by Rick Chesler
Tanner looked over at Danielle and grinned like a Cheshire cat.
It was time to follow the money.
EIGHTEEN
U.S. Embassy, The Hague, Netherlands
Mr. Peterson stared at Stephen Shah as the embassy administrator began talking to whomever had picked up the phone on the other end.
“David, listen to me. A State Department envoy just handed me embassy shutdown orders from the White House.”
Shah heard an unintelligible line of inquiry emanate from the phone.
“Yes, shutdown orders. Right, they’re complying with the demands. At least for now.”
Peterson listened for a few more seconds and then cupped the phone, looking at Shah.
“Where are we supposed to go? Do we stay in country or report for duty in D.C.?”
Shah hadn’t considered this and had to think fast. As much as he enjoyed the vision of a couple of hundred foreign embassy workers suddenly showing up for non-existent duty in Washington, it was more consistent with his temporary closure story that they remain nearby.
“Stay in country and be prepared to resume operations when notified. You have a disaster plan in place, correct? Like if there’s an earthquake or a flood or something?”
Peterson nodded.
“Treat this like that. Those type of plans generally tell employees how to contact each other once off the premises. Put your disaster plan into effect now.”
Peterson spoke into his phone. “We need to evacuate everyone and then follow our disaster plan for coordination of activities while off-site.”
For the first time since he’d entered the embassy, Shah allowed himself the faintest of hopes that his ploy might actually work. Emboldened, he pressed on, half-expecting that at any second a team of security men would burst into the office to escort him away.
“You also need to remember to announce the closure publicly just before or after leaving, to let the terrorists know that their demands have been met.”
“Hold on a minute, okay?” Peterson said into the phone. Then he said to Shah, “Shouldn’t President Carmichael do that?”
He was right, of course. But Shah was hoping that since The Hague was Hofstad’s base of operations that a local announcement would reach their ears soon, and they would put a hold on whatever they had in store for the citizenry of the United States for at least the next few hours. Who knows, maybe the White House would follow with its own announcement if they assume the embassy acted on its own best intel. Maybe they know something the president doesn’t. But these thoughts took a backseat in Shah’s mind to the situation right here, right now. He still had some convincing to do, and even if Peterson and whomever he was talking to were fooled, he was well aware that this little charade could have the rug pulled out from under it anytime in the next few hours.
“The president will do it, but sometimes local sources are taken as more authentic by local people, so we would like the announcement to come from the embassy itself as well.”
That would have to do. Shah hoped it would be enough as Peterson conveyed the instructions to his colleague on the phone. Shah’s inner voice told him he should get while the getting was good. The ruse would either work or it wouldn’t. There wasn’t anything more he could do here. The questioning would grow more pointed, more confirmations would be requested, so it was better if he left now and hoped the plan would be carried out. Based on his knowledge of federal administration of overseas assets, Shah gave it about a forty percent chance of success.
At least Peterson and his contact were now discussing the details of implementing the shutdown.
“Excuse me, Mr. Peterson?” Shah interrupted. Peterson raised his eyebrows at Shah expectantly.
“I’ve got to be on my way. I trust you can handle things from here?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Rahimi. You can count on us.”
“Excellent. I’ll be sure to let the president know what a first rate operation you run here. Just don’t forget that announcement.”
Peterson beamed. Thank you, Mr. Rahimi. Yes, Sir!”
Shah turned and left the office, closing the door behind him.
NINETEEN
Charleston, South Carolina
Tanner punched Amir in the face, a forceful, closed-fisted shot. He didn’t enjoy violent behavior but time was short and he needed to get it across to this terrorist that he meant business. Blood erupted from the Hofstad agent’s nose, staining the bedding as he keeled over. Danielle kept her pistol trained on him.
“What did you do that for?” He spat blood out onto the covers. “I said I would get you the money.”
“That’s just to keep you from getting too comfortable. Just a little preview of what’s to come if I don’t have that ten grand in the next hour.”
“The next hour?” Amir struggled until he was able to right himself, sitting once more on the now bloody bed.
Tanner raised his fist as if he was about to strike a hammer blow. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
Amir seemed to shrink into the bed. “One hour, okay. I can do it.”
Tanner wondered if Amir personally had ten thousand he could access from an account of his own, which would mean there would be nothing to trace to Hofstad. He hoped not. But regardless, it was worth a try.
“Where is it?”
“It is in one of my accounts. I can wire it to your account or I can withdraw it in the morning from any major bank.”
“I said one hour.”
“Then provide me with an account number and I will transfer it immediately from my phone.”
In his line of work, Tanner had learned long ago to be prepared for this eventuality. He had an account setup for use by OUTCAST — an account that was well-funded and easily accessible online, yet that was also setup under the alias he was currently using.
Tanner glared at Amir, channeling some of the genuine hatred he felt for this terrorist who, if not directly responsible for killing those people in Miami, at least supported the organization that did. Tomorrow would most likely bring more devastation if OUTCAST was unable to do anything.
“I can give you an account number. But we use my computer.” Tanner reached under the bed and retrieved his briefcase from where he’d been hiding.
