Spy Thriller: The Fourteenth Protocol: A Story of Espionage and Counter-terrorism (The Special Agent Jana Baker Book Series 1) (37 page)

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Happy reading,

Nathan A. Goodman, Author

An excerpt from the sequel,
Protocol 15

Click here to
read the full-length novel,
Protocol 15

1

I AM BECOME DEATH

Somewhere in Pakistan. June 3.

The coal-black of Waseem Jarrah’s hair was distinguishable only by a chiseled patch of white that tore through one side. Jarrah, the most wanted terrorist in the world, put his hands on the trembling nineteen-year-old’s shoulders.

“Khalid Kunde, your time is near,” he said. “You are a soldier of Allah, and Allah’s rewards will be grand. Remember, what you go to do now is but the first step.”

A tear welled in the young man’s eye, yet did not fall.

“I will not fail you,” the apprentice replied.

“You are the younger brother of Shakey Kunde. His name is legend. His efforts to detonate a nuclear device on American soil were valiant, his sacrifice noble. But he failed in his ultimate mission. Nevertheless, he sits at the right hand of Allah, as will you. Do you know the words?”

The young man knew Jarrah wanted him to quote the words of Robert Oppenheimer, the original inventor of the atomic bomb.

Khaild nodded his head in affirmation, stared at the floor, then choked out, “The words are,
I am become death
.”

Jarrah’s eyes widened as he basked in the glow of his new apprentice. He replied, “
The destroyer of worlds.
”

2

A SLEEPING ISLAND

NATO Listening Post, Kosrae Island, Micronesia. The Solomon Sea, 1379 nautical miles north-northeast of Papau New Guinea. June 19, 11:33 p.m. local time (8:33 a.m. EST)

“You hear the chatter last night about the spy plane, that Air Force RC-135?”

“The Cobra Ball? Yeah. I think they were just flying around monitoring a Russki thing though.”

“Which Russian thing?”

“Same old thing. Naval maneuvers. A pretty boring night, as usual.”

“The Cobra Ball flying that same figure-eight pattern they normally do?”

“From what we could tell by watching on radar, yeah. But, they were way the hell out there, on the edge of our radar cup. We were only able to . . .” His attention diverted to a computer monitor in front of him. “Wait, did you see that? What the hell?”

A radar alarm blared on speakers mounted overhead and the two men scrambled to place headphones over their ears.

“Holy shit, that’s a missile launch!” one said.

The other keyed his headset then spoke into the mic. “NATO COMSAT, NATO COMSAT, this is Listening Post Kosrae one niner two. We’ve just detected a missile launch. Currently tracking an inbound hostile from North Korean airspace. Can you confirm?”

A crackle from his headset replied. “LP Kosrae one niner two, this is COMSAT. Roger that, Kosrae. We see the launch, but we’ve got no track. You are our eyes.”

“Understood, COMSAT. We see the inbound from central North Korean airspace, pushing through six thousand feet. Banking, banking now, turning due west. The heat signature of the missile registers as a Taepodong or Taepodong-2 class ICBM. This is the real thing. Repeat, this is not a drill. Given attitude, altitude, and direction, this could be a North Korean attack on Japan, sir. The hostile is headed right for them.”

“Roger that, Kosrae. All stations have just been issued the alert command.”

“The bird is increasing in altitude. The computer is recalculating the flight path. Hold on . . . I don’t think its target is Japan, sir. At that altitude, the hostile will fly right over.”

“What else is directly along that trajectory?” the other man said. “I don’t care how far away it is. We’ve got to know what they’re shooting at.”

The operator traced his finger across the map on the computer monitor. “Let’s see, there’s the Midway Islands, but there’s nothing there. After that . . . oh shit.” The two operators looked at each other. “Hawaii.”

The computer recalculated and spit out new coordinates for the projected trajectory of the hostile missile, and its most likely destination:

Latitude: 22-01'10'' N -- Longitude: 160-06'02'' W

Lehua, Kauai, HI

“Oh my God, you’re right. The computer confirms. It’s Hawaii. Find out what’s on the island of Lehua. Not that it’ll matter if that ICBM showers the entire island chain with multiple independent warheads. The entire Hawaiian population will be incinerated.” He keyed his headset again. “COMSAT, this is LP Kosrae. We’ve got confirmation.” He read off the coordinates. “It’s Hawaii, sir. Lehua, Kauai, Hawaii.”

