by J C Ryan
His hands were slightly trembling when he pushed the speed dial button for Director Patrick’s cellphone. Hunter answered on the second ring.
“James here, we've just landed, and I’m still on the plane. I can listen but can’t say much.”
“I can’t talk much either.” Hunter’s tone was somber. “I’m afraid it’s dreadful news. I can’t tell you more over the open line. I have arranged for airport security to meet you and escort you through customs immediately. Give them your ticket and boarding pass; your luggage will be delivered later. A driver is waiting to bring you directly to the office.”
“Okay. I’ll see you there.” He replied. He didn’t require more information to know they were dealing with a severe situation. He had seen enough of those in his line of work to know there was a tsunami of trouble waiting at the office.
James was a former CIA field operative working on special assignment for A-Echelon - a small but top-secret organization consisting of a limited number of specialists who were tasked to investigate global archeological anomalies that might have a bearing on national security. The A in the name was for Archeology. Their covert workspace and offices were hidden in some of the secret underground facilities below the Smithsonian Institution Building known as The Castle. The Institution hosted many different research centers, involved in a broad range of top-secret initiatives and programs across the globe.
On the way to the office, he phoned his wife, Carolyn, to let her know something had come up and that he would probably be home much later than planned. He would let her know as soon as he had more information. He and Carolyn had married when they were 25 and were still madly in love with each other after 31 years. Carolyn was an exceptional woman who understood what she got herself into, the day she said, “I do” while looking into the eyes of the CIA spook she loved. Over the years Carolyn learned the meaning of all those code words – ‘something came up,' ‘I’m going to be late,’ ‘don’t worry I’m okay.’ She also learned to value and make the most of, every moment of the time she and her James were together. And with the same fervor, she would switch her mind to her gardening and writing when they were not together.
James had a tender smile on his face when he ended the call with Carolyn. What would my life have been without that beautiful angel of a woman who understands the work I do, and me, so well?
His mind returned to the news and the conversation with Hunter. There were two, or maybe three, possibilities. It could be related to the bomb explosion in Jerusalem and Hunter’s words, ‘I’m afraid it’s dreadful news’ led him to expect the worst news about Carter and his family. The other option was that it could have something to do with the ancient nuke project that he and Carter had been working on, and the reason for their visits to India and Egypt. Or it could be nothing to do with any of that, but then, he had no idea what that could be.
It was 3:00 am when he approached Hunter’s office and saw the door was closed, but light was seeping through the line underneath. He knocked and entered when he heard Hunter’s voice call him in. His heart dropped to the floor the moment he set eyes on Hunter’s face and Irene O’Connell’s tear filled eyes. He hesitated, his breath trapped in his chest, “This is about Carter and his family, isn’t it?”
Patrick nodded slowly. Irene was wiping the tears from her eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry Jim; it’s dreadful news. Please take a seat.” Hunter’s voice was quivering as he struggled to contain his emotions.
Irene O’Connell had a Ph.D. in Human Biology and was an employee of DARPA on special assignment with A-Echelon to assist Mackenzie Devereux with her respirocyte research. Without asking, she got up and poured James a cup of coffee, black without milk or sugar, and handed it to him. That’s how he always had his coffee. He reached for a chair, as he accepted the cup with shaking hands.
While James stared at them, Hunter gave him the information he’d collected from various security agencies in contact with their counterparts in Israel. They'd learned through those channels that Carter was alive and in the hospital. He was the only one inside the restaurant at the time of the explosion who survived, and it was assumed that Makenzie and Liam were killed in the blast. The death toll was 25 with 56 injured. Carter was in the critical care unit of the Shaare Zedek Medical Center, Jerusalem, in very serious but stable condition.
As soon as he’d learned what had happened, the President made a personal call to Mackenzie’s parents to inform them of the tragedy.
“Has anyone claimed responsibility for this?” James asked with an ashen face as he looked at Director Patrick.
“No one so far,” Hunter was shaking his head, “that’s according to the Director of the CIA who has been in direct contact with his counterpart in the Mossad.”
“I’m going back to Israel,” James said in a solemn tone. “I have to be there for Carter.” He raised his eyebrows while looking at Hunter as if to say, ‘and don't you try and stop me.’
“Of course you are, and thank you.” Hunter nodded. “I made arrangements for Steven and Mary Anderson, Mackenzie’s parents to go with you. As soon as they arrive from Boston there is a private charter ready to fly you all over to Tel Aviv.”
“Thank you for that, Hunter. I appreciate your understanding.”
“Okay, the Andersons should arrive at Dulles by 9:00 am. I suggest you go home and spend some time with Carolyn. You’ll have time on the flight to get some sleep.”
James stood to leave. He moved towards the door but turned back to Hunter and Irene and started to say something then stopped.
“What is it, Jim? It looked like you were going to say something?” Irene asked.
James shook his head slightly, almost as if he did not believe what he was about to say but decided to continue. “Do you think this could somehow be related to either of the projects Carter and Mackenzie have been working on for us?”
