Ripper (38 page)

“Is this the same man that operated out of the warehouse we disassociated with the professor we were searching
for?”

“Yes it is.” Pete spoke into the microphone. “Europa, the name Mary Kelly; please confirm for the director Professor Ellenshaw’s statement.”

“Mary Kelly, the last known victim of the mass murderer known to London at the time as Jack the Ripper.”

Niles had to sit down. “Who is this man who filed the report?”

“Frederick George Abberline, chief inspector for the London Metropolitan Police.
The man in charge of the Jack the Ripper case,” Charlie said, knowing the story from memory.

“And the person he sent this letter to?” Niles asked.

“Europa, verify and report on the initials of the recipient of this letter dated November 8, 1888.”

“The initials are used for private communication when names are not permissible in official communiqués. The letters
H.R.M.A.V.
appear in many secret
documents from the law enforcement and intelligence communities in various reports.”

“The name?” Pete insisted.

“Her Royal Majesty Alexandrina Victoria,” Europa answered.

“Ha!” Pete said loudly, making Niles jump and Charlie laugh.

Niles sat stunned.

“Queen Victoria herself!” Pete said even louder. “She knew our Professor Lawrence Jackson, or Jack if you wish, Ambrose.”

“The warehouse?”
Niles finally managed to ask.

“That was harder, but once we knew he was our man, not too hard to confirm. Oh, he was an importer of tea alright, and where in the hell does the best tea come from in the known British Empire at the time?”

“India,” Niles answered sitting up in his chair.

“And what have we learned about dear professor Ambrose?”

“He was a botanist,” Niles said, and then his face
froze as the reality hit him. “Poppies?”

“Correct, poppies from India and China. Both species smuggled into London hidden in barrels of tea shipments,” Pete said as he leaned against the desk.

“And what’s the strangest part of all this?” Charlie Ellenshaw asked.

“The queen knew about Ambrose and what he was doing. That means her people knew what Ambrose was doing and didn’t stop him.”

“Now
look at this,” Pete said, “Europa, display paymaster record 191037462 dated July 1884 on the monitor, please.” He faced Niles. “This is another surprise Europa dug up at Charlie’s suggestion. It was an outlay for payment from the Ministry of Defense bearing this Ambrose’s name.”

On the screen Europa placed an old ledger document that had also been photocopied.

Payment delivered and signed for
service rendered to Her Royal Majesty—Lawrence J. Ambrose, one million pounds sterling for investigation into military science on aggression.

“My God,” Niles said. “They created a formula that transforms men into superhuman soldiers, or possibly a weaponized agent that would send enemy troops into a self-destructive and murderous state against their own.”

“Or a dose fed to a soldier at just
the right time would become what the old Viking tales called ‘Berserkers,’” Ellenshaw said as he slowly turned and looked at Niles and Pete. Both men just stared at Charlie, wondering how he came up with this information on ancient legends around the world. When they shook off Charlie’s observation it was the director who broke the silence in the room.

“Unbelievable,” Niles said for both men.
Compton then rubbed the bridge of his nose, raising his glasses as he did. “There’s still a lot of speculation involved here, gentlemen.”

“Yes, but as I am reading it right now, and until we get something that takes us in another direction,” Charlie said wiping his glasses on his white lab coat, “I would have to say that Ambrose tested his formula out on the foggy streets of Whitechapel, possibly
utilizing smaller doses than what was witnessed in Mexico. In essence he used himself as a guinea pig, and the whole damn nightmare was paid for by the queen’s own military.”

Niles stood and looked at the two scientists.

“And together they created Jack the Ripper.”

At that moment a red light started flashing over the doorway leading to the hallway and an alternating tone sounded throughout
the giant complex.

“A Code One contamination alert on level seventeen has been detected. All departmental personnel are required to gather in secure locations for possible complex-wide evacuation.”

Niles’s face turned white, as did those of Charlie and Pete, at Europa’s announcement. Niles Compton was the first to realize what it meant.

“Oh, God, level seventeen is the biological clean room.”

