Pushed to the Edge (SEAL Team 14) (14 page)

Victoria glanced up from her computer when her
cell phone began to ring.  Looking at the clock, she saw that it was close to
seven p.m.

She picked up the phone.  “Hello, this is Vicki.”

“Vicki, girl, what mess do you have me wading into
now?” a familiar Hispanic accent filled her ear.  It was her friend Monika
calling her back in record speed. 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Victoria was
not surprised with Monika’s tone; her friend was extremely blunt, which in this
day and age was actually refreshing.

“Well the whole Henning Cooper situation that you
have me looking into.  Did you have more than just some ‘hunch’ or did you get
dropped a tip from someone along the way?”

“No, I don’t really have any concrete leads at
this point—just a hunch.  What are you talking about?  Is there something up
with those companies I asked you to look into?”

“Well, one thing that I can tell you for sure is
that there is definitely something up with the
Henning Cooper Company
. 
They are currently under a federal investigation by the Drug Enforcement
Agency.”

Wow.  “Really?  The DEA?  How come this isn’t
plastered all over the evening news?”

“Give it a couple of weeks.  I’m sure that it’s
going to hit the news circuit pretty soon.”

“Why exactly are they being examined?”

“Now that I can’t say for certain.  I’m not even
supposed to be talking to you about this at all.  But it’s double flagged in
the Firebird system so there’s definitely FBI involvement as well.  Keep in
mind, Henning Cooper is a shipping company, so it’s possible that it is being
investigated due to the misgivings of one of its clients.  However, it is
entirely plausible that the Henning Cooper Company is being investigated
because of some wrongdoing that
it
may have perpetrated itself.”

“Well, regardless, I’m sure when this gets out,
Richard Henning definitely won’t be running for a return bid in 2016,” Victoria
pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed.  Now why
exactly did you want information on Henning?  He’s kept his nose pretty clean
in the news lately since his kidnapping.”

“It’s hard to explain.  It just didn’t make
sense.  His kidnappers, who happened to be an Islamic extremist terrorist
group, had him in their clutches for almost two days.  A former U.S.
Congressman and they don’t kill him?”

“The terrorist group purportedly sent in a ransom
demand to U.S. government officials.  Maybe they were holding him until they
received the money?”

“Come on Monika.  When is the last time that you
heard of the United States negotiating with terrorists or giving into their
ransom demands?”

“Okay, pretty much never.”

“Exactly.  If I were the leader of a terrorist
organization, I would expect that the U.S. government was going to deploy a significant
amount of muscle to take him back by force.  I wouldn’t expect to receive a
wire transfer of one red cent, let alone, ten million dollars.  So it begs the
question then, why would this terrorist group go to the trouble to kidnap him
to begin with?  If it wasn’t for the money, then it had to be for something
else.”

“I see where you are going with this.  But maybe
this time you are reading too much into things.  Maybe the Haqqai group
kidnapped Henning because he is a former U.S. Congressman and this group hates
anything and
anyone
having to do with United States.  It’s not a stretch
to think that an anti-American extremist organization would want to torture and
then kill a high ranking U.S. citizen in their country.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.  But then again,
Richard Henning’s company is under a federal narcotics investigation.”

“Yeah, but neither you nor I know all of the
details about that.  As far as we know the federal investigation into Henning’s
company has no connection to his recent kidnapping.  And I’ve gone as far as I
can go looking into your hunch.  I actually do like my job and being able to
pay my bills,” Monika replied sarcastically.

She thanked Monika for her help before hanging
up.  This new information had served to change her perspective on things.  She
didn’t much believe in coincidence and the fact that Henning Cooper was under a
federal drug investigation right after they had acquired a new contract with a
Russian drug manufacturer, just didn’t sit well with her. 

Victoria doubted that even Monika herself truly
believed that Henning’s kidnapping and the recent federal narcotics
investigation into his company were mere coincidences. 

But she was right, Victoria didn’t have any proof
at the moment, just an unverified hunch.  On the upside, Victoria still had her
upcoming meeting with the former Congressman to see if she could shake some
more information loose.

dib Malook sat in a dimly
lit, smoky coffee shop on the outskirts of Miranshah.  He sat at a small table
in the private back room of the small coffee lounge.  He had become an investor
in the small business a few years ago. 

Small businesses like this coffee shop were common
throughout the country.  Unlike other countries, there were hardly any large
supermarkets or store chains of any kind in Pakistan.  The only thing that came
close was the Hyper Star stores that were found in the larger cities such as
Lahore and Karachi. 

In small towns such as Miranshah, however, the
country’s tradition of small shopkeepers was still strong.  Small specialty
shops littered the Pakistan landscape.  Villagers were accustomed to going to
multiple shops in order to complete their shopping needs. 