There was no reply from the other side. Only static.

“Sir?”

“Ah, roger that, Kosrae. Estimated time till impact?”

“Based on the calculated distance of 4,485 miles from the original source to target, and the fact that the hostile is now suborbital, traveling at an estimated 13,200 miles per hour, the computer says the estimated time till impact is three and one half minutes. That would make it exactly 3:32 a.m. Hawaii local time.”

3

TO NEW BEGINNINGS

Headquarters of the National Security Agency, aka, ‘The Box.’ Ft. Meade, Maryland. June 19.

In the NSA command center, the months had passed. First one, then another, and Cade wondered where they went. The passage of time knows no enemies. It has no friends. It holds no grudges. It’s only solace is that it never changes, except when there is a hole in your life that you cannot fill.

Cade stared across the room at Knuckles. Ever since he had met the kid, he wondered how old he was. For all Knuckle’s intelligence experience as an analyst at the National Security Agency, the chin on the kid’s face could barely produce peach fuzz. He looked sixteen, maybe younger. Regardless, Cade knew the kid had brainpower that rivaled even “Uncle” Bill Tarleton, the NSA section chief, and the most brilliant code breaker in NSA’s history.

Knuckles looked at Cade, who was still staring at him. “You look like you’re trying to conjure the next winning numbers in the Pennsylvania state lottery,” Knuckles laughed. “I know you’re dying to find out how old I am. I’m twelve years old,” he said.

“No you’re not,” Cade said. “You’re older than that. Come on, how old are you?”

“Not in this lifetime, pal.”

“Oh come on. We work at the NSA. We’re supposed to be able to find out anything about anyone. You know I can find out.”

“Personnel records are sealed, bright guy,” Knuckles said. “Although . . .”

“Although what?”

“We could work a trade.”

“What kind of a trade?”

“You teach me how to talk to girls, I’ll tell you my real age.”

Cade stared back, grinned, and then started to laugh until people turned to see what was going on.

“You want
me
to teach you how to talk to girls? I couldn’t talk my way out of a paper bag where girls are concerned. Now, my friend, Kyle, he’s who you want. He could convince a girl . . .”

“Well,” Knuckles said, “from what Uncle Bill tells me, you and that hot FBI agent seemed pretty tight.”

The prior year, during what was known as
the Thoughtstorm case
, Cade had become the FBI’s only insider in the sweeping terrorism investigation. At the time, he worked as a hardware systems administrator for Thoughtstorm, Inc. When it turned out Thoughtstorm was involved with terrorists, he found himself in the middle of the biggest terrorism investigation since 9/11. It had been the beautiful female federal agent that had convinced him to be a material witness in the first place, and now he was in love with her.

Cade looked down. “Yeah, I know. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever been around. We worked so closely during the Thoughtstorm case. Things were so intense. I don’t know, I guess we just spent so much time together that we kind of became a couple there for a while.”

As the case ended, Uncle Bill offered Cade an analyst role. Working at NSA had never occurred to Cade. But, with his old job as a systems administrator at Thoughtstorm gone, the idea of being more involved in espionage work appealed to him.

“But what about now? You’re not together?”

“Doesn’t seem that way, no. I wonder about it all the time. Whether coming to work here was worth it. Sometimes I feel like I stepped into a really cool new career for myself, but I lost Jana in the process. She spent so much time at Bethesda Medical Center recovering from the shooting. I spent a long time watching over her first in the intensive care unit, then all that time in physical therapy. To tell you the truth, she shouldn’t have survived it. But, the good thing is, she’s been back at Quantico for a few weeks trying to get in shape to requalify for active duty.”

The hardest part in Cade’s decision to work at the NSA had been separating from Jana. He may have been in love with her, but he never knew if she felt the same way. And, he always knew she was way out of his league to begin with. Both Jana and Agent Kyle MacKerron were now back at the FBI Academy at Quantico regaining their strength, healing from physical injuries, and requalifying as federal agents. For Cade, who now lived in Maryland near the headquarters of the NSA, having the two of them nearby at Quantico was both heavenly and torturous at the same time. They were close, but he rarely saw them.