Hunter and Irene looked at each other and shook their heads. None of them had given that any consideration. “I won’t rule out anything at this stage Jim. Ruthless lunatics who don’t care about killing and mutilating innocent people committed this senseless massacre, so anything is possible. But I would say it’s highly unlikely there is any connection to those projects. I would go so far as to say that you could definitely rule out Mackenzie’s respirocyte project.”
James didn’t reply. He just nodded his head slowly and turned back to the door. There was nothing more to say – for now.
Chapter 2 -
In three days
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, 10 hours after the bomb explosion
Xavier Algosaibi was usually a very calm and confident man. He was a man who listened more than he spoke for he had learned long ago that information and knowledge could be gained by his silence. These were personality traits that had served him well all his life and part of how he succeeded in becoming one of the wealthiest and most influential men in Saudi Arabia. Information and knowledge were powerful and profitable commodities.
However, he was on the verge of exploding into a rage of fury with the man sitting in front of him, Youssef Bin-Bandar. Youssef was a prominent member of the Saudi establishment. He was the third highest-ranking member of the General Intelligence Presidency, directly beneath the director and deputy director. The two men shared an absolute hatred of the Saud royal family, and over the past 35 years, they had formed a close friendship. They were united in their desire to bring down the House of Saud and unify the world under a new Islamic caliphate, or as Westerners would term it, an Islamic State. Youssef was one of the very few of Xavier’s confidants.
“Youssef,” Algosaibi spoke softly and slowly, trying his best to suppress the rage, which had been building inside him. “This is the second time in just a few short weeks that an operation has not been completed successfully. I hate loose ends and sloppy work. I have become one of the most successful men in this country through diligence and precision. Why did this happen?”
“Xavier,” Bin-Bandar’s voice
was trembling. In the 35 years they had known each other, he had witnessed the consequences of Algosaibi’s wrath on two occasions, but the memory of those two occasions gave him reason to be shivering in fear. “Please accept my sincere apologies. I am ashamedly responsible for the failure, and it hurts me to have disappointed you.”
“Not just me Youssef.” Algosaibi’s voice rose. He was about to tell him that he had also disappointed the Foundation of the Real Princes of Saud, but Bin-Bandar didn't know of their existence. Instead, he said, “Worst of all is that you have disappointed Allah!” Bin-Bandar flinched when he heard those words.
Algosaibi stopped and drew breath. His anger had driven him almost to exposing the Foundation of the Real Princes of Saud.
It rattled him; how could this happen? Was he so angry that he had forgotten the secret cabal of five men who, with him, planned the final destruction of the House of Saud?
His black eyes stared at Bin-Bandar as he took a sip of water he’d poured from a carafe. He breathed deeply, drawing on his inner reserves to find his core of peace once more.
Bin Bandar waited. He had no choice; he’d wait until Algosaibi released him, and there was no way Algosaibi would do that yet.
With another sip of water, his mind went over the five men whom he’d carefully selected.
Each of them hated with a passion the House of Saud. It had taken five long years of seeking, selecting, and then checking and rechecking each one of them until he was convinced they were indeed trustworthy.
His choices were not based solely on their wealth, standing in society, their businesses or families, nor on how influential they were, although all that mattered. One of them was even a drug dealer, an occupation Algosaibi loathed, even though the money was excellent. The choice was made by the quiet and silent tests he carefully crafted and presented to each of them, without their knowledge, to discover if they were honest, loyal, fierce in their courage, and silent - above all silent.
It took a long time to approach them and he never did this himself. First, an intermediary would seek them out and sow the seeds to pave the way for him. It took patience.
The final result was a foundation that consisted of five exclusive members who, between them, had access to revenue from 250,000 barrels of oil a day.
The Foundation was well planned and organized such as a terrorist group might be set up. It was impossible to infiltrate as it was set up as isolated and independent cells that only one person knew the extent of, and that person was Algosaibi himself.
The members were smart and never met in public. There was nothing to connect them to each other, and all meetings were held underground, in places very few people knew existed.
Bin-Bandar’s gaze was fixed on the floor in front of him. He didn’t dare look up at Algosaibi; he thought that would be seen as an act of defiance, which would be an assurance of death for him.
“Youssef, a few days ago you sat here in that same chair, and I asked you to give me the assurance that you had everything ready to execute the operation in Jerusalem. Is that correct?”
Youssef was unable to speak he just nodded.
“Look at me when I talk to you and answer me!” Algosaibi yelled.
The man's head snapped up, “Yes that’s correct. I am … I am … very sorry.”
“Did you not put your hand on your heart and say these exact words: ‘everything has been planned in minute detail. Now I only wait for you to say the word and the operation will kick into action.’”
“Yes Sir, I did.” Bin-Bandar felt an icy chill slip down his spine.
“Youssef it is only our friendship of the past 35 years that is preventing me from killing you here and now.” Algosaibi’s voice had gone soft and measured - deadly. “What exactly happened? And don’t leave anything out. I don’t have to tell you what will happen if I find out you have lied to me.”
