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Chapter Nineteen

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Miami, Florida

The sun was just breaking over the water when the metal driver sliced through the air and cracked into a white ball, sending it arching through the air. Richard Young lowered the club and watched as the ball soared over the lawns towards the green in the distance.

“Nice,” his caddy murmured, taking the club from him.

Young nodded in acknowledgment and turned to move away from the tee, making room for his golfing partner.

“Great swing, Dick,” the other man said, bending down to set his ball on the tee. “Playing with you is always a challenge. It keeps me on my game.”

“Your game is rarely off, Senator,” Young replied humorously. “The day you can’t keep up with me is the day one of us is dead.”

Senator Martin Davies whacked his ball and watched as it followed the curve that Young’s had taken seconds earlier.

“God willing that day is a long way off for both of us,” he said, turning to hand his club to his caddy. “How’s your shoulder? Are you still having issues with it?”

“It’s fine. Hardly gives me any trouble now.” Young turned to start walking towards the green in the distance. “The physical therapy worked wonders.”

“Ah, remember the days when we didn’t need to go to PT?” Davies asked with a laugh. “We’re getting old, Dick. All I have to do is look at something wrong and I pull a muscle.”

“You have to keep active. That’s the key.”

“Why do you think I let you get me out here at this ungodly hour of the morning?”

Richard laughed and took a deep breath of crisp, early morning air.

“This is the best time of the day. Everything is fresh and new, and the day hasn’t presented its problems yet. I get most of my work done before the rest of the city has had their breakfast.”

Senator Davies grunted. “Morning people. I’ll never understand you. I’m up because I have to be, not because I choose to be. If I had my choice, I’d still be in bed with two blondes.”

Richard grinned and continued striding along the fairway. After a moment of companionable silence, Davies glanced at him.

“Do you still have business concerns in Jerusalem?” he asked suddenly.

Richard looked at him in surprise. “Yes, and in Tel Aviv. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve heard some rumors that Israel will become a target in the coming weeks. It might be worthwhile to take a look at your people there and get them out if possible.”

Young waved his hand impatiently. “There is absolutely nothing new in Israel being a target,” he said dismissively. “Yet they continue to soldier on. It’s inspiring, really.”

“Inspiring? Or idiotic?”

“Martin, if you’re going to start in with politics, you can fall back and walk with the caddies,” Richard told him cheerfully. “Israel has been very lucrative for me, and I hold them no ill will.”

“I know you don’t, but even you must realize the dangers of keeping offices in such an unsettled climate. If Jerusalem were attacked, for example, how would that affect your holdings there?”

“We’d take a hit, but nothing we can’t recover from, and certainly nothing worth swallowing the loss of pulling my people out without warning.” Richard glanced at him. “Why the sudden interest? What have you heard?”

“Nothing concrete, but there are rumors that several powerful organizations are growing weary of the cease-fire.”

“Again, there’s nothing new in that.” He shook his head. “I’m not about to risk losing money on a rumor.”

“Fair enough. I just thought I’d give you a heads up.” Davies walked in silence for a moment. “How did the thing in Cairo work out?”

“Exactly as expected. Everything’s in place and we’ll be moving forward with construction on time, as planned.”

“That’s fantastic. You know I was worried about the local government balking. It never ceases to amaze me how you manage to push things through that no other firm can.”

Richard flashed a grin. “That’s why I’m at the top of the food chain. I know how to get things done.”

“How long have we known each other, Dick?” Davies asked after a moment. “Twenty-five years?”

“Closer to thirty-five.”

“Good Lord, it’s been that long?” Davies looked appalled. “Impossible!”

“Sad, but true. As you said, we’re getting old.”

“In all that time, you’ve never once asked me for a favor. Why is that?”

“There was no point in college. You didn’t have two pennies to rub together. By the time you could do anything for me, I didn’t need any help. I still don’t.” Richard looked at him. “What’s with all the introspection?”

Davies sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose I’m getting tired of all the constant wheeling and dealing. It’s different for you. You do it for the money and for your company. I do it for ungrateful constituents who threaten to kick me out every election cycle.”

“Bullshit, Martin. You do it for the money, just the same as me.”

Davies laughed reluctantly. “You’re right,” he admitted unapologetically. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting tired of dealing in favors and tit for tat. You’ve never asked me for anything, not once, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“I wouldn’t take it personally,” Richard advised dryly. “I would rather liquidate all of my holdings than ask for any help from the Hill. You’re all leaches. Once you get your talons in, you don’t stop until the subject is bled dry. No offense, of course.”

“None taken.” Davies looked at him curiously. “But it does make me wonder just how you built your empire. No one can build something that large without any help.”

“I would argue that I’m living proof that they can.”

“That kind of success doesn’t exist. It never did. It was always just a pipe dream.” Davies shook his head. “No. There’s a secret to your success. I just haven’t found it yet.”

Richard looked at him and smiled enigmatically. “Good luck looking, Martin. You may not believe in the American dream, but it’s alive and well, regardless of how much you might wish otherwise.”

