Code Name_Camelot

by David Archer

  “Mister President, I'm going to take this and put it to work.” He reached into a pocket and produced a small card, which he passed to the president. “This is a special number that comes directly to me. If you call it, I will either answer or I will return your call within a short time. If you think of anything or learn anything that may help me to find your daughter, call me as soon as you can. The phone is scrambled, and cannot be tapped.” He rose to his feet. “There is one other thing,” he said. “I've been cautioned that there is absolutely no way for us to know who in your government might be involved in this or compromised in some way. I'm going to ask that what we have spoken of today remains between us. Our ambassador only knows that I was sent here to investigate this case from our end, but he will not know any details. I'd like you to keep your people completely in the dark about me, as well.”

  Habib nodded. “I understand. I will tell no one, not even the Prime Minister, unless your mission fails or I run out of time.”

  Noah extended a hand, and the president took it. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I'll leave now and get started, and send word to Morgenstern when I have something to report. All he will do is suggest that you call his friend, which is me, of course. Do you understand?”

  The president shook his hand, and Noah could see the tears that wanted to spill over. “Of course, yes. Thank you, Mister Colson, and may Allah go with you.”

  Colson walked out of the office, and found Morgenstern sitting next to the young man called Starling. The ambassador was carefully looking down at the floor, making certain that his eyes never touched the computer monitor on Starling's lap. When Colson appeared, he leapt to his feet.

  Colson looked to Starling. “Hey, you ready to go? Pause your game, or whatever?”

  Starling looked up and grinned. “Actually, I just won the game, so I'm ready whenever you are.” He closed the laptop and unfolded himself from the chair.

  “Everything go okay?” Morgenstern asked.

  “Went great,” Colson said. “I think we can make this work.”

  Morgenstern looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded and turned to walk out of the office. Colson and Starling followed, and they were met immediately by Mahmoud, who escorted them back out of the building, and was careful to reclaim the temporary IDs he had given to Colson and Starling.

  Once the men were safely inside the limousine, the ambassador looked at Colson. “I'm actually very surprised that the president was willing to meet with you alone. That's quite unlike him.”

  Colson shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “It might be out of character for President Habib, but it's not a bit unusual for Papa Habib. When we walked in together, we met the leader of the country. When you stepped out of the room, I met with a frightened, worried father. Unfortunately, that worried father is in a position to do serious damage to American relations with Africa, and if I can't allay his fears, he's going to. He and the Prime Minister have already agreed that if they don't have Selah back by the day before the deadline, they're going to give in.”

  Morgenstern let out a sigh. “If the Russian president gets a strong enough foothold in Mauritania, he'll sweep through the rest of Africa like the proverbial plague of locusts. Can you imagine what would happen if Russia gets control of all of the potential military power present on this continent?”

  Colson shrugged. “I don't have to imagine it, that's for diplomats like you. All I've got to do is find the bastards who took this girl, and kill them.”

  Starling suddenly grinned. “And now we get into the real game,” he said. “Just wait till I show you the pieces I managed to score while we were there.”

  Morgenstern rolled his eyes. “That's another thing,” he said. “I can't believe you actually hacked into their computer network while you were visiting with the president of the country. Do you have any idea what would've happened to all of us if they had detected your little computer intrusion?”

  “That's why I brought Neil—I mean, Starling. He's the best there is, and nobody detects what he's doing.”

  “Yeah,” said the skinny kid. “I could've hacked them from the hotel, and they'd never have known. The trouble is that they have multiple Wi-Fi networks in that building, and some of them are about as close to hack-proof as you can get. Getting into them from outside would take forever, but every network has some sort of back door built into it, so that the IT people can get in even if some idiot manages to change the password and forget it. Back doors are hard to find, unless you're a true IT expert, like me. Once I found it, I just tried some of the most common IT passwords. These guys almost always use one of them, just in case something happens to them and another one has to take over. I went through half a dozen of them and got in. Then it was just a matter of copying the files from every computer on the network. Oh, and that included the president's computers, both the official one and the personal one that he probably keeps hidden somewhere in the office.”

  Colson nodded. “You can show me what you got after we get back to the hotel. I don't want to compromise Ambassador Morgenstern any more than we already have.”

  Morgenstern's eyes bulged. “Compromise me any more? Are you kidding? The stuff you got on that computer needs to be gone through by my intelligence people at the embassy.”

  Colson shook his head. “That's not within my orders,” he said. “You can put in a request to my boss for a copy of it all, but I don't know if that will work.”

  Morgenstern, his eyes still bugged out, stared at him for a moment. “Colson, no one will even tell me who your boss is! Hell, I don't have a clue who you work for. How do I put in a request for a copy?”

  Colson shrugged. “Okay, I see your point. I'll put the request in for you.”

