Chapter Eight

September 26 - Iraq

Hi John,

I hope you're keeping these emails safe, and the attachments even safer. Things are getting messy here. We got Murphy back from the insurgents, but he's not in good shape. I went to see him last night. They worked him over pretty good before our boys got to him. I managed to talk to him for a few minutes alone. He told me they were questioning him about troop movements. They wanted to know where we were going and when, that kind of thing. Seemed like pretty standard stuff, until he told me about the house in town. Somehow, they found out he was asking questions that day, and wanted to know why. Then they asked about me by name. Murphy says he didn't talk at all, but I can't trust that as gospel truth, even though I want to. How the hell did they get my name? They know who I am, but I still have no idea who they are.

I'm getting closer, though. I found the manifests for those two crates that were supposedly destroyed. I'm attaching them here, along with several others - all listed as destroyed or missing. They all have one thing in common: weapons. All the crates contained weapons and ammunition. I'm convinced someone here is selling our gear directly to the insurgents.

This goes to levels I can't easily touch, but there is someone who might be able to help. He's a war hero, ex-Army, and he works in intelligence now. He's out here on some kind of diplomatic mission and is scheduled to visit tomorrow. If anyone can help me, it's him. I have to try, anyway. Hopefully, I can get a few minutes with him alone. That's all I need.

For God's sake, keep these attachments sealed and hidden away. This is a court martial at the very least if I’m caught sending these, but I don't see any other way. I don't know who I can trust, or who’s in on it. There's no way only one person is doing all this.

Hopefully I have good news the next time I write.

Give Lina my love,

Dave

Alina waited until the bank employee left the cubicle before moving to the small table and opening the safe deposit box. After striking out at both St. Peter's Church and the parking garage in the city, she had been stumped. There were only a handful of places where she knew Kyle March had been during his short stint in New Jersey, and she had checked them all. None of them held any clue as to the location of John's external drive. Yet, the letter Kyle had left for her in his hotel room said that she was the only one who would know where to look. When none of his known locations proved enlightening, Viper had turned to the one thing that always came through for her: the internet. Her third search got an immediate hit. Jordan Murphy was in Cherry Hill last week, opening a safe deposit box at the same bank and branch that John Smithe had used.

When Alina approached the bank manager, she got another shock. There was one other owner on the box, and it was Raven Woods. When Kyle found her house, he must have looked up the public records. Raven Woods was the name on the deed, mortgage, and note.

Alina shook her head as she lifted the lid off the box. Kyle had been nothing if not thorough. She had the disturbing sense that she could have easily respected the man, if he hadn't killed John. Whether he was doing his job or not, he'd killed John and almost killed Hawk. With those two acts, he'd signed his own death warrant.

She lifted a slim external drive from the box and raised an eyebrow, pulling a tattered spiral notebook out after it. Old doodles and band names were scrawled absently across the cover in John's handwriting and her lips tightened. Even with him dead, the familiar writing managed to pull at an emotion that she kept firmly buried deep inside. She set the hard drive and notebook on the table and turned her attention back to the box. There was one other item on the bottom, a single sheet of paper, folded in half. She lifted it out curiously and opened it. Scrawled across the paper was a ten-digit number. Underneath, Kyle had written the name of one of the largest banks in Singapore. Her eyes narrowed sharply.

The man seated at the desk glanced over to his phone as a red light began flashing near the handset. He sighed imperceptibly and pulled his attention away from his monitor, reaching for the phone.

“Yes? What is it?” His tone made it clear that he wasn't happy with the interruption.

“I'm sorry to bother you, sir,” said a male voice. “You said you wanted to be informed if we got hits on any of the priority one keywords.”

Swearing softly, the man gazed across the office at the opposite wall. He was quiet for a long moment.

“Send a team,” he said finally. “If they see the target, they have full authority to take her out.”

The man hung up and continued to stare across the room thoughtfully. Jordan Murphy was dead, along with everyone who knew of him; or so he had thought. The only explanation for his name surfacing at a bank in New Jersey was Viper.

His lips thinned into an unpleasant expression and the man clenched one hand into a fist on the arm of his ergonomic office chair. She had gone beyond being a thorn in his side long ago, and now she was threatening to tear down everything he had spent years building. How she had learned of Jordan Murphy was immaterial, but she clearly had, and that made everything much more complicated. If she knew about Jordan Murphy, it was just possible that she knew about Iraq. It was a very slim possibility, but if he had learned one thing over the years, it was that with Viper the impossible was not only possible, but almost guaranteed.

