Love Is for Tomorrow (6 page)

“Is everything alright?” Kate asked.

“Yes, yes,” Rose replied. It wasn’t. Tanya, the name of her nemesis - even if unconfirmed - startled her.

“I have no idea what it’s about, but thought I would share it with you,”
Kate added. “
I don’t think they meant a normal wedding.”

“No, it’s good that you told me,” Rose said.

“I don’t know which Tanya she was talking about,” Kate said.

“Me neither,” Rose said, although she had one in mind. Tanya Sharipova, a ghost haunting her dreams for years. “Did they mention a date or the bride’s name?”

Kate tried to recall. Her mind was sharp as a razor edge, that much had Rose learned. If there was something she didn’t remember, it was only because it hadn’t been mentioned.

“The bride’s name is Nadia.”

Rose nodded. She feared that.
Nadia is not a person. It is a code. The same as wedding.

“Rose I Googled the words to see what they mean. It could be a wedding or ‘wedding’ could mean a terror attack and ‘bride’ - a bom
b.”

Rose didn’
t reply right away. Kate was smart and resourceful. She did not want to get her involved but if any of what she heard was true then she had to know. 

“Listen, if you can do me a favor, Kate.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Good,” she said.
“Try to find out where Olga is going and when she is going to meet her contact.”

“You mean Tanya?”

“Yes. Another favor. Don’t ever mention her. It’s actually best if you try to forget what you heard at all. The less you know, the better for you.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Rose said instantly. The last agent she had investigating Tanya was found in a duffel bag in his own house.
If this Tanya turned out to be Tanya Sharipova, it meant Rose’s nemesis had awoken.

Rose belied the threat with a disarming smile.

“I just want to play it safe,” she said.

“I can help you, that’s all.”

Rose stifled a laugh at Kate’s honesty. She also feared for Kate’s safety.

“I know,” Rose said. She touched the back of her head and ruffed through her curled hair. “You can. And you will.”

Rose took a sip of coffee and smiled before she continued. “I have some calls to make. You will hear from me soon and I hope to have some answers for you.” 

CHAPTER FIVE

GHOSTHUNTING

“Know yourself. Know your enemy. Know no fear.”

Dubrovnik, Croatia

The cool water embraced Priya’s skin, salt itching the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. It was warm enough to swim without a wetsuit but the cold compressed air made her throat feel dry with every breath she took. The sound of her respirator and rising bubbles were the only things disturbing her tranquility.

Fish surrounded her like a swarm. With a flick of her fins, she porpoised through them. The scooter pulling her sent air bubbles to tingle against her cheeks. She felt like she was flying, free as a bird.

It reminded her of when she used to go snorkeling as a kid on the Indian Pacific coast, looking for mussels and pearls. Yet, so much had changed.

Priya lifted her head and returned to the surface. A net of stirring waves glittered through the sunlight. Above, the
White Star
waited for her at anchor. As she surfaced, the sound of seabirds and waves clapping against the boat’s prow filled her ears. Its glare was blinding gold, just like anything that her lover, Usman Salim, touched.

Priya gripped the ladder and pulled herself up. She felt the weight of the compressed air tanks on her back. She hoisted up the dead weight of the scooter with a grunt of effort and stowed it beneath the seats.

Priya left everything else behind and went up the stairs in her bikini.

She found Usman Salim on the sundeck, his dark skin glistening with lotion and pearls of sweat. He leaned back with his Bermuda-clad legs propped up on the table. Priya wasn’t even sure he noticed her through his round shades. She moved to stand right in front of him, hands on her hips. The expression on his face contradicted his body language as his eyes sunk into the screen of his tablet.

“You know the only thing separating you from Dan Bilzerian, are his packs,” Priya said.

“He’s got the packs. I got the billions and more guns,” Salim said without looking up. “I guess
he’s making a decent living playing poker, but what do you expect? Look around you. Do you like what you see? Do you enjoy the view?” He didn’t need to wait for an answer.

They were anchored near the ancient port town of Dubrovnik: A white-walled city that amassed a fortune through centuries of trade. Its advantageous position in the Mediterranean made it all possible.

“I like what I see,” she said, “even though I have to keep it a secret.”

“It’s us against the world,” Salim said.

She felt alone this far away from her home. It made her snuggle in her warm towel and glance at the shore. Everything was strange in this culture, cold and moving fast. The only ones who took care of her were her boss, Rose, who was like a mother and Salim, who was … well, not a father ...but the man who met all of her needs.

She knew as long as she stayed with him, she would have a life that she could have never imagined.

She worried about how long it could last.
Even though they both fought to hold onto each other, their cultures forbid it. For a Pakistani of his status, it would be a disgrace to marry an Indian woman. For Priya it was unthinkable to go against the town elders’ choice of a husband now that her parents were gone.

The two of them together would be unthinkable in their home countries. Being abroad made their union possible and delayed the problems waiting at home.

“Apparently my net worth is thirty billion and set to rise,” Salim said, finally taking his eyes of his tablet. “Some journalist reckons that given rising tensions in the world and increases in military spending I should be making a killing?” Then his face went serious. “How much do you think you are worth?”

She looked down and didn’t know what to say. The proportions of money were unreal.

“I really don’t know how to answer that.”

