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Authors: Alan L. Lee

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BOOK: Sandstorm
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“Damn right,” Drake shot back. “This is Senator Bryce Lipton we’re talking about.”

As was the case so many times, it only became important when a prominent name was involved. What did that take? Five minutes? Already Champion wasn’t the secretary of state’s biggest fan. “It’s also the murder of someone from my side of the fence and an illegally sanctioned operation involving a foreign government that could have us on the brink of another war or a jihad. A situation this administration would have to deal with for years.”

That assessment was greeted with thoughtful looks from the three powerful men. It certainly wasn’t the way President Hudson wanted to spend his years in the Oval Office. He had run his campaign on the strength of change and a different path for a country that had seemingly lost its way.

A decidedly more controlled secretary of state addressed Champion this time. “Just how certain are you of Senator Lipton’s involvement?”

Champion began to lay it all out for them, underscoring that whatever was planned appeared to be imminent. He explained that even though the operation had just recently come across the CIA’s radar, it had been in play for a couple of years, starting with Erica Janway’s being set up in Moscow. Jaws literally dropped when Champion relayed the information that was confirmed by Lipton’s son, who played a pivotal role himself. They didn’t need to be reminded that Davis Lipton worked for the CIA as well.

“He gave up this information willingly? Ratted out his old man just like that?” Spencer asked, his forehead rows of skepticism. Champion realized he had to tread very carefully. “I’ll merely say that he understood the nature of the question and its implications.”

Drake chuckled as he shifted forward. “What did you do, kidnap the boy and torture him?”

“He was detained by individuals who do not work for the agency.”

Drake wasn’t chuckling anymore as the president followed up, seeking clarity. “So, you’re assuring us the CIA did not commission or outsource Lipton’s detainment?”

“To be clear, the CIA gave no such directive.”

After Champion had given the latest developments, which included confirmation of Davis Lipton’s statement that a large shipment of centrifuges was packaged and ready to be shipped to Iran, the president decided to take a break. But first, he asked Champion to excuse himself and give them a moment.

Outside, Champion could see that the trio was still talking. President Hudson got up to stretch and while doing so, picked up the phone on his desk. It was a short conversation. Champion caught himself staring, so he returned his attention to the Rose Garden. He assumed it wouldn’t be a violation of protocol, so he began to walk down the West Wing Colonnade to get some circulation back into his legs. There was a Secret Service agent stationed nearby, and probably a couple more he didn’t immediately see, so if he was violating a rule, he’d know about it in no time. His mind drifted again to wondering how many people who had shaped this country’s destiny had made this very walk. It was impossible to ignore the significance. On his way back toward the Oval Office, he noticed a pair of legs extending from a bench. The woman’s face and body were blocked by one of the pillars that lined the corridor. As he got closer, he was prepared to give a courtesy “Hello” and keep moving. He stopped in his tracks just short of the bench when he saw it was Amanda. He smiled when he noticed her hands were occupied with two bottles of beer, one extended for him. He graciously took it and flopped down next to her, loosening his tie as he drank.

“Thanks.”

Amanda finished a long swallow of her own. “Don’t mention it. Even shitheads deserve a break.”

 

CHAPTER
56

With Alex taking a shower, Nora was alone in the outer room. She buried her face in her hands. The events of the past few days had happened at a whirlwind pace.

It was still hard to accept that her dear friend Erica was gone. Some of her anger had dissipated, giving way to grief. She’d never see her friend again or hear her reassuring voice that never stopped mentoring. Now, she felt the pain of having put her former lover in a situation that could cost him his life. There was no one to blame for that except herself. Despite her telling him that he’d done enough, Alex was determined to see this through, and Nora didn’t understand what was motivating him.

Not knowing the Iranians’ timetable, Sara and Duncan cleared out all the documents and took them to the room down the hall. Duncan continued to study everything as if he were cramming for the most important exam of his life. If Alex was going to go forward with this ludicrous plan, he wanted his friend to have as much information as possible.

