“I went back to the prologue because something didn’t make sense to me. Early in the prologue, the writer says that Orion’s weapons were indestructible. Later in the prologue they state that Orion crushed many of the duplicate Sumi weapons with his club. How could he do both?”
“Because the writer was talking about the original weapons that the Geek Gods had given him in the beginning,” Loni quickly explained. “Those are all listed in column B.” She pointed to the whiteboard.
“We realized that all the Sumi weapons are devices like Clear, the buzz saw. They were all necessary to harvest trees and protect the Sumi. They are all machines. The original Orion weapons employed natural forces and emotions like Influence, the mind controlling weapon.
“I see,” uttered Banyon.
“That means two things,” Maya added. “First, the Sumi weapons are not indestructible and can be destroyed. And secondly, Fasi can’t jam the original weapons.”
“Don’t you see,” Loni exclaimed excitedly. “We can use those weapons on Fasi and destroy him.”
“That’s great,” Banyon agreed and smiled. “We most certainly will be able to use that information in the future. But I’m voting for option two.” He placed the box he had received from Edgar on the table for them to see and opened it. He took out the object inside. It was two inches long and square. It was made of shiny metal and was affixed to a leather band that could be attached to a wrist. The front contained a clock face on it.
“What is it?” both women asked at once.
“It is a way to collect all of the weapons that Fasi took into the desert without using any of the Orion weapons,” Banyon said.
“Where did that come from?” Maya asked skeptically. “It doesn’t resemble any weapon in the codex.”
“That’s because it is not a weapon designed by the Sumi and doesn’t run on Vril,” he replied knowingly.
“What does it do?” Loni asked.
“It’s our game changer,” Banyon replied.
Part Three
The Pieces
Chapter Nineteen
Ahmed Fasi had not survived for as long as he had without having a good measure of intelligence and cunning like the predator he resembled — the hawk.
He knew the ambush of Colton Banyon and his team would not be accomplished easily, which was why he employed so much backup. He was sure Banyon would have a plan and some deception. He also assumed that one of the mercenaries he hired was working for his enemy.
A contact from the Casablanca airport had notified him that a private plane from a law office in Chicago had landed the night before. But only eight people had gotten off it. Fasi knew that Banyon had nine members on his team. The one missing was probably on his mercenary team. Fasi had done his homework on Colton Banyon.
The caravan of six jeeps left the Arab’s residence at dawn to head to the ambush sight. Ahmed Fasi sat in the first jeep with his five trusted fanatic killers. They were armed with machine gun pistols that could kill many people with just the sweep of an arm. They also carried several clips of ammo and, of course, their trusted knives.
“Hakim,” Fasi said to the driver who was now his number two in command. “I believe one of our mercenaries is a spy for Banyon.”
“Which one,” Hakim questioned with concern.
“I believe it is the one that looks like a surfer. I think his name is Eric.”
“Then I should kill him as soon as we reach the old fort,” the devout Muslim said with a sinister smile.
“That’s a good idea, but would be a grave mistake,” Fasi said. “The other mercenaries would suddenly be more concerned about us and not the enemy.”
“Please let me kill him,” the blood thirsty terrorist pleaded.
“And you will, but when I tell you, not before. There is more at stake here than just your lust for killing infidels,” the puppet master explained.
“When can I kill him?” Hakim asked in anger.
“Once we are set up and everybody is in position. It will be the best time. It will also be dark and the others won’t know that he has gone missing — is that acceptable?”
“I will do it for the glory of Allah,” the young man replied.
***
Meanwhile Eric sat in the front seat of the last jeep in the caravan. The rest of the Banyon’s six man assault team had spread out in the other jeeps to see if they could gather any information that might be useful to stop the ambush.
Eric had contacted Banyon by using the Talk device after they had arrived at Fasi’s residence the night before. He found out that the plan had changed, but was essentially the same for his group. He had also fired off a message to his wife to wish her luck with the King and told her he loved her.
Banyon had told him to check in periodically in case there were any more changes. This was actually very simple for Eric to achieve. All he had to do was touch the talisman around his neck and think of whom he wanted to communicate with. He could then send a thought message and receive a reply almost immediately. As long as he kept the talisman hidden from Fasi, he had an open channel to anyone. No one had any clue that he was talking to someone.
Eric moved his hand to his chest and messaged Colton Banyon. The immediate reply didn’t shock him. Banyon explained that Wolf had observed a conversation between Fasi and his second in command. Eric was to be eliminated soon after the ambush was set up in the desert. Eric’s reply was that his cover had never been blown before, but he would be ready.
Banyon also informed Eric that six mercenaries were left at Fasi’s residence along with the four remaining security personal so there were still a total of twenty armed men including Eric’s team with Fasi.
In addition, he told him the pictures that Steve had taken of each mercenary with the burner phone he had purchased had been analyzed by Timmy and Carol. All the men were wanted killers. Eric didn’t have to worry about harming someone innocent. The phone Steve had used to take the pictures had been flushed down a toilet. Eric messaged Steve to update him on everything.
