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Authors: K. D. Lamb

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BOOK: The Puppetmasters
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When she looked up, Rashid was regarding her with amusement. “I’m so glad you like our food.”

She nodded and proclaimed, “Absolutely! It’s tasty, I’m sure, because the cooking is excellent!” She winked at Taheem, who was prepared to be shocked and left wondering if he had just been propositioned. But he was wise enough to chalk it up to a cultural moment. He wondered what Kendall’s role was in the coming days, but prudently kept that thought to himself.

Rashid brought Kendall back to the base an hour later. His manner was serious and all business as he instructed her to go through her things. She would be taking only the one military field bag filled with the items she needed the most. They agreed that her laptop and clothes would stay behind. He brought in Glenn Carson’s bags. She was mortified at having to go through the executive’s personal belongings. But she did her best at packing his bag.

Rashid agreed to destroy a suitcase full of proprietary documents and electronic devices, including hard drives, thumb drives, and memory chips that would not be going with them. He planned to stop near the workout area and blow the suitcase up. Anything remaining would be set on fire. He exited her room, carrying Carson’s bag. Tomorrow they would carry Kendall and Fields’ bags.

He left Kendall sitting on the edge of her bed. She was both excited and afraid of what would happen the next day. She just hoped she would be able to
get a good night’s sleep. Rashid stopped at Fields’ room and helped him pack a small bag of things. Fields became very angry again, at the affront of having been kidnapped, held against his will with no contact with his family or business, and now being forced to choose what little to take for what he saw likely as tomorrow’s descent into hell … leaving the remaining items to be destroyed.
Somebody is going to pay,
he thought.

It had been twenty-four hours since the Mossad had contacted CIA Agent Candace Lawrence, and the U.S. intelligence community was no closer to getting answers about the missing Orion people, Kendall Radcliffe’s role in the events, or Israel’s supposed large-scale drug investigation. In NSA Agent Frank Reynolds’ mind, something was not right. Israel was too quiet. It was almost as if
Prophecy
had been silenced over the Israeli intelligence networks; that a curtain had come down on
Prophecy,
preventing its routine cyber-stalking eyes.

But Reynolds knew that was not feasible. His good friend and fraternity brother, Paul Fields, had assured him that no one else had knowledge of
Prophecy.
Why then, he surmised, was he hearing only the most inane, routine chatter out of Israel? It felt staged, like the information was being spoon fed to the U.S. That notion both enraged and unnerved him. Thoughts raced through his mind. Had Israel, through its cyber spying expertise, stumbled across
Prophecy
and now begun using it for its own purposes?
Impossible,
he thought. His gut was telling him that something big was going down, and that the missing Orion people were smack in the center of it. Reynolds wanted to be a part of it.

He was so perplexed and intrigued about Israel’s secret investigation that he decided to take matters into his own hands. Telling himself that he was being proactive and tenacious, he picked up his regular office phone and dialed Mossad Director Zimmerman. He was glad Zimmerman’s phone number had been circulated during the debriefing by CIA Agent Candace Lawrence.

Zimmerman answered on the third ring. He recognized the unique caller ID info as scrambled and from the U.S. He could tell that it was not from the CIA—or more particularly, from Agent Lawrence.

He hoped these U.S. intelligence department probings into Israel’s current activities were not going to cause a problem. Israel was so close now to its goal. He tried to keep the irritation from his voice.

“Zimmerman!” he barked into the phone, almost daring the caller to speak.

“Agent Zimmerman, this is Agent Reynolds in the U.S.” Reynolds was nonplussed.

“I didn’t catch your agency, Agent Reynolds?”

“I didn’t say. I’m a consultant working with the CIA.” That statement was true and allowed him to gloss over his NSA affiliation.

There was a pause while Zimmerman quickly ran the phone number and name through his database. Neither produced an exact hit. Puzzling, but he could discern that the number came from within the U.S. intelligence community. The Mossad director was disgusted that a U.S. intelligence agency would outsource its business to a mere contractor. He figured this was done to keep the full-time employee numbers down and to avoid paying benefits. He shook his head at the thought that the quality of the U.S. intelligence community really was going downhill. He chalked it up to budget cuts and the current U.S. preference towards nonaggression and isolationism. He doubted Reynolds was even an actual agent … probably just some off-duty police officer looking for more interesting work after hours.

He finally responded cautiously. “What can I do for you, Reynolds?”

“I’m following up on your phone call with Agent Lawrence. I’m working on an investigation in the U.S. involving Kendall Radcliffe. I would like to share information.”

“Like what?”

“Ms. Radcliffe’s whereabouts are currently a mystery. Do you happen to know where she is?” Agent Reynolds’ heart pounded and he held his breath awaiting the response.

“Not exactly.”

Reynolds felt deflated. “What exactly do you know, Director?”

“Not much.”

Reynolds had had enough. He was done with the small talk. “Director Zimmerman, what kind of game are you playing? This is a real missing person. Her family is very distraught. It is obvious that you have a lot of information. If you don’t tell me, then I have no choice but to deduce that Israel is behind this. If so, why would Israel take her? I want answers now!”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Agent Reynolds half expected the connection to cut off. He could literally hear the wheels turning on the other side of the line. “Zimmerman? Are you there? Say something!”

Zimmerman was not about to be backed into a corner. If Reynolds wanted answers, then he would provide an explanation of sorts. “Agent Reynolds, I am trying to protect your U.S. citizen. As a matter of fact, you are putting her life at risk. I am not in a position to give you more information at this time. But I am willing to reveal everything in forty-eight hours.”

