Last War (25 page)

    
Jason jumped out of bed and ran over to the things in which he always kept stashed together incase he needed quick flight.

    
“Where’s Dany?” Jason asked.

    
“He’s back in the other room.”

    
“Follow me.” Jason said fleeing  his own room.

    
Once in the foyer, the temperature and flames increased. Both Czyra and Jason called as loud as they could to get to Dany.

    
“Run into the hall and pull the fire alarm. I’m going to get Dany. Throw this bag under the table outside.” Jason handed Czyra the bad and tried to navigate his way into Dany’s room. The smoke was thick and heavy. Once he reached Dany’s bed in the room, he noticed at the bottom of the window a few unlit matches from a matchbox.

    
Dany wasn’t in his bed.

     “Dany!” Jason hollered.
“Dany, where are you?” Jason dropped to the floor and looked under the bed. No where to be found. The window was open.

     Jason crawled as fast as he could back towards Czyra. “Get down. He’s not in there.”

     “You think he’s gonna be alright, Jason?”

    
Jason could only briefly look up at Czyra’s teary concerned eyes. “I don’t know. He may have gone out through the window. We’ve gotta get outta here, though or we’re going to lose our lives.” He grabbed his bag, and exited the suite.

     Running
past the check-in desk, Jason shouted the number of the room he was in. The fire alarms in the building blared from every direction. Once out in the parking lot, the emergency response showed up. 

    
“They’re here, Czyra.”

    
“Who?”

     “You don’t wanna know. But, t
hey’re the ones who set that fire. I have to go. Are you staying or going?”

     “What about Dany
? If he’s out there, he’ll be exposed to whomever is after us.”

    
“Look, kid. I have something to do. If I get caught, this whole thing is done. So, I don’t have time to risk myself for an Amber alert. Do you want them to get one of us, or all of us? I’m leaving now. Either you’re coming or you’re not.”   Jason walked towards the parking garage. Soon after, the sound of Czyra’s feet scrambled behind him.

    
When they got into the parking garage, Jason pulled out his keys and pressed a button. A car which resembled his big blue Mercedes chirped.

    
“Is this the car we came in?” Czyra asked.

    
“Yes. Get in the back.”

    
Czyra hopped in the car. This, undoubtedly, was a different car, but he took Jason at his word. “Where are we going?” Czyra asked closing the back door.

    
“New York City. 9/11 Commission hearings are going on there, and I need to speak to some people.” 

    
“Well, isn’t that a prime place for them to capture us?”

    
“Look, kid. I didn’t say no risks were going to be involved in this journey; I just know we can’t stay stagnant. And we can’t take unnecessary risks. Now, I wonder how they tracked us.”



 
Nebraska Avenue Complex  

    
“So, you burned a whole hotel down, you killed a harmless conspiracy theory kid, and you didn’t get Jason? Is that what you’re telling me?” Grambling griped. “You managed to track him, but instead of attempting to eliminate him quietly, you attempt to do so with a box of matches—and kill a kid in the process. Now we’re going to have to do more than the necessary to clean this up.”

    
“I employed skilled assets to get the job done.” Michael said. “And we don’t really know that the kid is dead. He’s just missing.”

    
“What kind of assets? Not my assets. Don’t use whoever they were, again. They’re sloppy.”

    
Grambling circled the big table at the command post. Banging his fist on the table, he shouted. “We need to get him. This is not funny anymore. I have another meeting with the Brendenall Group, and I can’t tell these men that the proceedings are held up.”

    
“Well, how long do I have?” Michael asked.

     “You’ve got two weeks, t
hen we’ll have to go ahead full stream with the plan despite the compromise being out there. Unless you can find me an alternate scenario. We’ve gotta do something about this guy.”

    
“I have serious doubts that he has enough info to foil this operation, anyway, sir. But, either way, I think I’ve got another idea.”

     “Great. Another one of your brilliant successful schemes.”

     “No, really. This one could be better.” Michael said. “Let’s work on the signals that are stored in the satellite used for us to track his body chip. Maybe he gave off more frequencies than usual, then we can see if he has another device or two that we can identify and track to gain the best intelligence on him. I’m cooking up a special plan for him.”

    
“What is it?”

    
“Christine. I’ve gotta take a trip to Bowie. She needs her phone back.”



Bowie, MD

    
The smell of breakfast slowly seeped into the bedroom where Christine lay in bed next to Max. Being nestled in his muscular arms didn’t make her feel secure. In fact, it made her more anxious. Her life was in pieces and she felt whatever was going on, Max could not fix. Not physically; not emotionally. This was bigger than all of it.

    
“What’s wrong, babe? Don’t worry about what happened the other day. The proper people will take care of it. We have the best in the world right here in this great nation. Obviously Jason and all his pals are on the case. You have nothing to worry about.”

    
“I don’t  know, Max. Something is different.”

    
“Jason never told you anything?”

    
“Barely. I know he expressed doubts about staying in the agency.” She slid out of Max’s arms and sat up against the headboard. “But, I never took him seriously. And I know some lady he worked with just died.  He told me not to go back to the house, then when I did, I was kidnapped…something isn’t right.”

    
The smell of bacon and eggs now permeated the entire room before there was a knock at the door. “May I come in?” Clareese asked.

