The Poseidon Initiative (9 page)

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, either. You know how it is. They say ‘take that hill’, and we take that hill, right?”

Shah hoped a little civil service camaraderie might make the man feel more at ease. Instead he stood and pointed out the room’s single window, at a busy street down below.

“What’s going to happen here without any kind of sanctioned American presence? It’s an open invitation to terrorists — c’mon over to The Hague! It’s the Wild West out here!” He turned back from the window and put his hands on the desk on either side of the bogus presidential shutdown document.

“I guess U.S. travelers who lose their American Express will have to find some other way to get an emergency loan for return airfare,” Shah joked.

Peterson actually seemed to brighten a little at that one. “Hey, that is a service we provide from time to time. Just one of the many things we do here. I can’t help but wonder if they’re using this terror thing as an excuse for downsizing. You know, budget cuts! For all I know, it’s a false flag thing and they set that damn chemical bomb off themselves just so they’d have an excuse to close down a bunch of embassies!”

Shah felt his gut turn over at that. Here was a career government man, highly placed at an American embassy, with such a lack of trust in his own government. It reminded him of why he’d joined OUTCAST.

“Let’s not get carried away. All it amounts to is a temporary cease-operations order. You see it says, ‘until further notice’.” Shah immediately regretted refocusing Peterson’s attention back on the document. He’d already seemed to have bought it;
no need to get him to look at it some more, you idiot,
Shah chastised himself.

“Yeah,” Peterson said, scanning the paper once again, “but we all know what that means.” He raised his head from the paper, thankfully without having concentrated on it further. But now he was staring at Shah’s badge.

“Say, who’re you with, anyway — White House?”

“State Department.”

“So don’t I have to sign off on this? Or Ebeling?” Shah knew Alfred Ebeling was the Ambassador of the Embassy, the top dog.

“You just have to close the embassy down, Mr. Peterson. The best way is to get most of your personnel out of here now. Keep on a skeleton crew for the safeguarding of critical documents, the shutdown of computer systems, data backup to the cloud, that kind of thing. When that’s done, the rest of you leave and lock the door behind you.”

Peterson appeared flabbergasted. “Lock the door behind us…” he stammered. Then he perked up. “And then what? Will we still get paid? Or is this some kind of furloughing, or even worse — layoffs?”

It never ceased to amaze Shah how much these government employees were really looking out for number one, even though they put on such a professional facade of caring about their country.

“…still two years away from my twenty years when my pension kicks in, you know, a lot of us are! I wonder if that has anything to do with this decision!”

Shah continued to shake his head. He was getting the opposition he’d expected all right, but not for the reason he’d anticipated. This guy wasn’t worried about keeping the embassy running so that it could continue to provide needed services, he was worried about his own paycheck and his retirement package. It disgusted Shah to no end. He realized that these were the type of self-serving bureaucrats who had slowly but surely driven him out of government service.

“I assure you that if it does, it would be news to me, Mr. Peterson. To the best of my knowledge the decision to close the embassy has only to do with wanting to at least appear to comply with the terrorists’ demands in order to prevent further bloodshed of innocent American citizens.”

Peterson’s eyes brightened. “So you think it’s just a temporary ploy to keep Hofstad happy and then they’ll reinstate us as soon as Hofstad is under control?”

“That is my understanding, yes. So the sooner you can commence with the shutdown procedures, the sooner everything will get back to normal again.”

Peterson stared into Shah’s eyes for a moment and then picked up his desk phone.

Charleston, South Carolina

Tanner Wilson and Danielle Sunderland approached the main entrance of Amir’s hotel. They’d parked a block away so as not to be associated with a vehicle. Danielle eyed her tracking device and gave Tanner a nod.
It’s in here.

Tanner keyed his radio and transmitted to Liam.

“If you’re not busy come to the hotel and meet us in the lobby.”

The message was pseudo-coded in case someone managed to break the encryption on the secure frequency. Difficult, but not impossible. Given that they’d been chatting during the scooter chase, however, Tanner decided to exercise the caution that was hard-coded into his DNA. Liam would know now to come to Amir’s hotel, and that Tanner meant for him to patrol the perimeter for any sign of trouble while they were inside.

Tanner and Danielle walked up the circular drive and into the lobby, then took the elevator to the second floor of the ten-story hotel. Tanner looked ahead as they walked while Danielle consulted the tracker. About halfway down the empty hallway she stopped. She jerked a thumb at the nearest room door on their right.

“I think it’s in here.”

“You think? We don’t need to be busting into random rooms.” Tanner was known for being sharp with his people, but he was also known for getting results.

“I know that. The tracker does give altitude — which is lucky enough as it is — but it’s plus or minus about ten feet, which means it could be this floor, or the one above.”

“What about the first floor?”

“Looks like it consists of all common areas.”

Tanner put his ear to the door while Danielle continued to consult the tracking device.

“I don’t hear anything in there and it’s too early for most people to be asleep, unless there’s a jet-lagged traveler in there.”

Danielle didn’t respond, but only kept her nose buried in the device.

“Something else wrong?”

“Maybe. The other problem is that this place seems to be built on a small rise — you saw how the driveway is raised from the street and the first entrance is out onto that?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have the blueprints, but since the tracker’s elevation is from ground level and reads 30 feet, and floor one starts ten feet high…”

“Third floor.”

“Right. Plus or minus ten with the error factor, though, which means it could either be two, three or four.”

Tanner exhaled heavily. Then they heard the elevator open, a group of people talking loudly getting off. Tanner grabbed Danielle’s hand and they started to walk like a couple toward the elevator.

“Three represents the average reading, so let’s try that first.”