“Yes, sir,” he nodded. “We had a team of three people following Devereux and his family from the airport in Tel Aviv to their hotel in Jerusalem. In the background, we had two vehicles ready, one with the martyr and the other with the three Special Forces soldiers. With our electronic surveillance equipment, we overheard that they were planning to visit the Triangle and have dinner at a corner café. When they left the hotel, they were again followed, and we kept tabs on their conversations with the parabolic directional microphones. When we heard that they were heading for the restaurant, two of our collaborators took up their places in the restaurant and kept a watch on the family to see when would be the right time to strike.” Bin-Bandar’s throat was dry, and he was shaking. He paused to take a sip of water.
“Continue Youssef.” Algosaibi snapped at him. “I am waiting.”
“The family took their seats at an outside table, and shortly after that, our people inside reported that the woman had gone to the restroom. The mission leader told everyone to wait until she got back. Minutes later, our agents inside said that the woman had returned, and the mission leader gave the order for the extraction to commence.
“One of our agents started a fight with another man across the street from the café to draw attention away from the restaurant and allow the van with the extraction team to drive up to the building unnoticed. They were to grab the family and take off before the truck with the bomb arrived.” He paused again to take a few deep breaths.
“Don’t make me wait, Youssef. You are angering me.”
Youssef drew in a shaky breath and continued, “As soon as the mission leader gave the order, the extraction vehicle was on the way. Just when the ‘fight’ was about to start, Devereux left the table and went to the restroom. The agents inside said they reported this to the mission leader, but the mission leader told me that he never received the text message.”
“And that’s where everything went wrong,” Algosaibi stated.
“Yes, sir,” he answered miserably.
“Youssef, I think I’ve heard enough. I’m not even going to ask you how many loose ends are hanging out there. You will make sure they are all tied up in the next 24 hours and report back to me.”
Youssef nodded vehemently, “Yes sir, I will.”
“When will the team arrive?”
“In three days’ sir, they are already in Gaza.”
Algosaibi waved his hand at Bin-Bandar as if he were shooing a fly away. He had already made up his mind. He would have to find a new director of operations for the Foundation of the Real Princes of Saud.
Chapter 3 -
Will he get through this?
Thirteen hours after the bomb explosion
At the Dulles airport, a still shattered Irene met Mackenzie’s shocked and grief-stricken parents, Steven and Mary. Their son - Mackenzie’s brother- Ray Anderson had arranged for emergency leave and accompanied them. Irene escorted them to the chartered Gulfstream jet where James was waiting. Other than conveying their deepest and heartfelt condolences, there was not a lot either of the agents could say to the devastated family.
During the flight to Israel, James tried to share with the Anderson’s as much information as he could about his relationship with Mackenzie, Carter, and Liam. There was so much more he wanted to tell them but was unable to, due to the secrecy of the Institute and the projects Mackenzie and Carter had been working on.
Steven, Mary, and Ray were quiet most of the time, reliving the last day they had seen Mackenzie and Liam. They'd lost track of time since they received the dreadful news. It was just two days ago when Steven and Mary accompanied their daughter and grandson to Boston’s Logan International Airport. Both of them were so full of life and excited to see Carter again after six weeks. There was so much for them to look forward to; two days in Jerusalem, and then on to a luxury cruise ship sailing the Mediterranean for six weeks, and visiting ports in Turkey, Cyprus, Malta, Greece, Italy, France, and Spain.
Mary just smiled when she remembered Liam’s final instructions to her about how to take care of his little four-legged friend, Jeha. Jeha was a Ca
voodle, a cross between a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel and a miniature Poodle. The two of them were inseparable. Jeha even slept with him in his bed at night. She had been a birthday present from his grandparents.
“Jim I know this is unfair to ask you but,” Mary stopped unable to continue for a moment. “Is it too unrealistic to hold out hope that Mackenzie and Liam could still be alive? I mean as far as we know their bodies haven’t been recovered.”
James found it difficult to look at her. He took her hands. “No, I don’t think that’s unrealistic. I promise you, as soon as we get there, I will get in touch with the authorities to get more information.” He took a deep breath and continued. “The President has made arrangements for me to meet with some high-ranking officials in the Israeli government.”
“Thank you, Jim,” She whispered.
Steven was staring silently out the window, not seeing the view. He nodded slowly as he quietly resolved until I have seen the bodies of my daughter and grandson they will remain alive for me.
About four hours into the flight, the effects of the sedatives and the stress of the trauma during the past 24 hours took its toll on everyone, and they all fell into an exhausted and troubled sleep.
On arrival at Ben-Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv, they were met by Joseph Carry, a staff member of the Consulate General of the United States in Jerusalem. He greeted them solemnly and drove them to their hotel where their rooms had already been booked. The hotel was close to the Shaare Zedek Medical Center in Jerusalem where Carter was hospitalized. They signed in and went to their rooms, took quick showers, and then met with Joseph, who accompanied them to the hospital to see Carter. They were scheduled to meet with a senior member of the Consulate General’s office early the next morning where they would get a full briefing on what happened.
***
