Against the Clock (27 page)
"Yes?" Director Zelig asked, annoyed. He was in the final moments of preparing the speech that would facilitate the end of the old regime and the glorious, timely ascension to power of his own regime. In years to come, when history reviewed the world of intelligence, this moment would mark the beginning of the Zelig Era.
"We have Barratt," Smith said simply into the phone.
Director Zelig paused, caught off guard by the good news.
"Excellent," he said. It seemed destiny was indeed on his side. Everything was working out as he had planned.
"I'm in the process of questioning him," Smith lied.
"Any news on Shirin Reyes?"
"Yes and no. Somehow she is aware of your flight plan tonight. I strongly suggest you cancel."
"I will not!" Zelig said passionately. That flight, the people joining him, and the meeting to follow immediately after were crucial to his final plan. "I
cannot.
"
"Then…" Smith paused, as though thinking. "Then I suggest you get me on the flight with you."
"Very well," Zelig said after a pause. "I'll arrange for you to join the security team."
"motivation is a funny thing. it is different things to different people."
the book of seekay
21:17:06
Smith stepped off the gangway and paused on the tarmac. His inspection of the de Havilland DHC-8 twin engine turbo prop plane validated the preliminary team's initial assessment. The aircraft was secure.
Measuring only seventy-three feet and seating up to thirty passengers after modifications to its internal design, it was a simple plane with very few options for concealing weapons―or persons. Still, prior to take-off, it would be checked again.
Thus was the nature of its passengers for this trip. Director Zelig, by virtue of position and aspiration, was a high-value target. And for this flight, his guests added to the accumulated risk pool. High-ranking politicians, power brokers of government, and a few select personal advisors.
Smith didn't know the purpose of the flight or the intention of these individuals coming together. He didn't need to know, and that was fine by him. He knew Shirin Reyes would try to kill Zelig. And that he would kill her once Zelig was dead. That was enough for him.
Again, the secretive and manipulative stratagems of the old man opened to him like a blooming flower. Now he understood why he wanted Shirin Reyes unharmed. He wanted her to kill Zelig. A lone, disassociated, disillusioned, broken woman's misplaced revenge for the death of her husband. With a back-story like that, the press would eat it up, and the authorities wouldn't look any further.
The old man's plan was sound.
Smith walked around the fuselage and looked out over the harbor. Located on a peninsula, the small, private airport was surrounded by ocean on seventy per cent of its perimeter and a large cliff-edged mountain on its rear.
Its seclusion, security, and limited access made it famous among the elite of government and celebrity. It was impossible for prying eyes or powerful cameras to capture glimpses of passengers embarking or disembarking. Privacy was this airport's guarantee.
Smith walked the length of the plane, ducked under the blade of the 1491kW turboprop, and thoughtfully inspected its hull as he circled back to the front of the plane.
For now, he was satisfied. The old man seemed certain Shirin Reyes would make her move once the plane arrived at Silverdale. It made sense. Any approach at this location was doomed. The ocean side was continually monitored by satellite, cabled hydrophones, and roaming patrols. Even a six-foot dingy within a nautical mile would be secured and apprehended in fewer than four minutes.
From behind, there was only one road leading down the steep cliffs. That road was heavily monitored electronically, remotely, and with randomized roaming patrols. The sheer scope and steepness ruled out any approach on foot.
Logic, practice drills, and the failed genuine attempts by a few to gain access to the airport demonstrated a confidence in the facility's security Smith should have felt but failed to believe in. Shirin Reyes was not like anyone else. If there was a flaw to be exploited, she would find it. A part of him hoped she would try.
He walked out into the space between the plane and the hangar. The rest of the security team gathered in a classic diamond formation, preparing to escort the first of the invited passengers aboard the plane.
Smith took a moment to look up into the empty sky, then stared out into the darkness of the mountain cliffs as though he could see through rock and earth. The black air had a cold dampness that hinted at something he couldn't put his finger on. Perhaps it was an anticipation, a hope, a preparedness for a life and death battle.
He likened it to the feeling ancient armies must have felt as they neared the top of a ridge to see an overwhelming force awaiting them on the other side. That quiet moment of stillness before the charge. Yes, he thought to himself, it was a time when his thirst for violence was more readily accepted.
The security team at the hangar door motioned they were ready. He took one last sweeping look at the airfield and waved them on to the tarmac.
21:19:17
The night vision goggles fixed firmly in place translated little vibration through the optical lenses as Shirin scrambled up the steep incline. Her hands helped stabilize her as her feet fought for purchase on the loose, rocky terrain. The heavy and bulky pack on her back made navigating the narrow, almost non-existent pathway more challenging than she had anticipated.
According to the old man, Zelig's plane was scheduled to take off at 21:40. She had fewer than twenty-two minutes. Grunting, she tightened the housings of the night vision goggles around her headband and pushed herself harder and faster up the mountain.
21:19:36
Ben and Robyn sat silently in the back seat of the taxi. They didn't discuss whether what they were doing was right or wrong or stupid. They were on their way to Nepean Hospital.
They were going to help Barratt. They didn't know how and couldn't verbalize why, but it was a shared understanding between them.
21:19:54
Barratt sat up at a forty-five degree angle in the hospital bed. He was still in the Recovery ward. The padding taped over his dressings was largely unnecessary, he thought. But he was grateful for the analgesics being pumped into his veins for dulling the pain ebbing back into his consciousness.
