Mark Midway Box Set: Mark One, Mark Two, Mark Three, and Mark Four

by John Hindmarsh

  “Gilmore’s senior position means they will arrange a replacement—”

  Jones interrupted. “Yes. Yes. We’ll need to check whether he has any material in his office that is potentially dangerous for us. I’ll take responsibility for that task.”

  “Do you think it’s prudent to have someone penetrate his office?” asked Dr. White.

  “I’ll make sure the team is aware of the need for extreme caution. Of course it may already be too late. With people like Freewell and Schmidt, we need to plan for the unlikely,” said Jones.

  “Granted,” said Dr. White.

  “Anything else?” asked Davis.

  “What about Midway? Or Darrow, as he now calls himself? He’ll probably change his name again—he must realize we have details of his latest identity,” said Jones.

  “What do you think?” asked Dr. White.

  “We should take action now,” said Jones.

  “I’d advise caution. We’ve three enemies in Midway, Schmidt, and Freewell, and Kelly’s their equal. Do we want the three—or four —of them combined, searching for us?” asked Davis.

  “I think we already have that situation. At the very least, we should remove Midway,” replied Jones.

  “I’d bounce that to the Chairman for his input,” suggested Dr. White.

  “Very well,” agreed Davis. Jones nodded his head.

  “Now what about the blue team’s actions—any negatives? Positives?” asked Davis.

  “They did a good job. Cleaned everything, removed traces of our involvement—at least, according to our Boston network,” said Jones. “Rescuing an FBI agent from a situation like that might win us some friends, as well.”

  “Do you think the team acted too soon? Too late?” Jones was covering all possibilities for his summary; supervision of the blue team’s assignment had been his responsibility, after all.

  “Gilmore’s alive, although in a serious condition. If the blue team had acted earlier, there was a chance Bergman would’ve shot him,” commented Davis. “I think their timing was optimal.”

  “Seconded,” said Dr. White.

  “Good. Well, we’ve enough to send to the Chairman,” concluded Jones. His two associates agreed, and they finished their meeting. As they were leaving the conference room, one of the senior aides approached the trio.

  “The Chairman’s calling on a secure line—he’s on video,” he said. “I’ll set up the connection for you.”

  “Thank you,” said Dr. White. The three senior executives returned to the seats around the conference table and waited while the aide linked in the call from Bermuda.

  “You’re all there?” asked the Chairman as the aide left the room. “Good.” He did not waste time on pleasantries. “We’ve a problem. A month ago, the skipper of the Hammer dismissed one of our crew. He underpaid the man, which created some dissatisfaction, as you would imagine. The ex-crewman had information to sell and he tried to market it to various parties. Schmidt heard about it. The ex-crewman met with Schmidt and Freewell in the BVIs yesterday. A sniper killed him while he was negotiating with them. Did any of you authorize that action?”

  The three looked at each other and then back at the video screen. “No, sir,” replied Dr. White. The two men shook their heads.

  “I’ve received a copy of a Navy action report—the sniper escaped in a fast motor boat. The Navy sent a helicopter to intercept, the fugitives fired on it and of course, the helicopter crew retaliated. I’m trying to get more details—the Navy recovered bodies, apparently. Are you sure you know nothing about this?” The denials were unanimous.

  “Absolutely.”

  “The first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Totally outside my scope.”

  The Chairman continued, “Well, this could be critical. I don’t know what information this ex-crewman was trying to sell, but if it attracted Schmidt and Freewell, it was of major importance. So I have a number of questions. One, what was for sale? Two, who was behind the sniper attack? I suppose the third question is: did Schmidt and Freewell succeed in obtaining this information? I want you to use whatever resources might be necessary to obtain answers to these questions, as quickly as you can.”

  “Do you have any idea what information’s involved?” asked Davis.

  “No, unfortunately. Also, I need a new skipper for the Hammer. Get our resources people onto that, for me. See if we have anyone within the organization who has relevant skills, otherwise they can recruit from outside. They need to move quickly; otherwise I’ll have to cancel some meetings. We should look at crewing the yacht from our internal resources, anyway. Now tell me, what’s happening?”