“Do you blame me?” he demanded. “I can’t control people like you. No one can. If we take away everything you have, you just build it up again. Then you inspire others to the same thing. You’re like a cancer, eating away at the perfectly good, pliable fabric of socialist agenda.”

“Good! Then I know I’m doing something right.”

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Kai pulled the motorcycle off the road and bounced over rough, sun-baked dirt, steering the bike between two large bushes. The contracting company was on the other side of the road, hidden from view by a row of hedges that lined the small field across the street. Shutting off the engine, she sat for a moment, listening to the sound of the wind whispering through the dense foliage. She was completely hidden from both the road and the field behind her, nestled as she was in the one spot where the motorcycle was completely obscured on all sides by hedges or bushes. It was the perfect place to leave it until the operation was over.

She climbed off the back and reached up to remove her helmet. It was Friday, and everywhere was quiet as the Egyptians observed their holy day of rest and the beginning of their weekend. It certainly made their job easier, she reflected as she turned to make her way out of the little copse. The less people around to see them, the better all around.

She crossed the street and moved into the paved parking lot of the contracting company. The lot was completely empty, save for the black van parked adjacent to where the paving ended and the sandy dirt began. The others were already in the tunnel. Rina had told her they were going in twenty minutes earlier when she’d announced that they’d arrived.

As she walked towards the van, her eyes and ears listening for anything out of the usual, Kai felt a wave of uneasiness go over her. Frowning, she looked at the empty building to her left and then back to the hedges on the other side of the road where she’d just come from. Everything was still and silent, baking in the hot afternoon sun, and she shook her head. There was nothing out of place, and no one around that would think twice about the presence of a black utility van sitting in a deserted parking lot on the edge of the city.

“I’m here,” she said softly into her comm. “Everything looks good up here.”

“Wish I could say the same down here,” Rina muttered. “Asher’s picked up an electronic signal coming from halfway through the tunnel. He’s trying to trace it now.”

“Is it a security system?”

“That’s what we think. It would explain why there’s no kind of security in place at the opening.”

“I’ll be down to join you as soon as I grab my gear from the van.”

“Take your time. We’re not going anywhere yet.”

Kai couldn’t stop the wry smile that twisted her lips at the sound of frustrated resignation in Rina’s voice. She typed a code into the keypad on the back door of the van. The door clicked and she opened it, disappearing inside. They had prepped the inside to handle the transportation of the prisoner before they left the warehouse this morning. Kodak had installed magnetic ankle restraints into the floor, and additional straps were clamped into the side of the van. Once Masha’al was secured, he wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, the only thing he would be able to move freely was his head. But they had to get him there first, and it sounded as if they’d just encountered their first hurdle.

Kai picked up her duffel bag and opened it, setting it on the bench that Masha’al would call home later. She pulled out two leg holsters and a pair of Jericho .45 ACP pistols. Her 9mm was holstered securely in the small of her back, but the pair of .45s would serve as the main firepower as she made her way through the house to Masha’al. Strapping the leg holsters to her thighs, Kai slid the guns into them quickly before turning back to her bag. A few minutes later, she had everything she needed.

“How’re we looking?” she asked, dropping the duffel back with the others.

“I’ve isolated the signal,” Asher replied. “It’s definitely a security system. I’m sending a camera down there now to take a look.”

“Why didn’t the drone we ran through yesterday set it off?”

“I’m guessing they have sensors at a height that would only go off if a person went past,” he said. “They can’t use cameras down here without wifi, so that really only leaves a closed-circuit sensor. Very rudimentary, but effective if you only care about knowing if a person is coming though here.”

“And the signal goes back to the same system as the cameras up top?” Kodak asked, his voice intermittent with interference.

“Yes.”

“Then how will you guys get past them before we interrupt the power?”

“That depends entirely on what kind of sensors they are,” Asher said. “I’m going to take a look now.”

“Kodak, where are you and Raj?” Kai asked.

“We’re in position.”

“I’m just waiting on you now,” Raj said. “As soon as you’re in position, I’m ready to ram this pole and get this show started.”

“Kodak, how long will it take you to get to the grid hub once Raj hits the pole?” she asked, opening the door to the van and jumping down.

“About ten minutes.”

After making sure the van was locked up tight, she turned to go towards the opening to the tunnel.

“All right. Stand by.”

She strode across the barren, unpaved plot of land until she reached the manhole cover concealing the entrance. Rina and Asher had left it only partially covering the opening, and after a swift glance around, Kai pushed it the rest of the way off the opening and started down the ladder. Halfway down, she reached up and pulled the cover over the opening. It dropped into place, sealing out the bright sunlight, and she continued down the ladder. When her boots hit the stone tile, she pulled a Maglite from her jacket pocket and clicked it on, shining it around the small space. Wrinkling her nose at the damp and musty smell, she was just stepping through the tunnel opening when her ear piece came alive again.

“They’re definitely sensors, and they’re placed about three feet up the tunnel sides,” Asher announced. “The good news is there are only two sets, one about halfway through the tunnel, and another just before we reach the first entrance to the house.”

“And the bad news?”

“There’s no way to disable them without setting them off.”

“Then how will you get down the tunnel?” Kodak asked after a moment of silence.

