Chain Reaction

by Don Pendleton

  Brewster clutched at Bolan’s sleeve as a spasm of pain coursed through him.

  “Hegre has this deal all worked out. They plan to transport the diamonds to Hong Kong...pass on to an end buyer in Philippines...make a killing...that’s all I overheard.”

  The effort pushed Brewster over the edge. When he fell silent this time, Bolan found his vital signs had flatlined. Pulse and respiration gone. He rose to his feet and turned away, catching Mitchell’s gaze. He shook his head.

  “Did he say anything?” she asked when he joined her.

  “A lead. Maybe.”

  Bolan called Stony Man on his secure cell phone. Price answered and Bolan picked up on her concern.

  “I’m fine,” he said in answer to her question.

  “You would say that if both your arms had been blown off.”

  “I can tell you they’re both intact and in good working order. Now patch me through to Bear.”

  “Kurtzman here. Fire away,” he said. Then added, “Sorry. In your circumstances that may have been an inappropriate remark.”

  “Make up for it by doing some hard checking. Anything and everything concerning Iran and uranium from Kazakhstan. And look into any intel on a diamond heist in Australia.”

  “Slightly bizarre combination but interesting. I guess you want the express response?”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “I’ll put the Boy Wonder on it. Nothing he likes better than a puzzle request.”

  Bolan knew the cyberteam would work its magic. If anyone could pull digital rabbits out of imaginary hats, Kurtzman’s people would do it.

  * * *

  THE FBI DESCENDED within a couple of hours, a pair of Bureau helicopters swooping in and disgorging armed agents. They surrounded the house and swept the area. Mitchell went out to brief them. SAC Duncan had given the order she was still in charge. Bolan stood back and watched her direct the clean up operation. She handled it with confidence, and he could see why Duncan had so much faith in her abilities. The only moment she faltered was when Jake Bermann was removed from the house, even though the man was in a closed body bag. She showed no remorse at all when Brewster was taken out; she had made her stance known and refused to think any differently; Bolan could sympathize with her—Brewster had turned against everything the FBI stood for, had betrayed his fellow agents by accepting money from the very criminal organization the Bureau was fighting.

  Duncan called, informing Bolan he was already inbound from Washington and would attend the scene ASAP. An FBI regional mobile-command center had shown up, establishing a base for the FBI teams working the scene, and once that was in motion Bolan and Mitchell stood down. She designated one of the agents to handle things while she took a break. Despite her professional attitude, Bolan could see she was under some stress though she was attempting to conceal the fact. He had one of the agents drive him to his vehicle and recover Mitchell’s. They returned them to the crime scene. The area was a hive of activity as the Bureau teams processed the house and surrounding grounds. The FBI worked with practiced efficiency, the next couple of hours full of activity.

  Bolan kept an eye on Mitchell. She was back directing operations, but a couple of times he noticed her standing alone and looking a little lost. The violent action of their encounter was most likely the worst incident of her Bureau career. High-intensity shooting matches were not an everyday occurrence in the FBI.

  Bolan had a quiet word with one of the agents. The man saw Bolan’s point and told him he would step in until Duncan showed up. The Executioner spoke to Mitchell. At first she refused to leave the site, but eventually she gave in to his persuasion. He drove them back along the highway to Treebone. Mitchell sat quietly beside him, gazing out the window and not saying much. Bolan parked up at a local diner, overrode her protests and made her go inside for a coffee and some downtime. She made a half-hearted objection but that didn’t last long once she smelled the aroma of coffee.

  Bolan had removed his tactical gear, stowing it in the rear of the SUV, pulling his leather jacket on over his black clothing and Mitchell had produced a plain wind breaker from her SUV so they at least looked like an ordinary couple in need of a break.

  Bolan ordered coffee for them as they settled in an empty booth. He sat across from Mitchell and watched as she buried her head in the mug, savoring the hot brew. As she set the mug on the table and leaned back, Bolan could see the tension slip away. She glanced up at him, a tired smile on her lips.

  “Yeah, okay, that coffee was just what I needed.”

  Bolan nodded. “Always take the doc’s advice.”

  “So now you’re a doctor. Anything else I need to know about you, Cooper?”

  “All in good time,” Bolan said.

  Mitchell ran a finger across the rim of her coffee cup, knowing what she wanted to say, finding it hard to say. She had always followed Bureau lines, stayed within the parameters the FBI hammered into its agents. But right now she had to step beyond them because there was something going on that transcended normal policy. The recent events had made her lose some degree of faith in her profession. She admitted she was probably overreacting, but she was unable to push aside what Brewster had done. Bad enough he had worked against the FBI. The deaths of two of her team, men she had worked with and had trusted, had compounded that betrayal. It had made her see the world from a different angle.

  Apart from SAC Duncan, the only man she could trust right now was Cooper.

  Matt Cooper had already saved her life, kept her alive and had talked a lot of sense.

  “This can’t end here, Cooper. Hegre is still operating. Still out of our reach. And I’m not so sure, right now, that the Bureau is capable of doing anything about that.”

  “The FBI makes its decisions based on the rules. I don’t. I work my side of the street by acting on intel, sometimes hunches. Duncan believes I break every rule that exists. He’s probably correct, but my approach gets the results I need.”

