“We’ve been trying to contact you,” said Turner.
“I know!” said Carson. “I’ve been busy.”
“We’re closing in,” said Turner.
“Deputy Director, I’ve got it!” shouted the NSA agent.
“Got what, son?” asked Carson.
“I’ve cracked the email code.”
Turner rushed away to see what it was and missed the slashing motion that Carson made across his own neck.
By the time Turner reached the NSA agent, every computer screen in the building had gone blank. Phone lines stopped working and Reid’s conversation with Simon and Karl in Frankfurt stopped.
Frankie had spotted Harry’s cutting motion just before the computers died.
“What are you doing Harry?” she asked confused.
“What happened?” asked Turner, looking up at the blank bank of screens that towered over the room.
The sound of boots running into the room answered Turner’s question as the outer perimeter of the room filled with military personnel.
Turner looked at Carson with great confusion and betrayal.
“People, I want to thank you for all the hard work you have put in over the last few week—”
“What in the hell are you doing Harry?” protested Turner.
“We have arrived at a point in the investigation when this has become a military matter. As such, I would ask all non-military personnel to vacate the building immediately.”
“No fucking way! We’ve just cracked the emails!” screeched Turner.
“We cracked them thirty minutes ago,” said Carson.
“We?”
“Defense,” replied Carson.
“What are you going to do?”
“Whatever we need to, to protect the United States of America,” replied Carson before adding. “And her allies.”
“What are you doing, Harry?” asked Frankie quietly.
Carson looked at her. She could see he was struggling. He turned back to face the main center.
“Ladies and gentlemen, once again, I thank you for all your efforts. But action will be taken here that none of you have signed up for. I must ask you to leave now, or you will be removed forcibly.”
“Oh Jesus, you’re not, Harry. Tell me you’re not?” pleaded Turner.
“What?” asked both Reid and Frankie.
“He’s going to shoot the plane down!”
“Just stop it from taking off!” said Reid.
“They won’t, they want to make sure they get rid of the virus and any carriers that may be aboard. If they stop the plane they may not get them all and risk a European outbreak,” Turner worked out.
“Harry?” asked Frankie, looking for confirmation.
“Everyone out now!” screamed Carson.
Chapter 75
“There must be something we can do!” said Reid as they walked dejectedly out to the parking lot of the NCTC.
Turner looked back at his center where a ring of very serious-faced young soldiers stood guard. “He’s the Secretary of Defense and I’m fairly sure he’ll have informed the President of what he’s doing.”
“Shooting down an American airliner?!” said Frankie in disgust.
“That’s if it’s just one. We’ve got five different flight bookings for James Smith,” reminded Reid.
“Where’s that NSA guy?” asked Turner urgently looking around the hundreds of agents that were pouring out of the center.
“He’s probably still there. NSA’s part of the DoD,” said Frankie.
“Well, not the right part,” said Turner, spotting the young agent amongst the crowd. He pushed through the crowd with Frankie and Reid in tow.
“The emails, what did they say?” asked Turner.
The NSA agent looked behind him. “I’m sorry Deputy Director, I can’t say.”
“You got kicked out just like us though?!”
“Only because I don’t have the correct clearance to stay.”
“What clearance are you?”
“Top secret,” he replied. “To be honest I thought I was cleared for anything.”
“So what clearance level is left in there?” asked Frankie.
“Top Secret, SAP.”
“SAP?”
“Special Access Program. Only those cleared for the program are allowed to stay.”
Turner looked back at the center. “How many was that?”
“There were only about ten left in the Operations center when I left. They checked my clearance and kicked me out.”
“Ten?!” said Reid. “That’s hardly enough to man the front desk!”
“But you cracked the email?”
“Yes but I can’t tell you what was in it.”
“Can you tell us how many there were?”
“Hmm, probably not,” he said, looking back once again to the center.
“Was your guess right?” asked Turner.
“Way off.”
“One zero?” asked Turner.
“Two, sir,” he said.
Turner paled at the understanding of how big the number was.
“How many?” asked Frankie.
Turner didn’t want to say it out loud in case the Agent confirmed it. He was still hoping they had crossed wires. “Ten thousand?” he said tentatively, hoping he’d be corrected. A faint smile from the NSA agent told him he was correct.
“That can’t be right!” said Frankie. “That’d need hundreds of flights. They’d be on every flight leaving Europe for America!”
“He can’t shoot down every plane heading for America,” said Reid.
“What’s a hundred thousand lives compared to over three hundred million?” questioned Turner.
“Just cancel all the planes!” shouted Frankie.
Turner shook his head. “They’re assuming the jihadists aren’t going to be contagious in Europe. Nick threatened America not the rest of the world. If Europe gets Ebola, the Middle East and the Muslim world gets it. The carriers will plan to become contagious during their flights. Remember what Colonel Barnes said, there’s a four-hour window from infection to being contagious. They need the flights to go ahead as though nothing’s wrong. They need the carriers in the air when they become contagious. Otherwise, hundreds of millions or even billions would be at risk.”