Haberdasheries, millineries, and small shops that
sold either meat or fresh fruits and vegetables dotted the arid landscape. 
These shops were usually very small and many were located side by side.  While
they didn’t necessarily qualify as “one stop shopping,” the close proximity of
the shops allowed Pakistani villagers the opportunity to procure most of the
items on their grocery list in one day’s outing.

Adib Malook didn’t open up this coffee shop specifically
to provide a service for Pakistani villagers or to aid the Pakistan economy,
however.  It served as the perfect cover for meetings, just like the one he was
attending now. 

 “How are the last of our plans, shaping up?” Adib
asked.

Malook looked at the man sitting across from him
in the small, dim coffee lounge.  He waited for an answer as his business
associate leaned forward in his seat. 

“I’m happy to report that things are progressing
along quite well.  Our plans are in the last stages of implementation.  I was
able to confirm with one of our contacts in the United States that he has just
the right people to finish tying up the loose ends.”

“That’s excellent to hear.  Make sure that there
are no more screw ups.”

“Yes sir.”

“What about our other project?”

“Well, we were able to procure the needed
samples.  They’re being tweaked as we speak.  It should be ready for
dissemination in a few weeks.”

“Which lab are we using?”

“We were able to procure the needed samples and
they are currently being protected by our associates in a laboratory in Sokol. 
Dr. Adil is already there on site and he is starting the process to weaponize
the samples and prepare the altered samples for transfer.”

“Good.  Make contact again with the security
personnel there at the laboratory.  I want to schedule a meeting with them for
early next week.  I want to make sure that everyone is on the same page about
our expectations for this venture going forward.”

“Once the initial batches are complete,” Malook
continued, “we will have to do a ‘trial’ run of some sort.  Then we will have
to repackage the items for shipping.”

“Very well sir, I will speak with them
immediately.”

Malook watched as the other man got up from the
table and bowed slightly before exiting the building.  Malook understood that
thousands of people were going to die once their plans were fully implemented. 
That was all but certain. 

Malook didn’t like to think of himself as a
monster.  However, the lives of a thousand infidels were worth far less than
the life of even one of his people.  And for Malook, his people’s lives were
the only lives that he cared about.  He was confident that his plan was the
only way to right the wrong done to his people by the Americans and to forge a
new future for his home country. 

Malook had sat by for too many years while a
foreign country had ravaged his homeland.  It was disgusting.  What was even
more disgusting was the way that the Western media attempted to portray his
brothers who were fighting the good fight with him in this cause.  They were
being portrayed as common thugs who raped and pillaged. 

Be it Al-Qaeda or the Taliban or the Haqqai
network, the goal was clear.  To liberate their homeland from foreign
invaders.  To unite their people against a common threat.  Malook would have
thought that the United States would have taken heed to the hard learned
lessons that the Soviets had gained with they invaded Afghanistan in the
1980s.  But no, the U.S. hadn’t and now its citizens were going to pay,
greatly.  The Haqqai network would not show any weakness or mercy.

ictoria’s posture and
smile exuded confidence—even if she didn’t really feel all that confident—as
she walked into the lobby area of Hotel Catalina in downtown Dallas. 

She was wearing her favorite “power suit”—a black
Versace skirt-suit that she had managed to buy last year after scraping up
savings for about two years.  However, to watchful eyes Victoria’s suit was at
least three seasons out of fashion by now. 

The Hotel Catalina was a historical landmark,
having been built at the turn of the twentieth century.  The outside façade of
the building consisted of a classical, tan pewter stone with intricate floral
designs and pillars.  The inside of the hotel had a characteristically European
feel.  The golden chandelier at the entrance of the hotel gave the building a
distinctively “old money” air. 

The fragrant smell of yellow roses greeted patrons
as soon as they walked through the front doors of the famed hotel.  The roses
sat in expensive vases that decorated most of the tabletops of the foyer in the
hotel.  The floors on the inside of the hotel were an expensive Italian
marble.  Impressive marble columns also stunned customers as they entered.

Hotel Catalina had fourteen floors altogether and
even the smallest, least expensive room cost over two hundred dollars per
night.  The hotel sported a grand ballroom circa 1920 that was still used for
the formal galas and fundraising events attended by the Dallas elite.

The Catalina Café was located on the Mezzanine
level of the hotel and was a world-renowned, five-star restaurant with a
Paris-taught executive chef.  The Catalina Café was an on-site restaurant that
mainly catered to the guests of the hotel, but also was open to the public. 
Well at least those members of the public who could afford the sky-high
prices. 

The hotel restaurant was known throughout the
business community as a great place to take prospective clients or to hash out
the details of a last minute deal.  However, the intimate seating inside of the
café was also the perfect place to take a romantic date. 

It was the hotel of choice for Hollywood actors
who were vacationing in the Lone Star state, international dignitaries, and the
native Texas elite.  In one of the happier times in their relationship, Joshua
had even surprised her one Valentine’s Day with an expensive night out on the
town including a stay at the Hotel Catalina. 

