Manipulation. D.K. Wilde
bottles, paper and used fast food cardboard packaging swirled behind the vehicle. They rounded the corner and slowed as the driver’s head swivelled from side to side watching for onlookers. Convinced all clear he planted the accelerator and they charged toward the rusty corrugated wall of the third, larger shed. Twenty metres from the wall and appearing not to slow, Crystal grabbed Wade’s arm and screamed.
The driver, Wade and the two agents never batted an eyelid as the wall dropped into the ground and the Suburban raced inside. The rubber on the tyres squealed as the vehicle came to a stop. Wade looked across to Crystal, put his hand on her leg and asked, “You okay?”
“My God, what next!” she nervously replied trying to calm herself whilst also being aware she had never felt safer than when she was with this man.
The Warehouse was a large, rusty, corrugated shed covering nearly twenty thousand square metres. All the windows and doors had been enclosed and welded shut. No natural light was able to enter the facility. Inside the building a bomb proof and radiation resistant structure had been built. The internal walls and roof had been covered with a lead lined and soundproofed material. All communication was through specially designed fibre technology that had been built into the corrugated sheets. Completely self sufficient with its own water, electricity, food and recycled air; occupants could comfortably live for ten weeks. The five metre by five metre door that dropped into the ground was the only means of access. The building was constantly under satellite and drone surveillance. Guarded by highly trained field operatives posing as homeless drunks.
Inside resembled the futuristic flight deck of a Star Trek spaceship. Two hundred people sat facing computer screens, analysing data or communicating with various parties throughout the world. 3D screens hovered above desks covered in maps and large plasma screens showed live images from the world’s hotspots. Men and women were in discussion whilst cutting, pasting and dragging information and photos. Forest had organised unidentifiable satellites to be available at all times.
Helping Crystal from the vehicle, Wade made his way toward Forest and Kia, the Israeli Mossad agent whom he had developed a close working relationship with over the years. He noticed Joe Plant, the CIA Station chief previously of the Turkish office, standing off to the left. Stopping in front of the General he put out his hand as he said, “Thanks for your help.”
Turning to Kia he put his arm around her shoulders and said, “Thank you. We’ll always be able to work together. Don’t forget that.”
As Wade headed toward Joe, Crystal noticed Kia trying to hide the tears that were forming. “Wade told me what happened and what you said. I don’t want you to worry or apologise as I believe I am still learning to understand how this world you all live in, operates,” said Crystal.
With her head bowed Kia responded, “Thank you Crystal. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. Hopefully I can make it up.”
Kia thought of how she had brutalised Crystal in Darwin, months earlier. How she had stepped outside the boundaries. She also knew that her work, as a Mossad agent, meant she was expected to perform tasks that others would not. But her biggest regret was losing respect from Wade. He was the closest she had to family and it ate at her to think she had jeopardised a relationship that had taken years to develop, all over a jealousy toward Crystal’s affections to Wade.
Forest called Wade, Joe, Kia, Crystal and three aides into a secure meeting room. Looking at the group the General spoke first, “We don’t appear to have a lot to go on regarding these shootings but Jade has found something of interest.”
A tall, extremely thin, pale skinned young woman who seemed very nervous at addressing the group stood and looking down at her notes, slowly and softly started to speak. With her long, snow white hair hanging in front of her face she tried to relay the information but nobody in the room could understand or hear her. Wade realised her predicament and rose, walked around the table and stood next to her as he said, “I understand how hard this might be for you, so sit down and take a deep breath. I’ll sit with you. You talk to me as if there’s no one else in the room … okay?”
Looking straight into Wade’s eyes she saw genuine caring and quietly said, “Thank you.”
Commencing again, looking at Wade, “We’ve examined the bullet casings found at both the shooting sites. They’re consistent with casings we found twelve months ago when two of our agents were shot, outside a Berlin diamond cutting house. When we finally gained access to the building it had been wiped clean. The only item worth noting was an indentation in a desk that showed an inverted Opus Dei symbol. We’ve been unable to follow this path any further until now. We don’t understand what the symbol implies but we do know somebody outside of the normal production factories has produced these bullets and therefore we feel the casings will be the link we’re looking for. We also believe the style of production would more likely indicate Italian manufacturing but we cannot confirm this.”
“Why a link between the symbol and the casings?” asked Wade.
“We were able to get some microscopic metal fragmentations from the desk which we know came from the symbol and these fragments match the metals used in the bullets. We know the symbol would not be made from this metal as it would be to soft but there is a possibility they came in contact, ie maybe were being carried together. We feel it is too coincidental to ignore.”
“Thank you Jade. You did very well. We appreciate all your help,” Wade replied as he helped her stand and escorted her, and her fellow workers, to the door.
Crystal watched and smiled, as he closed the door and returned to his seat.
“I don’t feel we’re any closer to who they are and what they want but I think it’s time I paid Ryan Cotterill a visit,” said Wade.
Ryan Cotterill, the son in law of President Markham, who had received a ninety five million dollar deposit into an unknown Swiss bank account and whose second uncle is Professor Borgias Bart. Professor Bart, a lead scientist at the LHC (Large Hadron Collider) facility in Meyrin, west of Geneva, Switzerland whose information was instrumental in the group destroying the Grey Wolves production facility.
The Grey Wolves, a Turkish style mafia, that a splinter group had formed from by the ex director of MIT (Turkish National Intelligence Organisation). The group was predominately operating as a mercenary group. They had developed a lucrative illegal arms and diamond business and were also intent on producing nuclear armalites. Destruction of this group, its leader and two US associates had been Wade’s latest mission. The two high profile associates, US Vice President Daniel Cooper and Chief of CIA International Affairs Marcus Smithwright. Both men had become corrupted with their desire for power and money, oblivious to the consequences. As the US Vice President an enquiry had commenced, until the powers at the highest level of US administration, had learnt of Cooper’s intentions and then all proceedings were ceased and any findings were lost in archives. As far as the world was concerned Cooper died in an accident.
“Before you leave I need to organise a meeting with you and the President. When are you available?” asked Forest looking directly at Wade.
“General, I do appreciate what the President and you are asking but not right now,” replied Wade as he grabbed a 9mm Heckler & Koch from the side table, checked the magazine was full and headed for the door. With Crystal following he turned to Joe, “You coming?”
Baltimore
The drive to Ryan Cotterill’s apartment, downtown Baltimore, had been uneventful with the discussion focused on bullet casings and the possible location of production facilities. Joe used his CIA badge to gain access past the security guard and into the luxury facility. Taking the elevator to the twelfth floor they approached the apartment door and Wade immediately noticed the fine scratching’s beside the handle. Checking for surveillance cameras he motioned to Joe to move to the side of the door whilst he pushed Crystal back against the wall. Bringing his index finger to his mouth, indicating no noise, he ensured a round was chambered in his pistol and reached for the door handle.
The door was unlocked. Wade pushed it fully open and leading with his pistol, entered