  At the end of the impromptu briefing, the Chairman said, “No, don’t bring Midway in—we need to find out what information Schmidt has, and we need to let the dust settle from the blue team activities. Another action now in Boston will attract too much attention. Monitor Midway. Don’t alert him. We need to know where he is, what he’s doing, who his associates are. Davis, I think you should brief a red team for this.”

  ~~~

  Mark had just finished packing the clothes he had selected for a one-week stay at the Kelly’s when Sam knocked on his apartment door. He opened the door and invited her in.

  “I’ve been worried,” said Sam. “I know you don’t carry a cell phone, but you should call me occasionally.”

  “Events just hit us, one after the other. You’ll probably see it on the next television news session. Julian’s security chief was killed early this morning, and we have FBI agents everywhere. As a result, I have a bodyguard for the day. Sam, this is Agent Treloar. Agent Treloar, Sam. Sam is a very good friend of mine.”

  Sam and the FBI agent exchanged greetings.

  “Julian wants me to stay with them for a week, while they get their security sorted. Oh, and he said he’d invite you all to dinner, this Friday.”

  “I’m confused, Mark,” said Sam. “Why are you involved?”

  The FBI agent stepped in. “Ma’am, this young man has been assisting us. He helped keep the Kelly family safe, last night. He did a very good job.” Treloar was a firm supporter of Mark; he had been one of the team that rescued the Director from her kidnappers, and was aware of Mark’s role—all of the unit held both Schmidt and Mark in high regard. Mark, however, had not wanted Sam to be aware of so much detail.

  Sam’s expression was a mixture of surprise and worry. “But—Mark’s a computer student; he’s not involved in law enforcement.”

  “I did an accelerated law enforcement course last year—actually it was a course that one of RDEz’s subsidiaries was running. I’ve worked before with the FBI, as well. Don’t worry.” He reached out and gave Sam a hug. “The bad stuff’s over, now, with Bergman out of the scene.”

  Sam was unconvinced. “Are you sure? Why do you have an FBI bodyguard if all the bad stuff is over?”

  Treloar smiled sympathetically at Mark, as if to say—‘let me see you get out of this’. However, Mark avoided the main issue. “It’s just a precaution. These agents will be in Boston for only a few days. Correct, Agent Treloar?”

  “Yes, sir. Sam, I agree with Mark. The bad stuff is over for the Kelly family, now that this Bergman’s out of the picture. We should be back in Washington by the end of the week.”

  Sam was only partly mollified and her worried expression remained. “Let me know if you need any help from me or Evan. And stay safe, please.”

  “I will. Don’t forget to pass on Julian’s invitation to your brother. And say ‘Hi’ from me to him and Katrina. Now we’d better go or everyone will wonder what’s happened to us.” He gave Sam another hug, lifted his suitcase onto its rollers and then ushered her and the agent out of his apartment.

  ~~~

  Schmidt had to acknowledge that Maeve and her analysts had succeeded in totally surprising him. He explained to MayAnn after he finished his conference call with his analytic team.

  “I think they’ve started to use black magic instead of s
oftware,” he said.

  MayAnn was bemused. “What makes you think that?”

  “They are linking Bergman, Gilmore and Cerberus.”

  “What? How did they do that?” She leaned on her elbows and stared across the desk at Schmidt.

  “I’m not sure. Their analytic processes are now well beyond my comprehension. Maeve says there is an 85 percent probability that Bergman was responsible for kidnapping and torturing Gilmore, although she and her team don’t know why. What’s more alarming is she says there is a 90 percent probability that Cerberus rescued him. And if her analysts are correct, there’s also a 90 percent probability that Cerberus was responsible for killing Bergman.”

  ***

  Chapter 11

  MayAnn had taken possession of an empty office at One Center Plaza and was working through Gilmore’s files while Schmidt was continuing his research into Cerberus. The death of the Australian still worried him, and he had added further investigation of that event to his action list. He had read and re-read the Navy report more than a dozen times. It did not make immediate sense. If his assessment was correct, a totally new and unexpected player was also searching for Cerberus.

