Foreign Influence

by Brad Thor

  CHAPTER 38

  GENEVA

  The speed with which Reed Carlton worked was a testament to the efficiency of the private sector. Within hours, he had not only helped plug the holes in Harvath’s plan, he had gotten the train on the tracks and out of the station.

  It was agreed that Michael Lee had seen and heard too much to be let go. For the time being, he was going to have to be held on to. And while Peio was a decent field medic, he wasn’t a trauma doc. Lee was stable, but he needed a professional to look at his wounds. There was an American surgeon based in Paris who was being flown in. She had some sort of relationship with the Department of Defense, but other than that, Carlton didn’t elaborate. All he added was that she was equipped to keep an eye on Lee until they decided what to do with him. Harvath had trouble imagining what a surgeon could do, short of keeping Lee drugged up, but he figured Carlton knew best and let it go. There were several more pressing items that needed to be worked out anyway.

  As the attempted murder of the Troll had been orchestrated from within Switzerland, the United States didn’t have any jurisdiction. They also didn’t have any jurisdiction over the alleged murder of Lars Jagland. Not that anyone in the United States cared very much about either. All they cared about were the Rome and Paris attacks. That and Sterk’s material support of terrorism and how it had resulted in the deaths of hundreds of American citizens.

  Harvath was a big believer in the merits of enhanced interrogation. He also had no problem with torture when the situation called for it, which this one definitely did. There were very likely more attacks on the horizon, and Sterk possessed information that could help stop them. The key lay in applying as much pressure as was necessary to get her to play ball. Once she began cooperating, the pressure could be dialed back, but the threat of it ramping back up needed to hover over everything they did in order to ensure her continued collaboration.

  If they’d had more time to interrogate her, Carlton and the higher-ups at the DOD might not have been so willing to cut a deal. But as it was, everyone, including Harvath, agreed that preventing further attacks was more important than prosecuting her.

  Painting Sterk as a covert intelligence source for another agency, an immunity agreement was drafted. So long as she cooperated, Sterk would not be prosecuted.

  With that demand met, they set to work on “closing out” Tony Tsui.

  Sterk had been dead set against having it happen in the United States. “Too suspicious,” she had argued, believing that it would raise too many questions and sow too many seeds of doubt.

  The woman preferred that it take place in an Asian or Latin American country.

  That made things difficult for the Old Man. It had to be done correctly and with people he knew he could trust. The best was if it could be done through someone who owed him a favor. There were several of those scattered around the globe, but not all of them could lay their hands on a fresh “John Doe” Asian corpse.

  The woman finally agreed to the closeout taking place outside Frankfurt, Germany. The gun battle between Tony Tsui and an elite GSG9 team began shortly before eleven o’clock local time and raged for over forty-five minutes. When the unit finally stormed the small house, news vehicles from every media outlet in Frankfurt were already stacked three deep behind the police cordons. None of them had any clue that the man returning fire from inside the house was not Tony Tsui, but was one of the GSG9 counterterrorism operatives from the German Federal Police force.

  As dead bodies do not bleed, the operative inside the house had pumped plenty of fresh blood through the corpse as he simultaneously pumped it full of rounds from his MP5. A forensics team was brought in, and a big show was made of a single laptop being removed from the house. It was placed into an official police vehicle along with the GSG9 team and driven away in one of the longest and most secure convoys any of the media had ever seen. One reporter remarked that not even foreign heads of state traveled with that much security; not even the American president.

  The first piece of disinformation was leaked to the popular German weekly Der Spiegel and appeared on their Web site within the hour. German counterterrorism forces had decided to move on a known espionage figure who dealt in the sale and trade of highly classified state secrets. This figure was reported to have had wide-ranging ties, including several high-level terrorist contacts. The suspect had been shot and killed by German counterterrorism forces.

  The next leak went to the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, which reported that the house, located in a largely rural area, contained a significant stash of weapons and cash. It went on to say that while the victim’s identity had yet to be established, it was believed to be an Asian male in his late twenties or early thirties.

  By the time Hessischer Rundfunk Television updated its viewers, the narrative was almost perfectly formed. Along with the weapons and money found at the house of the suspected black market information broker were several passports which the suspect had attempted to destroy. The name of the suspect and any names at all gleaned from the passports were being withheld by German authorities pending investigation.

  While the names were being withheld from the German citizenry and its press, they were already being circulated through international intelligence channels. Mixed in among them was the name Tony Tsui.

  Finally, Der Spiegel did a follow-up piece identifying the laptop removed from the scene as being suspected of containing sensitive German military secrets. Because the laptop was protected by an extremely sophisticated encryption system, it was very likely the government would seek outside specialists to help crack it.

  Other international media outlets were already picking up on the story and running with it. Tony Tsui was as good as dead. That was the easy part.