Nora was deciding whether or not it was a good idea to join them: the Iranians were probably expecting Janko to be alone. Alex was already taking a risk in hoping they would accept him in Janko’s absence. The possibility existed that they would try to kill him to protect the secrecy of their operation.

Nora wished she could convince Alex to stand down. She thought about going into the bathroom while he showered and shooting him up with the tranquilizers still at their disposal. Duncan would help her move him to the other room. He’d sleep it off until the Iranians came and left empty-handed.

She shook her head at what was a stupid idea. He would only get angry with her all over again. What she couldn’t easily dismiss was a burning desire to reunite with Alex. Being around him again felt right. He was good for her nerves, and she felt safe with him. Alex, though, hadn’t indicated in any way that he still had any lingering feelings for her. It didn’t matter to her at the moment. Could he really resist if she slipped her naked body into the shower next to him, ready to give him the release they both desperately needed? He would certainly remember how good it felt when they made love. She made up her mind and began unbuttoning her blouse. Next she tugged at her skirt, pulling it down, not regretting her decision. She had her hand on the bathroom door handle, anticipating him accepting her.

Just then, there was a hard knock at the door.

 

CHAPTER
57

They clearly had no idea who they were really dealing with. To think two people would be enough was laughable. Especially two people with average skills. If he wanted, Yadin could easily kill them both without even drawing attention. Their demise, though, would only raise suspicion about Dr. Franz Mueller. Right now, they served a purpose. It wouldn’t hurt for the Iranian agents to observe him in plain sight. What he had in store was akin to performing a magic act. They would see, but not comprehend the trick.

Yadin had no intention of losing them in the crowded, noisy Grand Bazaar. Because of its enormous size, he had memorized the path he needed to take, so there was no need for urgency. The historic bazaar consisted of numerous narrow, jammed alleyways, lined with colorful shops and hungry merchants eager to move their merchandise. Yadin stopped on several occasions, inspecting various items: clothes, jewelry, and rugs. He seemed particularly interested in watches, haggling over the price whenever one caught his eye. No amount of bargaining seemed to satisfy his price point, so he kept shopping.

The merchants who ran the bazaar were known as
bazaris
: conservative, politically very powerful, and growing more tired every day of a dwindling bottom line caused by their government’s foreign policy. They were willing to ride the promises of their president a little longer, but patience was running thin. The prospect of losing businesses their families had run for generations didn’t leave a palatable taste in their mouths.

One who held strong reservations about the government’s direction was Reza Yasrebi. He never had a clue that his careless vocal opinions were the reason he was singled out. He was suspicious initially, but when a fellow Iranian approached him with the equivalent of five thousand dollars just to talk, he felt compelled to hear the man out. With the promise of fifty thousand more on the table, Yasrebi agreed to the man’s terms. For the life of him, he couldn’t come up with a reason not to accept the offer. There was nothing on the surface that seemed sinister about it, and he’d dissected the request from several angles during a couple of restless nights. In tough economic times, the decision was that much easier to make. All he had to do was keep a brand-new watch in its box, under lock and key, until someone came to claim it. That person would also pay him an additional four thousand dollars to make the transaction legitimate. It was that harmless.

As Yadin continued his browsing, he nearly got bumped by a fabric-filled wheelbarrow pushed along by an overzealous porter. He stopped at a storefront window, inspecting its offerings. Once he saw in the window’s reflection that the male portion of his shadow was still with him, he moved on. The female was slightly ahead, pretending to shop. If they stuck to their pattern, each time he stopped, they’d exchange positions. The man would continue on ahead of him while the woman would assume the rear position. Yadin marched on, overshooting his destination on purpose before reversing direction. He had to suppress laughter because the woman was startled, caught unprepared by his movement. She stopped cold in the middle of the alleyway, and that resulted in two people bumping her from behind, nearly knocking her over. Yadin went inside the cramped store, in no hurry as he inspected items behind the display cases. One of the clerks let him browse before offering service. Exhibiting seasoned sales prowess, the man didn’t speak Farsi at first.

