Chapter 15
Haifa, Israel
Four Hours Earlier
“It will work.”
Hannah Krygier stared calmly at the man sitting across from her. He sipped his glass of champagne like a debutante. She hated him and would have loved to snatch the glass from his hand, smash it across his face, and stab the exposed stem into his temple. The thought made her smile. The smile turned into a chuckle.
“You don’t believe me?” the man said, obviously misinterpreting her mirth. Hannah was glad for it.
“I did not say that. I merely stated the facts.”
“Hannah, please do not tell me that you are having doubts.”
The comment made her smile disappear. She glowered at the man.
“I told you not to move up the timetable; you ignored me. I told you I could handle Ozzy; you ignored me again. Tell me Efraim, why is it that I am still here? Maybe you should place one of those discreet calls and have me killed.”
This time her visitor chuckled.
“Oh, Hannah. Let us discuss something more cheerful, like the way Zimmer is playing into our hands.”
Hannah clenched her fists under the table and willed the shaking to stop. How she hated this man. The thought of Maya, who would soon be talking to President Zimmer, made her body relax.
“The American may be acting like a fool but do not forget what he has accomplished in his short time as president,” Hannah said, sipping her chardonnay. “Maybe you are right; it may be the perfect time. I apologize for doubting your judgment.”
Her apology was accepted with a slow nod.
“Our people say he has his intelligence assets refocused on his new legacy plan. This shift will help us achieve our goal without the scrutiny we might otherwise have encountered.”
“And the vessels?”
Efraim’s grin widened.
“They near their targets even as we speak.”
+++
Hannah stood at her front door and watched the armored SUV roll through the iron gate. She stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it. She then slid to the floor, her energy spent. The sobs were gone. The tears were spent, but the pain was still there. The pain and the anger were what kept her moving.
She thought of the assassin’s face, the one who had stepped so casually through the same door she was sitting against now. He had informed her that her ex-husband was dead and that a team would arrive in minutes to dispose of the body to clean up the courtyard. No one had forewarned her of the decision. So, as her face remained placid, her heart had broken.
Ozzy was her first love. He was a gruff man, a soldier accustomed to getting his way which had ultimately ended their marriage. But they’d remained friends, and over the years she noticed the lingering gaze or the kiss on the cheek that lasted a second too long.
She’d brought him in on the operation because he was the right man for the job. If anyone could keep Nahas’s research and development under wraps, it was Ozzy.
But they’d lied to her. They’d told her that once the initial phase was complete, Col. Osman and his team would simply be reassigned. Most of the team had received new assignments, except Osman and Maya. According to Efraim, they knew too much.
She’d failed to warn Osman, but at least she had succeeded in warning Maya. It had been almost impossible to get her to America and it almost hadn’t happened. Even now they were looking for her. Hannah could only hope that her good friend, Ambassador Ullman, would come through on his promise and deliver Maya to President Zimmer. He was her only hope. She had no idea how high up the conspiracy went. Hannah doubted the prime minister, her brother, was involved but Efraim and his cohorts would surely know if she contacted him.
It felt like they knew everything. They’d somehow tracked down Maya and casually killed Judah Burns and his men outside the airport. The unofficial statement from government sources said the explosion was the result of a Palestinian bomb. They’d even released photos of the suspected suicide bombers to the media.
Hannah knew that the story would vanish in short order. It was the way of things. The world and her people had become desensitized to the violence. The news that topped the “trending” list today would soon be covered by the garbage of Internet slush within a matter of mere hours. Hannah thought about handsome Judah, Maya’s friend, who’d done her a personal favor. His men hadn’t known who they were working for but they followed him into danger. They’d lost their lives due to their blind faith. Hannah could only hope that Maya would begin to unravel the twisted tale that was just now beginning to wind its way around the world. The only people who could help her now were the Americans.
+++
The armored SUV pulled up to the government utility van sitting a block from the house that it had just left. The passenger side window rolled down and a bearded face appeared.
“Has she made any calls?” Efraim Perlstein asked from the back seat of the SUV.
“Only for work.”
“Any visitors?”
“Just you.”
Perlstein nodded. “Call me if you notice anything out of the ordinary and I mean anything. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
Perlstein rolled up his window and motioned for the driver to leave. As the SUV rolled toward its next destination, the former Information Minister of Israel’s mind drifted back to the conversation he’d just had with the fascinating Hannah Krygier. Not only was she beautiful, but also she’d managed to bridge the divide between warring political parties during her time in government service. She’d come highly recommended and she passed every test they’d given her. That was no small feat considering the fact that Hannah Krygier was the highest-placed female in their little plot. She had earned her rank, and one of the reasons for Perlstein’s visit was to see if she still deserved the position.
After all, who wouldn’t place a bit of careful scrutiny on a colleague who’d just lost her ex-husband and a woman she considered a niece went missing. It was better to investigate such a colleague and assign judgment later.
Perlstein was not a patient man but he knew the significance of having Krygier on their side. It was not every day that you had the Israeli Prime Minister’s sister in a noose.