“So they’ll just massacre tens of thousands of innocent passengers?” asked Frankie sharply.
“They’ll already be dead, they just won’t know it yet. Shooting the planes down will save them an excruciating death. Remember that poor guy in France?”
“If we stop the planes, they won’t be exposed,” argued Frankie.
“They will. And all of Europe will be exposed if the planes don’t take off. The terrorists are probably already taking their injections. Some of those flights are probably already in the air, or at least boarding, and they’d need to take the injection before the security gates.”
“Do you need me anymore?” interrupted the NSA agent. He did not want to be seen talking to the group. Carson had told him personally not to divulge what he had discovered.
“Anything else you can tell us?” asked Turner.
“No,” he said, leaving quickly thereafter. As desperate as he was to tell them about the incorrect assumption they had made, Secretary of Defense Carson had made it very clear that his life would not be worth living if he ever discovered the young agent had divulged what he had uncovered.
Chapter 76
9:30 a.m.
Frankfurt
Walid checked the corridor as per Nick’s instructions. It was clear.
“What do you think?” he asked, his head still outside the door.
“I think you should come back into the room before you speak!” said Nick.
“Sorry,” said Walid, quickly closing the door.
“I think we’ll go ahead as if nothing has happened.”
“But if they know your room, they’ll know your flight.”
Nick shook his head. “I’v
e got a booking on the Washington flight at 12:20 p.m. in a different name.”
“But they’ll be looking for you?”
“It’s a different airline using a completely separate area of the terminal and I don’t look anything like Nick Geller.”
“But what about the name you were going to use?”
Nick pulled out the passport for James Smith, opening it at the photo page. It looked exactly as he currently did - a man in his late fifties, with a heavily wrinkled face.
Nick picked up his small bag and disappeared into the bathroom. A far younger and rounder faced man appeared shortly afterwards. The gray streaks that had added maturity to the aging James Smith were gone and his eye color had also changed, once again, to complete the new look.
Small red dots covered Nick’s face, onto which he was applying concealer.
“Botox to tighten the slack skin and a bit more filler in the jawline and cheeks, along with some heavier clothes and voila, five years younger than I normally look and a lot heavier thanks to a fat face,” he said, pulling out another passport.
“Kyle Johnson, pleased to meet you,” said Nick to Walid, holding out his hand in greeting, as though for the first time.
“You’re very good at that,” said Walid, thoroughly impressed.
“They trained me very well.”
“Unlucky for them.”
“Time to go,” said Nick.
“Are you sure?” said Walid. “It’s still quite early.”
“Security is going to be tight and lengthy. If we go now, we’ll blend in with the mass of passengers. Waiting until last would attract more scrutiny.”
“Good point,” said Walid nervously.
“You go first and I’ll follow on in a few minutes. And remember, they don’t know you. They’re not looking for you, just me. Act casual.”
Walid checked himself in the mirror, picked up his bag and with a hug, wished Nick Allah’s blessings for the operation.
With that, he was gone, leaving Nick alone with his thoughts. Nick checked himself once more against the image in Kyle Johnson’s passport. It was a good match. Not a perfect one but whose passport photo ever was?
After waiting five minutes, he followed Walid’s lead and exited Room 410, without even a passing glance back towards Room 416. He pressed the ‘Call’ button and waited for the elevator. The doors opened, two passengers were already inside - a woman and a young boy. Nick stepped forward and smiled a good morning to them.
“Hey, Mister?” said the young boy, his American accent catching Nick’s attention more than it should have.
“Hey there,” said Nick, not wanting to appear unfriendly.
“Where you going, Mister?”
“Zach!” chastised his mother. “Don’t be so nosey.”
“Sorry,” said Zach. “We’re flying home to America.”
“Nice,” said Nick.
“We fly to Charlie…ot…”
“Charlotte?” said Nick helpfully.
“Yep, that’s it,” the boy said excitedly.
The doors pinged open in the lobby and his mother threw Nick an apologetic look as she rushed her out of the elevator.
Charlotte, thought Nick. Walid was flying to Charlotte. Everyone on Walid’s flight was going to die. It was one of the reasons Nick wanted to ensure he wasn’t on Walid’s flight. He couldn’t remember where every vial had been delivered but he did remember that one jihadist who had received a vial was on Walid’s flight.
Nick returned the wave to the young boy as his mother pushed him out of the hotel’s main doors.
Chapter 77
NCTC
The first thing Carson had done, after clearing the center of all non-military and cleared personnel, was to call off the Marines. On their final approach towards Frankfurt airport, he had called just in time to avoid the sight of three C130 US Military Hercules coming into view of the terminal building. His next call was to stand down the DCS team and get Karl Brunner on board with the plan. The plan being to let the terrorist Nick Geller, if he was indeed in the Frankfurt airport, board his plane and leave German soil. The conversation had been brief. Karl Brunner was delighted to let the arrest of the highly dangerous criminal happen somewhere other than in his airport.