  Reed Carlton was a master spy who had spent a lifetime in the espionage and counterterrorism arenas building a network of friends, contacts, and people who owed him favors, but there wasn’t anything he could do to satisfy Adda Sterk’s second and final request before she would cooperate.

  Looking at Nicholas, she said, “I want his dogs.”

  Before Harvath could even respond, Nicholas had told the woman to go perform an impossible sex act upon herself and had lunged once more for the wrench.

  “Why do you need the dogs?” Harvath had demanded.

  “Collateral. As long as I have them somewhere where he can’t get to them, I know he won’t allow anything to happen to me.”

  “At this point,” cautioned Harvath, “you’ve got a lot more to worry about from me than you do from him.”

  The woman looked at him. “If I have the dogs, it’s in his best interest to make sure I’m safe from everyone, including you. When I’m someplace safe, I’ll make sure the dogs are returned. Take it or leave it.”

  It was a discussion Harvath hadn’t wanted to have in front of Sterk so he had called Peio in to keep an eye on her while he walked Nicholas outside to talk to him.

  It wasn’t surprising that a dwarf would hit below the belt and Nicholas took the low road right from the minute they exited the warehouse. He said that because Harvath didn’t have children, he would never understand what is was that Sterk was asking. Nicholas not only ranted at him, he threatened to have Harvath killed if he caved to her demands. As far as he was concerned, they were going to have to go back inside and start torturing her again because there was no way he was going to hand over his dogs to her. They would not be used as an insurance policy. End of discussion.

  The man’s love for his dogs was one of the things Harvath had long respected about him. He could have berated him for beating Sterk so badly with the wrench. He could have blamed him and told him that’s what he got for taking out his anger on her in such a way, but he didn’t. He had done the same and worse in his life. Sterk had tried to have Nicholas killed and Harvath would have expected anyone in that situation to want revenge.

  “We’re not going to give her your dogs,” he said.

  “Then what ar
e we out here discussing?”

  As Harvath explained his plan, a smile crept across the little man’s face. When they stepped back inside, Harvath watched as Nicholas said a convincing good-bye to his dogs and then turned to face Sterk.

  “If anything happens to my animals,” he said, “I will make sure you die a death even you couldn’t imagine. Am I clear?”

  Sterk grinned and Nicholas raised his hand to strike her, but Harvath stopped him. “Enough.”

  The doctor arrived an hour later. She rang Harvath’s cell phone to tell him she was there.

  He stepped outside the warehouse to find a very fit, very attractive woman in her early thirties. She was leaning against a van identical to the one that was parked inside. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had blue eyes, full lips, and a wide mouth.

  “I’m Scot,” he said offering her his hand. When she took it, he felt a bolt of lightning pass between them.

  “Riley,” she replied, breaking off the handshake when she realized it had gone on a few seconds too long. “I’m sorry it took me so long. That was quite a to-do list I was handed.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “You can see for yourself,” she replied, stepping away from the door.

  Harvath slid it open and looked inside. There were two large crates with two large, white dogs inside. Stacked next to them were boxes filled with Adda Sterk’s personal belongings from her home and office as well as two laptops, three desktop computers, and stacks of portable drives. “That’s what I call a house call. You work fast. I’m impressed.”

  “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

  He stepped back and closed the door. “The Old Man said you do security too?”

  “That’s also why they pay me the big bucks.”

  Harvath was definitely intrigued, but he didn’t have time to ask the questions that were going through his mind. “We’ll bring your patients out shortly.”

  “I’ll be standing by.”

  Harvath fought the urge to look back over his shoulder at her as he walked back into the warehouse. Though he couldn’t be completely sure, he was fairly confident that she was watching him.

  Back inside the warehouse, he made a beeline for Adda Sterk.

  “I’m thirsty,” she said.

  “Too bad. I’ll give you one more chance to leave the dogs out of this.”

  “No. No dogs, no deal.”

  “Fine,” he said as Nicholas handed him his laptop.

  Based on Sterk’s instructions, they logged on to a Swiss discussion forum under her account. Harvath looked up the user name she had given him and typed a quick message. Five minutes later he received a response.

  When the instructions were complete, Nicholas loaded the dogs into the back of his van and watched as Peio drove them out of the building.

  He returned twenty minutes later. Harvath had him help Riley load Michael Lee into her van and then he stood guard outside.

  When Harvath checked the forum, there was a message waiting. The handoff had taken place and the dogs were being taken to “the country.”

  He had no idea who the person in the discussion forum was. It could have been Sterk’s boyfriend, a student who owed her a favor, or a neighbor. He didn’t care. All he wanted was the information he needed to stop any more bombings and nail the people responsible.

  Though the handoff had moved faster than he had anticipated, they had wasted a lot of valuable time.

  He showed Sterk the confirmation message and said, “I’ve done everything you asked; now it’s time to live up to your end. I want to know who is behind the bombings and how I stop them.”