“You could be recording my keystrokes,” Amir stated.
Tanner backhanded him across the mouth, bloodying his lip. “I could be killing you, too. Would you prefer that?”
Amir said nothing.
“If I wanted more than ten thousand don’t you think I would have asked for more? We use my machine and you transfer the ten thousand or else I will kill you right here in this room.”
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Tanner handed the notebook computer to Danielle, who was familiar with the OUTCAST account. She took it to the room desk to boot it up while Tanner aimed his firearm at Amir’s head.
“To expedite things, I’m going to untie you so that you can use the computer. You will have two weapons trained on you the entire time and everything you are doing online will be closely watched. Do not try anything funny. Is that clear?’
“Yes.”
“It’s ready,” Danielle said, pointing to the open computer, a web browser sitting at the ready.
Tanner made a show of opening his folding knife in front of Amir’s face. Then he walked slowly around the bed until he was behind the prisoner.
“I’m going to cut your arms free now. Do not move until I say and you will not be hurt.”
“Okay.”
Danielle moved over to the bed, standing in front of Amir with her pistol aimed at his chest while Tanner sliced through the lamp cord and stepped back.
“Stand up slowly.”
Danielle backed up to the wall to give him plenty of room as he put his hands on the bed and pushed himself up to a standing position.
“Now walk slowly to the desk and sit down in the chair.”
Amir did so, eyes fixed on the computer as he walked.
“I must warn you about something,” Amir said, taking a seat in front of the computer.
In response Tanner cocked his PM9.
“I am not positive — this is the truth — but transferring this much money from my account, which is company linked — my own personal accounts cannot be accessed in this manner — may trigger an investigation.”
Tanner smirked. “We’ll be long gone by then. Let us worry about that.”
Amir turned his head away from the screen to look at Tanner. “No, you don’t understand. I’m just trying to avoid surprises here since I don’t want to get shot. But the company I work for has its own security measures, some of which are rather extraordinary, and they—not the bank — may come after us to see if the transaction is legitimate.”
Inside, Tanner was grinning hard. But outside, he kept up his impassive stare. Amir mistook his silence for anger.
“There is nothing I can do about that. It may work without incident. It may not. Usually when I transfer this much money my superiors know about it in advance. That’s all I’m saying. If we can wait until morning I can go into a bank in person and withdraw the entire sum from one of my personal accounts. Not that I relish the thought of spending the night like this,” he said, looking over at Danielle’s pistol pointed at his face, “but if it means life rather than death then of course I will do it.”
Tanner moved close enough to read the screen. “Do the transfer.”
Amir nodded and put his hands on the computer. He typed in a dot-com web address. Tanner didn’t recognize it, and it didn’t suggest any connection to Hofstad.
Tanner watched closely as Amir used familiar looking online banking controls to transfer ten thousand U.S. dollars to another account. Tanner noted that he had to set the currency into dollars from Euros, strongly suggesting a European-based system.
Amir looked over his shoulder at Tanner. “Your account number?”
Tanner removed a piece of paper from his briefcase while Danielle guarded Amir. He read off the numbers, which Amir entered into the online system. He clicked enter and the site gave a confirmation that the transfer was processing.
“It is done.” Amir turned around to look Tanner in the eye.
Tanner waved his weapon toward the bed. “Go have a seat while I confirm the transfer.” He didn’t really care about the money. He was just buying time. He hoped that someone in Hofstad would notice that ten thousand dollars had been transferred from one of their accounts immediately after one of their lab techs had declared the antidote samples to be ineffective and probably outright junk, and come running. But checking to see that Amir had actually initiated a transfer and not some kind of coded alert would be worth doing also, he thought, as he faced the laptop’s screen away from Amir’s view.
Tanner logged into the OUTCAST financial account and checked the recent activity. Indeed, there it was: a pending deposit for $10,000.
“Lucky for you it worked, Amir.”
“Can I go now?”
Suddenly Tanner’s radio squawked on his belt. Liam’s voice. Tanner picked up the unit and lowered the volume, holding it up to his ear as he took it into the bathroom. No need for Amir to hear Liam. Especially when he sounded so frantic, as he did now.
“Activity at the front entrance. Four guys just got dropped out of an SUV that I was watching. They’re headed into the lobby now.”
TWENTY
Charleston, South Carolina
In Amir’s hotel room bathroom, Tanner adjusted his radio’s squelch setting, attempting to get a cleaner signal.
“Say again, Bravo — did you say four guys?”
“That’s affirmative! Coming in now. Should I follow them in?”
“Yes! We’ve got control of the tango up here.” He gave Liam the room number.
“Copy that, in pursuit.”
Tanner felt much better knowing he had the ex-SEAL on his side. Three on four — or three on five if one counted Amir — were much preferable odds to two on five. Tanner considered that they might be able to use Amir as a hostage, but in his experience terrorists cared little for their own. They would not shed a tear for their fallen comrade.
He walked out of the bathroom and back into the main room, where Amir was pleading with Danielle to let him go.