“Looking for watch? You come to the right place. We have much to choose from.”

Yadin nodded his head. Not bothering to look up he said, “I see that. Very nice collection.”

“All price ranges too. And for you, a good deal. The best deal.”

The clerk followed Yadin’s footsteps like a tiger at the zoo locking onto potential prey, ready to pounce just in case the bars disappeared.

Dissatisfied, Yadin shook his head. “I’m looking for a watch with multiple time zones. I travel a lot, and it would come in handy. Something that’s one-of-a-kind. I like unique things.”

The clerk look puzzled as he scanned his display cases. He pulled out a tray for the man to see. “How about these? They are fine timepieces with dual time zones.”

Yadin didn’t even look. “No, I don’t think so.”

“But these are top quality. I give you great deal.”

Yadin had performed the charade long enough. “Is the owner available?”

“Yes, but I can help you with—”

“The owner, if you please.” Yadin’s tone changed just enough to convey a degree of seriousness.

The clerk reluctantly disappeared behind beaded curtains that led to a back room. While he waited, Yadin noticed he was being watched from the outside by the male portion of his surveillance team. He paid him no mind. There was nothing he or the woman would learn from this shopping experience.

The curtains swung open and a slightly overweight, sun-drenched man emerged, his eyes curious and his mouth still working on a meal. The clerk on his heels whispered in his ear, and when he began to follow, the elder man waved him off. He walked cautiously closer, inspecting the foreigner.

“Hello. Welcome to my store, I’m Reza Yasrebi,” he said with a toothy grin that was not reciprocated. “I’m told you seek a watch. As you can see, we have many.”

Yadin closed the distance so his conversation would be more intimate. “As I mentioned to your clerk, I seek a particular watch. One with multiple time zones. Probably the only one you carry. I like unique things.”

There was recognition on Yasrebi’s face and the smell of his meal on his breath. “I might have such an item for someone of your refined taste. I keep it in back. Would you like to see it?”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Yasrebi excused himself as he went behind the curtain. He reappeared holding a watch box. He placed it on the table and opened the box for his customer. Inside was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship that took even Yasrebi by surprise. The potential owner of the watch had no reaction, but it was exactly as he described. The large face was cream-colored, and on its perimeter were several mini circles that contained their own watch faces, capable of being programmed for multiple time zones. The bezel and band were made of highly polished stainless steel. Yadin took off the watch he’d been wearing and replaced it with the new one. To Yasrebi, he merely appeared to be going through the motions of checking the watch out as he depressed three of the six side buttons. A few seconds later, unbeknownst to Yasrebi, the watch provided Yadin with feedback as it vibrated ever so slightly underneath.

“I’ll take it.”

“Ah, a satisfied customer. That is why people come to see Yasrebi.” He produced an animated, even larger grin. “And for you, the price is six thousand dollars.”

Yadin paused to gather himself. Getting angry would only draw unwanted attention. Instead, he produced the look of a man who was not in the mood to negotiate. “What say we make it four thousand?”

“Four thousand for such a fine piece of craftsmanship!” Yasrebi raised his voice slightly. “You are robbing me blind.”

“If you think there’s someone else who’ll offer you more…” Yadin began to put away the wallet he had placed on the counter.

“No, no, no,” Yasrebi protested, talking more with his hands as he calculated the promised additional payoff disappearing as well. “These are tough times. The watch is yours for four thousand.”

After he paid and Yasrebi reboxed the watch, Yadin was out of the store and back among the horde of people. In the background waiting for him were Iran’s version of Boris and Natasha.

 

CHAPTER
58

Alex squinted to see through the cascading warm water shelling him from the showerhead. He wiped the stream away from his face and stepped to the side in order to fully open his eyes. Standing in front of him was Nora, her blouse open and her skirt in hand. He made no attempt to cover up, and she wasn’t concentrating in that direction anyway. It was the look on her face that got his attention.

BOOK: Sandstorm
7.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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