  “Cooper, you’re just a Lone Ranger at heart.”

  “I forgot my mask today. Hey, I need to make a call,” Bolan said. “If there’s something to uncover, we’ll find it.”

  “Should I close my eyes and look the other way? Hands my over ears while I sing la-la-la?”

  “Only if you want some funny looks. Order some more coffee. Maybe something to eat. I’ll be back.”

  Bolan slid out of the booth and walked to the door, retrieving his cell phone from his pocket. Mitchell watched him go, a thin smile on her lips. She caught the server’s eye and beckoned to her.

  “Two more coffees. What’s the best thing on the menu?”

  “Honey, the boss would tell you everything on the menu is the best. Take my advice and stick to steak, eggs and hash browns. Those he can cook.”

  “For two,” Mitchell said. “And thanks for the advice.”

  * * *

  BOLAN HAD KURTZMAN on his cell phone.

  “Any results, Bear? You guys worked your magic yet?”

  “Akira’s trawling picked up on that Australian angle. There was a recent theft of diamonds from one of the mines in the Northern Territories. One hell of a haul. At a conservative estimate the cops figure the haul to be worth in excess of $80 million in uncut stones. Akira hacked into the police database and found out there was a hijacking on the highway between the mining area and Alice Springs. One of those Aussie road-trains was stopped on the road, the crew gunned down. The doors on one of the containers were blown open. Nothing on the manifest was taken.

  “Then the local police at the mining company homed in on one of the employees taking off unannounced. He must have panicked when the cops started questioning employees. They picked him up on the highway, chased him and the guy lost control. He ended up in the local hospital with two broken legs, smashed ribs and a fractured shoulder. The
y found a stash of uncut diamonds in his luggage. His pay for the job. It seems he’d been contracted by Hegre to filter off diamonds from a number of batches between being lifted from the mine and weighed up. He was a production foreman and had a gambling and drinking problem. In debt up to his ears. Hegre paid him to arrange the thefts. He hid the cache in a metal toolbox and had it added to the road train cargo. All this came out in the hospital. The guy couldn’t wait to confess once the cops confronted him with the evidence.”

  “How were the diamonds taken out of the country?”

  “The guy came clean on that. Pretty slick operation. The heist team simply drove across country. Two thousand miles plus, to the coast and the diamonds were to be placed on a freighter out of Port Hedland on the Australian West coast.”

  “Any trace on where the cache was heading?”

  “The guy didn’t know that. Or the name of the ship.”

  “Damn.”

  “Don’t give up so easily, Striker. I have more.”

  “You found the ship?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, my friend. Our young master of the cyber universe ran checks on all the vessels that left Port Hedland in the timeline we had and has come up with the answer you will love.”

  Kurtzman explained how the tracking had been achieved and Bolan chalked one up to Akira Tokaido, the youngest member of Kurtzman’s cyberteam.

  “Only three ships left the port in the timeframe we were looking at. Akira ran in-depth checks on them. Ownership. Destinations. Arrival dates. Two were quickly discounted. The third turned out to be the one we wanted. The Echo Rose, registered in Manila. She’s had more owners than you can shake a stick at. The tramp of all tramp ships. She carries mixed cargoes of every shape and size all round the region. When Akira ran his check on who has her papers currently, he hit a spiderweb of fake titles and shaky companies. All covers for the real owner of the Echo Rose.”

  “Hegre?”

  “Very loose connection, but the buck does stop at the Hegre corporation. Akira logged into the ship’s manifest. The Echo Rose was on a cargo run that would take her up through the Timor Sea, delivering cargo all the way up to Hong Kong and Kowloon.”

  “Ties in with what Brewster said before he died. Hong Kong and Kowloon.”

  “Brewster?”

  “A bought agent. Joseph Brewster. We might be looking at other leaks.”

  “Other insiders?”

  “Anything and everything, Aaron. We have names from last time around. Start to pull strands together.”

  “On it.”

  When Bolan went back inside, his food had just been delivered. He glanced at the enormous platter then across at Mitchell. She was enjoying her meal.

  “Are we eating for the whole diner?”

  Mitchell smiled. “A big guy like you needs his food.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to do any running for the next couple of days.”

  “So?” Mitchell asked.

  Bolan knew what she was angling for. It was time to update her on his talk with Stony Man.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Hegre is involved in a deal to supply uranium for the Iranians. I don’t have the full details, but it looks likely the stuff came from Kazakhstan. Hegre will do the deal on behalf of the Iranian connection. Iran finds it difficult to buy uranium on the open market, especially since the nuclear deal it struck with the six world powers. Once Iran’s name comes up, most countries back away. Hegre steps in and does the buy for them, shunts it around locations until they can finally ship it to Iran undercover. The stolen diamonds help Hegre raise plenty of cash for working the deal, and they’ll get it back in triplicate once the client pays up.” Bolan added, “Hegre lost a big load of cash when a North Korean deal went sour. The diamond heist will have helped boost their reserves.”

  “Not if we could take it away from them,” Mitchell said.