  TWO

  22 Hours Earlier

  “Okay, here's what we've got,” Donald Jefferson said. One of the senior executives of E & E, it was his job to be sure that each team leader was as prepared as possible for his or her missions, and this often included delivering the briefings himself. “President Habib of Mauritania has a daughter who has been kidnapped. Her name is Selah, and she is seventeen. That's a photo of her on the screen behind me. Apparently, the president was informed that if his country does not enter into an alliance with Russia, one that they've been resisting for a long time, his daughter will be dismembered and killed. Mr. Habib told our ambassador about the kidnapping a couple of days ago, who sent it up the line until our own president heard about it, and he dumped it in our laps. Your mission is to track down who took the girl, kill the sons of bitches and bring her back safely. Sounds fairly easy and straightforward, right? The problem is that we have absolutely no idea who took the girl or where she might be held. You're going to have to find her on your own.”

  The four people sitting there listening to him all glanced at one another, but only the blonde-haired man spoke. “We talked about this,” he said. “None of us have any actual investigative experience. I'm curious why we are being sent on this mission, rather than a team that's done this sort of thing before.”

  The woman sitting beside Jefferson leaned forward. “I'm sending you because you're the best we've got. Noah, this mission is so important that it has to be handled by someone who won't hesitate. That's you, as we all know. And while you may not have experience in investigations, you have a mind that works like a computer. I'm quite confident that if anyone can find this girl in time to save her life and save the day, it will be you.”

  Noah Wolf nodded, and stayed silent. After a moment, Jefferson began again.

  “You're flying out tonight for Mauritania. Our embassy there has been briefed through diplomatic parcel on your arrival. I'll be giving each of you temporary identity kits, so as always, be sure you learn your names and don't mess up. The initial phase of the mission is two-fold: Noah, you'll meet with President Habib and question him about the situation. Try to get him to dig deep in his memory of the phone call that told him about his daughter. There mig
ht be something there that will help you figure out where to start.” He turned to look at Neil Blessing, Team Camelot's computer expert. “Meanwhile, Neil can be working his way into the computers in the Presidential Palace. Somewhere in those computers should be a recording of that call, and you want to find it and listen to it.”

  “Oh, goody, something to keep me busy,” Neil said. “I'm getting awfully bored with all the games I play, it'll be nice to have something fresh to work on.”

  “What about me?” asked a big man. In another setting, he might well have been mistaken for a professional football player. Moose Conway was Noah's backup muscle, always ready to jump into the fray with any kind of weapons, or just with his fists.

  “In this initial phase,” Jefferson said, “you'll just have to wait at the hotel, along with Ms. Child. It's highly doubtful the girl's being held right there in Mauritania, so we expect you'll be flying right back out. As soon as we know a destination, we'll make sure that everything you need will be waiting when you arrive there.”

  Sarah Child, who was Noah's driver and transportation expert, simply nodded and shrugged. “Works for me,” she said. “Means I can sleep in.”

  Jefferson managed to suppress a smile, and then passed out the temporary IDs. The three men each received a small box, which contained a cell phone, a wristwatch and a wallet with driver’s license, Social Security card, a number of photos, several folded and creased receipts—some of which were several months old—and lots of other wallet trash, as well as a passport with the same name. Sarah was given a purse, and she grinned as she looked through it. The wallet inside, like the ones the men had received, had ID, passport, photos and lots of flotsam and jetsam, but the other contents of the purse delighted her. She also received a cell phone, but instead of a watch she received a necklace with a heavy pendant. All of the makeup and other things inside were of brands that she liked. She glanced up at Allison, who smiled at her.

  “Hey, Sarah, us girls gotta stick together, right?” Allison asked. “I told the Identities Department to be sure they checked your preferences before they put the purse together. No sense giving you stuff you don't want.”

  “Thanks! Some of the other stuff makes me break out.”

  “Okay, okay, let's get serious, people,” Jefferson said. “The cell phones you received are satellite enabled, so you should never find yourself without signal. The watches and necklace contain GPS-satellite tracking devices, making it possible for us back here, and Neil in the field, to keep track of your whereabouts at all times. Each of the identities has a complete backstory, so if anyone checks them out, they'll hold up. To simplify things, each of your identities grew up in the same towns that you did, went to school where you did, and for those of you where it matters, followed the same work history that you did. That way, if you're challenged and have to provide details, you can.”

  “Okay, wait a minute,” Neil said. “So you're saying that this Eric Starling character did everything I did? If you'll recall, I didn't even get to graduate from my own high school, because I was locked up in the Chicago Youth Authority. Did Starling hack into a bank and get caught, too?”

  “No, he didn't, and we were going to explain this to you, anyway. Eric Starling went to work for the State Department right after graduating high school because he has some amazing skills at pattern recognition. He's a mathematical genius, which is what brought him onto government radar.”

  “I'm a mathematical genius, and the government never came after me for that,” Neil said, his voice almost whining. “They waited until I got in trouble, let me suffer for months. Was that fair?”

  “Grow up, Neil,” Moose growled, but the smack he sent to the back of the kid's head was gentle and friendly. “Nobody wants to hear about your bad luck.”

  “All right, settle down,” Allison said. “Noah, how do you plan to approach the situation?”

  “I want to talk to President Habib, first off. Is there anyone else who knows any details about the girl's disappearance?”