They passed the group of oblivious twenty-something revelers and took the stairs one flight up. Walking down an identical-looking hallway, Danielle stared at the tracker until it indicated she was next to the transmitter. A sliver of light shone from underneath the door.

Again, Tanner touched his ear to the door and listened.

“Don’t hear anyone,” he said, slipping a hand into his pocket.

“Lights on in the room.” Danielle pointed under the door. Tanner shrugged. They both knew many people left their room lights on.

“Let’s try it.”

It was an electronic key card lock by the largest manufacturer. Tanner removed a palm-sized electronic device from his pocket.

“What is it?”

“Arduino microcontroller. Hooks up to the DC power socket, here…” Tanner plugged a wire from his device into the barrel socket. “This should read the 32-bit key from the lock’s memory and bounce the key back to the lock.” He pressed a button on his microcontroller. “Got it. Now I just…” They heard a BEEP and exchanged quick grins. He turned the handle and the door opened.

Then they heard the elevator chime.

Tanner pushed his way inside the room, hyper-alert as his eyes scanned the new surroundings. He checked the bed. Empty and neatly made. Bathroom: clear. He waved Danielle in and she softly closed the door and latched it.

Tanner pulled his PM9 and did a more thorough search of the room, checking the closets, the balcony, and under the bed.

The room was clear.

“No used towels in the bathroom,” Danielle noted.

“Place looks barely used,” Tanner agreed. “Let’s find the transmitter.”

Danielle looked at the tracker and set it down on the bed. “It’s in here. It’s not accurate enough to tell us exactly where.” She went to the furniture and started opening drawers. Meanwhile, Tanner moved to the closet. A single garment hung from one of the hangers — a suit jacket.

“I think this is what Amir was wearing.” He searched the jacket and felt smooth plastic in the breast pocket. He withdrew his hand and held up the business card he’d given the Hofstad operator.

“Jackpot,” he said without the enthusiasm that usually accompanies the word.

“On the plus side,” Danielle said, moving to the nightstand drawers, “it does appear as though he just forgot it, not that he was onto it.”

“Right. And he hasn’t checked out of the room yet which means, at least at the time he last left, that he was planning on meeting us later tonight.”

Danielle moved to the second nightstand and removed a bible from the drawer. She rifled through its pages and put it back. Tanner moved to the bathroom and checked the drawers there while Danielle parted the balcony curtain to look outside.

“Nothing in here,” Tanner called.

“Balcony’s clean. He must be taking the samples to his contacts somewhere in the vicinity. We should probably just head back to our hotel and wait for—”

That’s when they heard a BEEP as a key card activated the room door lock.

Charleston, South Carolina

“Under a bed, quick!” Tanner hissed as he jogged out of the bathroom to the nearest of two twin beds. Danielle put the balcony curtain back in place and slid beneath the other twin. From his tight hiding place, Tanner worked his pistol out of his pants pocket so that he was holding it. He knew Danielle would be doing the same. Hopefully it would just be the hotel cleaning service, but they were prepared for anything.

But as the hotel door closed and brown leather shoed feet trod inches away from Tanner’s face, it soon became apparent that this was no room service.

Amir was speaking to someone, on a phone apparently, since Tanner observed only one pair of legs walk past the bed. The conversation was in Dutch, however, and gave neither Tanner nor Danielle many clues as to its content. Amir’s tone sounded matter-of-fact at first, but then seemed to grow sharper, more questioning. Then they heard him slam his fist into the dresser and utter a single syllable.

Tanner wondered if his lab tech had just informed him that the samples were no good. Probably. He shifted the gun in his hand. He hoped he wouldn’t have to neutralize Amir, which would be akin to cutting off the tip of a tentacle of the beast. They needed Amir to lead them back to the head.

Tanner also wondered why Liam had not alerted him to Amir’s returning to the hotel. Surely he must have seen him, or did he take a side entrance? Whatever the case, the last thing he needed was for his radio to make any noise now, so he carefully switched it off.

Tanner saw Amir’s’ legs pacing back and forth while he muttered under his breath. Then the legs stopped moving and Amir stood silently in place.

Had he noticed something amiss in the room? Was he looking underneath the beds?

Suddenly Tanner felt a vibration in his pants. His phone was ringing on vibrate. He quickly reached a hand into his pocket and silenced it, but even that motion was more than he was comfortable with.

Had Amir heard anything?

But then the terrorist’s voice was speaking, in English. Tanner realized he was leaving a voice message for him.

“Mr. Kohler, this is Amir. I am sorry to report that after analyzing the samples you provided us, they have failed to meet our strict quality control standards, and we will not be able to move ahead with the purchase. Thank you for meeting with me, but further contact will not be necessary. Good luck to you, Sir, and goodbye.”

Tanner heard Amir snap his phone shut. The response was professional, Tanner noted. But from the way he was breathing heavy and cursing under his breath, it was clear that he knew they had tried something.

He thought fast. Now that he knew Amir’s intentions were to cease all contact with himself and Danielle, alternate courses of action sprung to mind. A spider crawled over his left wrist, causing it to jump, but he remained silent while he smeared the arachnid into the dusty carpet, his mind staying on track like a freight train. Could Amir be deceiving them — telling them the meeting for tonight was cancelled so that they would let their guard down, only to accost them in the wee hours when they least expected it?

Even if that was not the case, Tanner deliberated from the cramped confines of his place of concealment, perhaps it was best to take action now. If Amir escaped back into whatever network of hiding places he normally frequented, then this little mission had been for nothing. Worse than nothing, Tanner corrected himself — it even had a slightly negative outcome, since Amir and his colleagues would suspect someone had tried to trick them.