Chapter 16
Wild Dunes
Isle of Palms, South Carolina
August 28th, 3:15pm
“I think we should fly to Tel Aviv,” Trent said, receiving nods from many in the room. The president had left soon after Maya’s revelation, and he would coordinate the efforts in D.C. That left The Jefferson Group and SSI teams gathered in Cal’s vacation home, brainstorming. The coffee machine was on constant drip, and take-out food littered the living and dining rooms. The mood was grim but focused.
Cal let the others take the lead. His brain was still awakening from its self-imposed stasis. For the last two hours he’d listened and processed the discussion while he searched through the contents of Maya’s mysterious envelope.
There were names, locations and grainy photographs that could have been Cold War-era memorabilia. It simply looked like a compilation of random notes. Cal wondered if they were the work of Hannah Krygier and he had asked Maya as much. She said she didn’t know but that it was certainly possible.
For her part, Maya answered questions when she could. It didn’t look like she was holding anything back but it was against every fiber in Cal’s body to trust a stranger completely, regardless of the situation.
Neil had three laptops running simultaneously and he was doing what he did best, processing buckets of information like a squirrel sorting nuts. He’d loaded the pertinent information from Maya’s files, but so far nothing. Every couple of minutes he’d come up for air, take a sip of coffee, and then return to work. He was like a bloodhound that had yet to find the scent.
“Hey, Maya, can you tell us again about how they planned to launch these 'bug' things?” Gaucho asked. Ever since seeing the picture of a horseshoe on Neil’s computer scree
n, the Hispanic operator insisted that it looked like a bug.
“Dr. Nahas’s notes suggested using either an exploration vessel or a salvage ship. As far as I know the delivery vehicle was never finalized,” Maya answered.
“And these pictures?” Daniel held up a photocopied page from the files. “You’ve never seen these ships before?”
“No. I’ve never seen those images or ships.”
Cal stared at the picture in his hand. It was grainy and obscured, but it was most definitely a ship. It was hard to make out the exact shape. The photograph had been taken at night, and the angles were obscured like it had been taken from a reflection in a shattered mirror. Neil was running it through his recognition program.
“And what about all these names and places?” Trent asked. “Do any of them ring a bell?”
Maya shook her head. They’d been over the same questions before. Cal saw the strain etched on her face.
“I wish I knew,” she said. “It would be so much easier if I could call my aunt.”
She’d mentioned her relationship to Krygier before but she had stopped short of elaborating; Cal needed to know.
“You keep referring to her as your aunt,” he said. It was the first words he’d spoken since deliberations began.
“She’s not really my aunt. I don’t know how they met, but she knew my parents before I was born. They were more casual acquaintances than anything. I never met her until it was time to decide what I wanted to do after my time in the service. My father wanted me to get out of the service and return to school. My mother wanted me to find a nice boy and get married. I wanted to work in intelligence or possibly in the government.” Maya chuckled. “Thinking he was helping his own cause, my father put me in touch with Hannah. She later told me that my father begged her to tell me all the bad things that could happen in either field. When I met her, she started to do as she’d promised, but by the time lunch was over she was giving me advice on which areas to explore and which she could possibly help me get into. I think she saw herself in me. After that day, she took an active role in my life. She never pressed and she never helped without me asking, similar to a benevolent aunt. That’s why I started calling her Aunt Hannah, sort of as a joke, but it stuck.”
“And she’s the prime minister’s sister?” Cal asked. Neil had provided that little tidbit seconds after Maya’s earlier revelation.
“She is.”
Someone had suggested calling the prime minister but that idea was shot down quickly. Until they had actionable intel, no one would be alerted. Those were the president’s orders.
“Do you think the prime minister could be part of this?” Cal asked.
“Last week I would have said no, but now, I really do not know,” Maya answered with a frown. “My life as I knew it seems to have been a highly crafted lie.”
Cal thumbed through the files again. What were they missing? There had to be something, maybe some hidden message from Krygier buried under the mundane. Or maybe it was just a pile of red herrings.
“There is one thing that concerns me,” Maya said, her voice detached as if she’d just remembered. “I never got the feeling that the Israelis were the ones doing all the work. Yes, we had Dr. Nahas, but where were they building the prototypes? Who was providing the vessels for final delivery? I asked Colonel Osman once, and he told me he did not know.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I did. Once he brought me into his confidence, he told me everything. He even expressed his frustration that our employers were not providing him with sufficient information. One day I heard him growling into the phone, demanding to be given more access in order to provide adequate support. I did not hear the reply but judging from his demeanor the remainder of the day I could tell they had put him in his place.”
It sounded like any number of government entities or higher headquarters that Cal had dealt with in the past. To the ones in charge it was called compartmentalization. To the troops on the ground it just felt like high school all over again, where only the popular kids got the good stuff. There was nothing worse than going into combat without a clear picture of what you were fighting for. The standard answer was to wave the flag in your face and say it was for King and Country. Cal assumed that Osman’s handlers had given him the same message.
