought you hated me,” she said. He came up next to her and rested his wrists on the railing, leaning forward as he looked off in the distance.
“How could I hate someone I barely know?”
“Do you really think I can help you get your memories back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He pushed off the railing and cupped the back of his neck as she faced him. “I don’t know if I still want to be an agent when this is all over, but I do know I can’t live with myself if I don’t try and help. I may not remember the man I became, but I’ll damned sure try. There’s no way I can stand back and let people die when there’s a chance that I can help. And I want justice for the other men on my team who didn’t survive . . .”
She knew how he felt. She wasn’t prepared to tell him why or how she knew, but she hurt for him. And she needed him to know that. “Jake, you don’t need to be alone in this.” She rested a hand on his forearm and realized that the material of his shirt was already chilled from the icy cold.
“I don’t?” He raised his brows as his eyes found hers.
“I came here so you could help me.” She lifted her shoulders in embarrassment as she heard the echo of her words. “I mean, help the case. But if I can help you—”
“You know,” he interrupted, taking a step back. “I don’t have a wife or daughters, but like you said in there—if someone hurt my family, I don’t know if I’d snap, too, like this Bekas guy.”
“You would never hurt innocent people.”
“No, maybe not, but I’d sure as hell kill whoever was responsible.” He gritted his teeth and looked down. “And you know what scares me?”
“What?”
“That wasn’t who I was twelve years ago. I wasn’t a killer. Hell, I’d catch a spider in my house and let it free outside instead of squashing it.” He turned from her. “And now I’m a man who wouldn’t think twice about murder. I’m not sure if I like being this guy, but I feel him inside me . . . and he’s clawing his way out.”
She reached for his arm, trying to turn him. “There is a big difference between you and Bekas. If you’ve killed in your past, it was to save others. And I’m sure the military and FBI changed you.” He faced her now, his eyes growing darker, his breathing heavier. “How could it not?” Her fingers still rested on his arm, trembling slightly as emotions coursed through her. “I don’t know the man you were twelve years ago, but I know the kind of guy you were last year.”
“Oh yeah?” He took a step closer to her, and she lowered her hand. He angled his head, his eyes dipping to her mouth for a mo
ment.
Was he remembering their kiss? Their kisses?
“You were incredibly funny and charming. There was nothing hard about you—well, other than . . . um, your body.” Her cheeks warmed as Jake’s gaze slid back up to her eyes. “Shit, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“I take it we did a lot more than kiss last year.”
Before Alexa could respond, she looked over Jake’s shoulder to see Xander and the FBI agents coming out onto the porch.
“You ready to go?” Xander asked as he put on his coat.
“We’ll be at the hotel, Jake. I’ll call you later tonight or in the morning,” Trent said as Randall went ahead to their SUV.
“Sure.” Jake shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, pulling his shoulders forward a little from the cold.
“I don’t think you’re physically or mentally ready to go out into the field,” Trent said in a low voice. “But if I get approval, then I won’t stop you if that’s really what you want.”
Jake only nodded at Trent before he left.
Xander was still standing a few feet away. He was waiting for her, but she couldn’t seem to make herself leave.
“You going to be okay?” Alexa asked Jake.
“I’ll be fine,” he finally answered before turning away from her and walking with slow steps into the house.
Chapter Thirteen
“You came back. Why?” Jake stood on the other side of the door, staring at her with parted lips as she held a white bag with red Chinese symbols on it, and clutched a DVD with the other hand.
The sky was a dark blue. The snow had finally let up, and now there were only stars in the sky, the twinkling lights moving about as if they were on the ends of puppet strings.
“Things are about to get real tomorrow. If MI6 and the FBI agree to let you on the case, we’ll be diving head-first into a shit storm. I thought maybe you and I could use a bit of normalcy before all of that.” She smiled.
He stepped back, allowing her entry from the cold. “Normalcy? I think my life will never be normal.”
Surviving the Fall (Hidden Truths Book 4) Page 11
