Eye for an Eye (7 page)

Aziz nodded, then was silent as he considered the question.

“I’m thinking of what I know, sir,” said Aziz.

“I suggest you think faster,” said Bhang, impatience in his voice. “How did he know what it looked like?”

“He had knowledge from someone who had seen it,” said Aziz. “Perhaps Qassou?”

“Qassou was a functionary,” said Bhang.

Aziz looked up.

“I realize you would perhaps like to move on to another subject, Mr. Aziz,” said Bhang. “But you will answer. I know you know the answer to my question, as do I.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“I suppose I would like confirmation.”

“In New York City,” said Aziz, “Andreas kidnapped Iran’s ambassador to the United Nations.”

“Bhutta,” Bhang said, his nostrils flaring.

“Yes,” said Aziz. “Bhutta was involved in the creation—”

“I know who Amit Bhutta is,” said Bhang, his voice rising, staring daggers at Aziz.

“I’m sorry, Minister Bhang,” pleaded Aziz. “I had nothing to do with it.”

Bhang’s eyes darted right, to one of his aides. The man stood and motioned for Aziz to stand.

“Minister,” said the Iranian, his brow furrowing in worry as the aide grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry. I had no control over Amit Bhutta! Please, sir!”

The other aide joined the first, grabbing the Iranian’s other arm and yanking him toward the door.

Bhang’s eyes were black with rage, his pale face flushed red, yet he found a way to control himself. He reached for another cigarette and lit it. As Aziz was dragged to the door, his protestations grew louder, more desperate. Bhang inhaled, then glared at the back of the Iranian’s head.

“Have a safe trip, Mr. Aziz,” said Bhang.

9

LAN AIRLINES
EN ROUTE TO ARGENTINA

Dewey felt a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it.

“Wake up.”

He registered the soft, dry whisper of Jessica’s voice, then the smell of her perfume, before he opened his eyes or so much as moved. She rubbed his shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Mile High Club?” he asked her in a whisper.

“Pig,” she said, smiling.

“We could squeeze into one of the restrooms.”

“Don’t you think people would notice?”

“I’ll shut the door.”

“Oh, my God. You’re demented.”

“Probably, but you look so good in that dress.”

“Wait ’til we get to the ranch. We have an entire week.”

“I can’t wait ’til the ranch.”

She glanced around, making sure nobody was looking, then leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Her hand went down to his crotch and pushed against his jeans.

“Buenos días, señor,” she whispered.

“Come on, we can do it right here. Everyone’s either asleep or reading.”

“You know what I really want right now?” she purred.

“What?”

Jessica reached beside her and picked up a catalog.

“For you to help me pick out our wedding china.”

“You’re evil,” he said.

She giggled.

“I’ve got it narrowed down to sixteen patterns.”

“Oh, God,” Dewey said. “I thought this was going to be low-key. Why don’t we elope? Why do we need china? What’s wrong with good old-fashioned paper plates?”

“This is the only time I’m ever getting married, farm boy. Fine, don’t help me.”

“I’ll help you,” he said. “Just promise you won’t tell anyone.”

Jessica giggled, leaned toward him, and kissed his cheek.

“President Dellenbaugh told me you’re a good hockey player. He said you scored three assists.”

“You don’t score assists, Jess. You make assists.”

“Oh, whatever. What is there, some sort of hockey grammar book you guys carry around? Last time I checked, most hockey players can barely form a complete sentence without drooling.”

“Did he say anything else?” Dewey asked.

“Oh, you mean did he mention how you almost decapitated Tom DeGray?”

Dewey grinned.

“He didn’t tell me,” said Jessica. “Tom did. He called me and said he acted like a jerk. He said he wants to apologize to you.”

“Honestly, I can’t believe you dated that guy.”

“Well, you put him in his place, from what I hear.”

Dewey smiled.

Jessica placed her head on Dewey’s shoulder. She held up her left hand, admiring her ring finger. On it was a beautiful diamond ring: an antique setting, three diamonds of equal size set in a row atop a platinum band. She ran her right index finger over the top of the stones.

“I think it’s sort of cute that you were jealous,” Jessica whispered.