Michael's voice filled the Jeep as Alina accelerated through a traffic light and turned onto Rt. 70 east.

“I'm in the truck, on my way to the hardware store,” he answered. “What's up?”

“I need you to look into a bank account number for me,” she said. “Do you have a way to write it down?”

“Hold on.” She heard the tell-tale click of a turn signal through the phone, and a moment later the sound of a glove box opening. “Shoot.”

“Is it the same bank Carmichael used?” Alina asked, glancing in her rearview mirror. A frown crossed her lips, and she moved into the right lane of the highway.

“No, but this is another large Singapore bank. Why the sudden activity in Southeast Asia?”

“That's what you're going to find out. Be careful. I don't know whose account that is, but I don't like the coincidence. Find out who's on the account and see if there's any connection to Carmichael, but don't cause any waves. I don't know if it will send up any flags but, if it does, they won't be good ones.”

Viper disconnected and glanced in her mirror again. A black SUV was four cars back. It had been there since before she pulled onto the highway. When she switched lanes, so did the SUV. That was never a good sign.

The mid-morning traffic was fairly light by Cherry Hill standards, and she slowed as she approached a red light. This section of the town was always congested due to the large amount of shopping and eating districts, but even so, the SUV was making no attempt to be discreet; it was staying close. She came to a halt behind a teal-blue hybrid sitting at the light. Keeping one eye on the SUV in the rearview mirror, she opened the console between the seats and extracted a fully loaded 9mm Glock. She set it in one of the empty cup holders, the handle facing her so that she could grab it easily.

The light turned green, and the hybrid went through the intersection. Instead of following, Viper turned sharply down the narrow side street, pressing the gas pedal down as soon as she completed the turn. By the time the SUV careened around the corner, she was four blocks down and turning onto a sleepy backroad that wound through the old neighborhoods of Cherry Hill.

She had known it was a risk going to the bank when she decided to do it. Viper had weighed the pros and cons and made the only decision possible. She had no choice. She needed the hard drive, and she needed to get it before someone else did. Now, of course, the risk was being fully realized.

Alina flew through the residential streets, the SUV following. Glancing in her side mirror, she pressed her lips together grimly. She wasn't going to be able to outrun them. If she’d had the Shelby, there would be no contest, but the Jeep was slower and its height made it cumbersome. The only thing she had on her side was the Jeep's maneuverability. The SUV was bigger and faster, but it couldn't turn worth a damn. Of course, neither could she at this speed.

Ahead was a stop sign, and there the road ended. She had the option of turning left or right, but straight ahead was a wall of trees. Viper looked in her rearview mirror and saw the SUV gaining ground quickly. She turned her attention forward again as another SUV crossed in front of the intersection, turning and angling across the road, effectively blocking her from reaching the cross street.

Viper slammed on her brakes, her heart pounding in her chest as the distance between her and the new threat closed more rapidly than she liked. The tires squealed and the Jeep slid as the wheels locked. The SUV behind her was forced to brake as well or risk running into her, and that was just what she wanted. As her Jeep left thick, black skid marks along the pavement behind her, she reached for her Glock.

Before the Jeep came to a stop, Viper leaned to her left and fired four shots into the Escalade blocking the road before her. The passengers window cracked and shattered with her first shot and her second went into the neck of the large man in the passenger seat. He fell sideways and her third bullet hit the driver’s temple. The fourth entered the passenger's chest. The Jeep shuddered to a stop and Alina fired two more shots, this time at the front and back tires facing her. The Escalade wasn't going anywhere.

A gunshot cracked out behind her and she felt the Jeep shudder again as the bullet hit her tailgate. Throwing it into reverse, she hit the gas and braced herself. The Jeep responded instantly, flying backwards to slam into the SUV behind her. The impact threw her forward but she recovered swiftly, throwing it back into drive and spinning the wheel. She shifted into four-wheel drive and hit the gas, driving over the curb to her right. Crossing the sidewalk, the Jeep climbed effortlessly up the incline of a perfectly manicured hill in someone's front lawn. Turning the wheel, she angled the vehicle parallel with the house and twisted in her seat. The SUV was attempting to follow her, with the passenger taking aim out of his window. As it careened over the curb, his shot went wide, missing her and shattering a front window in the house behind her instead. The SUV hit the gas and went over the sidewalk, but Viper had the high ground. Bracing one arm on the door, she aimed and fired rapidly.

