The Tangled Webb
Page 19
“Daniel was the driver of the car that killed the two Senators. Was it an act of revenge against Kate?”
“A coincidence,” Lynch replied. “They do happen. By the way, how did you make the connection to Specter?”
“The night of the crash Daniel thought someone was tailing them. He called me with the license plate number of the SUV. Then Kate followed the money and that led us to Specter.”
“Nice.” Lynch smiled. “She’s a resourceful woman. You really crushed the bastard. I saw the coverage, it was very entertaining.”
“The son of a bitch got what he deserved.”
Lynch chuckled.
How do you think I get things done? It’s law firms like Wolfe and Hunt that do my dirty work.”
“Did,” James corrected.
“There are plenty more where they came from. Incidentally, you really put the squeeze on Specter. I suppose the money helped you?”
“Speaking of help, why did you loan us your plane?”
“I enjoy a challenge and I wanted to give you a sporting chance. Besides, I always win.”
“I know you’ve been playing the role of the ‘Deacon’. Specter spilled his guts.”
“Ah, the marvels of technology. Science never was my strong suit but the principle is simple enough. A clever device, capable of altering a person’s voice. Works like a charm.”
“I’m familiar with them,” James said.
“But of course you are. Let me guess, you traced the funds from Specter to Paris, then you picked up Baer’s trail.”
James nodded.
“Baer was a shrewd operator, but he got careless. Most of them do eventually.” Lynch shook his head. “I must say, his collapse in the street at the Musée d'Orsay. I can’t imagine a less dignified way to go.”
James shifted his weight on the bed.
“The man was a swine.”
“I won’t argue,” Lynch said with a devious grin.
“Where are your mercenaries coming from?”
“Ukraine. The military training there is excellent.”
Lynch adjusted himself in the chair.
“Of course, when you arrived in Paris I had to put a stop to it. There could be no more games.”
At the other end of the dungeon “good time” Charlie Watson lay on his back in his grubby cell. He began singing a poem, his voice low at first, then louder each time he repeated it.
“NO NEED FOR A FUSS
MY HOPES ARE PLUNGIN’
THERE IS NO ONE TO SAVE US
SO WE DIE IN THIS FILTHY DUNGEON . . .”
Natalie Lopez reached her breaking point and shouted, “Shut up, Charlie! You’re driving me crazy.”
He fell into silence.
James redirected his gaze back to Lynch.
“What do you intend to do with them?”
“They’re members of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations. They have information that will prove useful, and I’m looking forward to a stimulating conversation.”
“I’m curious,” James said. “The Bible verses left behind at the crime scenes. What’s that about?”
Lynch grinned.
“That was simply a diversion. Any conspiracy worth its salt needs some misdirection.”
“This scheme of yours, what do you expect to gain?”
“Why, money, of course. I need a two-thirds majority in the Senate in order to get a treaty signed with Cuba.”
“What’s in Cuba?”
“Oil, my friend. Ten billion barrels of reserves lying off the island’s northwest coast. I intend to harvest it.”
“Why don’t they do it themselves?”
Lynch grinned.
“They can’t, not without the offshore drilling equipment they need. The only countries that can provide it are Sweden and Brazil, and both are prohibited from doing business with Cuba because of the U.S. embargo.”
“So you get the U.S. to normalize relations and trade with Cuba, then have it ratified in the Senate.”
“Precisely.”
“And what about the senators you had murdered?”
Lynch shot him a dismissive look.
Then he turned and walked up the stairs.
As he disappeared, James glanced at the guard.
I have to get out of this hellhole. But how?
CHAPTER 57
As Nicholas drove to the Webb apartment, Olga turned to him.
“Alfred, my husband, he was very uncooperative.”
“How did you manage to get past him?”
Nicolas glanced over as Olga took a gun from her purse.
“It belongs to Mr. Webb.”
He looked at the gun and his eyes grew wide.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t shoot him.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. He’s probably locked in the dungeon with the others.”
Dungeon, others? thought Nicolas.
Then he realized that Olga had valuable information that could be used in a raid on the chateau.
After they arrived at the apartment and hooked up with Kate, Nicolas sat her down at the dining room table, spread out sheets of paper and asked her to draw detailed floor plans of the chateau’s basement, main level and upper floor.
Olga told them about her experience in the basement, the mechanical room and the open pipe leading to some kind of a hidden chamber.
Nicolas made a call to a friend who agreed to collect Olga and provide her safe passage across the border and into Germany.
Kate disappeared into her bedroom and when she returned, gave Olga a four-inch thick bundle of one-hundred euro banknotes.
“I don’t understand,” Olga said.
“This will tide you over for a while.”
“But …”
Kate put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“It’ll be better if you don’t ask questions.”
As Olga put the money in her purse, a bell from the lobby’s inner door rang and Kate pressed the buzzer, unlocking the street door.
Minutes later a knock came at the door and Kate answered it.
