Edge of Tomorrow (18 page)

“Eddie, bring the ladies a refill, and I’d
like a glass of White Zin. Bring us some snacks, too, please,” said
Hatch.

“Yes, sir. Right away,” answered Eddie as he
hurried off.

Hatch looked at the two women and was pleased
with what he saw. He was used to seeing Sara nearly nude, and he
always enjoyed looking at her. Syd was another thing. She took his
breath away.

I have to get to know her better. She really
fascinates me. Maybe we are kindred souls of some sort. We both did
dirty jobs under the umbrella of a government’s orders. We’ve both
been betrayed by people in our own agencies. We’ve both killed to
avenge the death of our loved ones. I’m much older than she is
though. I wonder if that matters to her. I guess time will tell. I
have to get her alone somehow.

“You ladies look very fetching this
afternoon,” observed Hatch. “You can sue me for sexual harassment
for saying that, Sara. You can’t sue, Syd, so you will have to
choose some other action.”

Sara laughed and Syd blushed, but laughed
along with Sara. Hatch just smiled.

“I’ll just say that you are looking pretty
good yourself,” countered Syd. “You can’t sue me either.”

They all had a good laugh at that.

“I have some good news, and some bad
news,” Hatch said, changing the subject. “First, the good news.
Bruno says there is no one watching your place, Syd—at least, not
at the moment. Bruno’s team went in and swept the place and found
no surveillance equipment of any kind. That means the two men
at
The Blue Grotto
were
watching your house and followed you.

“The bad news—and it isn’t really all that
bad—is in San Francisco. Our fake Radon inspectors checked out your
sister’s house. There is a bug in her phone, so that is how they
found you so quickly, Syd. We left the bug there. We don’t want
them to know that we found it. We can use it to feed them
misinformation—maybe set a trap for them. Assuming there are more
of them, as we suspect.”

“I still can’t believe how stupid I was
calling my sister!” moaned Syd. “She doesn’t suspect anything, does
she?”

“No. We didn’t tell her about the bug we
found, or anything else. She’s not suspicious yet. But I don’t like
the fact that someone is listening in on her private conversations,
so I propose we try and draw those bastards into the open as
quickly as we can, so we can get rid of that bug.”

“She probably talks to clients on that
phone!” added Syd. “How do you propose we do this?”

“Whatever we do, we can’t let Syd’s sister
get suspicious,” interjected Sara.

“Yes, that is important,” agreed Hatch. “We
do have to use Syd as bait, whatever we do. Here comes Eddie. We’ll
form a plan after he’s gone.”

Eddie had a large tray balanced on his right
hand, which he put down on the round table where the three were
seated. He placed their drinks in front of them, and gave each a
small plate and napkin. He placed a large platter of finger food in
the center of the table.

“Thanks, Eddie,” said Hatch as Eddie
departed.

Hatch picked up where he had stopped when
Eddie had appeared.

“We have surveillance teams in place at Syd’s
house and at her sister Karen’s house. We don’t know where the bad
guys are. I’m guessing there are two in San Francisco, and two came
here. However, the two live ones may be on their way here because
they haven’t heard from their buddies. So where do we set the trap?
Here, or San Francisco? That is the question.”

“Can’t we just tell the FBI what we know and
let them handle it?” asked Syd.

“From where I sit, that would make things
worse for you, Dr. Z.,” chimed in Sara. “It would end up in the
press eventually, no matter how they try to handle it; then the
entire Arab world would know where you are, not to mention what
your sister would find out. As far as we know, these guys are not
wanted for anything in this country, so the FBI wouldn’t do
anything proactive.”

“Plus,” added Hatch, “the police would
take a new look at the killings at
The
Blue Grotto
. We would be in for a lot of
questioning—waste a lot of time, and open a can of worms. The only
way we can contain this is to handle it ourselves. We are capable
of handling this, Syd. Trust me.”

“If you manage to find them, what do you do
with them? You can’t turn them over to the FBI. You can’t just kill
them!” fretted Syd. “This is America, not the Middle East.”

“I have something in mind. What if these guys
were apprehended in Israel, Syd? What would happen there?” asked
Hatch.