  “Does this remind you of anyone?”

  He handed one of the accompanying photos across the desk to MayAnn; it was of one of the dead men, either the sniper, or the driver of the fleeing motor boat.

  MayAnn studied the image for almost a minute. “It looks like the Singaporean who attended the course with Mark and me—what’s his name—Lee, Lee Yu. That was last year and I’m guessing.”

  Schmidt handed across the Immigration fingerprint search results. “Snap—Lee Yu.”

  MayAnn’s head shot up. “What? You’re sure?”

  “Some friends of mine in DHS did a search of immigration records, using fingerprints from the dead bodies. Lee’s been to the US a number of times, but has no entries recently. They had no information on the second person.”

  DHS had supplied an image of Lee Yu extracted from their immigration records and Schmidt passed that across, as well. MayAnn examined the fingerprint identification document and the additional photograph.

  “Open and shut,” said MayAnn. “What the hell does it mean?”

  Schmidt passed over his next sheet of paper. “Navy says there was a Chinese research vessel, the Fahsien, on station a further twenty miles out, south, towards Suriname. Apparently Fahsien was a monk who did a lot of traveling, they say, back a thousand years or so. Their assumption is the motor boat was heading to the research vessel for pick up. A reasonable guess.”

  “So the Chinese knew about the files, do you think?”

  “Or the Singaporeans. He was Singaporean, remember. The question is—why kill the Australian?”

  “Hmm. Perhaps there were multiple copies of the files for sale? And they didn’t want you or anyone else to get one?”

  “Murky waters. Either way, it opens up questions.”

  “Yes. My brain’s humming. Whether it’s China or Singapore, the questions are the same. Why? What do they expect to gain? Are they targeting our mystery organization, or the politicians?”

  “Whoever—it seems they’ve managed to gain knowledge about this Cerberus.”

  “The question is how much they’ve discovered,” said MayAnn.

  “I think Cerberus is far more than a collection of renegade soldiers, killing off rogue CIA agents. I haven’t checked with Maeve and her team, but I think there’s a 70 percent probability they’re engaged in genetic engineering.”

  “What? You really think they’re into some kind of DNA manipulation?”

  “Perhaps more than that. Otherwise, how could they know Mark needed treatment when they held him captive? You remember, he had those crippling growth pains.”

  “Aah—you ask difficult questions. So you suspect these people are developing—what—super soldiers?”

  “We know LifeLong was doing just that. Mark is someone else’s early attempt. Otherwise, why was Cerberus so interested in Mark? They didn’t kidnap him from our safe house just because they liked the color of his eyes.”

  “Hmm. I’ve focused more on their penetration of the FBI and deletion of our records. Your view is more challenging. More frightening.” MayAnn frowned.

  Schmidt continued, “Longer term, without doubt, the target of Chinese interest would be Cerberus, not the politicians on that list. Imagine if a foreign country took control of an organization in the US which has thousands of members—in the Armed Forces, CIA, NSA, FBI, perhaps politicians. If, as I suspect, Cerberus is engaged in genetic engineering, they could also steal their research files. Imagine thousands of genetically engineered Chinese soldiers.”

  “I don’t think I want to play with you, anymore.”

  “We need a lot more information about Cerberus’s size and ability. Just remember, my conjectures are not for release to anyone—not to Oliver, not to anyone in the FBI.”

  “Whoa! I’m not sure—”

  “MayAnn, we are nibbling at the edge of what could be a major scandal. Politicians may be involved. Cerberus has carried out possible terrorist activities, penetrating and impacting all of our military services and security organizations. If we can obtain direct evidence, and it has a National Security bias, then yes, we’ll bring in Oliver—immediately. What are you going to say to him at this point—’Schmidt thinks there’s an organization breeding super soldiers and the Chinese are interested?’ He’d have both of us locked away.”

  “I see your point.” MayAnn handed back the documents.

