When Shadows Call

by Ernest Dempsey

  Adriana blended in with the masses and let the momentum of the group carry her to the doorway. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the British version of a SWAT team enter the building off to the right through a maintenance door. Instinctively, she lowered her head as she passed through the exit and out into the rainy London day.

  More police were outside, hurriedly corralling people away from the building. She followed the group for a moment and then made a sharp right. It didn’t take long for her to reach her car. Getting out of the area, on the other hand, took a great deal of patience. She waited in the thick traffic for nearly half an hour until she was finally able to get clear of the mayhem.

  Once the mall was out of sight, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She imagined the cops finding the dead bodies in the stairwell and wondered what they’d piece together from the crime scene. More than that, she was curious about the two shooters who’d managed to escape. Clearly, they weren’t Youssef’s men. So, who were they? Why’d they show up when they did? The more she thought about it, the more Adriana came to one conclusion: Someone else had targeted Youssef. It was the only explanation.

  She pieced together the facts in her head.

  The men showed up shortly after she did. According to the conversation with his men, Youssef’s guards believed they were being followed. That meant they might have called for backup. The plausibility of that argument vanished when the new gunmen blew away Youssef.

  If they were there to help, it was highly unlikely they’d have been so free with the triggers.

  No, the more Adriana thought about it, the more she believed someone else had targeted Youssef.

  Then there was the matter of the phone call and text message he’d received immediately after being killed. Was it the person responsible for the hit?

  There was only one way to find out.

  8

  London

  Adriana rapped on the door again and took a step back. She waited for nearly a minute before she knocked again, this time with more fervor.

  “Open up, Ray. I know you’re in there,” she said with her face pressed close to the door.

  Ray lived in Holloway, an inner-city section of town. He rented a small townhouse in a rundown neighborhood where prices were low and so were the expectations. It wasn’t that Ray didn’t have money. As far as Adriana knew, the guy was loaded. He could have easily afforded much more luxurious accommodations. She guessed he didn’t go for that because he wanted to keep up the appearance of being poor, which would help mask what he did for money.

  He was eccentric like that.

  The sound of three locks being undone preceded the door cracking just wide enough for the man inside to peek through the sliver.

  “What do you want?” he asked. He sounded like he’d just woken up.

  “Were you asleep? It’s three in the afternoon.”

  “I work late hours. What are you doing here?”

  “I need your help,” she said. Her head turned side to side. She’d been on full alert since leaving the mall and wouldn’t feel safe until she was out of the open. Even then, she probably wouldn’t feel that safe.

  “The last time you needed my help, I nearly ended up dead.”

  “I know and I’m sorry, but you made money. A lot of money.”

  “Loads of cash don’t do you much good if you’re dead.”

  She sighed. “I know. Look, I’m working on something important. I can’t tell you what it is, but I can’t do it without you. You’re the best hacker in the city.”

  “Pfft. City. I’m the best in the country, probably on the continent.”

  “Right. Which is why I’m here.” She held up the phone so he could see it.

  “Please. If you don’t help me find out what’s on this, a lot of innocent people could die.”

  He hesitated for a second, and then the door closed. Adriana was about to knock on it again when she heard a deadbolt slide free once more, then a chain get unhooked, and then two more deadbolts.

  Finally, the door swung open. Ray stood on the other side with eyes narrow like slits and pale skin that looked like it hadn’t seen the sun in a decade. He was skinny and short, an inch or two shorter than Adriana. Veins popped on his arms and neck showing that, while he was certainly not a big guy, he did have some muscles. Adriana remembered him claiming to be wiry, though she wasn’t sure how useful he’d be in a fight.

  “What is it?” he asked, staring at the device in her hand.

  “Um…it’s a phone, Ray.”

  “Okay, first of all, I know it’s a phone. Second, don’t call me that. You know I don’t like my name.”

  “Yeah, but are you really going to make me call you by that silly hacker nickname you came up with?”

  “You know what? I think we’re closed. Thanks for stopping by.”

  He started to close the door in her face. Adriana reached out and stopped it with her palm.

  “Okay, fine. A…Tak. I need to find out what’s on this phone. The voice mails, texts, contacts, all of it. I can’t get into it because it’s password protected.”

  He peered out of the dark home at her with a dubious expression. “That doesn’t sound like your usual sort of request. Who does it belong to? Old boyfriend? High-ranking government official? No, you know, I’m gonna go with boyfriend. You have that crazy look in your eye, like you found out he was sleeping with someone when you were together and now you want revenge. That about right?”

  She shoved the door open. The force knocked him back a few steps. She walked into the house and closed the door behind her.

  “No. Not even close. This phone belonged to a guy who had connections to known terrorists. I’m trying to find out who and what he knows and what they’re planning.”

  The smart-aleck grin on Ray’s face turned sour. “Whoa, wait a minute. Are you working for some government…thing?”

  “It’s probably better that you don’t know. Look, can you crack the phone or not?”

