The Minders (12 page)

As soon as Jason and Amitis were in the house, Jason and Henry rushed her through the back door. Henry set the timer to thirty seconds, turned on the kitchen light, and ran to the back fence. He jumped over and ran down the small hill to the back street where he had his car parked, with the other two waiting.

“The things you can do in the dark, with pliers and household goods, are incredible. So, now you’re dead. What next?” Henry said, as he sped up and away from the house.

Jason and Amitis crouched in the back seat as Henry drove.

“Now, I will hunt them down, and scorch them and the earth on which they stand.” Jason was holding his wife tight and close.

He stopped just long enough to send Mike an email, telling him they were well, safe, and on the move.

He also contacted Warren Spencer, the CIA Deputy Director, and Jason’s handler of old, asking for a major favor.

Henry drove them to his home in Salinas.

The local police had the entire block cordoned off, especially from the public and media. They evacuated all surrounding homes. Three fire engines were at the scene. The fire was nearly out, with some hot spots left. The FBI and Monterey Presidio MPs were on site as well. The media had been portraying the event as an accidental gas leak and explosion. However, the local police initiated investigations in all other areas as well, as a matter of procedure. Later in the morning, several other black vans and a SUV moved in, well past the police line, driving right up to the half-burnt house, with one van backing into what was the garage area.

They spent another hour sifting through the rubble and smoldering rooms, finally admitting the news crew. They had to stage the closing parts of the on-site investigation just right. This took many phone calls until finally approved under national security protocols. The news media rushed as close as allowed and began filming from every angle. So many bright lights were on. It seemed like high noon but in white. Suddenly all cameras focused on the removal of two body bags, carried by two men each, to the black van. All news channels aired every bit, live and with all wanted details in place. Commentaries covered the death of a decorated civil servant and his wife. The cause of death was under investigation.

*  *  *

Gordon was sitting in Mike’s office with the entire family watching late breaking news on FOX. They truly enjoyed the animated commentary on that station. FOX guaranteed long and detailed coverage. They loved talking about terrorism, conspiracy, and anything that could help bolster their rating, catnip to Murdoch’s agenda, shaping the political culture of the countries in which he operated. They were the best outlet for telling Jason’s demise. That was exactly what they wanted.

“So when’s the funeral and do we have to go?” Mike’s daughter asked with a smile.

“Jason always wanted to be cremated,” Gordon laughingly explained.

Seriously, he continued, the bodies would be at the morgue for at least four to six weeks while going through the autopsy and investigation. We have bought ourselves some time before we have to figure out actual funeral plans, as fake as they may have to be.

*  *  *

Half of the initialed agencies in Washington were sniffing around for details on this new threat assessment. They all wanted to know what was going on, with more than a dozen communiques, from several agencies, going in every direction. Jason received one email from Warren Spencer, asking one simple question.

Everything went as planned. what’s next?

Jason sent a quick response, with more compelling information, a request for continued help and to stay dead in public, and finally, for some time. Spencer responded.

I’ve bought you two weeks to get me some answers.

*  *  *

Jason left his wife behind with Henry’s family. He and Henry then began their trek up to the San Francisco Bay Area. They would be there within a couple of hours. Henry’s friends were well on the tail, following trackers placed on the minder’s car and luggage. With Jason seemingly out of the way, it would be easier to collect detailed intelligence, and to put better plans in place.

These people were not, in any way, amateurish or above killing people. If they could execute someone on U.S. soil, they could do much more back in Iran. They could definitely cause some major havoc right here in the U.S. Jason needed more than his own abilities. He desperately needed help.

Henry eventually caught up with his friends. They met at a local food truck for some coffee and a burrito. It was late afternoon. They were several blocks away from the building in which the startup was located, and the minder’s first stop. An hour later, Henry got a text from his other man with an address in Palo Alto where the minder seemed to live.