“Just a wild estimation,” Salim said.

Priya frowned.

“Why do you ask?”

Salim put down the tablet, took both of her hands and held them, looking into her eyes.

“I want to see your self-worth,” he said. “To be honest with you, you are the most powerful woman I ever met.”

She could feel her mouth drop open.

“I’m the one producing and selling weapons that can level whole cities, but you can bring down whole cities without even so much as leaving a trace,” Salim said. “That is how much you are worth. Don’t let anyone fool you, that’s how much you could make if you wanted to.”

Priya nodded. She knew what “wanted to” meant. There were always two paths in life.

“Out of curiosity, I have to ask…,” Salim said. “Why did you choose to work for good?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do and that’s what my parents taught me,” she said. “What did your parents teach you?”

Salim looked at her. “They taught me to win.”

“Well I am going below deck. If you are finished with your tablet, I might need some help getting out of this bikini. It might result in a
win.”
Priya teased Salim. She started walking towards the entrance when her phone rang.

She answered. “Hello?”

“It’s Rose. I need you to come back.”

She looked back at Salim.

“When?”

“Yesterday would have been perfect. Today will have to do.”

Priya hung up.

“Win might have to wait for tomorrow,” she called out to Salim. She saw the disappointment in his face. No one knew they were together. At least they had privacy out at sea. Before he could speak, his phone rang.

He looked at the display.

“Guess who,” he said with a smirk.

***
 

Vienna, Austria

Mini stood at the end of a long table, impassive. Light from the window framed her body, giving her an iridescent glow. The glare made Antoine blink. He looked around the room. Several others had taken seats around the table, most of whom had been recruited by Mini.

“Good morning,” Mini greeted Antoine as one of the exceptions. Despite her young age she managed to lead such a diverse hit squad.

“Now that we are all here, let’s begin.”

Antoine took a seat opposite of Priya. He hated meetings and hoped this one would not take long. There was work he had to do. Besides, with Jason’s debrief pending he hoped he could get away. Usman Salim’s physical presence meant there was more than feedback of his technology prototypes to discuss. His expertise in nuclear weapons was the likely reason. A certain unspoken hierarchy existed in the seating arrangements, with Rose and Salim like queen and king on a royal table. The comparison wasn’t that far off. Salim provided the currency and tech while Rose had the mind, experience and know-how. No wonder she was the head of the spy agency.

Antoine was hoping this would be a brief meeting. He had his own mission to run. Someone was waiting.

The blinds closed and the room darkened. The blue glow of a touch screen illuminated the room, throwing images up on the walls. Red lines connected pictures, maps, locations and individuals. Some were crossed out, others encircled by red text markers.
Rose was ready to show them the bigger picture.

Bekkend’s chair creaked as he leaned back breaking the silence.

Smith did the same but his chair made no sound.

“How do you do that?” Bekkend asked.

Smith
clasped his hands and gave a knowing smile.  

“Rose, I suggest you start,” Mini said. “This is your domain.”

“Ladies, gents,” Rose began. “Let’s get down to brass tacks. The world is in great shape again. Apparently peace does not make a good ruler.” She pointed to the screen and highlighted an aerial image of the extraction site in Reyhanli where Antoine and Smith retrieved Jason. “Jason infiltrated the Al Qaeda Khorasan group in Syria and tracked down an important weapon handover taking place at the Turkish border. We provided the intel to the MI6 which sent in a team to neutralize both parties and seize the weapon. However, they were double-crossed and ran into an ambush. Jason was unable to identify or track the attackers. Based on the probe data, Salim determined that the bomb includes highly radioactive material. So, now there is a dirty bomb on the loose. Salim?”

He cleared his throat. “As you all know, if terrorists were to acquire plutonium or highly enriched uranium, they would most likely use it to build a nuclear weapon,” he said. “However, all known cases of attempted trafficking in weapons-grade nuclear materials do not amount to enough material to build a single nuclear bomb. And it is a rather high skilled process. As a result, an attractive option is to instead build a weapon of mass disruption: A so called dirty bomb.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“There are three different dirty bomb scenarios. First, a low radioactivity scenario, meaning theft of radioactive material from a radiotherapy device in let’s say a hospital. Second, a medium radioactivity scenario. For example by theft of radioactive material from an industrial irradiator in a facility. And third, a high radioactivity scenario. This would be the purchase of a spent fuel assembly from a former Soviet Union nuclear power or reprocessing plant.”

Salim looked around the table, his eyes settling on Priya.

“With the material being from the Al-nusra Khorasan group, I fear we are dealing with the third scenario. For years they have been trying to get a hold of something and now more so to reaffirm their dominance in the terrorist world.”

“Thank you Salim,” Rose said.

He gave a curt nod and sat down again.

“Based on the transport’s course it is very likely the bomb was originally headed to the Caucasus. I recently learned some intelligence of a large attack which I do not believe is a coincidence. Olga Kovalenko, a Russian UN representative will be meeting her contact by the name Tanya. The assumption is that Tanya will provide Olga with information about a bomb attack before the Russian Victory Day on the ninth of May somewhere in Russia. We don’t have much time and have even less info. Our only lead right now is Olga and our objective is to eavesdrop on their exchange and gather everything we can. This is a code red opportunity.”