“Shut up, Amir,” Tanner said, collecting his laptop and tossing it into his briefcase.
“They split up,” Liam said over the radio, audible to everyone in the room, including Amir.
“Two going up the elevator, two went ground level out back, by the pool.”
Tanner ran to the balcony and pulled the curtain aside just enough to get a look outside. The pool deck was underneath, mostly empty at this evening hour but with a small group in the hot tub. He didn’t see a fire ladder or any way to readily access the balconies from below, although he knew that a prepared team could make easy work of it.
“You have support on the outside!” Amir accused. “Who are you? You are not simply a biotechnology company wanting to help people with your product, are you? You don’t even have a product — the sample you gave us was pure trash. Who do you work for? CIA?”
Tanner knew Danielle was too disciplined to look away from her charge, but he could see her flinch at the closeness with which Amir’s verbal dart came to hitting the bullseye.
“Sorry, Amir, old buddy,” Tanner said as he crossed the room to the phone on the nightstand, “But there’s no time to chat now.”
“What are you doing?” Amir asked.
Tanner pressed a button on the phone and waited a second before saying, “Yes, I’d like a bottle of your best champagne brought up immediately, please. Yes, charge it to the room. Thank you.”
Tanner let the phone receiver drop and turned to Amir. “Sorry to pile on the expenses, pal, but your boss will understand, I’m sure.” He raised his gun and walked toward Amir until the barrel pressed into his temple. “Who’s coming up here? Do they work for you or do you work for them?”
Amir breathed heavily, his substantial gut heaving in anxiety-riddled gasps. A tracer of blood sluiced down his temple to his cheek.
“Answer the question!”
Danielle interjected. “They’re here.”
They heard men calling through the door in Danish. Tanner heard what he was pretty sure was a name, but it wasn’t Amir, not that he thought Amir was his real name.
“Answer it!” He jammed the gun barrel into Amir’s head at the same time as a little warning bell went off in his mind.
His hands are still untied…
They heard the door being kicked in at the same time as Amir rammed his head into the belly of Tanner, who had been looking at the entrance.
“Tanner!” Danielle fired two shots at the intruders, who wore black ski masks with their eyes blacked out and brandished sound-suppressed handguns. Tanner fired a shot of his own at the doorway and at that moment Amir made his move. Not bothering to get up from the chair, he lashed out with a vicious judo chop to Tanner’s arms, both of which were holding his gun. Tanner’s second shot went low, hitting the carpet. His gun went flying a couple of feet away onto the floor.
Tanner dove for his gun but Amir toppled over in his chair onto him, grabbing his legs. The OUTCAST leader wormed his way on the floor toward his weapon while Amir struggled to pull him away from it.
Danielle fired two more rounds at the advancing intruders. One of them grunted in pain as he took a bullet and spun into the wall, but the other kept shooting. Danielle used the end of the dresser as cover, crouching behind it just as a bullet chipped away a corner, missing her but spraying a splinter into her left eye and blurring her vision in that orb. She fired again, this time at the Hofstad man she hadn’t hit, who was now advancing on Tanner’s fallen pistol. She hit him in the gut but he kept coming and she knew he was wearing body armor beneath his clothes.
In another second, four things happened at once.
They heard a knock on the hotel door followed by a woman
calling, “Room service!”
Tanner was grappling with Amir and the gunman who had advanced into the room.
Danielle saw an opportunity and shot the same man she’d hit before in the head, splashing his cerebral matter onto the cerulean wallpaper.
The sliding glass door leading to the balcony exploded in a shower of glass and two more Hofstad men crashed through into the room. Danielle’s heart sank for a moment. Then she saw that they were both already dead.
“Freeze, don’t move!” The terrorist inside the room shouted. He had his shoe on Tanner’s gun and his own firearm pointed at Tanner’s head.
Danielle swiveled the barrel of her gun from Amir to the balcony. When she started to swing it back to Amir, the terrorist yelled at her: “Put it down or I blow your friend away!”
Amir outstretched his meaty palm. “Give it to me.”
And then she watched as the head of the man pointing the gun at Tanner seemed to explode into a misshapen mass of extruded meat, his eyes suddenly traveling down the sides of his face. His gun flew up into the air as his cranial contents dripped to the floor. With a surprising degree of alacrity for a man of his bulk, Amir reached up and caught the weapon in mid-air.
Tanner gut shot him as soon as he did. Amir made a coughing sound and dropped to his knees, both hands, including the one still holding the gun clutching at his ruined mid-section.
Then they heard Liam’s voice. “Balcony, clear!”
“Main room, clear,” Tanner responded. His voice did not sound nearly as energetic as Liam’s.
The ex-SEAL stormed into the room, counting the bodies as he looked about.
“Got what we need?”
Tanner nodded.
“Time to go, boys and girls, unless you want to stick around to explain five dead bodies.”
Tanner got to his feet and looked around at the carnage, disparaged. Every single Hofstad man was dead. Quickly, the three of them searched each body for anything that might lead them higher up the terror organization’s hierarchical structure.