The entire group met back at a nearby motel. They chose to be closer to the warehouse than the minder’s house. They were not sure of either location as being part of anything. The warehouse seemed more reasonable and away from public scrutiny. They waited until well after dark. Henry and Jason went to the warehouse. The other two men went to the minder’s house. Surveillance had reversed.

*  *  *

It was three in the morning. The warehouse district was almost empty. Not empty enough to break into one. It seemed as though many of the warehouses were filled with startups, all having odd working hours. Most, if not all, had good security. All were afraid of having their intellectual property stolen. In Silicon Valley, all the money was in IP.

“Don’t these fuckers ever go home? Get real jobs fuckers!” Henry was getting sleepy and irritated.

Henry had to rant. That was his vice. He hated all that came out of this area. He shouted that Twitter and Facebook were all bullshit. Who had time to waste all day on Facebook, and who gave a shit enough to read other people’s daily trivia? What a sad bunch of people!

“But, you know, I found one of my exes on Facebook. Happy I didn’t marry her. What a dog!” Henry said smiling.

“
You
have Facebook?” Jason snapped with a big grin.

“
No
, my wife is on it all the time. I just check to see what she’s doing!” he replied diffidently.

Jason shook his head, smiling. He too didn’t care for the Facebook addiction, wanting to change the subject back to the warehouses. These days many of the warehouses rent to startups, he said. Part of the lease payment was always stock options. A lot of them move out quickly to bigger places, but the property owner keeps the stock options, and leases to a new group, at an even higher price. In the end, he could have options for dozens of companies. Some become rich leasing to these guys, which was not a bad gamble. However, the local shopkeeper, wanting a small space or a warehouse had little chance of getting a deal. The whole valley was great if you were in tech, and sucked for most everyone else.

“I don’t care. They should … wait the last guy in that building is leaving... about time fuckers.” Henry was eager and ready.

“O.k., let’s go,” Jason said, stepping out of the car, with Henry right behind.

They briskly walked to the building, quickly picking the lock and getting inside. Henry had already done a walkabout and knew the building security not to be connected. He had called in for repairs to be sure. The building had no contracts with any security company. Before they moved another foot, they scanned for other devices. It was all clear. Henry was responsible for planting surveillance devices, while Jason was to collect hard data.

Jason worked his way to the office looking through the desk and drawers. It was empty. This was definitely a shell company. He could not find a single invoice, contract, bill, receipt, or any other clues that real business occurred at this spot.

Having taken pictures of everything in the office, he walked over to an open area where a series of computers were still on. There was a 3D printer in the corner, and a large conference table with electronics, brass tubes, and blueprints. He lifted one of the electronic boards, took several dozen pictures, front and back. He placed a quarter next to the tubes and took several more pictures from every angle. He then walked over to the 3D printer to check on the filler materials, taking some samples.

“How’s it going, Henry?” he whispered loudly.

“Don’t rush me, fucker! I need another thirty minutes.”

Jason walked to the opposite side of the warehouse. There was a walled off section with a door. He reached for the door, finding it locked. He scanned the door for electronics. There was none, so he picked the lock open. Five seconds inside the door, it hit him instantly. They were not working on explosives, but something much more dangerous. He counted two DuPont Level 4 hazmat suits, cages filled with mice and rabbits, and a gloved testing chamber. Without taking a step closer, and while standing in the doorframe, he took a bunch of super high definition pictures from every angle. He then softly and quickly stepped out, gently closing the door.

“Henry, we have to leave right now!” he said firmly as he reached for him, pulling on his shirt. This was a biohazard zone and we have to leave ASAP. They left without a trace of having been there and drove back to the motel.

At the motel, Henry and Jason both took off their clothes, throwing them into a black trash bag. Duct taping the bag shut, Henry jumped in the shower, washing himself vigorously, demanding Jason do the same.

“Come on in, I’m not going to fuck you this time,” Henry babbled through the shower of water.