After his secret conversations, Eric pulled a hat over his eyes and went to sleep.
Chapter Twenty
The hotel where Banyon and the rest of the team stayed overnight was right in the middle of Casablanca. The accommodations were fair and cheap. Heather had shot down a more expensive hotel as a cost cutting measure.
Mandy had rented a van and a Range Rover for the two groups. They huddled around the first vehicle to receive last minute instructions.
“We have to move up the assault on Fasi tonight,” Banyon said after he had finished his conversation with Eric. “We’ll go as soon as Eric messages us — probably shortly after dark.”
“So we need to be ready to storm Fasi’s residence at the same time,” Pramilla noted.
“Don’t worry Colt, we’ll be ready,” Heather replied confidently. “We’ll do our part.”
“Just remember, all the men we will be fighting are killers. You shoot to kill, okay,” Banyon said to make them feel better about the assault.
“But first we have to accomplish a little diplomatic arm wrestling with the King of Morocco,” Pramilla reminded the group. “So let’s go.” She began to hug and kiss everyone and then motioned Mandy, Heather, Previne and Chase to the van.
Maya, Loni and Banyon were dressed identically in tan safari clothes with shorts and climbed into the Range Rover for the four-hour trip to the ambush location.
As they left the streets of Casablanca, Banyon muttered a phrase. “Here’s looking at you kid,” he said in his Humphrey Bogart voice.
Chapter Twenty-One
The first phase of Banyon’s plan was the meeting with the King of Morocco. He agreed to meet Pramilla at an outdoor café not far from his palace in Rabat, the capital of Morocco. Pramilla had explained to the English speaking underling that the discussion involved sensitive issues. So the meeting was conducted away from any prying ears at the palace.
During the hour-long drive, Pr
amilla and Heather changed into a hajib. It was the expected clothing for a woman in all Islamic countries and covered their entire bodies. They wore the hoods up and only their faces were exposed. Chase wore a brown suit. When they reached the capital and found the café they commandeered a table in a corner. They then waited for the King. Mandy and Previne sat anxiously in the van. It was down the street with a clear view of the table.
Pramilla knew that the King didn’t speak English, but fortunately Chase Sanborn had served two tours of duty in Iraq and could speak an Arabic dialect the King understood.
He arrived with flair in a pure white Bentley limousine flanked by two huge black SUVs filled with suited bodyguards. The King stepped from the vehicle wearing a full military uniform that was also pure white. He was directed to the table by a waiter and approached with two guards and an interpreter. He was tall and rugged looking with a large mustache. Pramilla judged him to be around fifty years old and in good shape.
He claimed a chair with his back to the wall for security reasons and spoke. “It is only because of your reputation as an excellent diplomat that I have agreed to this meeting,” he said. “I have a very busy schedule today and can only give you ten minutes.”
Chase translated and Pramilla instructed him to reply. “We appreciate the time and will not waste it your majesty.”
“So what is it that I can do for the Indian Government?” He asked.
“Actually, we are here to help you,” Pramilla told Chase to respond. “But this is very sensitive information and it should be passed on to you in private. It’s for your ears only.”
“My aides stay with me,” the King huffed.
“It’s about your playboy son,” Pramilla offered sweetly. The Kings eyes suddenly widened.
“Leave us,” he ordered the bodyguards and interpreter. The underlings immediately moved to the street.
“Go ahead,” the King prompted Pramilla. There was a measure of concern in his eyes, but he tried hard to hide it.
“Your majesty, we are conducting a very secret mission in the disputed territories of Western Sahara and it has come to our attention that you have sent thirty troops into the area. We want them recalled as soon as it is dark,” Pramilla said.
“What does this have to do with my son?” the King bristled hotly.
“We know that Ahmed Fasi is blackmailing you. We can stop him for good,” Pramilla negotiated.
The King suddenly became agitated. “Ahmed Fasi is a treasure in my country. I will not hear of such blasphemy.” He waved his hand in dismissal of the subject.
“Who has damaging pictures of your son and uses them to control you,” Pramilla replied.
“No one controls the King of Morocco,” the leader blustered.
“Then recall your troops,” Pramilla pressed the monarch. “And we will make sure that Ahmed Fasi never returns to Morocco to blackmail you again.”
The King considered Pramilla’s request for a few seconds. “Perhaps I will be trading one blackmailer for another.”
“I can provide you with the original and only copy of the pictures that Fasi has used against you. My people already have taken them from him. We are after Ahmed Fasi only and no one else. I give you my word as a diplomat,” Pramilla said.
“But Fasi has been a big supporter of my rule and has donated much money to our treasury,” the King explained in almost a whine.
Pramilla now knew that she had found his weakness. She immediately pressed forward. “Under Moroccan law, a felon forfeits his holdings to the government if he is convicted of a crime or dies,” Pramilla explained. “His estate is currently valued at two billion dollars.”
“Hmm,” the King muttered and rubbed his chin. “I could use a new limousine,” he said softly. “And we would get rid of an international felon. I would be a hero wouldn’t I?”
