Frankfurt am Main International Airport, Frankfurt, Germany
Kane had to admit he was impressed. The logistics of the operation were substantial, and expertly executed. Anyone who dismissed ISIL as only a regional threat were sadly mistaken. Everyone in his cell had been provided with passports, boarding passes to various planes, background information on their new identities, worn luggage, worn clothing and scuffed up toiletries. It was clear that this was well planned, well organized and under development for some time.
He just wondered how many times the scene in his hotel room last night had been repeated.
In his group, he was the only one travelling as himself, or so they thought. He was using his CIA issued passport and he had just used it to check in, which should mean someone at Langley would be taking notice about now. Hopefully that would mean some sort of contact in New York when he landed.
The others were travelling on new passports from various European countries not requiring a visa to travel to the US. Unless somehow flagged, he fully expected them to get through, and unless he could get a message to his handlers quickly, there’d be no finding them once they left JFK.
Something had to be done, but again, he was never alone, Nazari only half a dozen spots behind him in line.
“Sir, will you come with us, please?”
Kane looked up at a guard holding his passport. “Huh?” He glanced past the guard to see two imposing officers behind him, submachine guns at the ready. “Why?”
“You’ve been randomly selected for a full search.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m American. Besides, I’ve got a flight to catch, I don’t have time for this.”
“You won’t miss your flight if you cooperate. Please come with me.”
“But—”
“Sir, you will be placed under arrest if you do not come now.”
Kane sighed, dropping his head slightly, his shoulders slumping. He stole a quick glance toward Nazari who was trying not to react, but Kane had spent enough time with the man to recognize the look of concern in his eyes.
“Fine!” he said, stepping away from the tray containing his personal items—all provided last night—raising his hands to his shoulders. “But I still say this is ridiculous. How can I possibly fit any profile?”
“This way.”
Kane followed the man, the two armed guards walking slightly behind him, many of those in the immediate vicinity staring at him. The lead guard ordered a group out of the way of the door they were heading toward. Kane looked at them, a Muslim woman with her two children, a shocked look on her face as she stared at him. She seemed familiar and he had to think for a moment before he recognized her.
The woman from the bus and the Hungarian border!
He gave no indication he recognized her, not wanting to cause her any trouble, instead simply keeping the pissed off expression on his face, knowing that the moment he cleared this door, he could get word to Langley.
If anyone would listen to him.
The door closed behind him and he glanced back to make sure Nazari hadn’t somehow managed to follow him.
Clear.
“I need access to a phone immediately. I’m a—”
“In here.” The man held out a hand, directing him into a room to the right.
“Listen, my name is—”
“Now.”
A guard shoved him from behind and he stumbled into the room, the door closing behind him.
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Dylan smiled as Dawson and Niner rose from behind the room’s lone table. He stepped forward and gave Dawson a hug, then Niner. “You have no idea how good it is to see you guys.”
“Likewise,” said Dawson as they all took seats. “Langley thought you might be dead.”
“We knew you weren’t.”
Kane looked at Niner. “I appreciate that.”
Niner bowed slightly then waved his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not because we thought you were too good to get yourself killed, just that we weren’t that lucky.”
Kane chuckled. “I love you too, Niner.”
Niner kissed the air. “Back at you, big boy.”
Kane slumped in his chair, relaxing for the first time in weeks. “You have no idea how nice it is to hear an American voice that isn’t some nutbar convert hell bent on destroying the country that gave him the freedom to worship the religion of his choice.”
Dawson jerked a thumb at Niner. “He’s a nutbar but he’s harmless.”
Kane chuckled at Niner’s pout. “How did you find me?”
“You were spotted on some footage and tracked to Germany, then someone bought a plane ticket in your cover’s name yesterday so we were able to arrange this little meeting.” Dawson leaned forward, becoming all business. “What can you tell us?”
“I successfully infiltrated the cell I was tasked with. Eight of us were sent here and at least six arrived successfully and are leaving for the US today.”
“How many do you think we’re dealing with?” asked Dawson as he scribbled notes.
“According to what I’ve been able to gather, hundreds if not thousands have been sent, and if all but two of my cell made it to the rendezvous, then…” Kane shrugged. “I hate to guess, but it’s going to be a Charlie-Foxtrot, that’s for sure.” He jabbed the table in the direction of Dawson’s notepad. “Here’s the problem. These guys are experts at misinformation. I have no way of knowing if it was just our cell that was sent, or if it was actually hundreds or thousands. All I can say is this. Other than a pre-arranged boat waiting for us in Turkey, we received no help until we got to Germany.” He looked from Niner to Dawson, leaning back in his chair. “It was just too damned easy.”
Niner frowned. “Which means it could have been just as easy for any number of others.”
“Exactly.”
Dawson tapped the pad with his pen. “Do you want out?”
Kane shook his head. “No way. We’re supposed to be picked up when we land then taken somewhere. I’m hoping from there I can get a handle on what’s going on, perhaps be able to track down the other cells.” He leaned forward. “Look, this goes way beyond just a terrorist attack. The chatter from the others is that we’re to deliver a major blow using some sort of weapon that I can only assume is the missing Cesium we’ve been looking for. I’m staying in until we recover that.”
“Good, I would have called you a pussy if you wanted out,” said Niner, straight-faced.
“They’re always looking for new recruits if you want to join me.”
“Naw, I’m too pretty to be a terrorist.”
“You do have girlish good looks.”
Niner’s jaw dropped and his hand pressed against his chest. “Just because I’m dainty doesn’t mean I’m feminine.”
Dawson pushed a small case toward Kane. “Langley wanted me to give you this.”
Kane immediately recognized the case and flipped it open.
Trackers!
“Swallow the red one,” said Dawson, pushing a glass of water toward him. “Langley says they’ll be able to track you for about forty-eight hours.” He pointed toward the case. “The others will stick to pretty much everything. Use them as you see fit.”
Kane nodded, swallowing the red pill, wondering if it would truly reveal the truth. He put the glass down then took each of the half-dozen trackers, carefully sticking them inside his shirt cuff.
Dawson glanced at his watch. “Time’s up. Last chance to get out.”
Kane rose, shaking his head. “Too many lives are at stake. I’m in this until the end.”