Jason was not too worried about the biohazards. If it was airborne, it was too late for him. Happily, he never got close nor did he touch anything. Nonetheless, he decided to wash down as quickly as he could too. He jumped in the shower, shoving Henry to the side. The other two were deep in sleep when woken up by Henry’s yelling. It was early but not so early. One of them got up, got dressed. Shaking his head as he saw the two grown men in the shower together, he left to get coffee and donuts.

Within thirty minutes, they were dressed and waiting for the food to arrive. They had a great deal to discuss and analyze. The more time passed, the hungrier they all got. It was an adrenaline-induced hunger. The food finally arrived.

*  *  *

An hour into it, the food and coffee were all gone. There was nothing but crumbs left of what were four dozen donuts and bear claws. They were now on hotel coffee, the kind with which you shine your boots. The kind that tasted like bitter caffeinated cow dung warmed over. They loaded the pictures onto a laptop and all started analyzing the details. Jason also brought up the blueprint photos for Mike’s new handicapped seats. The puzzle pieces began to fit together. The dimensions of the chair cavity, the size of the brass tubing, the attached spray nozzles, and the biologicals all pointed to a mass attack. It was going to be a bio attack at the Super Bowl. The only puzzling part was the tiny electronic board and who would trigger the bio release, and how. Henry loaded up those photos, studying them for a while before he smiled.

“I know what these are,” Henry said, as he squished all the remaining donut crumbs into a small ball of calories. 

They were Arduino Boards, but much smaller. They were tiny controller boards used for almost anything you can imagine. They were cheap and easy to program. They came with built in Wi-Fi and ZigBee communication chips, for a much smarter networking capability.

“These fuckers are going to connect all the tubes into a smart network. Man these guys are good.” Henry sat back down, smiling, and still hungry, but very satisfied with his expertise.

The other three men were looking at each other, as though Henry just sang the most shockingly difficult opera aria like a dazzling pro, then busted into deep and heavy laughter.

“Not bad Henry, for a redneck. Who would have thought you knew this shit,” one of Henry’s friends blurted out.

“I read, fuckers. You should try it too!” Henry glared back at his friend.

They continued to analyze every single picture from the lab. They counted the petri dishes visible through the glass door of the freezer. They identified as many of the visible equipment, and any other useful items. From the office, they found only one name. Yasmin Akbari. The name was on a congratulatory note. A note dropped back into the travel cooler by Yasmin in her rush to get the package back to the sender. The note was on the desk and in one of the pictures.

A quick background check on Yasmin yielded the source of the biologicals and its location. The puzzle was coming together. They needed to figure out what and how much Yasmin gave away and why, and to whom else other than these guys in California.

What part did she have in all of this? Who else in and outside of America was part of this plan?
Jason had to find out.

This was the most sophisticated plan since 9/11. All the people involved were highly placed, professional, well educated, and socially accepted. Not the typical poor, angry, uneducated recluse one associated with acts of terror. Not the Islamists you heard about, having visited strip joints in Florida, or who had a DUI or two on their records, all jobless, hanging around some local mosque. 

Jason told Henry about Bobby, asking Henry and his friends to keep a very close eye on this group. Should they make any efforts to move anything, they should do whatever it took to stop them. In the meantime, Jason needed time. He needed to get Bobby out of Iran. Henry promised to keep this all quiet and to give him all the time he needed.

Jason called his wife for a brief chat, and then booked a flight from San Francisco to Copenhagen.

*  *  *

Before getting on his flight, Jason sent secured emails to Mike, with a simple update, and one for Warren, detailing all of his findings. He told Warren he was on his way to Europe to follow some leads and asked for more background checks. He wanted details on Yasmin Akbari and the whereabouts of some assets with whom he had worked in the past. He had the U.S. covered, but needed people for Europe and beyond.

*  *  *

The flight to Europe gave Jason plenty of time to start putting together a plan. He needed to assemble some missing pieces. He needed to finalize the timing, other locations, and magnitude of the attack. He then poured over the names he had gotten from Warren. Trying to think which ones might be best equipped to help in any part of the plan. While on the plane, he drafted several emails and some text messages. He wanted them off as soon as he landed.