There were too many questions to ask. It was like being given the key to a secure locker without the knowledge of where to find the locker or what lay within it.
Before Cal could press Maya for more information, Neil snapped his fingers and motioned to his computer. Cal moved to where he could see the image of what they’d assumed was a ship. There was another picture on the second screen, but this one was crisp and clear. It clearly showed a port, and the photograph had probably been taken from a plane. There were boats moored all throughout the crowded harbor, but two shapes immediately jumped out at Cal. The first was obviously an American aircraft carrier. Cal wasn’t sure which one it was, but he could tell by the shape that it was American.
That wasn’t the amazing part of the picture. Moored across the waterway from the Navy behemoth was something not as large but equally as impressive.
“Is that what I think it is?” Cal asked.
“If you think it’s a yacht, yes, that’s what you think it is.” It wasn’t just a yacht. It was a super-yacht. “Her name is Nightshade and she measures 180 meters. That’s just under 600 feet for you non-metric boys, and she is currently the largest super-yacht in the world. She was built in Germany last year and is currently based in the Bahamas.”
“That’s what this is?” Cal asked, pointing to the original photo.
“I’m ninety-two percent sure of it,” Neil said.
Daniel slid in next to Cal.
“Who owns that thing?” Daniel asked. Cal felt a chill run up his back.
Neil squinted at the screen. “A British national named Chance Baxter.”
“The billionaire?” Dr. Higgins asked. No one else seemed to know the name, but Neil confirmed that Sir Chance was indeed on the list of world’s billionaires.
Finally, a piece of the puzzle. Cal’s brain clicked on and he felt the familiar vibration of synapses buzzing in his head along with a tingle of anticipation in his chest. He leaned forward and asked, “Neil, can you tell us where Sir Chance is right now?”
Chapter 17
Great Sale Cay
The Bahamas
August 28th, 5:44pm
Chancellor Brighton Baxter IV (known to the world as Chance Baxter) sometimes wore ear plugs to dull the sounds of the screaming. The soundproof room could contort the shrieks of a dying man. Not that they'd all been men, but the stray woman had been a rarity. His father had had a strange attraction to the Bahamian locals that peddled their wares in nearby Freeport, but to the current head of the Baxter empire such sexual proclivity had no place in the custom-made room on the northern end of his private island.
No, this was all business. It always was. If there was anything that anyone could say about Chance Baxter, it was that he was all business.
He stared at the mutilated corpse for a long moment, admiring his handiwork, and grinning back at the teeth that no longer had lips to cover them. The man had been tough and he had almost made it through the surgical precision of Baxter’s deli-thin slices off the man’s abdomen. He’d passed out after that, and it had taken two ampules of smelling salts to bring the man back to his senses.
After that Chance was like a butcher preparing a carcass. The man moaned and let out the occasional scream while Baxter hummed and carved away.
He liked to feed his local staff, and he still couldn’t believe they hadn’t realized that the delicate morsels he fed them for Sunday suppers were their fellow man. Ah, the irony of it all. Prehistoric meals for Bahamian savages. He grinned wider at the thought. Maybe a nice chimichurri sauce to go along with the man's flesh?
Baxter grabbed the hose that sat coiled in the corner, turned on the spigot, and rinsed his hand
s. The blood was starting to congeal, and it would make the unstrapping process a bother. Once satisfied, he walked back to the grinning corpse and undid the ankle straps, followed by the straps around the shins, then the waist strap, and on up until the last tie-down was the dead man’s head. It was the only thing that kept the body from falling over. He’d learned that trick years ago. Better to let the cadaver’s own weight do the job rather than having to heave the body in.
He moved to the nearest wall and depressed the black button that opened the hatch in the floor six inches in front of the bolted chair. The hatch door eased open revealing a hidden lagoon below. Baxter flipped a switch and LED lights lit up the water twenty feet below him. The blue space appeared empty at first and, then as if called by a silent dinner bell, the sharks came.
Baxter grabbed a piece of the dead man’s cheek from the workbench and tossed it into the void. When it hit the water there was a flurry of activity, each predator snapping at the tiny snack in a frenzy.
“Have patience, my friends. More will be along shortly.”
By the time he'd packaged a good portion of the rest of the meat and put it in an ice-filled cooler, close to one hundred sharks had gathered in the underground cave. Baxter licked his lips in anticipation and unsnapped the only thing holding the corpse from its final resting place. Aided by the still-slick blood, it slipped down the chair, the feet going in first and the head last after a hollow smack against the corner of the portal.
Baxter watched as three sharks, one a giant hammerhead, sprang from the choppy water and pulled the body in. The billionaire looked at his watch and noted the time. It took the gathering only one minute and forty-four seconds to tear the body apart. Then he went about hosing off the room from top-to-bottom. Once every trace of blood and gore was safely in the lagoon below he stripped down naked, tossed his soiled clothes into the hole, and then hosed himself off. After giving the sharks a quick salute, Baxter closed the trap door and turned off the LED lights.
The Zimmer Doctrine (Corps Justice Book 11) Page 8