The first bullet went through the windshield and entered the chest of the driver, followed closely by one in his forehead. His head was thrown backwards and the SUV immediately lost speed as his foot came off the gas pedal. The passenger leaned over and tried to grab the wheel, looking up at her just as a bullet struck his forehead.

Viper turned back to her steering wheel and guided the Jeep down the side of the hill and around the Escalade. She shifted out of four-wheel drive as she came back onto pavement and turned the corner, accelerating out of the neighborhood and leaving four dead men behind.

Harry paid for his coffee and accepted the tall paper cup from the vendor. He grabbed a heat sleeve and slid the cup into it before turning away from the cart. A cloud passed in front of the sun as he walked down the wide avenue through the park, sipping his coffee. Spring was in full throttle and a warm breeze blew off the Potomac, skimming his bald head and carrying a fresh scent of cherry blossoms.

He took a deep breath and watched as a pair of geese pecked at the grass near the embankment. Spring in Washington, DC was always hopeful in his mind. The air was clean and refreshing after a long winter, the sun was warm and everything was coming back to life. Flowers peeked through the underbrush and trees were covered in buds. It was the beginning of something new, and every year it had the power to move him.

He walked along the edge of the avenue, leaning occasionally on his cane, sipping his coffee and enjoying the early afternoon. Foot traffic was light, consisting mainly of soccer moms, with their babies in strollers, and retirees out for their afternoon constitutional.

“The same as always,” he said amiably. “Hot and full of caffeine. How are you, Charlie?”

“Keeping busy,” Charlie said, falling into step beside him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Since when do you have to thank me? You know I prefer these meetings over the formal ones in the board rooms.”

“I'm just coming from one of those, and I’ve got another one on the Hill in an hour. It's a busy week, I'm afraid.”

“You know what's on my mind. I've got assets being targeted all over the globe. You promised me results last week, and I haven't heard anything since.”

“I had a feeling that's what you wanted to talk about,” he said ruefully. “I was hoping to have better news for you by the time you got around to asking me.”

“I told you that I had something in play that would confirm whether or not I had leaks in DHS. That was true, and it worked. I was able to confirm that two assistant directors have been exposing classified information online.”

“They disappeared and I assumed they were running. I didn't contact you because I had all intentions of finding and interrogating them, and then passing them on to you. Before I could do that, they were foolish enough to skid off the road in the Shenandoah Mountains. The wreck was found by a park ranger yesterday.”

“The car went off at a remote point on the mountain drive and landed in the middle of nowhere on the side of the mountain. By the time a Ranger saw the wreck and went to investigate, nature had, ah, taken it's share.”

Charlie shot him an impatient look. “What the hell are you trying to say, Harry?”

“Wild animals, Charlie. There wasn't much left, apparently. Most of the major organs were gone, making it impossible to determine an exact time of death. Based on the amount of meat left, they came up with five, maybe six days ago.”

“Hard to say. The car rolled down the mountain so there was enough vehicular damage to go around. It could have been an accident, or it could not have been. There were no bullet holes in the vehicle, but of course they could have been forced off the road.”

“Or they could have been drunk and misjudged the edge,” Charlie muttered. “That gets me nowhere.”

“I don't have names, only IP addresses. They were re-routed through seventeen different countries and bounced all over the world. The likelihood of narrowing it down to a specific person or group is slim, but I've got analysts working on it.”

“How the hell did two assistant directors get the best of you?” Charlie demanded. “You helped me build the intelligence network we have today! No one knows this world better than you.”

“How the hell is someone picking out your assets and eliminating them?” Harry retorted.

Charlie grunted and they walked along silently for a few moments, then Harry spoke.

“Do you think they were the only leaks in DHS?” Charlie answered with a question of his own.

“I think so,” Harry said slowly. “I've been monitoring all communications since they disappeared and nothing else has come up on the radar. No one is picking up where they left off.”

“What are the odds of us catching this bastard before he gets to Viper?” he asked quietly.

“I don't know, but I'll tell you this much. If they haven't gotten to her yet, I like our odds more with each passing day.”

“Good point,” he agreed. Then he sobered. “You want to find them before she does. I know you want answers, and she won't stop to ask questions.”