  He snorted and stepped around her to lock the door. “Can I crack it? Please. Of course I can, but what’s in it for me? Last thing I need is some government suits breathing down my neck for hacking into people’s phones.” His eyes wandered to the device again. “Who did you say that belonged to?”

  “I didn’t. And he’s dead, so don’t worry about it.”

  Ray’s eyes widened. “Dead? You killed him?”

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t kill him. He was murdered.”

  Her host suddenly looked terrified. “And you thought it would be a good idea to come here? I don’t know about you, but I like not being dead.” He pulled back the curtains and looked out through a window near the door. “Were you followed?”

  “No, Ray…I mean, no. You know what, that’s a stupid nickname. Everyone else may like it, but I’m not calling you that. I wasn’t followed. And as to what’s in it for you, money; Ray. I will pay you. That sound good? Of course, maybe you’re too scared to try it. Sounds like someone is losing their touch. Perhaps you’re not the hacker I thought you were.”

  Adriana stepped toward the door and started unlocking the deadbolts.

  “Now, hold on a second,” he said, stepping in front of her. “How much money?”

  Ray could always be bought for the right price. It was something Adriana had known since the first time they met.

  “Why do you care? You don’t buy anything, at least not from the looks of this place.”

  He let out another short laugh. “I have bills to pay, needs to be met. That’s none of your concern. What is your concern is how much you’re going to pay me to get into that little device.”

  She reached in her jacket and produced a stack of bills wrapped in a rubber band. “This should get you started,” she said. “And finished.”

  “How much is that?” he asked, taking the stack of money.

  “Count it later if you want. I don’t care. It’s more than you’ll make in a year.”

&nbs
p; “I do pretty well, thank you very much.”

  She handed him the phone. “Get me into this, and there might be more where that came from.”

  He glanced down at the device and then back up into her eyes. “Let’s have a look then, shall we?”

  A minute later, Ray was sitting at a cluttered workstation in the back corner of what Adriana assumed was a living room. An old couch was buried underneath a stack of empty pizza boxes, newspapers, software containers, and a bunch of other junk.

  “With the money I’m paying you, you could get a maid to clean up this place,” she said with disdain.

  “I’m not getting a maid.” He reached into a bin that had a pile of wires and other gizmos in it. He removed a little gadget with a wire connected to it and plugged it into the phone, then stuck the other end into a USB port on his laptop. He swiveled his chair a few inches to the right and then started typing away on his computer.

  “A lot of people out there do this manually. I came up with a little backdoor program that does all the hard work for me while I sit back and let it unlock the phone.”

  Adriana knew Ray was a master programmer at heart. He’d received job offers from several major tech companies, some Israeli, a couple based in California. He turned all of them down. Claimed he didn’t want to work for “the man,” whatever that meant.

  Adriana had a sneaking suspicion the real reason was that he made way more under the table than he’d ever make from a legitimate salary.

  “Seriously?” She took a look around the room again. “You really live like this? It’s a mess.”

  “Hey, it’s my place. I do with it what I like. Okay?”

  “Fair enough. Just wondering how girls react when you bring them back here.”

  He grew uncomfortably quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I don’t really meet anyone. Kind of difficult when you’re always working and don’t leave the house much.”

  “Aww,” she said in a mocking tone. “How sad.”

  “Hey, I choose it. Besides, I’m saving up.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Really? For what?”

  “Obviously a better place, but I have plans. I’m not going to stay in this hole forever.”

  “So, where you thinking of going? Somewhere sunny, I hope.”

  “Maybe. There will probably be a beach there. Honestly, I just want to find some place warm where there aren’t many people around. Then I can kick back and relax without anyone bothering me.”

  “You want to be a hermit.”

  “Kind of. I prefer to be left alone. Is that a crime?”

  “No,” she said. Her mind was thinking that a bunch of the other stuff he did in life probably was. “Just promise me when you eventually get to that place you’re talking about that you will hire a maid.”

  He chuckled. “I may consider it at that point.”

  The computer dinged and blinked the words access granted on the screen.

  The phone vibrated, and suddenly the home screen appeared with its many colorful apps.

  “And we’re in,” he declared.

  He picked up the phone and handed it to her.

  “That didn’t take long,” she said. There was no effort to mask her surprise.

  “Like you said, I’m the best.”

  “That I did.”

  She tapped on one of the message threads and read through it.

  We need customs officials taken care of at Felixstowe Port. Bartolo must not be detained. See to it our associates are not delayed. Dock 37. This mission is of vital importance. The spear will plunge into the heart of the infidels.

  “That’s kind of ominous,” Ray said after reading the message.

  “Spear?” Adriana said to herself. “Bartolo? Who is Bartolo?”

  Ray rolled his shoulders. “I don’t know. That’s your thing. My thing is getting you into that thing, remember?”

  She nodded absently. The text message read like a strange code. She doubted it was anything like that, but that didn’t change the odd way the messenger had worded things.

  “Felixstowe Port,” Adriana said. “What is that?”