He was alive. He shouldn't be, but he was. He didn't know the extent of his injury yet, but he could move. He would heal and he would find the monster that put him there.
He panned the Recovery room, assessing. He was still groggy and hooked up to several IV lines and monitoring devices. Not feasible to slip out unnoticed. He decided to wait until he was transferred to a ward before escaping.
21:24:19
Director Zelig lifted the cuff of his designer shirt just enough to glance at the platinum Patek Philippe watch on his left wrist. It had been a gift on his last trip to Paris. Its original owner, the head of a large brokerage house, was at the bottom of the Seine. His death had been an unpleasant one.
Glancing at the €32,000 watch reminded Zelig of how far he had come in such a short time. He smiled a knowing smile. After tonight, he vowed, he could take the watch of any man, even the President, and no one would be able to stop him.
Looking out at the airfield from a private viewing room, he estimated his guests would finish boarding the plane within the next ten minutes. He wanted them to wait for him. It was a juvenile display of his power, but he didn't care.
Whether they openly admitted it or not, he was their master. By one device or another, he ruled their actions and their lives. He owned them.
21:29:31
Shirin could sense she was getting closer to the peak of the endless mountaintop. She was panting heavily now. The steep incline and the relentless pace of her climb were starting to show.
The heavy pack chafed along the small of her back, but she ignored the discomfort and powered on, not wanting to slow her ascent.
At this height, the air was thinner and colder; thankfully the underbrush began to recede in favor of a more barren landscape. It made racing up the last of the rises faster.
21:29:46
Ben paid the cab driver in cash. They had changed cabs three times on the way to Nepean Hospital. He wasn't sure if what he was doing was effective, but he'd seen Shirin do it, and in whatever way he could, he wanted to keep himself and his sister as safe as possible while they tried to help Shirin's friend.
Inside the hospital, Ben felt more in control again. He belonged there, and with that familiarity came a sense of confidence.
First stop, the locker room. He kept a spare uniform in his locker, and he would need to get Robyn a set of scrubs. In uniform with his ID tag, they would have almost unfettered access throughout the hospital.
Then they would find Shirin's friend, Barratt, and figure out a way to help him before any of the men chasing them found him.
21:31:14
Shirin reached the apex of the tall mountain. She dropped her heavy pack on the edge of the lone small dirt clearing, defined by low-lying shrubs and casually strewn rocks the size of basketballs.
At the end of the clearing, the small natural platform disappeared, dropping off in a sharp cliff edge, falling approximately four thousand feet to the wide plateau below.
Without her night vision goggles, she could easily have overstepped her position and fallen off the abrupt edge.
The cool night breeze brushed against her shirt, wet with perspiration. It was refreshing, and she was thankful for it. Kneeling down and bracing herself against a large rock, she had an angel's view of the ocean over the horizon and an unobstructed view of the airport and runway 1.4 miles to the east.
She packed away the night vision goggles and retrieved a pair of powerful binoculars from the backpack. The airport was not large. It had only one runway, but the land surrounding it had been cleared, and several layers of defensive fencing isolated access to it.
The distance and the glare on the ocean side of the airport made it hard for her to identify the subtle fortifications along the waterfront, but she knew that it too was well guarded and well patrolled.
She slowly traced the access road snaking around the peninsula leading into the secluded airport. The road was more like a private driveway. It was narrow and winding. It disappeared into the double barn doors of a large hangar.
She could just see the rear tail stabilizer of a medium-sized plane behind the large hangar. The rest of the plane was hidden, another security measure accounted for in the design of the airport. A high-powered sniper rifle from this vantage point would be useless.
Several dark sedans parked to the side of the hangar. She couldn't make out the plates in the dim light, but she had the sense that five out of the eight cars were government issue.
She had hoped the height of her position would vector over the large hangar so she could see the passengers boarding, but it didn't. Without a spotter and without satellite support, she had to work blind. She didn't trust the old man, but she believed him; Zelig would be on this flight. She looked at her watch. The plane would taxi out onto the runway soon.
Satisfied, Shirin returned to her backpack and started to carefully remove its contents.
21:33:56
Detective Leeds stood firm at the door of the enclosed ICU bay. He tried to focus more on keeping still and stoic rather than on the apprehension building up within him with each passing minute.
His mission was simple. Kill the patient who was brought into the room. Make it fast. Make it final. Hard to argue that level of simplicity with the men who owned him.
They didn't just own him, they owned his family, his career, his very life. Kill the patient. It wasn't hard. He was actually pretty good at following such orders. But this time was different.
This time he had seen the old man, and the woman he had met with. He had done his best at the time to hide it, but he had recognized the woman. She was Shirin Reyes
He had seen her several years earlier. She looked different, but he knew it was the same woman. He would never forget her face.
He had been one of the first responders to the devastation at Williams Bridge. He was there when her husband died. He was there when she was scraped off the bitumen, bloodied, broken. And he was there when the feds and NSA task forces stormed in and mopped up the fiasco.
He had followed her career as a point of interest from that moment on.
If killing this patient as instructed somehow put him into her circle…well, that was a circle he wanted to stay very far clear of.
The head nurse had told him the patient was expected to be transferred within minutes. Detective Leeds cursed his life. No matter which way he looked at it, a whole lot of no good was heading his way.