  “Ndiaye, the Prime Minister,” Jefferson said. “We know that Habib has told him what's going on, and discussed it with him. As for anyone else, we have no idea. The security on this is so tight it's unbelievable.”

  “I can imagine,” Noah said. “One of the most consistent things I’ve found in human nature is the determination of a parent to protect a child. What about the girl's mother?”

  “She died four years ago, complications from what should've been a routine surgery. There was a nanny until the girl turned sixteen, but she's had a lot of free reign since then. The Habib family does have security from their version of the Secret Service, but it's not anywhere near as good as ours. Seems that she's been known to slip away from them quite often, and apparently she did on the day that she disappeared. She was supposed to be shopping with friends, but never made it to the mall.”

  “So, basically, we have no idea where she might have been when she was grabbed?”

  “I'm afraid that's the case,” Jefferson said. “Frustrating, but true.”

  “Then that tells me that the case has not received any publicity, or a thousand people would be screaming that they saw what happened. One or two of them would be telling the truth, which might've helped, but now we have no way of finding any witnesses.”

  Allison leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “I warned you, this is a rough one. I hate to throw you into it, as fresh and new as you are, but you're the best shot we have at a mess like this. If Team Camelot can't do it, then I don't think anyone can.”

  “One thing did occur to me,” said Jefferson. “We could give you an investigative specialist, just for this mission. He'd be under your command, but he may know what to do when you're confused or lost.”

  Noah stared at him for several seconds. “Who is it? Are we talking about somebody with experience in this type of case?”

  “I'm not sure there has ever been a case like this before, or at least not one that was so important. This guy was FBI, just retired last year, but he's an old friend of mine and he's bored. I asked him point blank this morning, early, if he'd be willing to work with an E & E team on a mission of vital national security importance, and he didn't even hesitate before he said yes.”

  “He was FBI,” Noah said, “and he's got a clearance high enough to know about us? How did that happen?”

  “A couple of years back, he got dragged into something to do with Homeland Security, a case of potential terrorism here in the USA. It was necessary to tell him things that were classified at our level, and when he identified who the terrorists were, it was up to us to go in and take them out. It was all handled so quietly that the press never even got wind of it, which is the way the president wanted it. Anyway, it left Stanley with enough clearance to know about us, and he and I became good friends. He lives in Kirtland, and acts as a consultant for us at times. This is the first time we've ever considered using him on a team mission.”

  “I'll take him,” Noah said. “He does understand that he has to follow my orders, right?”

  Jefferson nodded. “He does.” He took out a cell phone and dialed a number. “Stan? You still up for that fieldwork we talked about this morning? Then pack a bag and come on down to my office. My secretary will show you where I am. Really? Good, that will speed things up. See you soon.” He looked at Noah. “He got so excited when I mentioned it this morning, that he's already packed and ready to go. He'll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Won't he need an ID kit?” Noah asked.

  Jefferson grinned, reached into his jacket pocket and produced another wallet and passport. “Let's just say I was pretty confident that you'd both agree to it.”

  “I'd rather just say you're a cocky SOB,” Allison said. “I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready for a coffee break. Anybody else?”

  They all agreed, so Allison called for an aide to bring in coffee and doughnuts. They were all happily partaking of the treats when the new fifth m
ember of their team arrived.

  “Noah, Neil, Moose, Sarah, let me introduce you to Stanley Decker, retired from the FBI. Stan, this is Noah Wolf, Neil Blessing, Moose Conway and Sarah Child. Team Camelot.”

  Stan Decker was a tall, well-built black man who appeared to be in his late 50s. A quick once-over told Noah that he was a very confident man, and probably quite capable.

  Decker extended a hand, and Noah took it. “Mister Decker,” Noah said, “it's good to meet you. Mister Jefferson's told us a lot about you.”

  “Yeah, well, don't believe half of what he says. I can't leap tall buildings in a single bound, and I haven't quite managed to outrun a speeding bullet yet, though I have been known to try a couple of times.”

  Noah put a grin on his face. “That stuff wouldn't impress me all that much, anyway,” he said. “What I like is the idea that you'll be able to help me figure out what to do with this nightmare of a mission.”

  “I'm certainly going to try,” Decker said. He took a moment to greet and introduce himself to the others, and was welcomed warmly into the team.

  Jefferson went through the briefing again, for Decker's sake, gave him his own ID and password kit, and asked the entire team if they had any questions. Decker was the first one to raise a hand.

  “What do we know about the kidnappers themselves? Anything?”

  Jefferson shook his head. “Not yet. President Habib is reluctant to allow any information to make it into a diplomatic pouch, on the theory that someone else's spies might be as good as our spies. He doesn't want to take the chance that either the kidnappers or Russia will find out that we've offered to help.”

  “And how soon can we meet with him, to discuss the situation?”

  “We've already arranged for Noah, in the guise of a diplomatic attaché, to meet the president tomorrow morning. It's very doubtful that we could get you in on such short notice, as well, so be sure to brief Noah on the questions you want him to ask. He'll be carrying an undetectable recording device, so you'll be able to hear Habib's answers. I know that isn't the optimum solution, but it's the best we can do right now.”