It was now close to eleven thirty in the morning, and
Victoria was fifteen minutes early for her lunch meeting with Richard Henning. 
He had insisted on meeting her at the hotel instead of his office in downtown
Dallas. 

Walking through the gold-plated double doors,
Victoria walked into the restaurant.  The hostess was standing at the stand at
the front entrance.

“Good Morning.  Welcome to the Hotel Catalina.  Do
you have reservations for today?” the young girl asked in the perkiest of
voices.  She was a young, twenty-something, brown haired girl who was probably
a college co-ed at UT-Dallas. 

“Yes.  Reservations for two under Sanchez,”
Victoria said.  She waited patiently while the hostess pulled up the
reservation in the computer system.

“There, I’ve found it.  Right this way, please,”
the hostess gestured, leading Victoria down the aisle to a large booth in the
middle section of the restaurant.  The booth was located near a row of windows
that showed passerbys on the outside street.  It was about noon, so the café
was hopping with guests who were trying to grab a quick lunch before their
daily activities.

Victoria waited for another thirty minutes at the
booth, and she was almost certain that Henning just wasn’t going to show.  She
half-expected that he might phone her or just send one of his senior aides to
let her know that he had been detained by some other important matter. 

Victoria removed her Blackberry from her purse and
opened up her email account.  She might as well try to get some work done while
she was waiting.  She sent a quick email to the IT department at the news
station to remind them to check out her laptop computer that had been having
problems connecting to the newspaper’s Citrix server. 

She then checked her inbox and discovered that she
had two new messages.  The first was a companywide email reminder about the
“Casual Friday” charity drive that was taking place during the last week of the
month. 

The second email was from an acquaintance who was
a member of the Dallas Police Department.  Since she was the “local crime”
reporter, Victoria had decided that she should make at least some effort to
follow up on the store robberies.  She had reached out to Detective Devin Sage
who was handling the case, and whom she had contacted for information on
previous stories.  Unfortunately, Detective Sage did not have any new
developments to report—other than what had already been disclosed to the
public.

Putting away her phone, Victoria glanced out of
the window.  Businessmen and women in fancy suits bustled around the street,
hailing cabs and walking hurriedly to their destinations. 

The avenue on which the hotel was located was in
the center of the business district, and so it always had a lot of activity on
the weekdays as people scurried to and from work.  She watched as a young
mother walked two twin towheaded babies in a double-basket stroller across the
street.  A girl who was dressed in a punk-rocker type look—complete with
multiple piercings and tattoos—was also walking on the street.  She was walking
hand-in-hand with what appeared to be her girlfriend, who was also similarly
dressed.

It was a perfect day to enjoy a leisurely stroll
around the city.  The weather in Dallas could be a bit peculiar in the winter. 
Most non-residents of Texas assumed that Texas remained at 100 degrees
Fahrenheit throughout the entire year, but that really wasn’t the case.  

While it was true that Dallas didn’t have the
typical four seasons, during winter months the possibility of snow wasn’t
altogether nonexistent.  In addition, some of the winter days could bring with
it a torrent of rain—though not lately, they had been in a serious drought for
the past year.  Today, however, it was a balmy 60 degrees and nice and sunny
outside, which made it perfect weather to go boating on White Rock Lake.

“Well hello there, Ms. Sanchez,” a male voice
boomed.  Victoria looked away from the window and up at Richard Henning in all
his glory.  Stately really was the best word to describe him.  He was wearing
what had to have been a three thousand dollar tailored, navy-blue Dolce &
Gabbana suit paired with gold cufflinks.  Ever the consummate businessman, he
had already extended his hand for a handshake.  Victoria stood up from her seat
and grasped Richard Henning’s hand. 

Victoria believed that you could tell a lot about
a person’s handshake.  Some people gave even keeled, firm handshakes that were
some indicator of their well-balanced approach to life.  Some people preferred
to give notoriously limp handshakes, which at the very best appeared that the
person was laidback or at the very worst gave the impression that that person
was weak. 

Others liked a Herculean shake, which she thought
was their attempt to display their strength (either mentally or physically) by
trying to break all of the bones in the other party’s right hand.  Richard
Henning’s shake fell squarely into the latter category.

There were three other burly men who were dressed
in suits and who sat in the booth directly behind them.  Obviously, they were
with Henning and she was guessing that they were his bodyguards.  Given his
recent predicament, that wasn’t surprising.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Henning.  Thank
you for speaking with me today.”  As soon as they both sat down, a young waiter
came over to their table to see if they were ready to order.  Victoria selected
a small salad and a cup of coffee.  She couldn’t have cared less about eating
lunch—she just wanted her questions answered.  The waiter left almost as
quickly as he came with both of their lunch orders. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Sanchez. 