“My name is Henri,” the man said.
“I’m Kate, nice to meet you.”
After a round of introductions they all went downstairs and gathered outside the building. Nicolas took a piece of paper from his pocket with the address of a farmhouse outside the city.
He handed it to Kate.
“I have to get moving. I’ll see you at three o’clock.”
“Okay.”
Nicolas turned to Olga.
“Henri will take good care of you. Remember what we discussed. No credit cards or electronic contact with the outside world. You’re off the grid.”
“I understand.”
“Good luck, Olga.”
He gave her a supportive smile, turned and walked away.
Kate watched as Olga walked along the sidewalk, Henri a few steps behind before they climbed into his car and drove off.
Olga was on her way home.
CHAPTER 58
Kate asked the taxi driver to stop by a narrow road two miles away from Falcon Lair.
She began walking along the deserted lane.
In the distance a two-story structure came into view. Rented by Nicolas on short notice through a front company, the twenty acre property included an old farmhouse, an assortment of outbuildings surrounded by a pond and a large barn.
The perimeter was fenced, though the condition of the buildings left much to be desired. She passed through a wooden gate and walked farther before stepping up on a covered porch.
Nicolas opened the door and greeted her.
“Thanks for being on time.”
“No problem,” Kate replied.
He led the way down a hallway and into an eat-in kitchen looking out across the backyard and pond.
“Pierre,” he said to a man who sat at a table. “This is Kate Webb.”
“Nice to meet you,” he replied as he got on his feet.
A few moments passed and Nicolas spoke.
“Last night I told you we got help from an unexpected source.”
“I remember,” Kate replied, looking across the pond.
“Do you recall the meeting between James and Director Reardon at the CIA?”
“Yes, he told James we were on our own.”
“Well, that wasn’t really true. The Director hadn’t been completely candid in their conversation. You see, it’s an open secret in D.C. Reardon holds his cards close to the vest. After James left his office Reardon set in motion an ‘unofficial’ operation to follow up on the intelligence James passed along to him.”
“So he did buy into the story,” she said. “And he’s been pursuing it all this time.”
“Right, but on his terms. By going his own way he was insulating himself in case the whole thing blew up. He has personal motivations for his actions. He’s been holding a grudge against Thomas Lynch. The two men have a history.”
Nicolas continued, “Years ago when Reardon was in charge of military contracts at the Defense Department he locked horns with both Thomas Lynch and his father. Reardon had grown tired of the Lynch family and their unethical business practices. Reardon is strictly old school and his achievements are his own. On the contrary, he thinks Thomas Lynch is an over-indulged, pretentious bastard.”
“I get the picture.”
“Anyway, one of the Senators who took a bribe from Lynch started to lose faith and wanted out. I guess he didn’t think he’d live long enough to spend his money. His lawyer cut a deal with the Justice Department and the CIA is now working with the FBI.”
“But Reardon sent equipment and a team of operatives.”
“Unofficially, Kate. As far as the CIA goes, the agency has no knowledge of the operatives. If any of them are captured or killed they’ll be disavowed. The whole enterprise has been set up so that the CIA has plausible deniability.”
“So if anything goes wrong, they’ll take the position that they have no connection to the operation.”
“Right.”
“Then Reardon must think a raid on Falcon Lair is feasible.”
“They’re running out of options,” Nicolas said.
Kate looked at the pond as a duck glided across its surface.
“So it’s do or die?”
“Yup,” Nicolas said. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the men.”
They walked along a dirt road and to the barn which on short notice had been converted into a fully operational command center.
An assortment of electronic equipment lined a sidewall, and ammunition and weapons were stacked beside communications gear on another wall.
An intense officer with an enthusiastic, near-fanatical expression approached them. Well-built, he wore a buzz cut and appeared to be in his early forties, though his actual age was thirty-five. He looked at Nicolas.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“Kate, this is Major O’Malley,” replied Nicolas. “He and I are spearheading the operation.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Webb. I’ve had the honor of working with your husband. He’s a real badass, if I may say so.”
“Thanks.”
“What have you got?” Nicolas asked, referring to the status of the operation.
O’Malley stepped over to a monitor with Kate and Nicolas joining him. He pressed a few keys on the laptop and pointed to the screen.
“This is the video feed from an unmanned aircraft. It passed over the chateau an hour ago. You’re hunch was correct, Lynch has increased his security forces. Right now, nine men are patrolling the grounds.”
“What about inside the chateau?” asked Nicolas.
“No way to tell. The exterior walls are too thick. Our equipment can’t pick up any heat signatures. For all we know there could be three men in there or three hundred. We’re a bit hampered because of our late arrival.”
Kate’s expression turned to concern. She counted fourteen men in the barn and only twelve would participate in the assault. Two would remain here in the barn to coordinate communications and operate the unmanned aircraft.
“What time is the raid?” she asked.
“O-three hundred hours,” O’Malley replied.