Dewey cleared his throat.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

“Oh, really?”

“The guy’s a douche. He tried to chop my foot off. I exacted a little justice, that’s all.”

“I think you were jealous, and I think it’s cute what you did. I guess I don’t blame you. He’s not that bad, though. Do you get jealous? We should probably talk about that. I mean, I definitely get jealous. If you so much as look at one of these South American bombshells walking around Córdoba, I will…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked at Dewey.

“I’d rather talk about china settings, Jess.”

She sat up and laughed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll drop it. By the way, wait until you see Argentina. It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve been,” Dewey said.

“Oh, really?” Jessica asked. “When did you go to Argentina?”

Dewey smiled but said nothing. He put his hand on her left thigh.

“That’s classified, sweetie,” he said.

“You know I can find out, Dewey. Was it Delta or later?”

“It was an operation. A week in Buenos Aires. Interdiction. We were chasing a narco. Colombian, some sort of money guy. Bad dude.”

“Did you get him?”

Dewey nodded.

Jessica took his hand, leaned forward, and kissed his ear, clutching his neck.

“I think I’m starting to like you,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes, pushing away all thoughts except for the simple thought of them.

10

MINISTRY OF STATE SECURITY
INTERNET DIRECTORATE
BEIJING, PRC

By 5:00
A.M.
, Fao Bhang was seated in the conference room next to his corner office at the ministry, reading Dewey Andreas’s file. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. With him was Ming-húa and Hu’ang Li, head of the ministry’s intelligence-gathering unit, the intelligence bureau.

Several other senior ministry staffers were also present. Cigarette smoke was cantilevered across the air. Through the conference-room windows, Beijing was beginning to turn gray as dawn approached.

On the wall, two large plasma screens were lit up. The first showed three photos, all of Andreas, taken at Odessa International Airport a little over three months ago. The first was taken at a distance, from a side angle. Andreas towered over Ukrainian customs agents as he handed them his passport. The second photo was head-on, from a distance and blurry, as Andreas unwittingly approached a security camera in the main terminal of the airport. A third photograph was clearest. It showed Andreas up close, looking at the same camera. A blank, calm expression was on the American’s face. He wore a blue suit, no tie, and had a few days’ worth of stubble. The camera seemed to capture not only Andreas’s cold suspicion, it also showed a flicker of intelligence and, in some sense, enjoyment.

The second plasma had a file sheet on Andreas: one slide, upon which was highlighted everything that was known about him:

CAREER (known):

• Lisbon, POR: Jan–Mar 96: (mission unknown)

• San Isidro de El General, COS: Oct 96–Jan 97: Anti-narcotic: NIC, COL, VEN

• London, ENG: Apr 97: Assassination (attempted) Subhi al-Tufayli / Hezbollah (mission failure)

• Munich, GER: April 97: Exfiltration Constantine Vargarin (wanted by GUR-RUS) (mission success)

• Buenos Aires, ARG: Sep–Dec 97: Anti-narcotic: ARG, COL, CHI, and BOL

• Montreal, CAN: Jan 98: Assassination Constantine Vargarin (mission success)

• Lisbon, POR: Mar 98: Assassination Frances Vibohr (Siemens VIP suspect in sale of TS info to SAU) (mission success)

• Bali, IND: Aug 98: Assassination of Rumallah Khomeini (mission success)

• Jun 00–Dec 11: (nonmilitary) roles offshore oil & gas industry

Aberdeen, SCO

Edinburgh, SCO

Belfast, IRE

Cardiff, WAL

Valparaiso, CHI

Buenaventura, COL

• East Hampton, NY: Dec 11: Andreas kills Alexander Fortuna (sanction: believed to be unofficial)

• Washington, DC: Jan 12: U.S. Presidential Medal of Freedom and U.S. Congressional Medal of Honor

• Islamabad, PAK: Jun 12: Overthrow of Omar El-Khayab (sanction: assumed to be official JSOC/CIA)

• Broumana, LEB: Jul 12: Assassination of Aswan Fortuna (sanction: believed to be unofficial)