The NSA agent had been incorrect in his guess at how many people were still in the center. There had been nine when the NSA agent left but another four left shortly after. Their clearance also fell short of the requirements to stay behind. Ideally, Carson would have carried out the rest of the operation from the Pentagon but with time critical, it was decided to stay and complete the mission from the NCTC while the investigation data that was never again to see the light of day was deleted by the program members who had accompanied Carson.
Even those who had been trusted with deleting the data were not fully aware of the scale of the operation underway. Carson retreated to his office and closed his door, then connected the video-conference equipment to Vice President Bob Hammond and National Security Adviser Liz Roberts.
“Harry,” greeted Vice President Hammond.
“Liz, Bob,” said Harry, acknowledging them and checking the line.
“How’d it go?” asked Bob.
“As well as can be expected,” said Harry. “They’ve worked around the clock, as hard as any team I’ve ever worked with.”
“Had to be done,” said Liz.
“How was Turner?” asked Bob.
“Pissed, with a capital P-I-S-S-E-D.”
“We’ll make it up to him,” promised Liz.
“So where are we?” asked Bob.
“If everything goes as we expect, Geller will be boarding in the next couple of hours. All assets are in place. On confirmation that he has boarded, I will, with the President’s final approval, initiate Operation Takedown.”
“Anything you need from us?” asked Bob.
“Just make sure the President’s ready and available to take my call.”
“Will do.”
Harry sat back in his chair as the screen went black. Taking a human life, no matter whose, was never an easy decision to make. Killing thousands was even more difficult but beyond that, the number just became a number. The decision to kill vast numbers had already been made.
The greater good, thought Carson, the greater good.
Chapter 78
Terminal 4
London Heathrow Airport
Omar joined the line for flight UA35 to Los Angeles. A large number of desks showed the flight number, ensuring quick progress as the amount of desk agents prevented the build-up of queuing passengers.
Approaching the desk, Omar handed over his passport and his booking reference, as instructed.
“Thank you, Mr. Perez,” said the check-in agent.
The man typed in Omar’s reference and hit a key that resulted in Omar’s boarding pass printing. A young woman to his left was checking in at the adjacent desk and looked across at him. She smiled, liking what she saw. Omar wasn’t sure if it was he or the very muscly desk agent that the young woman was smiling at. However, rather than be flattered, he was angry at the inappropriate way in which she was dressed. Her short skirt and low cut top were no way for a young woman to dress in public. Remembering his instructions, he forced a smile back.
The check-in agent had other ideas. He could hardly take his eyes off of the young woman. Neither, it seemed, could most of the men in close proximity. Pathetically weak, thought Omar, and exceptionally disrespectful. He would be teaching their whole kind a lesson they’d never forget. There was only one true God and the world was about to find out once and for all who that was.
He smiled at the check-in agent, pulling his eyes away as the young woman bent forward to place her bag on the scales.
“This is your boarding card. We’re having a few problems with the departure boards. This is the gate number you should go to, ignore what’s on the boards. The flight’s on time, so be sure to go straight through security as boarding will start
very soon,” he said, pointing to the number 25 he had written in thick red ink on Omar’s boarding pass.
Omar felt uneasy until he overheard the same conversation about the gate numbers with the young woman. He was checked in. He had his boarding pass and the flight was on time. That was all he needed to know. He spotted the sign that directed him to the restroom. He waited in a short line for a cubicle and, when he closed the door behind him, he withdrew the vial containing the virus. He noted the time and without a second’s pause for thought, injected the deadly virus into his body, whispering ‘Allahu Akbar’, as he pressed the plunger down.
As instructed, he flushed out the vial with a small bottle of bleach he had been given and then wrapped them both in toilet paper. He deposited the package in a bin as he exited the restroom. Next stop was security, where he breezed through without so much as a search. His US passport was working perfectly. Without it, he felt sure that his skin color would have elicited a body search.
Omar proceeded directly to the gate on his boarding pass where the plane was already filling up. He kept his eyes down and again was surprised at just how efficiently the line was moving. He spotted the young woman from check-in sitting nearby. He wondered why she wasn’t boarding but was quickly interrupted when the check-in agent called him forward.
“Mr. Perez?” he said, recognizing Omar and taking his boarding pass. “First aisle, second row on your right, window seat,” he said with a smile.
Omar stepped on board and avoided eye contact with anyone, just kept his head down and his eyes to himself.
“Excuse me,” he said, climbing over two men who were occupying the seats next to him. Both had their eyes closed as though they were sleeping. He wondered if they were jihadists like him. He doubted it. There were only supposed to be a few on each plane. It was still early in the morning and not surprisingly, most people would be trying to catch some more sleep. He sat down, buckled his seat belt and, as instructed, he closed his eyes like everyone around him and tried to get some sleep.
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