Nicolas turned to her.
“That’s three o’clock in the morning.”
“I know,” Kate said, her expression fierce as her eyes burrowed into the chateau on the laptop screen.
Nicolas glanced at his watch and turned to O’Malley.
“So we’re meeting here at ten o’clock?”
“Right. Then a final run-through before we mobilize.”
“See you at ten,” Kate said, walking toward the barn doors.
As Nicolas trailed Kate out the door, O’Malley gave him a strange look.
She was walking toward the farmhouse when Nicolas caught up to her.
“Kate! You can’t be serious. Do you really want to do this?”
“I’m in love with him,” she said. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”
Nicolas didn’t say anything but the look on his face told her what he was thinking.
She’s a woman and not capable of doing things men can do.
“Give me your sidearm,” she demanded.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
She held her hand out.
He took a 9mm pistol from his holster and gave it to her. She pivoted toward a wood fence enclosing a paddock, taking aim at a fence post twenty-five paces away, her stance and arm positions stable.
In quick succession, the gun rang off.
Crack . . . crack . . . crack, crack, crack.
A cloud of wood fragments flew into the air as all five bullets hit their target. Kate handed back the gun, walked off and left him standing there.
Moments later Nicolas entered the farmhouse, his respect for Kate much improved.
He turned to her, saying, “Nice shootin’ Tex.”
CHAPTER 59
The sky above Falcon Lair was black and still, and a pair of unmanned aircraft began their descent. Painted black and powered by electric motors, they were virtually silent and invisible as they approached the chateau’s perimeter.
At the command center on the farmhouse property a technician peered into a monitor displaying a video stream from a camera imbedded in the nose of Alpha One.
The first to enter the chateau’s airspace.
A night-vision camera in the remote controlled aircraft captured a guard standing on the lawn near the gatehouse. The craft swooped in above the treetops and came closer to the guard.
The technician activated a valve fixed to the craft’s underbelly and an incapacitating vapor saturated the air. The guard inhaled the mist of non-lethal gas and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Then Alpha Two joined in.
Gliding on a low flight path the craft homed in on a guard standing by a hedgerow in the garden. The atmosphere sprayed with gas and the guard neutralized, the craft zeroed in on another guard who was sitting on a wall beside the river.
He was quickly brought down.
The aerial attack was merciless as the guards on the grounds were taken out of the equation.
Nicolas and Major O’Malley stood posts on opposite sides of the chateau, each man leading a six-man team.
They got the all-clear to begin the ground assault.
O’Malley then ordered two of his men to hide in a wood line near the gatehouse where one of Lynch’s guards was stationed.
Now in position, they waited.
A convertible sports car drove off the roadway and pulled up to the gatehouse. A guard came out the door and looked down at the driver, an attractive woman.
His eyes were quickly drawn to her cleavage, on display beneath a low-cut blouse.
“I must be lost,” she
said. “I can’t seem to find the motorway.”
Suddenly the guard winced in pain as his gun was twisted out of his hand.
“I’ll take that,” one of O’Malley’s men said, pointing his gun at him.
The car pitched in reverse and gravel flew as the woman, a CIA asset, turned around on the driveway and vanished from the scene.
“Move it,” one of O’Malley’s men barked at the guard.
With the gatehouse locked, the guard was marched into the woods, his hands and feet bound and his mouth sealed with duct tape.
An operative spoke into his headset.
“Gatehouse secured.”
“Copy,” replied O’Malley.
O’Malley spoke into a mike near his chin.
“Foxtrot to base, we’re in position,” he said, referring to his team’s call sign.
“This is Echo,” Nicolas replied. “We’re ready to roll.”
Taking positions along the perimeter walls, the teams shot metal spikes with steel cables into trees inside the perimeter. With the cables fastened to the top of the wall, they scaled along wire ropes above the pressure sensors on the ground. Getting across the barrier, the teams moved quickly in the darkness.
Nicolas and his men swept around the back of the chateau to the rear terrace and O’Malley took up a position outside the kitchen door. Both teams attached explosives to the doorjambs and moved back to safe distances.
“On my count,” O’Malley said. “Three, two, one …”
The charges exploded and the doors blasted inward.
Having a clear line of sight into the chateau, Nicolas and his team moved quickly through the opening and began an advance toward the central hallway.
O’Malley paused and held his men back near an outside wall.
Reacting to the explosions, two of Lynch’s mercenaries emptied their submachine guns and sent a hailstorm of bullets ripping through the windows.
A silence as the mercenaries reloaded.
“Go!” O’Malley commanded.
Taking advantage of a lull in the crossfire, O’Malley and his men moved with lightning speed into the kitchen in single file formation.
O’Malley and his men opened fire.
Thud, thud.
The guards collapsed on the floor.
O’Malley and his team could hear gunfire coming from the entrance hall where Nicolas and his men confronted more of Lynch’s guards.