The Puppetmasters (44 page)

“Did you meet his boys?”

“Oh yes. What a scary duo. I stayed out of their way and made myself invisible.”

“One last question?”

“Yeah, but I feel like I’m at the Inquisition.”

“Sorry, Paul, but I’m just so curious. Why haven’t you told the Israelis about your theories?”

“I don’t trust them, Frank. There was something very underhanded going on when I was on the ship and then in Tel Aviv. They asked pointed, ridiculous questions about Kendall and Rashid. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were trying to pin all the bombings and probably even the kidnapping on those two.”

“But why?”

“That’s the million-dollar question. I’ll let you figure it out. You’re in the spy business. I have a company to run.” Fields looked at his watch and stood up. “In fact, I have my first meeting with a very nervous board of directors who probably think I’ve gone around the proverbial bend after what I’ve been through. So, I have a lot of handshaking and ass-kissing to do in the next hour. Call me if you hear anything.”

Frank chuckled, greatly relieved that his friend seemed none the worse for wear. He hung up and promptly notified his team of
Prophecy
experts, Alex and Ping, of an urgent meeting and then sat back to await them.

After an exhausting catered lunch with his immediate staff where he kept insisting that he was fine, Fields escaped into his office for some quiet time. Mid-afternoon, he got a call from Daniel at the datacenter complex. “What’s up, Daniel?”

“You’re not going to believe this! The goddamn Mossad Director Zimmerman sent an anonymous email to Omar telling him where Kendall and the other guy were.”

Frank sat back in his chair, stunned into silence. He whispered, “But why would they do that?”

Daniel was disgusted at the people who funded his education and who he had—under the table—granted access to
Prophecy. Damn, this was a mess now,
he thought. His “friends” were fast becoming his “enemies,” risking the lives of the very people he’d like to be friends with.

“What are we going to do, Paul?”

Something was nagging at the CEO. “Daniel, how were the Israelis able to track Rashid and Kendall when the Afghans haven’t been able to?”

“I don’t know. Maybe with a satellite image or use of a drone. Everyone’s got them now.” Daniel was sweating, hoping there would be no comments about the prospect of the Mossad’s having access to
Prophecy.
That was his little secret.

Fields nodded. “Yeah, that must be it. But the Afghans have drones too.”

“It’s clear there’s more going on than we know, particularly with this Rashid guy. It’s just so awful that Kendall has been caught in the middle of it.”

The Orion CEO stroked his chin while he thought long and hard. Daniel patiently waited. He could almost hear the whirring of Fields’ brain through the telephone wires. “I told myself that from now on we would only use
Prophecy
for good, and I mean to do that ….” His voice trailed off, while Daniel’s mind imagined all sorts of odd scenarios. Finally, Fields continued, “Do you think you could disable or sabotage the Israeli military communication network?”

“Well, I can certainly cause a disruption for a day. But are you asking me to render the system inoperable, as in permanently?”

Fields was emphatic. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking. They would need to rebuild their systems from the ground up. Can you do it?”

Daniel was going to have to think about this. He could do it so as to avoid detection, but the Mossad was smart. It might figure things out and cut him off financially forever, not to mention exact some kind of revenge. He could basically lose the very lifeline that had brought him peace of mind through financial security. His offshore bank accounts were fat and growing, but he had planned on more. His decision boiled down to money over friendship.
What am I going to do?
he asked himself.

“Hello? Are you still there? Is that technologically impossible without being traced back to the source? What’s the problem, Daniel?”

“I, uh, I just don’t want to put the company in jeopardy. If it was traced back to an Orion act, that would be disastrous.”

“To say the least. So, how do we do it?”

“I need to use a computer and a network that is not linked to me or Orion. In fact, it would need to involve cloned computers and proxy servers.”

“Can you do it?”

“Yes, but it will take some time and should be done from outside the U.S.”

“Fine. Leave tonight for somewhere like Mexico or eastern Canada.”

“I was thinking Toronto would be perfect. I’ll find some seedy motel that has a wireless network and doesn’t require credit cards.”

“Daniel, I can’t caution you enough about the importance of not getting caught or leaving any type of trail back to Orion.”

“I understand and will double check everything.”

“Leave your traceable cell phone and company laptop home.”

“Absolutely. I know just where to find a working laptop that has been wiped clean.”

“Good. Just make sure you use cash for the purchase.”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Good luck, and only call me if there’s an emergency.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Daniel hung up the phone and sat back, realizing that the decision had been made for him. He was committed and would now set out to destroy the Israeli military communication network.

In Afghanistan, General Omar had received the news that his captain leading troops in the search at Band-e-Amir Lakes had driven over a landmine. He was furious at the stupidity of a high-ranking officer, particularly one he had personally trained. He sent a helicopter to retrieve the body and bring his replacement. He urged the new leader to use the military’s new drones and reminded him to report back on any discoveries.

The new officer, Captain Qadi, was young and anxious to please. He could already taste the blood, and he hoped to be the one to capture and kill the scoundrels on the run. He knew a little bit about Rashid, as they had worked together on a few projects. He’d never cared for Rashid, finding him to be calm, reasonable, assured, and therefore weak. The young captain respected and admired fear and tough talk, followed by brutal action. His swagger was noticeable, and he assured General Omar that he would have the quarry by the end of two days. The latter chuckled at the bravado and waited with bated breath for the sheer entertainment value of the soon-to-be bloodbath. He figured the captain would either be true to his word or die trying.

