Ultimate Power (15 page)

The guy shrugged. "That's it, Sam East."

"Why were you watching us?" Alexa asked.

The guy chuckled. "Two things. First thing, I don't feel pain, don't think you're going to torture me into telling you anything. Second thing. If I tell you, I'm dead anyway."

"Well, you're busy bleeding to death, your wish may come true," Neil said.

"Sooner than you think." Alexa removed her Glock from its holster. She fired four times, twice into both of Sam East's thighs.

East looked up at her in amazement, then back down at the smoking holes in his legs. "You're fucking crazy, you know that?"

Neil grabbed the gun from Alexa.

"What?" she asked with a shrug of her shoulders. She turned around again. "Yumi, stay in your room." The door closed again.

"Alexa, our damn floors, how am I supposed to fix these bullet holes?"

"I told the landlord, I wanted carpets. Now he can lay it for us."

Neil stood, his hands on his hips. "Alexa, you can't go around blowing up other people's stuff. His going to kill us."

"Carpets? Carpets? You two are quarreling over carpets while I'm bleeding to death," Sam shouted.

They turned back to him. "We'll finish this discussion later," Neil said, casting her an angry glare.

Alexa snorted. "Okay, what do you want us to do?" she asked East.

"Call me a freaking ambulance."

"You're going pale," she said, glancing at the floor. "And you're losing a lot of blood."

Sam slapped the floor with his palm. "I know, that's what I've been saying the whole goddamn time."

Neil crouched next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "You don't want to die now?"

The man shook his head, his eyes large.

"Why were you spying on us?"

"Someone sent me to kidnap the lady."

"Who?" Alexa asked.

"Oh screw this," the guy said, squinting his eyes. "His name is Allan Sonti."

"How do we find him?" Alexa asked.

"Here," the guy said, handing Alexa his cell phone with trembling hands. "His number's on my phone."

"Why thank you." Alexa searched for the name.

"Now get me a damn ambulance."

Interpol HQ,
 

Lyon, France

General Laiveaux looked up from his computer screen as he heard a rap on the door. "In!"
 

He stood up and smiled as Alexa and Neil entered the room. They saluted smartly.

He waved at the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, please, sit down."

Alexa removed her Kepi and placed it on the table. "How are you feeling, General?"

He chuckled, pulling his jacket straight. "On top of the world, Captain. How are you?"

She tucked her fringe behind her ear and sat down. "I'm fine, thanks."

Laiveaux studied her for a while but said nothing. She looked good, her cheeks had color to them and her eyes had that mischievous sparkle he had grown to love. But was she better? "Alexa, you risked your life to save mine and for that, I thank you."

"I almost got you killed," she whispered, looking down.

He stood up and marched to a metal filing cabinet, pulled open a drawer. "Nonsense." He removed two sheets of paper and placed one on the table in front of her. "You are awarded the
Legion d'honneur
for your bravery on the battle field." He winked. "You are the youngest recipient ever."

"But I can’t—“

"Bah, your humility is wasted on me. You will receive your medal at an official ceremony at the Presidential Palace in two weeks' time."

She cast Neil a wide-eyed stare.
 

Neil chuckled, stood up and saluted. "Congratulations, honored Madam Captain."

Laiveaux gestured to Neil to sit down, then pushed the second sheet of paper towards him. "This is yours."

Neil picked it up and read, grinned. "Seriously?"

"My dear man, when have I ever not been
serious
, as you so eloquently put it?"

"Senior Superintendent?"

Laiveaux sat down and leaned back in his chair. "Seriously." He removed a bottle and three tumblers from his drawer and splashed three good measures of the liquid into the glasses. "Congratulations," he said, placing their glasses in front of them. "Drink up."

They sipped their drinks, casting each other furtive, grinning glances.
 

He quaffed his drink and retrieved a manila folder from his desk. "The man who kidnapped me is known as Moktar al-Sharif, a notorious snake that coordinates operations for the dark underbelly of organized terrorism in the Middle East."

Alexa picked up the folder and scanned the contents. "He's our target?"

"Yes."

She sipped her drink, flipping through the pages and handed the folder to Neil. "Al Qaeda?"

Laiveaux shook his head. "No." He tapped a Gauloises from a pack and offered it to them.

They politely refused.

"Al Qaeda is much more than a motley crew running around handing out Burkas and blowing themselves up." He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply then crushed it in the ashtray. His throat burnt and it tasted like the hair of a wet dog after it had rolled in a dead hedgehog. Ah, well. "I'd rather refer to them as an ideology than an organization."

Alexa cast Laiveaux a questioning glance.

"They would love nothing more than to enforce Shari'ah law on a worldwide scale, but unfortunately they do not possess the organizational or intellectual capacity to do so."

Neil quaffed his drink, placed the glass on the table. "They've been doing a damn fine job up to now, if you ask me."

Laiveaux refilled Neil's tumbler. "Ah, that is the perception, Senior Superintendent."

Neil frowned.

"No, they have had outside help. And Moktar is our link."
 

"Link to what?" Alexa asked.

"Not to what, my dear, to whom."

Alexa studied Laiveaux, rolling the amber liquid around in her glass. "Why did he kidnap you?"

Laiveaux slapped the table. "Now that is the question, isn't it?" He stood up and marched to the window. He inched open a blind and peered outside. His agents sat in an open plan office. It was a hive of activity, agents typing away furiously on computers, bustling to and fro with classified documents containing classified information on top secret people in more secretive locations. They were getting nowhere. He turned to face Alexa and Neil. "You two are the only people I can trust."

Alexa shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. "Why?"