  “Besides, I’m keeping the President informed. He’s concerned, of course, although he thinks I might be exaggerating the worst-case scenarios. Fortunately, Maeve balances my worst case scenarios—she makes them even worse.”

  “I’d like to listen to some of your meetings.”

  “I’ve told you more than I should.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “Come and work for me.”

  “No,” said MayAnn. “I think work and our relationship would conflict even more.”

  “So I can’t make an honest woman out of you while we continue working together?”

  “Certainly not. However, ask me again next year. Or when this is all over.”

  Schmidt returned to his task of examining the contents of the Navy and Homeland Security reports, hoping to discover more information from the details provided by both the Navy’s CIS and DHS. He started from the beginning again, leafing through the pages, re-reading sections, until he had memorized it all, word for word. He thought the BVIs CID Inspector could tell him if Lee Yu had entered the islands legally, and whether he carried a Chinese or Singaporean passport. He had the Inspector’s business card, somewhere. He continued to weigh the risks. Eventually he found the card and made the call.

  “Inspector, I’d like to make a trade with you. I’ll give you a name of a suspect for the sniper attack. Our Navy recovered his body shortly after he fled. I’d like to know which country’s passport he used to enter the BVIs. The suspect’s name is Lee Yu.”

  He listened to the Inspector. “Yes, always assuming he made a legal entry, or used his real name. He may have had associates on Tortola—if so, I’d recommend you take extreme care if you approach them. Very good. Thank you, Inspector.”

  MayAnn was watching him.

  “He’ll call back once he’s managed to get their immigration people to check. It could take a day or two. How are you with your file deep-diving?”

  “Nothing grabs me. Gilmore was well organized. There’s some routine stuff, and of course that recent bombing. There are some secure files I can’t open so I’ll need passwords and encryption keys for those. He has a good team working on the bombing prosecution; I’ll arrange a briefing session with them, tomorrow. A couple of teams are pursuing other areas that may develop, but as I said, it all seems routine except for those encrypted files. What are you planning?”

  “I need to talk with Maeve, to give her these updat
es,” he indicated the Navy report. “I also have the thread of an idea and want to reflect on it for a while. Do you want my people to open the secure files?”

  “Yes, that would save time. Now talk to me about your idea.”

  “What if we persuaded Mark to infiltrate Cerberus?”

  “I didn’t know we were still throwing Christians to the lions?” She shook her head.

  “That’s the stumbling block. Although with Mark, the lions might be the ones at risk.”

  “Your idea needs a lot more reflection.”

  “I know.”

  ~~~

  Mark patiently accompanied Paula whenever she ventured out of the apartment, and for the first two days, an FBI agent went with them. Winter’s security people then commenced their contract and replaced the FBI team. Mark was looking forward to the end of the week, when he could return to his apartment and resume his trouble-free life. He smiled at the thought. If only it was trouble-free.

  While he was in the Kelly’s apartment, Mark continued to tap into and explore video files from cameras located on Boston streets. The identity of whoever had murdered Bergman remained a mystery. Gilmore, still in intensive care, had not yet regained consciousness, and neither the FBI nor local Boston police had made any progress in identifying Bergman’s killer. Mark decided he would take up the challenge—it was something he could do while he was at the Kelly apartment. Additionally, he had a strong feeling that whenever he ventured out, either alone or with Paula, he was being followed or monitored; he realized that might be a sign of paranoia, but it could also be reality.

  His search programs were slowly producing results—he had discovered details of the ambulance that had delivered Gilmore to the Boston Medical Center. Cameras at the Center had not helped his search so he decided to explore ALPR, traffic light, and other street camera files from the time the vehicle left the hospital, gradually extending the perimeter of his search outwards from that location. His programs accessed hundreds of files and he had improved his search algorithms until the software was running without manual intervention. Every so often his software, whenever it discovered a trace of the ambulance, would mark a file and copy the vehicle image. It was accumulating a substantial quantity of images as a result, progressively identifying the path taken by the vehicle as it returned to its base. At last the search process stopped; it had reached the end of the long queue of files.