“That’s an easy one. They would be tried for
crimes against Israel—several bombings, killing of soldiers. That
is, if they just didn’t disappear,” laughed Syd. “The MOSSAD works
in mysterious ways.”

“That’s what I thought. I’ve known the CIA to
do similar things a decade ago, but it’s harder now. So, when we
catch them, we deliver them to Israel,” concluded Hatch.

“You don’t think small, do you, Hatch? How do
you accomplish that without the support of the U. S. Government?”
wondered Syd.

“Remember, Dr. Z., who Hatch really is,”
explained Sara. “He’s not your ordinary man on the street.”

They all paused for a moment and munched on
the hors d’oeuvres. Hatch seemed deep in thought as he chewed his
cracker smeared with caviar. Syd preferred the cream cheese on a
wheat cracker.

“Let’s catch them first,” Hatch finally said,
breaking the silence. “In order to keep your sister isolated from
this entire mess, I think it best to lure them here. Your sister is
under 24-hour surveillance, so she will be safe no matter how this
goes down.”

“God, I hope so! I hate myself for getting
her involved in my problems,” moaned Syd.

“She’ll be quite fine. Now, here’s what I
want you to do, Syd. I want you to call your sister and have a
little chat. Tell her you are enjoying your vacation; tell her
where you are, et cetera, et cetera. Hopefully, the bad guys will
be listening and know that you are still alive. They should make a
beeline to your place, just like the other two did. You won’t be
there, of course; you’ll be here, and we will be watching your
house. We’ll watch the Miami Airport as well. If we don’t screw up,
we should take them quietly, and alive.”

Syd’s mind was racing. Hatch’s latest remark
sounded more like what the MOSSAD, or the FBI, or the CIA, or the
police would say than what a private citizen would say. Her life
and Karen’s life were on the line here! What Hatch was proposing
bordered on the illegal; even if you considered capturing the
terrorists as a citizen’s arrest, it could not be proven that the
bastards had done anything illegal in this country. It amounted to
kidnapping. Syd decided it was time to probe deeper into what these
people were all about.

“Hatch, what you just said, and actions you
have taken already, need to be explained to me. Once, I was a naive
college professor; I no longer am. Ordinary American citizens don’t
have multiple surveillance teams at their disposal, or the ability
to kidnap people and whisk them out of the country. I think it’s
time for you tell me more. You can trust me, I promise,” Syd
pleaded, her dark eyes flashing.

Hatch looked from Syd to Sara and raised his
eyebrows slightly. Sara nodded imperceptibly, indicating that she
thought Syd could, and should, be trusted. Hatch finally admitted
to himself that he needed Syd to carry out his ultimate plan. He
had to relate secrets to her that no one outside of Lincoln
Research and Development knew. Things that not even employees of
his other vast holdings knew. Was his strange attraction to her
clouding his judgment? How much should he let her know about his
secret world? She had lived in the clandestine depths of spydom
where there was only one outcome possible for betrayal. He had to
trust her.

“Syd, I apologize. I thought I could
handle this situation without getting you more deeply involved than
you already are, but I’ve just realized how self-serving that is.
This is really about
you
,
not
me
and my personal
agenda,” said Hatch seriously.

“And what is your personal agenda, Hatch?”
asked Syd, looking him straight in the eye.

“Like I told you, Syd, Hatch is a devout
antiterrorist,” said Sara before Hatch could answer.

“Sara is right. Getting these terrorists off
the street is very important to me, and not just because they are a
threat to you and Karen. What they stand for is an even larger
threat. I want to hit them hard—send a message to their buddies in
the Middle East. Does that sound familiar to you?” Hatch
explained.

“Yes. I’ve heard that speech before, many
times from my own mouth,” admitted Syd.

“Probably from Uri Stein, too,” said Hatch,
watching for Syd’s reaction.

That last statement stunned Syd. How did
Hatch know that name, her previous boss in Israel?

“You know who Uri is?” she gasped.