    
Simultaneously Max and Christine both responded with differing answers. Christine with a “no,” Max with a “sure.”

    
Clareese stood silent on the other side of the door until Christine changed her mind. “Sure, Clare, come on in.”

    
As Clareese entered the room, Christine sat in the bed with only her bra strap and shoulders showing. She wiped her eyes. “Wassup?”

    
“I just wanted to let you guys know breakfast is ready and you should probably get it while it’s hot.”

    
Max swung his legs out of the bed. Both Clareese and Christine caught a glimpse of his butt as he slipped his boxers on.

    
Christine broke the silence with a distraction sentence. “So, how’d ya sleep last night?”

    
“Great. I slept great—relatively speaking, I guess. No nightmares or anything.” The awkward moment thickened as the two girls interacted. Max stood by his closet buttoning up his shirt.

    
The doorbell rang downstairs.

    
“Just in time.” Max said as he made his way out of the room. “Did you make coffee, Clare?”

    
“Not yet.”

    
“I’ll throw some on while you two get ready.”

     When Max
exited, Clareese bounced over to Christine. “What are you doing?” She whispered. “This is not the time for this.”

    
“Please, Clare. Spare me. I’m having a hard time, and I just can’t right now.”

    
“Your husband is out in the middle of who knows where doing who knows what, and you’re frolicking around here with—“

    
“That’s right, Claire.” Christine snapped back. “Who knows where, and who knows what. The man allowed me to get kidnapped for heavens sake. Don’t talk to me about—“

    
“Christine.” Max called from downstairs.

    
Christine looked at Clareese again before she whispered the rest of her sentence. “Don’t talk to me about what I’m going through right now. You don’t understand.”

    
Christine stormed out of the room leaving Clareese standing next to the bed. When she reached the balcony she saw over the second floor rail into the vestibule of Max’s house. He was in conversation with Michael.

    
“Oh, hey, Mike. Wassup?” Christine said. Instantly, she felt safer. “I’m so glad to see you, Mike.”

    
“Hey, I just realized we still have your phone.” Michael handed her back the phone. It was in evidence. I figured you’d want it back. But, there’s something I should tell you. I don’t know if you want to be alone while I tell you this. Or…”

    
Christine looked at Max as he backed away. “Ah, don’t worry.” He said. “I’m gonna let you handle it, Chrissy. If you want to tell me later you can.”

    
With Max walking off, Michael wrapped his arm around Christine and escorted her into the adjacent room -- Max’s dining room.

    
“Have a seat, Chrissy.” He said. “In the investigation, we found some disturbing things about your phone.”

    
Christine became uneasy. “
Max?”
She knew Michael was Jason’s friend—his only friend, really.

    
“No, Chrissy, not Max. I mean, yeah, that was a shock to me, a little. But, what was more shocking was the surveillance – data collection -- happening on your phone.”

    
“What? What do you mean? I didn’t do anything.”

    
“No. You didn’t. You see, prior to nine-eleven, a court order was needed to be able to tap phones and wire houses and all the like. But, since the Patriot ACT, it became perfectly legal without one and probable cause.”

    
“Someone’s been spying on me?”

    
“Not just someone, Chrissy…”

    
At this point, without Michael even saying anything, Christine got it. She slid away from him. “So, why—what does this mean?”

    
“He’s been watching your phone activity for a number of months, even interjecting at times and texting you as whomever you’re talking to.”

    
Christine’s insides heated into a boil. “Did you fix it?” She asked.

    
“Yes. It’s fixed.” There was a momentary pause as Christine powered up her cell phone. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

    
“No. I’m sorry he made you have to do this. It’s OK. I’ll handle it. Thanks for everything, Mike.”

    
“No problem, my dear. We’re keeping an eye out on you, OK?”

    
“Thanks again.”



NYC  -- COMMISSION HEARINGS.

MARCH 30th, 2003

HSAS: ORANGE – HIGH TERRORIST RISK

    
Jason pulled into the parking lot next to the building where the hearings were being held. Czyra was just awakening from his car nap. “Sit tight.” Jason told Czyra.

     When Czyra cleared
his eyes, he was back in the original Mercedes he remembered.

    
Jason hopped out of the car and dialed the number given to him by Harold. A man with a monotoned voice, and slight Arabian accent answered the phone.

    
“Hello, Nosaj?”

    
“Yes. What’s your name, and what do you know?”

    
“I’ll use my name as ‘Nosir’. I worked for the Iraqi Embassy here in 2001.” The man cleared his throat and paused for a few seconds. Just as Jason was about to speak, Nosir spoke, again. “One month before the attacks here, I was approached by a C.I.A. asset. It was very strange. I saw her often, but none of these exchanges were this odd.”



August 2, 2001

     Nosir sat at  his desk on the phone. He was attempting to finish ordering his lunch from that pesky shop down the road that always gave him trouble.

The food, however, was
what kept him coming back. It reminded him of his mother’s cooking. No place else in America could you get that sort of quality.

    
His secretary tapped on the door and held up a sign that indicated he had one guest waiting in the lobby. He motioned for the guest to be sent in. He knew that America had a message for Iraq because the meeting was arranged.