The dear child, she was naive. An optimistic, ignorant bliss. He hoped she was ready. "I set up my own kidnapping. Moktar had kidnapped our agent in Kabul, a man called Alan Turner."

"Why risk your life to save one agent?" Alexa asked.

Laiveaux chuckled. "Not to save, Captain. To interrogate."

Alexa smiled, enamored, like Laiveaux was telling her a bedtime story.

"He was a double agent. I went in to get the name of the person whom Moktar was working for."

"Did you?" Neil asked.

Laiveaux pursed his lips. "Alas, I did not. But I did manage to kill the double crossing son-of-a-bitch. "He pulled a black envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the table. "I received this a couple of months ago."

Alexa picked it up and read the inscription in front.
To General Alain Laiveaux
. At the back was written
From GREEFF
. She pulled out the letter inside and started reading.

Dear General Laiveaux,

I have followed your career with equal measures of abhorrence and interest.
 

Personally, I consider the revolting methods that you employ to capture or eliminate the so-called terrorists of the world to be anathema.

The clichéd saying that one man's freedom fighter is another's terrorist is particularly applicable to yourself.

Your cronies look up to you, worship the hallowed ground that you walk upon. They are the core of the cancer that you are spreading across the world.

I give you this final warning. Back down, or I will eliminate Captain Alexa Guerra, your gorgeous little brainless minion.
 

Heed this warning or feel my wrath.

It was signed:
Cruel One, I. Taste my wrath in All the Nations.

"What the hell is this?" Alexa asked.

Laiveaux drummed the table with his fingers and then started pacing the room. "
GREEFF
, also known as the Green Freedom Fighters." Laiveaux explained what he knew of GREEFF, and the leader, a man called Carl Richter.
 

Laiveaux turned to face them. "Look, we have a mole in our organization. I've known it for some time, now. That's why I needed to eliminate Agent Turner." He picked up his packet of cigarettes, sighed and reluctantly tossed them back on the table. "Unfortunately, our agents are still being targeted in the field, acts of terrorism are rife, and I think we are heading for a major catastrophe if we allow this GREEFF to continue unhindered."

Alexa removed a sheet of paper from the brown manila folder. "You think GREEFF was responsible for 911?" She pulled another sheet from the envelope. "The financial crisis in 2008? Madoff's Ponzi scheme?"
 

He nodded. "All related."

"General, excuse me for saying so, but that is ridiculous."

The General chuckled. "If you think that is ridiculous, what if I were to tell you that they were responsible for JFK's assassination?"

She slowly shook her head. "GREEFF killed JFK?"

Laiveaux flopped into his chair. “Indirectly.”

“How?”

“By manipulating the mass media.”

Alexa frowned, a stunned expression on her face.

Laiveaux placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Alexa, look. If you are able to control public opinion, you are able to convince people there is an enemy that doesn't exist."

"Yes, but how?" Neil asked.

Laiveaux removed a black-and-white photograph of a handsome guy with dark hair. "Lance Grenard, Hollywood Producer and all-around likable guy. He works for GREEFF."

"Hollywood?" Neil said.

Laiveaux nodded. "GREEFF's own publicity machine. At the moment the bad guys are the North Koreans, tomorrow it'll be the Iranians. Popular vote is where the money goes. Hollywood drives trillions of dollars to specific industries. Mr. Grenard is the dealmaker, he sets up public sentiment."

"But why?" Alexa asked.

Laiveaux sighed. This was difficult to explain. "To persuade the economic masses to withdraw money from the country's stock exchanges. The Arabs are the enemy? Make a movie which results in an uprising in Egypt or Syria. The president is ousted by his own people, sent to trial, condemned to be hung or live out the rest of his existence under house arrest."

Alexa tapped her lip. "So their stock exchange crashes and this, GREEFF, swoop in and buy up all the shares at rock-bottom prices?"

Laiveaux smiled. "Exactly, dear girl. Or the oil price increases by double digit percentage points, allowing them to sell their billion dollars worth of stock in the oil companies at a handsome profit."

Alexa nodded. "Okay, makes sense. But why do this under the auspices of a green organization?"

"Sheep in wolf's clothing, I guess," Neil said.

"So who is behind all of this?" Alexa asked.

Laiveaux crossed his arms. "We don't know, child."

Alexa cast Neil an exasperated glance. "What do you want us to do? We're not into this undercover, cloak and dagger shit."

"That's the point, dear girl. Our undercover cloak and dagger shit hasn't helped one little bit." He steepled his fingers. "We need to work our way up the chain of command. I'm certain Moktar was paid by this man. If we capture him, we'll make him talk."

"How?" Neil asked.

Laiveaux raised his eyebrows. "As you most certainly know, Superintendent, all men have their weaknesses."

Neil turned to Alexa and smiled. "What's his?"

Laiveaux folded his hands behind his head. "Well, I have it on good authority that he is addicted to the furtive attentions of, let's call them, ladies of the night."

"Hookers?" Neil asked.

"That sounds crass, but yes. He loves hookers."

Marina Hotel, Kabul

A pretty Chinese girl looked up as Neil strode to the reception desk. The place was nice. Almond colored marble floors covered the expansive foyer, and creamy leather couches dotted the area, creating an airy ambiance. Turbaned patrons wearing white robes spoke quietly, smoking and sipping cups of strong coffee.

"Hi, I'm William Topham. I have an appointment to see Mr. Henry Dwyer."

She smiled as she tapped a number on the phone with her long manicured nails. She nodded and looked up at Neil. "Mr. Dwyer will see you in a moment. Please have a seat."