  Ray looked surprised. “I thought you were well traveled.” After a chastising glare, he decided not to press the issue. “Felixstowe is a major port. It’s arguably the largest port in the UK. Couldn’t tell you how many ships come in to that place every day, but it’s a lot.”

  He spun around to his computer and tapped the keys rapidly. When he hit enter, a number of images popped up on the screen. “See?” he asked, pointing at the pictures.

  “Okay, so Felixstowe is a port. That means the terrorists are picking something up on a ship there.”

  “The spear?”

  She nodded. “Could be. Based on this message, it sounds like they’re planning something huge. And what do terrorists do?”

  “Cause terrorism?”

  “Right, though this sounds bigger than their usual random bombing.”

  “You don’t think it’s nuclear, do you?” he sounded hopeful that the answer would be no.

  Adriana shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

  She thought for a second and then tapped the screen. “I need to know how to get there.”

  “To Felixstowe Port? What are you going to do? You think you can just walk in there and take down a bunch of terrorists? We need to contact the authorities.”

  She looked at him like his head was on fire. “You? Contact the authorities?”

  “I know. Probably the only time I’ll ever say that. Still, this sounds dangerous. You need to let the professionals know about this and let them handle it.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She gazed at the map. “I am the professionals.”

  9

  Felixstowe Port, England

  Crates were stacked high in seemingly endless rows along the wharf. Forklifts, cranes, and other huge machines worked tirelessly, moving one container and then another in a constant, repetitive dance. The work was slow, and Adriana knew the moment the dockworkers finished loading one ship, another would be sailing in to take its place and the dance would start all over again.

  She remained hidden in the shadows of an old storage building, watching from a distance. A sign close to the gate told her it was Dock 37. According to the message, she was in the right place.

  There was no sign of anyone who remotely looked like Asad. In fact, there was no sign of anyone other than the dockworkers who’d been busily working for the last two hours since she arrived.

  Adriana didn’t consider herself to be an extremely patient person, so it was frustrating after the first hour when Asad and his cronies didn’t make an appearance. The text message had been clear enough. She was in the right place.

  What if Asad and his men had gotten spooked?

  Adriana had made sure Youssef’s phone wouldn’t automatically lock anymore, which allowed her to respond to the initial message. She’d thought it prudent to do so. Otherwise, the guy might start to wonder what happened to his associate. If he learned about Youssef’s death, however, that would be enough to keep him away if Asad was a particularly excitable type.

  Men in his position were usually pretty paranoid. It was how they survived and how they avoided getting into trouble with anti-terrorist agents; agents like her.

  She swept the area again with a pair of binoculars. Nothing.

  The sun was setting in the west, and the air grew chillier by the minute. Adriana pulled her jacket tight around her arms. Fortunately, the rain had passed through and most of the clouds were to the north. As the hour grew late, the workers on the docks began clocking out and heading home for the day, leaving her pretty much alone.

  She let out a long sigh and lowered the binoculars. It was starting to look like her suspicions may have been correct about Asad learning about Youssef’s death. Her mind started running with theories.

  What if Asad was the one who sent the other two gunmen to take out Youssef? If that was the case and she’d been seen, they might have relaye
d that information to Asad.

  Then there was the issue of her replying to Asad’s messages. If he’d ordered the hit on Youssef and his men told him the job was done, a reply after the fact would be a huge red flag for Asad. He’d probably disappear and never resurface. Then again, why would Asad text a guy he’d ordered to be executed? The thoughts swirled in her head like pretzel dough, twisting and confusing her until she decided to refocus on the moment.

  That only lasted until she started considering the possibility that Asad wasn’t coming.

  Adriana cursed herself for potentially botching the mission, although it wasn’t her fault. She had no way of knowing the two gunmen were going to show up and take out her target.

  The phone in her left jacket pocket vibrated once. It was Youssef’s phone.

  Asad had sent a message.

  Two minutes.

  That was it. Nothing else.

  She assumed that to mean Asad would be arriving in two minutes. Her impatience gave way to a small dose of panic.

  Adriana raised the binoculars again and started sweeping the docks. This time, as she was checking out the area, she noticed something she hadn’t before. Between two enormous shipping vessels was a smaller one. It was a merchant ship, probably a tenth the size of the other big boats surrounding it. The containers loaded in the middle just in front of the bridge were also much smaller than the big steel containers lining the docks and stacked on the massive ships. They were wooden, too, which was a distinct difference from the rest of the cargo.

  But the most important detail of all wasn’t the cargo or the men standing around the edge of the boat’s deck, apparently guarding it. The most notable detail was the name of the ship: Bartolo.

  “How did I miss that?” she asked herself.

  Suddenly, a pair of headlights appeared to the left. The SUV rumbled down the asphalt toward the Bartolo. Two more SUVs just like it appeared directly behind. The convoy, it seemed, had arrived.

  She hopped down from her position between two shipping containers and hurried around the corner. She kept low, crouching as she moved to stay out of sight. At the docks, Adriana attached the suppressor to the muzzle of her weapon to keep things as quiet as possible if it came down to shooting.