“We’ll make sure that you get all the credit,” Pramilla promised.
“I’ll recall my troops then,” he responded and slapped the table. He called to one of his bodyguards to give him a phone.
“Thank you, your majesty,” Pramilla said with relief.
“But you’d better make sure that he never leaves the desert,” the King demanded just before he made the call to his field commander.
“You can count on that,” Pramilla said.
As soon as the call was finished, Heather spoke for the first time. “Look into my eyes,” she said and started chanting.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The first thing Chase Sanborn said as they left the café was a compliment. “That was a brilliant negotiation Pramilla. I couldn’t have done it better myself and I’m a lawyer.”
“Thank you,” she replied sincerely. “But that wasn’t my first rodeo with men like him. I just needed to find his hot button.”
But as soon as they were out of ear shout Chase turned to Heather and grabbed her arm roughly. “And what the hell did you just do to the King?” Chase demanded as he and the two women continued towards the van. Heather and Chase often butted heads at Dewey & Beatem. She was the President and was responsible for fiscal responsibility and Chase was responsible for getting his people as much as possible out of the organization. The two didn’t always mix.
“Hands off, cowboy, or I’ll put you down like a sick calf,” Heather said aggressively with slang usage he would understand. She immediately went into a defense stance with her arms up.
“She did nothing to harm him,” Pramilla attempted to explain as Mandy and Previne came rushing over.
“What’s going on?” Previne asked.
“I just saw Heather put some kind of magic spell on the King. I don’t like messing with people’s minds,” Chase said angrily.
“It wasn’t a magic spell,” Heather shouted back. “It’s something we call Freud-a-sizing. It is a scientific form of hypnotism that was invented by Sigmund Freud in the nineteen-thirties. Only it was never published because he was afraid that Hitler or the Allies would use it on their people. We discovered it a few years ago. It is a well-kept secret and we only use it when it is absolutely necessary.”
“But you told him to forget our visit and to forget that he had ordered his troops back from Morocco,” Chase responded. “Why do that?”
“That’s correct, we did do that,” Pramilla agreed. “That’s so he can’t go back on his word. Otherwise we would have to stay with him until the troops left the desert and we have other things to do — like break into Fasi’s home.”
“Also, several people may die today in the desert and we don’t want him to remember a conversation with us,” Heather explained.
After a few seconds, Chase seemed satisfied with the answer and asked a question. “How many times have you used this scientific technique?”
“What you really mean is; have we ever used it on you, don’t you?” Heather interpreted his question.
“Yeah, I guess I’m asking that.”
“I have never used it on you,” Heather responded and batted her eyes. “I also promise that I’ll never Freud-a-size you, okay,” she said sweetly.
But that doesn’t mean that I won’t, Previne thought.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Carol,” Timmy shouted. “Colt’s on the move. The GPS in his phone shows that he just entered Western Sahara on route N5. He is headed inland from the coast now. He’ll be at the ambush point in about three hours.”
“Good,” Carol responded. “That means he will be traveling with only Loni and Maya.”
“You can make the call, but don’t talk too long. He will soon be out of range and we will lose cellphone reception,” Timmy said while he watched a small blip on the map as it moved across his monitor screen.
“I’ll call him right now,” Carol said and dialed her phone. She put the call on speakerphone so the others could hear.
***
“Hello?” Banyon answered as a question. He had no idea who would call him right then. He glanced over at Loni who was busy concentrating on her
driving. Huge sunglasses covered her near perfect features and it made him smile. Maya sat in the back studying the Orion codex.
“Colt,” the caller gushed. “It’s Carol. I have some important news for you.”
Carol had been assigned a special project by Colton Banyon to find out anything she could about the Sumi. He didn’t expect her to have any information yet. She had just started the project a day ago.
“What have you got?” Banyon decided to ask even though he had other things on his mind — like an ambush.
“I’ve been studying the pictures that Maya and Loni took while in the first depository in Ecuador and I can now answer one of the questions you posed. It is rather important,” she said excitedly.
“What question?” Banyon barked into the phone. He didn’t put the call on speakerphone as he hadn’t told anyone on the team about the recent activates of the Sumi. Not even Loni. He didn’t want them distracted until after the battle tonight.
“I’ve discovered why there was a sarcophagus in the room,” Carol gushed. “Only you’re not going to be happy when you find out why they put it there.”
“Okay,” he replied as he tried to remain calm. He didn’t need any more bad information cluttering his brain right now.
“I was able to translate the writing on the sarcophagus,” Carol told him. “It is actually modern Turkic, or more specifically Turkish. The predominate language of the Ottoman Empire and modern Turkey.”
“So it’s not ancient,” Banyon recapped.
“The coffin is less than a hundred years old,” she responded.
“What does it say?”
“It says the body in the sarcophagus was the Supreme Leader of the Sumi. He came to earth to evaluate where he would put his cities,” Carol said slowly to let it sink in.
Rather than challenge her findings, Banyon asked a question. “How did he die?”
The Society of Orion Book Six: The Moroccan Affair: Colton Banyon Mystery Page 5
