The Puppetmasters (48 page)

“There’s got to be more than that.”

“Frank, do you really want to know everything I know? Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed in the dark for some of the details?”

“Tell me, and then I’ll decide.”

“Ha, ha! Okay! But don’t blame me if you find yourself knowing too much and it gets the best of you. You know that by now, you’ll never be able to pass another internal polygraph test?”

“Piece of cake, Paul. They aren’t that difficult. One just needs to know how it’s done and then practice. I’ve taken several mock tests and had no problem passing them.”

Reynolds was still freaked. The bizarre conversation was not making it better. “Back to the issue, Paul. What do I need to know about your techie guy?”

Fields thought quickly. He had to protect himself and Daniel. There was
no reason to give his buddy all the background. How ironic. Even Fields didn’t know the extent of Blumfeld’s involvement with the Mossad. He decided to throw his buddy a bone. “He’s Jewish, you know.”

“So what?”

“So, he’s always been interested in the Israeli network infrastructure. He’s studied it, knows how technically astute their experts are, and used it as his guinea pig, if you will.”
Good one, Paul,
he told himself.

“Is that all? That’s not so exciting or earth shattering.”

“I told you so.”

“One more question, Paul.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Did Orion have anything to do with taking down the Israeli satellite?”

“Orion? Absolutely not! We are not in the spy business, Frank. How many times do I have to tell you that?” He held his breath, waiting for the obvious follow-up question: Did Daniel, working on his own, have anything to do with the sabotage? But it never came. Reynolds was outmaneuvered. He was too much of a thinker and computer guy and simply not quick enough to process the information. That’s why he was an analysis agent and not a field agent.

Fields took the opportune brief pause to change the subject. “Frank, I have one last question.”

“What?”

“Have you located Kendall and Rashid? Are they okay? Where are they headed? What are you hearing from the Afghanistan military?”

These were all inconsequential questions that Fields already had the answers to. But he wanted to end the line of inquiry about Daniel. If Reynolds stopped and thought about it, he would realize this. The poor guy wasn’t too savvy, that’s for sure, Fields thought.

“We’ve traced them into the Hindu Kush Mountains where they are currently in the wind.”

Fields played along. “Are they on foot?”

“Yes, apparently with a camel carrying their things.”

For some perverse reason Paul found that scenario almost comical. “So, what is the Afghan military doing? Are they that incompetent that they can’t locate them?”

“Actually, Paul, it’s kind of humorous. They keep losing their captains and having to reorganize.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. The last one in the Band-e-Amir area drove over a landmine and blew himself up. That bought Rashid and Kendall almost half a day.”

“Incredible! So, any theories on where they’re headed?”

“Either north to Mazar-e-Sharif or west toward Turkmenistan. Mazar-e-Sharif is too obvious, but it’s a larger city and they could more easily blend in. But it will have a huge military presence. Also, it’s the closest. I think it’s a toss-up and depends on what happens with the troops. If the two want to lose the soldiers, they should head west. So what if it takes them another three days?”

“Well, if by then the soldiers haven’t found them, they’ll know the two headed west.”

“Okay. Keep looking, Frank. Let me know if you learn anything new.”

“I always do, Paul. Later.”

Doctor Maysah Siddra spent forty-eight hours in DC, where she was grilled for hours every day. Finally, the U.S. State Department, CIA, Secret Service, FBI, NSA, and Homeland Security lost interest in keeping her any further. By the time of her release, they had employed the latest in biometric data monitoring. Every part of her body that was unique—like her palm print, facial features, eyes, blood, DNA, et cetera—was taken and input into the intelligence database. She was then shipped off to Seattle, where ICE kept her for another two days while it finished the paperwork for an extended stay in Seattle under the mentorship of Paul Fields.

She certainly didn’t qualify for an I-9 immigration status, since she wouldn’t technically be an employee of Orion. It had no reason to hire a medical doctor, albeit one who wasn’t licensed in the U.S. Immigration Enforcement gave her a temporary visa allowing her to work toward full U.S. citizenship, if that’s what she chose.

Finally, she was approved to be released into Mickey’s custody with the strict instructions that she was to report in to Immigration on a weekly basis to see how she was progressing toward citizenship and being assimilated into local life.

Mickey was happy to finally get some alone time with her. He liked to know his team and those around him. He was going out on quite a limb for her, and he hoped she would at least be pleasant and grateful. On the flight from Tel Aviv to DC, she hadn’t made eye contact with anyone. He was fearful she was going to be cold and unfeeling and, worse, demanding. While his boss was funding this “project,” Mickey was doing the legwork.

The condominium at Lake Union was ready. Since Fields had purchased the building’s model home that was fully furnished—including two flat screen televisions—he and Mickey decided it would be prudent to buy all the furnishings too. That made the housing details very easy. The deal was closed
within days, and Mickey had the keys the day before Maysah Siddra was released from the Seattle ICE office. He took a couple of his security staff and went grocery shopping to stock her refrigerator and purchase cleaning supplies, including a vacuum cleaner. He had her utilities and cable connected. In the process, he learned a lot about international foods, and was pleased with himself for discovering Trader Joe’s. He thought Maysah would be relieved to see a few food items she recognized, like fresh hummus,
naan,
and organic dried fruits.