Four hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, the military helicopter dropped down onto the rugged terrain north of the Band-e-Amir Lakes. The ground had been carefully swept and cleared of all landmines. Captain Jabar’s remains were loaded onto the helicopter, and supplies were dropped off for the weary men. They had been on the road for over a week now and had been patrolling the main roads and highways around Kabul, Bamiyan, and now the Band-e-Amir Lakes. Their jobs were about to get tougher: Captain Qadi was informed the fleeing duo had now gone off road; they looked to have made a run for it into the mountains to the north.

Qadi instructed the troops to create a camp right there near the jeep carcass. In the morning, he would survey the scene and decide on their course. He sent two troops in a vehicle to the front of the National Park to relieve the ones currently posted.

Behind Qadi’s back, the men grumbled at having to sleep on the hard rocky ground and eat foreign-purchased military rations. At least this time they had
the Soviet MREs or meals-ready-to-eat, that included biscuits, meat preserves, and dried fruits. They were not particularly fond of the eggplant caviar. All of last week, the troops ate Chinese MREs, which, in their eyes, was barely edible with the compressed food, pickled mustard tuber, and red bean mooncake. The most distasteful part of the latter MREs was that water could be added to the dried compressed biscuit to form porridge for the morning meal.

They were all anxious to catch Rashid and Kendall, and were beginning to project their anger toward them just for the inconvenience of the past week. Yes, they would make those two pay.

In the morning, the very stiff men awoke to a sudden but light sandstorm. They seemed to be in the eye of the storm as it raged about them. They quickly covered their vehicles from the offending abrasive elements and sat out the storm.

Captain Qadi was beside himself with fury, knowing the ground around the jeep remnants would be altered. It hadn’t even occurred to him yet that any trail left by the pair on the run would also be obliterated.

Finally, in the early afternoon, the dust storm abated, and the entire troop walked the short distance to the twisted jeep. Qadi slowly surveyed the scene, took out his picture of the jeep, and pronounced it to be Rashid’s vehicle … the one that had carried the American prisoners away from the palace more than a week before.

As he looked for signs of personal items, he noticed the jeep had basically been picked clean of its contents. Even the tire iron and loose tools one always carried with them seemed to have been removed. The soldiers had not reported finding any effects, and therefore nothing had been blown away by the storm. That meant the duo had not simply walked into the mountains. He surmised they had either stolen or purchased some kind of animal—a horse, donkey, or maybe even a camel. The animal was used to carry their supplies. The semi-intelligent captain realized it couldn’t be a donkey. His troops had seen the possessions at the campsite of the lady sitting by the fire. They reported a pile of belongings, including tools, cooking utensils, fishing gear, and clothing. A donkey would not have sufficed.

As he explained this to his men, one of the soldiers offered that a camel caravan had been spotted in the distance to the west, just past where they left the Band-e-Amir Lakes. The captain’s gut told him that was key. Somehow the fleeing pair had acquired a camel for transporting their things. He ordered the troops to follow him to the caravan. The men carefully drove in single file to the camel train, pointing out various unexploded landmines as they drove past the offending ordnance at a safe distance.

When they arrived, they could see the caravan was packed up and ready to head out. The captain had good instincts and knew who to approach when the truth needed to come out. He was familiar with these
Kuchi
nomads. There
was no love lost between the Afghan military and these independent tribes. He surveyed the scene and realized that he and his men were outnumbered. That meant he needed to be tough and brutal in order to quickly command their fear and cooperation.

The
Kuchi
men tried to ignore the troops and continued tying down their loads. The women hid their faces and moved away from the soldiers as they walked about. Qadi approached a young boy, dropped to his knees, and patted the youngster on the head. He then grabbed his arm in a firm way and asked him if any camels had been sold in the past two days. The young boy had no experience with soldiers, yet knew there was something scary about them. He saw the reaction of the men of his tribe. The boy was frozen with fear and just wanted the armed men to go away. He solemnly looked into the stern soldier’s eyes, nodded and pointed to an elderly man down the line. The captain stood up, and as soon as he turned his eyes toward the elderly man, the boy scampered away.

As the troops approached the elderly man, he shuffled away toward the kneeling camels onto which he was loading supplies. Qadi yelled for him to stop. All eyes turned to the scene, as this was one of the elders of the tribe. The other men of the tribe approached as if providing backup. They were all armed and ready to defend their honor if need be. The elderly man was treated with the utmost respect by his clan, and they were afraid at the tenor of the captain’s voice.

With slow, purposeful steps, Captain Qadi approached the old man and asked if any camels had been sold or traded recently. The elder’s eyes gleamed with pride and honor … and hatred for this military leader. He shook his head and indicated in the negative. Without warning, the young captain whipped out his sidearm and shot the elder between the eyes.

No one moved, not the tribesmen nor the soldiers. The captain re-holstered his gun on his hip and walked a ways out so that he could see and address the entire tribe.

Speaking Dari, he yelled, “I want to know
now
where the two people went who bought a camel.” He paused, turning to look right and left, and then continued emphatically, “… or I will start killing one man after another until I get an answer!”

Another elder stepped up to the captain. “Two people did not buy a camel, Sir.”

Qadi swung his head toward the elder. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

“A young man traveling alone bought a camel for a quarter million
Afghani.”

The captain thought quickly and realized the camel must have been purchased while the woman was left by the fire. Rashid had probably already smashed the jeep by then. He stared hard at the elder, who held his ground.

“Which way did the man go?” Qadi realized that was a stupid question. Of course, Rashid went back to the campsite to load his things.