• Mahdishahr, IRA: Oct 12: Infiltration/theft nuclear device (sanction: unknown)

ACTIVE FILE(s):

• VEVAK Tehran, IRA

98–05: (inactive: kill or capture)

12–pres: (active: kill or capture)

• IRG Tehran, IRA: 12–pres: (active: capture)

• AL-MUQAWAMA/Hezbollah

Tehran, IRA: 98–01: (inactive: kill or capture)

Tehran, IRA: 11–pres: (active: kill or capture)

Damascus, SYR: 12–pres: (active: kill or capture)

• HAMAS

Gaza, ISR: 12–pres: (active: objective unknown)

• GRU

Moscow, RUS: 97–04: (inactive: capture)

MISC:

• Fort Bragg, NC: May 99: Wife (Holly) dies: Andreas charged with murder

• Arlington, VA: Jul 99: Discharged from 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment, U.S. Army, and stripped of all honors

• Fort Bragg, NC: Jan 00: Acquittal on all charges

• Nov 12: Engagement to U.S. National Security Advisor Jessica Tanzer Date of marriage: (unknown)

Several photographs were imposed on the right side of the file sheet, including a photo of Dewey taken as former U.S. president Rob Allaire awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, as well as a photo showing Dewey many years ago, when he was a soldier. The photo showed Dewey in a military uniform, a Ranger tab visible on the right arm. Despite its age, this image was the clearest of the lot. He held an M60 carbine targeted at the sky, his hair was short, he was tan, and beneath his eyes were two black paint stripes.

Bhang walked to the plasma screen and stood in front of the photo, staring, then pointed at the tab.

“That’s a Ranger tab,” said Bhang. “Do you know why it has white thread?”

“I believe they were out of black thread,” replied Ming-húa, laughing. He was joined by the others.

Bhang abruptly slammed his right hand down on the table.

“Does anyone know why the American’s patch has white thread?” Bhang repeated, an edge to his voice.

The men at the conference table grew silent.

“It’s an honor,” continued Bhang. “Soldiers who make it through Ranger school during winter are allowed to sew on their patches with white thread. It’s the hardest time of year to do it. We’re dealing with an unusually talented individual here.”

“I have no doubt he’s a threat, Minister,” said Ming-húa, chastened. “But not to us.”

Bhang glared at his deputy.

“We’re not here to discuss your opinion as to who does or does not constitute a threat to China,” said Bhang, icily. “The loss of Dillman is the single greatest intelligence loss the ministry has incurred in the past decade. This meeting is to determine how we are going to terminate Dewey Andreas. Whether or not he’s a threat is no longer relevant. The decision has been made.”

Ming-húa nodded.

“My apologies, sir.”

“Where is Andreas now?” asked Bhang.

“On a plane, minister,” said Hu’ang Li. “Flying to South America. We are fortunate in that he purchased his tickets using an American Express card.”

“Tickets, plural?” asked Bhang.

“Yes, two tickets to Córdoba, near the Sierras Chicas.”

Bhang’s mind raced.

“What do we have in the theater?” he asked.

“We have a woman in Santiago, Chile,” Ming-húa said, looking at his laptop. “She’s junior. I don’t think she’s the best option. I have a contractor—a sniper—in Lima. Very talented. He could be in Córdoba in a matter of hours.”

“What else?”

Ming-húa typed on his keyboard, and a map suddenly lit up one of the plasmas on the wall. On the map, in different colors, was a manifest of all active MSS agents. Ming-húa pointed a red laser at the map.

“We have a team inside the United States,” said Ming-húa, “a cell we could, theoretically, pull out, but it’s a couple; the woman is inside NSA, a subcontractor. They’ve been in the U.S. for a decade. We’d be foolish to risk the loss of this project.”

“What else?”

Ming-húa scanned the map, then pointed.

“We have a kill team in Caracas. They’re excellent.”

Bhang picked up a photo of Andreas. He stared at it for a few moments.

“I want the sniper on a plane immediately,” he ordered. “Use a charter out of Lima, and make sure he knows he’s responsible for bringing in any weaponry necessary for the operation. Also, get the Caracas team in the air.”