  Bolan did not fail to pick up on the we. The look on Mitchell’s face told him that she was not joking. The FBI agent, already deep into the Hegre mythology, was as committed to the organization’s downfall as Bolan. She had already proved her worth under fire and she had a sharp brain. Her unflinching attitude was well suited to Bolan’s way of operating.

  “Hong Kong isn’t downtown U.S.A.,” he pointed out.

  “Don’t you believe I can handle it?”

  “I do. I’m not so sure China can.”

  Mitchell smiled across Bolan’s shoulder as she spotted a familiar figure crossing the diner’s parking lot.

  “Here’s someone else who probably feels the same,” she said, watching as SAC Drake Duncan pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  He spotted them and made his way to where they were sitting.

  “Sir,” Mitchell said.

  “They told me you two had headed out for some peace and quiet,” Duncan said, not unkindly.

  “That was my idea,” Bolan said.

  “I’m not complaining.” Duncan surveyed the meals they were eating. “Looks good. I haven’t eaten all damn day.”

  Bolan waved the server over and ordered a meal for Duncan, adding a request for more coffee.

  “Coffee would be good,” Duncan said. “My head is still reeling after that flight from Washington. I got the go-ahead to get a flight courtesy of the Air Force. And I thought regular airlines moved fast.”

  Bolan ran through what they had learned about Hegre, the diamonds and the uranium. Duncan listened patiently.

  His coffee arrived and he sipped it.

  “Good,” he said. He looked from Bolan, to Mitchell, his thoughts almost visible as he digested the information. “I am getting the feeling there’s something unspoken, and I’m certain I’m not going be too happy about it.”

  To his credit SAC Duncan did not explode with righteous anger as Bolan brought him up-to-date. He remained silent as Bolan gave him the details of Stony Man’s revelations, though he refrained from revealing his information source. The FBI man only glanced at Mitchell a couple of times as he absorbed what Bolan had to say, especially when the soldier asked for Mitchell to be allowed to accompany him on the mission.

  Mitchell remained silent, for once holding back from making any kind of remarks, facetious or otherwise. She realized the big man was in her corner and his quiet stating of the facts got his request listened to and considered without there being any raised voices or impassioned pleading.

  When Bolan had finished Duncan leaned back, catching the server’s eye and asked for more coffee.

  “I need this,” he said when the coffee had been delivered. “Truth be told I could do with a splash of whisky in it.”

  “If we want to take advantage of this,” Bolan said, “we need to move. A flight to Hong Kong should allow us to be there when that ship docks.”

  “To do what?”

  “Ideally take that cache of diamonds away from Hegre, stop them from rebuilding their cash stores and try to get a line on where the uranium is.”

  “That all sounds damn fanciful to me.”

  “There’s always Lise Delaware,” Mitchell said quietly.

  “I understand your need to settle this because of your dead teammates,” Duncan said. “The FBI does not go in for personal vengeance, Agent Mitchell—Sarah.”

  Mitchell took a breath. “Sir, Hegre is the cause of those deaths. They need to take responsibility for them. In a court of law if possible. We’re talking about a major criminal organization here. One that uses bribery of law enforcement officials and anyone they can get their hands on to protect their interests. Who murder at will.”

  “You make a good case,” Duncan said. “You have the means to get to your destination, Cooper?”

  Bolan nodded. “Yes.”

  Duncan shook his head. “I must be crazy to al
low this. If it backfires, Sarah, we’ll both be out of a job. If anyone asks, you’re on special assignment, undercover and out of contact.” He threw up his hands. “What the hell am I doing? Just get out of here, the pair of you, before I get all righteous and lock you both up.”

  * * *

  MITCHELL DROVE WHILE Bolan contacted Hal Brognola, director of the Sensitive Operations Group, whose base was at Stony Man Farm.

  “Are you sure about this?” Brognola asked after Bolan had laid out his next move.

  “Hegre is leaving a trail of bodies while they wheel and deal. FBI agents, truckers in Australia, and there’s the possibility of a deal with Iran for uranium. Hegre needs to be shut down, put out of business for good.”

  “I should know better than to even question what you’re up to. Tell me what you need. Barb will arrange to have tickets ready for you at Seattle-Tacoma airport. We have your photo, and Aaron will access Mitchell’s from the FBI database. I’ll have passports couriered to you by first thing tomorrow morning and left at the hotel desk.”

  “Hotel?”

  “We’ll book you in for an overnight stay. Details on which hotel will follow.”

  “Have Andy Chen meet us at the airport in Hong Kong. We’ll have to leave weapons behind. In the SUV. I’ll leave the key at reception.”

  Chen was a contact Bolan had used before.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll have a pickup arranged. Chen will be able to get you ordnance once you arrive and a satellite phone.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Keep in touch, Striker. You know how Hegre operates, so stay on your toes.”

  “I have good backup on this.”

  “And more at home.”

  “Watch yourselves.”

  “Good backup?” Mitchell said as Bolan ended the call. “Was that about me?”

  “Do you always eavesdrop?”

  Mitchell smiled. “Only if it matters.”

  “It matters.”

  “Then thanks.”

  “Keep your eyes peeled for a shopping mall,” Bolan said.