“Raj is going to hit that pole, and you’ll start that power surge early,” Kai said, striding down the tunnel. “Once the power surge hits, we can move past the first set of sensors while they’re down.”

“And the second set?”

“We’ll pass them at the same time Raj and Kodak enter the compound. If the cameras are acting up, there won’t be any thought about the sensors down here doing the same thing.”

“What if someone comes to check on them?” Asher asked.

“Then we’ll deal with it.”

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Senator Davies nodded to an aid as he strode down the corridor to his office. Glancing at his watch, his lips tightened. He would just make his conference call, but he was cutting it very close. Blast Richard Young and his morning golf. It had thrown his whole day off. After leaving the club, he’d been caught in traffic on the way to the airport, and by the time his private jet landed in Dulles, he wished he’d never agreed to a six am tee-off.

At the thought of his old friend, Davies’ frown deepened. He had tried to warn him as diplomatically as he could to withdraw his business interests from Israel with all speed, but Young was still just as bull-headed as he always had been. Short of telling him the truth, there was nothing more he could do, and that made Davies irritable. When Young lost billions, the whole country would suffer in one way or another. Not that that bothered Davies particularly, but when Wall Street got nervous, that did affect him. Why couldn’t Richard just listen for once and move his company out of harm’s way?

He opened the door and went into the busy outer office where his aides were just settling down at their desks with their coffee and bagels. He nodded to them in greeting on his way to the door that lead into his own private sanctum.

“Senator, don’t forget your lunch appointment,” an older woman said as he passed her desk.

Davies checked his step and paused, turning to look at the woman who managed his calendar with a skill that was unrivaled.

“What time is it again?”

“One o’clock.”

He looked at his watch again and nodded, turning to continue on his way. “Thank you, Sally.”

Once his call was finished, he would just have time to make it to lunch with the majority leader. Perhaps they would finally be able to hammer out an agreement. Davies’ lips twisted. Ha! Like that would ever happen.

He strode into his office and closed the door behind him with a firm click. Going over to his desk, he sank down in the chair, pressing a button on his desk that closed the blinds on the windows, blocking out the sight of the busy outer office. Once they were closed, he exhaled and spun around to stare out of the large windows behind his desk. The view of the Potomac was outstanding, but he barely even noticed it anymore. It was just part of the landscape that he stared at every day.

Rubbing his forehead, Davies exhaled again and leaned his head back. He had been speaking the God-honest truth earlier when he told Dick that he was getting tired of the circus. He never thought this day would come, but here it was. Soon he would have options, and when he did, he would say goodbye to this view and go somewhere warm and sunny without looking back.

After another long sigh, he spun around in his chair and reached for the phone, dialing the number for the conference call. When it connected, he punched in his access code and waited. An AI voice prompted him for his name, then told him that he was now in the meeting.

“Hi Martin,” a voice greeted him. “We’re just waiting on Mason. How are things in Washington?”

“Busy,” Davies said, pressing the speaker and sitting back in his chair. “How’s Paris?”

“Raining.”

He made a sympathetic noise and reached for his mouse, turning his attention to his computer. Mason was the one running the call, and until he got on and got it going, Davies really had nothing more to say. He clicked on his email and began scrolling through the new messages. There were seven of them on the call and he knew the others were doing the same thing he was: working while they waited.

“Is everybody here?” a new voice asked a few moments later. A chorus of murmured affirmatives sounded as people unmuted their phones. “Good. Then let’s begin. I’ll keep it short. I know we all have other matters to attend to today. There was some concern last time over the issue in Berlin. I’m happy to tell you that the entire situation has been resolved and the group there is no longer an issue.”

“And Munich?” Someone asked.

“Also not an issue anymore. We have Germany firmly under control.”

“That’s a relief,” someone else said.

“Where do we stand with Operation Retribution?” The woman in Paris asked.

Davies snapped his attention back from his emails.

“Martin? Care to give an update?” Mason asked.

“Everything is moving forward,” he said. “Masha’al Al-Amin is on board, and planning is underway.”

“What about living quarters? He can’t stay where he is,” someone else pointed out. “We’ll need to move him somewhere more discreet.”

“It’s already arranged,” Mason said. “As of tomorrow, Masha’al will be off the grid completely and able to plan and execute the operation without any distractions.”

“And when will Retribution take place?”

“We have a tentative timeline of eight weeks,” Davies said.

A murmur of approval went through the group on the phone.

“I thought you would all appreciate the prompt response,” Mason said with a chuckle. “We cannot continue to allow our people to be attacked and killed with abandon. It’s time to take our place on the international scene, and this is the perfect way to do so.”

“And the Allies?”

“Won’t do anything but bluster and condemn,” Davies assured them.

“What about Moscow? Will they be a problem?”

“Highly unlikely,” Mason said. “They lost a powerful warlord in Bucharest. They’re as angry as we are. They won’t interfere.”

“Then the only question left is whether or not it will be traceable to any of us.”

Davies smiled. “No,” he said. “Masha’al will take the blame, and the wrath of the allied countries. There is no way it can come back to us.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. There’s absolutely nothing to connect us to Masha’al. We’re completely clean.”