THE GOLD CITY PAWN SHOP,
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

The black Chevy Tahoe was parked across from the pawn shop while the Black Strike Team waited to get into position. The plan was to hit the security gate hard and fast with overwhelming force to bring about the capitulation of the forces inside the building. The goal: to remove any threat from the security personnel stationed at the gate.

“I hope the
men and women you utilize for security aren’t the brave or stupid kind,” Smith said to Sarah in the backseat as he pulled his cell phone from his jacket. “This could get real messy.”

Sarah remained silent, not liking the feeling of being close to the large man. Her mind was on Jack and Alice, and that was all she could focus on. She turned away from Smith and looked out of the darkly tinted window
toward the well-illuminated Gold City Pawn Shop. She could see at least two of the Event Group security staff inside. One was speaking with a young man who looked to be haggling over a guitar that was displayed on the north wall of the building. As Smith made his call he saw what McIntire was looking at. Then his eyes moved to Sarah’s hands, which were folded in her lap. Without saying a word
Smith reached over, removed her sunglasses, and tossed them on the floor.

“That idea that’s running through your mind about breaking free of the car and running to warn your people, that, my dear lady, will result in a lot of needless deaths. We are going to destroy that formula no matter what it takes to do it.”

Sarah looked away from the shop and stared into the man’s eyes. Without replying
to his threat, she turned back to look out of the window.

“Yes, we’re in place. Are there any last-minute instructions or developments?”

Sarah listened to the one-sided conversation but felt Smith move his free hand over to her shoulder and once there, the large hand squeezed, letting her know he was in control.

“You seem to be covering your tracks well. I just hope this Simpson person doesn’t
lead to my Black Teams. Are you sure she is eliminated and won’t cause a problem inside Langley?”

With the name
Simpson
and the word
Langley
spoken in the same sentence, Sarah froze. She knew Jack’s sister was named Simpson, and she was in charge of the North American Desk in Virginia. She swallowed, hoping she was wrong in her guess as to what Smith was talking about.

“Well, it seems you do
have a set of balls on you. I just want you to know that if this is discovered it could blow your whole operation right out of the water, and that would lead government sources not only to your door, but mine as well, and if that happens, nothing will stop me from killing you, supposed good guy or not.”

Smith closed the cell phone and then pulled Sarah from the backseat of the car as his Black
Team moved into place. From the far side of the large Tahoe he watched as a four-man team went into the alleys on both sides of the square building. Once there they quickly set up a transmitter that would send a burst of electronic jamming noise straight into the video surveillance cameras on each corner of the building. His eyes then moved to the large step van as it pulled up in front of the pawn
shop. His fifteen-man assault element was now in place and waiting for him to enter the building. He reached into his pants pocket and brought out a small roll of tape. Sarah watched as he tore a strip off and placed it in his hand.

“This is your big moment. You can do as I say or die with the men inside of that building if they resist. It’s up to you. Either way I’ll still be the happy soul
I am right at this moment.”

“What’s happening with Jack and Alice?” Sarah asked, her blackened eyes looking upward into the dark at the black shape before her.

Smith looked at his watch, raised his small radio, and then placed a small headphone in his right ear. He hooked the small microphone close to the corner of his mouth and smiled at the diminutive McIntire.

“Do as I say and in less than
an hour you’ll be back with them again. Do not act accordingly and my man has orders to kill both of them. Now, if you please?” he gestured toward the street.

Sarah was taken by the arm, and as he started across the busy road Smith contacted his men.

“Team One, fifteen seconds after we enter the shop you will initiate the blinding of their optic security systems. Team Two, at that time you will
enter the area through the front and back doors.”

Sarah knew the drill well and understood that Smith was receiving responding clicks through his earpiece telling him their individual teams were ready. She knew she had to do something to warn Jack’s men inside the shop.

The two stepped up to the door. “Smile miss, you’re about to see the best assault team in the world go to work—something very
few people have ever seen and lived to talk about.” Smith gestured for Sarah to open the front door. “And be sure to place your thumb properly on the pressure plate located in the center of the door handle please. We do need them to read your thumb print accurately.”