“I not only know who he is, I know him
personally,” answered Hatch. “You don’t even know this, Sara, but I
talked to him earlier today while you two were visiting Mrs. C.
I’ve transmitted the digital pictures of the two guys we killed,
Syd, and he will try and help us identify them and their buddies.
He will call us later today when he gets to his office. It’s the
middle of the night over there right now.”

“Then Uri knows that the Wrath of Allah
assholes have found me?” asked Syd.

“Yes, and he feels responsible for the fix
you are in. He sends his apologies. By the way, Triple Eye is a
major force in the world in the intelligence community, so it is
not unusual that I know the heads of most intelligence
organizations. This, however, has nothing to do with Triple Eye.
They are not directly involved. Tell her what your job really is,
Sara,” concluded Hatch.

“I’m very interested in what you have to say,
Sara, but I have one question for Hatch first. You knew about me
before my little confession today, didn’t you?” interrupted
Syd.

“Yes. I wasn’t going to say anything if you
chose not to mention that part of your past,” answered Hatch. “My
call to Uri wasn’t about you—just the terrorists.”

“Thanks for that. Sorry, Sara. Go ahead.”

“It is important that you never reveal what I
am going to tell you, Z.,” started Sara.

“I’ve heard that a few times,” smiled Syd.
“My lips are sealed. I already have many secrets buried deep within
me.”

“I told you that Hatch made me an offer I
couldn’t refuse. That job was to create the ultimate Hostage Rescue
Team. I developed a plan and Hatch provided the tools and equipment
I needed. Since that first team, the technology provided by Lincoln
R and D has enabled me to upgrade the team—teams, actually—to the
best trained and equipped in the world. We have training facilities
here on the property—a place I didn’t show you today—but our main
training facility is in Arizona where we have hundreds of acres. We
call these teams Lincoln’s Liberators, although Hatch doesn’t
really approve of the name,” Sara laughed.

Sara stopped and took a sip of her drink. Syd
was trying to absorb what she was hearing.

“The Toy Master—Dr. Robert ‘Doc’ Mills, head
of LRD—has given us equipment that no other HRT has ever had. We
have the best communications system, best surveillance equipment,
best weapons, unbelievable transportation options, and hopefully,
the best training. Hatch has spared no expense in these areas. Some
inventions are patented and sold for profit after they are replaced
with something better. For example, some of the computer stuff sold
by Lincoln Computers. Others are kept secret so that other people
don’t get a peek at where we are technologically,” Sara continued
with her story.

Syd could restrain herself no more. She had
to ask, “What do you do with secret Hostage Rescue Teams?”

Hatch spoke up.

“I originally started this as an experiment,
to see how good of a team I could assemble. Sara had piqued my
interest years ago. As the idea developed, the teams were trained
to do more than just the rescue function. They are now potent
strike teams as well. All of this, of course, is because of Sara’s
vision and dedication to excellence. The way the international
political climate has developed since the mid-nineties has
confirmed my belief in the usefulness of secret, apolitical strike
teams such as these.”

“Apolitical? Explain that one to me, please,”
said Syd.

“There have been many examples recently, but
just for illustrative purposes, let’s take a problem which happened
about six months ago. Remember when an extremist Muslim group shot
down an SST airliner leaving New York? They used a hand-held SAM,
and then escaped to a stronghold in Syria. The Syrian government
wouldn’t give them up, even though they admitted they did it, and
said they would do it again. Their location was known, but politics
tied the hands of all of the great, extremely well-armed nations
who wanted them: France, Israel—there was an Israeli delegation on
board—the U. S., the United Nations. Everyone was afraid of going
into Syria because of the fear of screwing up ongoing so-called
peace talks in the Middle East. So the terrorists were thumbing
their noses at the world.”

“I heard about that in Israel. Metsada people
were really pissed that their hands were tied. But then, a rocket
attack from some mysterious ground troops destroyed the terrorist
base and killed most of them. No one ever knew who did it,” replied
Syd.

“Exactly,” smiled Hatch. “No international
repercussions. No more terrorists.”

“That was one of your teams, wasn’t
it?” gasped Syd. “You must be
really
good, Sara! How did you ever get a team
in and out? I had enough trouble getting
myself
in and out of Syria.”