“Do you mind if I record our conversation?” she
asked, taking out her tape recorder. 

“No, I do not have a reason to object to your
recording of our conversation.  I’ve read some of your articles in the
Dallas
Star Gazette
.  You have quite the talent for clearly reporting the facts. 
I trust that you won’t take anything that is said here today out of context.”

“Thank you.  I take pride in bringing important
news events to the attention of the citizens of Dallas.  I wanted to meet with
you today to talk about your harrowing ordeal in Pakistan this past year.”

“Yes, of course.  As you can expect, it was an
extremely difficult situation.”

“What do you believe motivated your kidnappers? 
Some have speculated that you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Henning cleared his throat before answering, “Well
in a more general context, U.S. lawmakers, and government officials thought
that we were making progress in the region, which prompted the ending of the
Iraq and Afghanistan wars.  The U.S. troop withdrawals from Afghanistan,
however, have had an unintended effect on the stability in the region.  As I’m
sure you are aware, the Middle East as a whole has had the reputation of being
somewhat of a hotbed for warring tribal factions and insurgency.  We thought
that we had left a stable foundation for democratic governance in Afghanistan,
which is why we decreased the troop level dramatically.  But the difficulties
that we’ve encountered due to what can be called as power vacuum has taken us
by surprise.” Henning paused, watching Victoria write down some notes on her
legal pad.

“Why do you believe that the conditions in
Afghanistan and Pakistan have regressed backwards since the early 2000s?” 
Victoria glanced back up at him.

“Well, there are a few explanations—that are
speculative in nature of course.  Some political analysts point to the domestic
instability of Pakistan, restraints on Afghanistan’s access to the regional water
supply, and Iran’s attempt to develop a nuclear warhead that has led to
increased tensions with the United States.  These critical regional issues are
posited to be severe regional pressure points of instability that have helped
to lead to a resurgence of civil conflicts between warring tribal factions
within both Afghanistan and Pakistan.  In turn, militant groups have come back
into the fray.”

“What about Afghan President Zhubar?”  President
Zhubar was the newly elected president of Afghanistan who was a Sunni Muslim
from one of the dominant Pashtun tribe.

“I met with President Zhubar during my last
visit.  He is a very intelligent and articulate man who I believe truly has the
best interests of his home country at heart.  He appears to be making his best
efforts to reduce the violence and to promote an enduring sense of national
unification, without embracing extremist rhetoric.  However, the situation
there has disintegrated over the past few years.  I’m afraid that my capture
will not be the end of the random attacks on foreign officials in the region.”

“But you were taken in Miranshah, Pakistan
correct?”

“Well yes, officially.  But Miranshah is on the
Afghanistan-Pakistan border.”

“What do you believe the United States and other
developed countries can do in order to reduce the instability in the region? 
Is it just an issue that is ceded to the Afghanistan and Pakistan governments?”

“Let me just say that, for any country national
sovereignty is obviously of the utmost importance.  Any actions that the
international community may choose to undertake in assistance to Pakistan and
Afghanistan must be just that,
assistance
.  Moreover, any assistance
given by the international community must be through an active partnership with
the troubled country’s leadership.  It should never be the prerogative of the
United States or any other Western nation to undermine the ability of the two
countries to handle their own state affairs.”  Henning glanced away from
Victoria as the waiter arrived with their order.  Victoria slowly stirred her
coffee, watching Henning’s movements as he heartily dived into his sandwich.

“Do you anticipate any future trips to the area?”
she asked.

Henning laughed.  “Ms. Sanchez, I’m not a
clairvoyant, but I can assure you that I have no plans to revisit the area
anytime soon.”

Victoria smiled and leaned forward, crossing her
legs under the table.  “Well, sure that position is very understandable,” she
paused before continuing, and Henning glanced at her, “I was curious because my
research has uncovered that your recent trip to Afghanistan and Pakistan were
not your first visits to the region, correct?”

Henning’s face sobered up a little.  He still kept
his smile but it was beginning to falter around the edges.

“Yes.  You are correct.  It wasn’t my first trip
to the region.”  Henning replied.

“My research indicates that you visited
Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Russia in 2010 and 2011.”

“Since my term as a U.S. Congressman, I have still
remained active and influential in the international community.  Therefore, I
still make international trips on occasion.  I also visited the United Kingdom,
France, Belgium, and Japan during those years as well.”

Bingo
, Victoria thought.  Richard Henning’s
smug smile disappeared from his face.  His voice had also changed from the
carefree tone that he had affected a few minutes ago to a very measured tenor.

“Right.  Of course, other representatives and
senators have visited abroad as well.  So that’s not unusual.  However, none of
the other congressmen or former senators owns a multimillion dollar company
that has a client account that has ties to both Afghanistan and Russia.”