Sarah cursed deep inside as she realized the man had figured out the first line of defense for the pawn shop. The scan would be
read and the security men in the back of the shop would not be alerted to any trouble, especially from one of their own. She pressed down on the thumbplate, knowing that Europa was sending a precise rendering of the swirls and valleys of her thumbprint through her security system. She pulled the door open and as she entered saw the first of the Event Group security men turn away from the customer
he was assisting. He gave her a half smile, nodded, and then turned back to his customer, not aware of the danger posed by the man accompanying her inside.

As soon as they were inside, they heard a slight buzzing sound as the electronic burst of energy from outside struck the security cameras on the building’s sides and back. Smith quickly pushed Sarah to the floor and pulled the silenced nine
millimeter from where he had it hidden behind his back. As he placed his foot onto Sarah’s back, the security man reacted far faster than Smith would have thought possible. He had his own weapon out almost as quickly. Smith fired only once, catching the marine security man in the head, knocking him into the stunned and shocked customer. Then he moved the large silencer a few inches and placed another
bullet into the young boy who had been inquiring about the guitar.

“You bastard,” Sarah said as loud as she could, eliciting a sharp kick delivered by Smith to her kidneys.

Smith took a quick step to the left and saw the clerk behind the glass counter look up at the sound of the muffled weapon’s discharge and Sarah’s shout of anger. The two bullets flew down the crowded aisle of CDs and other
possessions given up. The rounds struck the man in the chest and neck, dropping the air force sergeant in an instant.

At that moment his assault element entered through the front door and quickly started up the four aisles toward the rear of the shop. That was when a sharp tone sounded. Smith knew the alarm had been tripped.

“Damn it,” he said, knowing that the security element had been far
faster than he realized they could be. He gestured for his men to move forward.

As the black-clad men jumped the counter, one was taken down by a security marine coming from the back. A spray of red-colored mist filled the air as the shotgun blast removed his hooded head in a microsecond. Before the marine could turn the shotgun on the next man, three Black Team members cut him down. They moved
quickly through the curtain. Sarah heard several discharges of automatic weapons that could only have come from security personnel in the back. As she flinched on the tile floor, she saw another of the Black Team thrown back through the curtain separating the front of the shop from the back. She head Smith curse at the fast response of Jack’s men. Then she heard the muffled reports of several weapons
as they finished the task at hand. Sarah shook her head as she was harshly pulled from the floor.

“Your assistance is needed in the back,” Smith said as he pushed her forward, angrier than ever over the loss of three of his men.

As he and Sarah pushed through the curtain, Smith looked around and saw a small storage area and then the two security personnel that had opened up on the assault team.
One of the men moaned on the floor as he lay in a pool of his own blood. Sarah closed her swollen eyes when she recognized the man.
No
, she corrected herself, not a man, just a boy. He was Albert Petrakis, a U.S. Army sergeant that had only been on the security team for a year. As he moved his head, Smith stepped over the boy. Sarah turned the sergeant over and cradled his head as Smith took in
the back office. He made a cursory inspection for more traps.

McIntire was beside herself. She had never seen such ruthless behavior from anyone, much less Americans as these men obviously were. She was pulled up from the floor by one of the black-clad men, but she angrily shook him off, still holding the sergeant’s head. The shoulder wound was serious and she knew if she didn’t stop the bleeding
the massacre of the security element at gate two would be complete. She looked up and saw Smith looking down at her with a bemused look.

“You had better shoot me too, because I go no farther.”

Smith kept the strange look on his face and nodded, making Sarah think he was about to grant her request. Instead he nodded toward the wounded soldier. “Bring him along. I think he’ll be the key to what’s
behind door number one.” He looked back at Sarah as he reached down and pulled her to her feet and actually tossed her farther into the office area. Two of his men yanked the sergeant up with a ruthlessness she had never witnessed before. Smith passed by Sarah as she leaned against one of the desks.