“I go over there whenever she lets me,” Cade said. “We’re both just so busy, you know? I get the feeling she’s pulling away from me, almost as if she knows she’s only going to be at the academy for a short time, then she’ll get assigned to a duty station far away from here.”

“Where’s she going to be stationed?”

“From what FBI Director Latent tells me, due to her heroism during the Thoughtstorm case, she can choose to be stationed wherever the hell she wants.”

4

WEAPONS GRADE POSTURING

Outside the United Nations Headquarters building, New York. June 19.

“Okay, Mike,” the cameraman said, “they’re cutting to us live in three, two . . .”

“This is Mike Slayden, WBS News, reporting live from UN headquarters in New York. More info coming in on yesterday’s statements made by supreme leader of the Democratic People’s Republic of North Korea, Jeong Suk-to. As you know, the country of North Korea has become a thorn in the side of the United States, as well as other world nations. Supreme leader Jeong Suk-to’s consistent rhetoric and threats have alarmed world leaders. This morning, United Nations Secretary-General Ashanti Birungi made a statement in front of the UN General Assembly. Mr. Birungi stated, and I quote, ‘The North Korean government has made past claims as having achieved the manufacture of fissile nuclear material. Although these claims are as yet unsubstantiated, the United Nations has issued an edict to Supreme Leader Jeong Suk-to urging him to immediately withdraw his quest to obtain a nuclear weapon. North Korea now also claims to be nearing launch capability. If weapons-grade fissile material is combined with a long-range missile, the threat to human life is great. The time is near and the United Nations must act.’

“Tension between North Korea and western allies has grown considerably in past months as the North Korean leader continues in a tirade of posturing.

“To further complicate an already escalating situation, in an unrelated issue, the Russian delegation to the UN is pressing the North Korean government as to the whereabouts of one of their delegates who went missing one month ago on a diplomatic mission to the North Korean capital of Pyongyang. North Korean leaders in Pyongyang are refusing comment, fueling further speculation and distrust between Russia and North Korea. We’ll keep you abreast of developments as they unfold. For now, I’m Mike Slayden. Watch your twenty-four-hour news leader, WBS, for news, weather, and traffic on the fives.”

5

THE OVAL OFFICE

The White House, Washington, DC. June 19, 9:35 a.m. EST

“Mr. President.”

“Goddammit, General, what is it? I’m in the middle of a call with François Hollande!”

“Sir, we’re tracking an
inbound
. Taepodong-class ICBM from North Korean airspace. Launched just minutes ago.”

The president stared at the man, then blurted into the phone, “Président Hollande, mes excuses. Une situation plus urgente. A most pressing situation. Urgent matters of state.”

He hung up the phone then looked at the General whose face looked like the blood had drained from it.

“Where is it headed?” the president said. “Can we intercept?”

“Hawaii, and no.”

“Hawaii? But there’s over a million people in Hawaii! We can’t . . . we can’t shoot down the missile?”

“Population 1.4 million. No sir, we tried. Patriot anti-missile defense systems out at Pearl missed, twice. She slipped through, sir. I’m sorry.”

The president buried his face in his hands.

“Time till impact?”

“Any moment.”

“You can’t mean that!”

“A SATCOM device is being moved in here now, sir. We’ve got two communication uplinks. One to Navy Hawaii Command and the other to a NATO listening post at Kosrae, Micronesia. The listening post is tracking the missile.”

Two young Air Force officers burst into the Oval Office, flanked by the national security advisor and two members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

The captain spoke into the SATCOM’s mic. “Go ahead, Kosrae. The president is listening. Repeat what you just said.”

“Roger that, captain. This is NATO listening post Kosrae, Micronesia. The hostile missile is in full descent. Time till impact on the island of Lehua, Kauai, Hawaii, sixty-five seconds.”

“What’s the population of that particular island?” the president said.

“Zero, sir,” the major replied. “Lehua is an uninhabited outlying island of the Hawaiian chain, about twenty miles off Kauai. But I don’t think that matters. If the North Korean government has finally combined long range missile launch capabilities with a nuclear tip, we could be looking at a total loss of the Hawaiian Islands.”