Reynolds mind raced ahead. Whatever was going down would happen in the next day. It must be big if Israel didn’t want the U.S. involved. Yet it involved U.S. people, or rather, a U.S. person. The first rule of intelligence gathering was not to reveal anything the other person didn’t already know. Reynolds had therefore conveniently left out the two Orion executives’ names. Likewise,
Zimmerman had not referenced any other persons than Kendall Radcliffe. They were at a stalemate.
Damn it,
Reynolds thought.
I need more information.
He fell back on the fellow comrade-in-arms approach.

“Agent Zimmerman, what can I tell Ms. Radcliffe’s family? Is she being rescued soon, or is she currently in danger?”

There was an ever-so-subtle intake of breath on the other side of the line, and Reynolds knew he was on to something.

“To be kind to the family, Agent Reynolds, I would advise them that you are still investigating. I find that false promises of a safe return are futile and will often prove you wrong.”

Reynolds was horrified. “Are, are you saying she is in imminent danger? And there is nothing you can or will do for her? We can help you. Let us provide some logistics for you. It’s too late to send ships. But as you know, the U.S. has military bases all over the world. We can send in an unmanned aerial vehicle, a bomber, electronic surveillance aircraft, a WASP drone, or even military personnel, if that would help.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Reynolds, but it’s not that simple. Those things would only add to the existing confusion.” Zimmerman adopted a conciliatory tone. “Please trust me, Agent Reynolds. We have things well under control. If it helps, I promise that you will be the first person notified once we have possession of Ms. Radcliffe.”

Reynolds was mildly pleased about that but pressed one more time. “Can you at least tell me this, Director Zimmerman: Is Ms. Radcliffe the only U.S. citizen involved?”

“I won’t know until I see her. But I will, of course, inform you.” Zimmerman adeptly let that line of questioning end. He was not about to open the door for discussion about the missing Orion executives. He continued in a smooth tone, “I will be in touch with you no later than forty-eight hours from now. Is there anything else, Agent Reynolds?”

“Yes. Is Ms. Radcliffe involved in something illegal?”

Director Zimmerman sighed. “We don’t yet know, but suspect she may be involved with something criminal. She is certainly in the company of and communicating with known criminal elements.”

“Fine, I appreciate your speaking with me. I will expect to hear from you in the next day or two.” Before ringing off, Agent Reynolds provided a cell phone number for a brand new burner phone. When this was all over, Reynolds knew he would need to destroy that phone.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the phone. He replayed the conversation in his head, wondering what it all meant. If his team of three just had a country or location of the Orion people’s whereabouts, he could
direct
Prophecy
there. It might take several hours, but Ping’s cyber probing talents were unmatched. He’d locate the bastards. But Reynolds had no names or even regions.

He reviewed the things they did know from the Mossad. It all seemed to center around a large-scale drug distribution network. Reynolds knew there was a marked increase in the supply of heroin all over the world. It was reaching a crisis point and was also believed to be funding terrorist networks in the Middle East. But Zimmerman referenced transshipment via the Mediterranean Sea in his conversation with CIA Agent Candace Lawrence. He even pointed the finger at Turkey and Egypt.

Agent Reynolds sat up. Having spoken with Zimmerman, he knew there was no way Zimmerman would have revealed the true transshipment point or involved countries. Therefore, that info was nothing more than disinformation to lead the U.S. intelligence community on a proverbial wild goose chase. It had always been known that most of the large-scale and high-valued heroin came out of Burma, Columbia, or, at one time, Afghanistan.

That’s it,
Reynolds thought wildly. He deduced that it was either Burma or Afghanistan. They could rule out Burma within hours. That country spoke freely over the wires and never took security precautions. He would have Ping immediately get to work on pointing
Prophecy
towards the Burmese governmental offices. At the same time,
Prophecy
would also begin cyber-stalking the Afghanistan seat of power in its governmental offices in Kabul, listening for discussions of drug shipments or harvesting and manufacturing. At the same time, they would poke around the Afghanistan finances to see if unexpected monies were flowing into or out of the governmental accounts.

Agent Reynolds was hopeful. He knew that he was on the right track. He just needed to narrow it down to the country and the operatives. He was still puzzled about the involvement of the Orion executives. Why had they been taken too? Why did Kendall Radcliffe need them for her high-level drug associations? A horrified thought crossed his mind. She didn’t need the Orion executives. She needed their plane to get to wherever she was going. If that was true, they were most certainly dead. That thought was very depressing and caught Reynolds off guard. Not only had he genuinely enjoyed his friendship with Paul Fields, but Fields’ death would inevitably affect his team’s ability to use
Prophecy.
As Orion’s systems and networks were upgraded through the years, it only stood to reason that
Prophecy,
if not upgraded too, would eventually cease working by sheer incompatibility. Since Reynolds had no other contacts within Orion, and he believed that only a few Orion employees had knowledge of
Prophecy,
he surely would be out in the cold in no time.

He was now really concerned for purely selfish reasons. There was no way Paul Fields was alive. Reynolds’ days with
Prophecy
would soon be over. With
a heavy heart, he texted Ping and Alex and requested an immediate meeting. While he waited for his team, his thoughts turned to Kendall Radcliffe. He was irate. She had ruined his plans. He hoped she died over there in some big drug bust. Now he didn’t care if the Mossad got their hands on her. He just couldn’t figure out how someone like her, with no criminal record or known associations with international drug operatives, could somehow be in the middle of an international drug ring. Well, he told himself, she must be really important within the organization and good at what she does if she was able to fall under the radar as she’d done.

Ping and Alex, Agent Reynolds’ minions, arrived at the same time and hurried into his office, closing the door after them. The older Agent’s face looked grim, but his eyes burned with knowledge and strategy.

BOOK: The Puppetmasters
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