  “I’m still thirsty,” she replied.

  “As far as anyone is concerned, Tsui’s dead. You’ve also got the dogs. I’m not giving you anything else until you begin cooperating with me.”

  “Fine. Although without water, I’m probably going to have some trouble speaking.”

  Harvath was done getting jerked around. Turning to Nicholas, he said, “Go heat the cigarette lighter back up.”

  As the Troll walked toward the van, Sterk looked up at Harvath. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll give you what you want.”

  CHAPTER 39

  I never met the people who hired me,” Sterk said as the Troll returned with the cigarette lighter.

  “But you know who they are,” replied Harvath.

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. All of our transactions were via digital dead drops and wire transfers.”

  “So why are you so afraid of them?”

  “Because I have seen what they can do.”

  “What? The Rome attacks? The Paris attacks?”

  Sterk shook her head.

  “The hell with this,” interjected the Troll. “I want to know why you were trying to have me killed.”

  Harvath motioned for him to be quiet.

  “This bitch tried to murder me. I’m not going to be quiet. I want answers.”

  “We all want answers,” he said firmly as he turned his attention back to her.

  “It’s all connected,” she replied.

  “Why was I targeted?” Nicholas demanded.

  Sterk looked at him. “There was a certain piece of business we did together. The people who hired me wanted any and all traces of it to be wiped away.”

  “And that meant wiping me away as well.”

  “Yes.”

  “I imagine that it also helped to provide the authorities with a false trail to follow.”

  Sterk nodded. “That’s why I had the dogs and the dwarf flown to Sicily.”

  “So you knew about the bombings in advance,” said Harvath.

  It took her a moment to respond. Finally, she said, “Yes, I did.”

  He shook his head. “How do you charge for something like that? Is it a flat fee? Or is it on a sliding scale based on how many are killed versus maimed and wounded?”

  It was a rhetorical question. She didn’t bother answering.

  “This is about the last piece of business we did together, isn’t it?” said Nicholas. “I sold you the location of site 243.”

  The woman nodded. “I was hired to help steal what they were working on.”

  “I was actually surprised when you contacted me about buying the coordinates. The level of secrecy surrounding it was amazing. I was only able to get its location; and even that took some doing.”

  “What is it?” asked Harvath.

  “The more appropriate question would be, what was it,” stated Sterk. “Two weeks ago, site 243 was destroyed.”

  “By whom?”

  “By my clients. They were able to launch an attack inside China on a Chinese military base and not only kill everyone on the base, but they then tracked down the remaining Chinese intelligence officers who had any knowledge of what was being worked on at site 243 and they killed them as well.”

  “This was a Chinese operation?”

  The woman nodded. “You wanted to know why I fear my clients. That’s why. Who mounts an attack on a Chinese military base, slaughters everyone on it, and then hunts down high-ranking Chinese intelligence agents inside and outside of China? Who has the skills and the resources to do something like that?”

  “I still don’t understand what this has to do with the attacks in Rome and Paris.”

  Sterk took a deep breath. “The Chinese know that they can’t defeat America on a conventional battlefield. They’ve known that for a long time. To win a war against America, the Chinese would have to engage in unconventional warfare.

  “They created a military base in the middle of nowhere in Mongolia with the sole purpose of studying America. Its operatives spoke only English, ate only American foods, read American books, watched American television programs, played American video games, and surfed nothing but American and Western Web sites. It was as close as you could be to the United States while still remaining under China’s umbrella.

  “They were steeped in American culture an
d the American way of thinking. Their job was to study America, find its weaknesses, and develop the most devastating attack they could conceive of. They were encouraged to think outside of the normal military mind-set.”

  “And suicide bombers were the best they could come up with?” asked Harvath.

  “Look at the impact of 9/11,” replied Sterk. “Look at what it did to America’s psyche and its economy. How many billions were lost? How many billions more were spent preventing another similar attack? Massive governmental agencies like your Department of Homeland Security and the TSA were created as a response. Now multiply that impact across the United States in all new waves of attacks. Pick whatever targets you want: movie theaters, shopping malls, churches, hotels, schools. Your country would grind to a halt, its people paralyzed with fear.”

  “But the attacks aren’t happening in America, they are happening in Europe.”

  “Not yet.”

  “What do you mean, not yet?” replied Harvath.

  “Through site 243 the Chinese had created an entire terrorist network. My clients have not only hijacked it, they have activated it.”

  “And they are planning on targeting American cities?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  “It’s my job. I deal in information. Information is power.”

  “And she probably spies on and steals from her own clients,” added Nicholas.

  “The bigger the picture I have,” she replied, “the better I am able to connect the dots. When I know what pieces I’m missing, I go after them and secure them. My customers don’t come to me to purchase incomplete intelligence.”

  “So in other words, you snuck a peek at what your clients were paying you for.”