He was finally given the go-ahead to pick up Maysah from Immigration one afternoon. He took one of his female admins with him, so the Afghan doctor would not feel uneasy alone in his presence. As they walked into the sparse, dingy office of Immigration, Mickey looked around and couldn’t help but compare these offices with the incredible condo that was being provided to Dr. Siddra for her stay in Seattle. She might live there for a month, or she might be there for years; it all depended on her and how she adapted to her new life. He fervently hoped she would like living in Seattle and becoming comfortable with her new mentors. Everything hung in the balance. She could choose to make the transition difficult by refusing to work with them or try to go off on her own and sabotage their efforts. Worry lines were etched on Mickey’s forehead when the inside door opened and she walked out. She raised her eyes and looked directly into his. He swallowed hard.

I
T ALL HAPPENED IN A
flash. Babar raced past Rashid, who called after him. Then the loud sound of the discharge of a weapon rang out. Rashid knew it was Kendall, and momentarily thought she had shot herself. But that didn’t make sense, since Babar had been on the run before the shot. Rashid ran back to the midday camp spot, and to his amazement and horror there lay Kendall flat on her back with a dead spotted snow leopard atop her. The magnificent creature’s paw was casually draped across Kendall’s face. Neither one was moving.

As Rashid ran over to her, he could see a trail of blood flowing down Kendall’s neck. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she looked into his eyes. “Am I alive?”

He laughed out of sheer relief and began examining her for injuries. He quickly realized the blood trail down her neck was from the animal. She had shot it in the neck.

She stated matter-of-factly, “Would you please get this stinky thing off me?”

Rashid grabbed hold of the two front legs and swung the leopard off her. He then knelt down and ran his hands deftly over her limbs, checking for broken bones, puncture wounds, or deep scratches. She sat up and brushed his hands aside. “I’m fine!” And then she looked over at the dead animal at their feet. “But this guy isn’t! Wow! He’s beautiful.”

Babar was still bellowing a hundred yards away. Rashid went to retrieve him. As they approached the camp site, Babar shied away and threatened to run again. Rashid finally tied him to a tree just out of sight of the camp.

Rashid expertly skinned the animal and laid out the pelt to dry. Kendall watched with interest when he pulled out a sack of rock salt and began pressing it onto the flesh side of the hide. “So that’s why you were carrying all that salt.”

Rashid nodded. “When you go up into the mountains around here, you have to be prepared. This is a beautiful hide. If we don’t dry it correctly, it’ll spoil and rot.” He hung the hide at an angle in the hot sun and then set about to cut the meat into long strips. Just as he had done with the carp from the Band-e-Amir
Lake, he followed the same process and within two hours had strips of meat hanging on every available string he had.

“Are we going to make camp here?”

Rashid frowned, looked up at the sun, and shook his head. “We can’t. We need to move away from the gut pile. It’s going to bring every jackal around. We’re probably already surrounded.”

Kendall looked around nervously. “Do you think the leopard was stalking us?”

“I’m afraid so. And that was my mistake. I saw the telltale signs of fresh scat. I just assumed it was tracking another animal. Snow leopards are stealthy and usually hide. That this one came out in the open for us to see, is a little unusual. Maybe its den is close by, or it had a kill it was working on and saw us as a threat. Anyway, you see that Babar is still going nuts. He can smell the gut pile. We need to travel another hour to get away from the fresh blood here.”

They had a quick drink of tea and ate some fresh meat. It didn’t taste too bad, Kendall thought. But the idea of eating any raw meat had her stomach roiling in protest. Finally, they packed up their things. Babar was very unhappy and skittish as they loaded the strings of meat over his back.

They climbed higher up the mountain and came to a clearing that broke into a wide meadow. They made camp on the edge of the trees, and this time had to set up the tent. Rashid showed Kendall how to collect fresh, wild vegetables and herbs. He cooked up some of the meat and added the vegetables. The evening meal was fresh and delicious. Kendall thought the leopard meat tasted like pork loin.

When they climbed into the tent at the end of the day, they realized they could hear the rush of a waterfall not too far away. Rashid promised her they would search it out in the morning and she could bathe. She had only flung some water on her arms and neck to get the leopard blood off her. She was sure she was beginning to smell rank.

In the early morning, they searched out the source of the running water, and Kendall was delighted to see a gentle waterfall cascading away from a rock cliff and into a perfect-sized pool. The area was surrounded by trees, and it offered as much privacy as she wanted. Before Rashid could change his mind, she grabbed up her things and promised him she would be back within thirty minutes. He smiled and decided they would take their time this morning.

The ideal setting for the waterfall had not escaped his notice. He fully intended to wash a few layers of grime off as well.

She was just finishing her third cup of green tea for the morning when Rashid strolled up looking clean and smelling of pomegranates. He surveyed the campsite, deciding what to do first.

They were soon on their way north and made good time, staying at the tree line or taking breaks in various caves they ran across. The search helicopters continued running from the Band-e-Amir Lakes up north to Mazar-e-Sharif. They stayed well to the east of where Rashid and Kendall were traveling. The two were surprised to see additional helicopters to the west of them as well on this day. Obviously, Omar was concerned the duo were possibly headed west for Iran or Turkmenistan.

Just after leaving the Band-e-Amir Lakes, Rashid had toyed with the idea of heading west or stopping at some of the small cities on the way north, like Sar-e Pol. But with the concentration of helicopters roaming the mountainside on both east and west of the route that would lead them to Mazar-e-Sharif, he decided to go the entire way without stopping at any of the little cities and towns along the route. They had done fairly well so far on their own, except for the unfortunate incident with the soldiers the day before. If they just remained on alert and stayed on course through the back trails and maybe even off the beaten path, they should make it to Mazar-e-Sharif without any further interruptions.

The sky was particularly blue this summer day, and it had been quiet as they trudged along on the last leg of their journey before they made camp for the night. They came upon a beautiful meadow dotted with funny-looking round huts. There were a hundred goats and sheep grazing on the pasture land.