The Puppetmasters (38 page)

The only people remaining in the hotel conference room were Fields, Mickey, and two U.S. intelligence officials. They requested their own debriefing of the Orion CEO. He agreed and patiently answered their questions for hours. There was not much more he could tell them they didn’t already know, except about Rashid. They were curious about him and wondered about his role and his background. Fields knew little of Rashid’s personal life or background. They asked for his opinion on whether Rashid was a good guy or bad guy. Fields’ instinct was that Rashid was good, that he had no interest in overthrowing the government or taking over. He seemed to have had a personal grudge against the Shazebs, and was only too willing to help the Orion people escape. Fields voiced the thought that their rescue had answered that question.

The questions then moved to Kendall. The men were clearly frustrated that Fields couldn’t shed any more light on her status. They seemed to understand how she got left behind, but Fields knew he was the last person they would confide in. He gladly filled them in on the limited background he knew and her role at Orion.

Fields wasn’t interested in asking them any questions or seeking their help. He had his own sources. Not only did he have his contact at the NSA—Frank Reynolds—he also had a wide circle of influential mover-and-shaker-type friends starting with Senator Robinsford from Washington State. The senior senator chaired the prestigious Armed Services Committee, which included the Subcommittees on Strategic Forces and Readiness and Management Support. The Senator could be pressed into pushing for more resources in the Arabian Sea, if need be.

The men finally ran out of questions—or sapient answers from the Orion CEO—and headed to the hospital to speak with Carson. As they rose to make their exit, Fields warned them that Carson had been in the hospital almost the entire time while in Afghanistan, much of that time sedated and out of it. He suggested they would be wasting their time. They agreed in theory, but declared that protocol dictated they at least run through the usual questions.

Only Fields and Mickey were left in the conference room. As they walked back to their hotel rooms, Fields sent Mickey on to his room to begin dealing with the personal living arrangements of Dr. Siddra. Mickey already had a two-bedroom condominium in mind. It was in his brand new complex on Lake Union. Only one-third of the complex remained for sale. The two-bedroom was next to his on the sixth floor and had a breathtaking view of Lake Union. While Dr. Siddra may not appreciate the large bodies of water in and around the Seattle area, having lived her entire life in a landlocked country and being used to a dry, arid climate, Mickey felt she would soon acclimate out of sheer relief at getting away from Afghanistan, if nothing else. He and his staff would be there to help. He had to admit he was intensely curious about this mysterious woman who was the cause of much of the discussion and activity of the day.

Mickey fired up his computer and dispatched an email to his real estate agent to prepare to make an offer on the available unit.

Paul Fields sat at his desk alone in the spacious hotel room and ordered dinner. He looked at his watch and silently cursed. He realized his family was still sleeping, as was Daniel.
Damn time zone,
he thought. His meal arrived hot and sumptuous. He had eaten cold and decidedly utilitarian meals for weeks while at the Afghan military base. He didn’t know what bothered him more, the lack of choice or the unfamiliarity of the flavors and spices. Before Afghanistan, he had everything, he thought. But he had been brought to his knees. He’d lost his freedom and the basic comforts of life.

He sat before the large window at his hotel room desk and enjoyed the sparkling water below. Before he powered up his computer, he reveled in the quiet and peaceful feeling that came over him. He searched for the reason for his sudden contentment, and realized he had gotten used to a solitary existence while in Afghanistan. This day had been filled with confusion, chaos, and many different moods and personalities, just like back at the office. It was a lot to process. The newfound freedom to move about and make even the smallest of decisions had not been lost on him. He liked this sudden spirituality that allowed him to slow down and reflect on every aspect of the day, his participation, and how he could make the greatest difference the next day. He could either decide to be an asshole—as he’d been in the past, running over people and getting his way at all cost—or use his money for good.

His mind wandered to the obscene amount of money he made. He’d been
a co-founder of Orion Premier Net Services and therefore owned the bulk of the shares. When the company went public, it was such a huge financial success that he had doubled his portfolio in six months. His annual salary was eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and he was usually awarded a six million dollar bonus plus at least ten million dollars’ worth of stock options. He shook his head at the outrageous benefits package he had and could find no justification for it.

He was intrigued by this sudden crisis of conscience, and made a personal vow to make things more equitable at the company. He reasoned that he and Glenn should make far less, and the employees should make a lot more.

He wasn’t sure what to do about the shareholders. Those self-serving wannabes that hitched their wagon to his and constantly clamored for action, answers, and money, was something he would deal with, but not today. That would require a lot of thought to arrive at the best way to handle them. But one thing he did know was that they would no longer make his life miserable. He would not bow to them or run his company based on how they’d react. He would be honest with the public, and if people didn’t want to invest in Orion, then fine. The company’s success and fast-track to Fortune 500 had been meteoric. Its product line was solid, contemporary, and high tech. The future was golden.

The one thing the CEO drew the line at, though, was
Prophecy,
his baby. He would not give it up. It was too valuable to let it die. Instead, he would continue to use it to monitor his competitors, giving Orion the business edge. But he would also begin using
Prophecy
to do good things all around the world. He would use it for his new, personal “projects.” In the past, he might not have cared what people thought of him, though he was always mindful of his reputation. The new Paul Fields pledged to alter his standing in the world.

Fields ate his dinner, appreciating the fine wine that accompanied it, and then sat back with a satisfied smile. It was now late enough that his family should be awake and eating their breakfast. He picked up his phone and turned on the computer.

The next day saw more red tape and stalling from both the U.S. and Israeli governments. It was clear the Orion plane would not be leaving this day. That was just as well, since Glenn Carson was not quite ready for a lengthy airplane ride. He was allowed to check out of the hospital shortly after Noon, with strict orders to remain in his hotel room to rest and recuperate. Fields visited him once in the late afternoon and was struck by his normalcy, except for the obvious medical condition.

Of the two of them, the whole kidnapping incident from beginning to end had obviously affected Fields more than Carson. it was almost like Carson had experienced nothing more than a medical event. Yes, he had seen the flight attendant murdered in his presence. But the CFO had not heard those nightly
screams and lived the drama of daily uncertainty and unending boring days and nights alone, locked in a room that was nothing more than a hovel.

Glenn Carson noticed the change in Paul Fields. The latter was more thoughtful and less self-centered and, frankly, less self-serving. Carson was glad of the change, but wondered how it would affect the business. Had Fields lost his edge? Was the ruthless businessman who outmaneuvered his competitors in business gone? The CFO was particularly concerned when Fields commented that he was a changed person and planned to conduct his life and business under the new-and-improved version of Paul Fields. Carson wondered if Fields had either gone off the deep end or was suffering some type of temporary post-traumatic-stress event.

At one point during their discussion, Carson sent his wife out with a security person in tow to do a little shopping. He and Fields continued their discussion about the future. Carson realized everything would be fine once he heard that Fields would never give up
Prophecy.
He breathed a sigh of relief and almost chuckled out loud. If Fields really wanted to turn over a new leaf, he should begin by ridding himself of
Prophecy.
But the temptation was too strong, and the results too evident.
Prophecy
was secure and here to stay—for the time being.

Dr. Maysah Siddra had been put through the ringer at the Israeli military complex. She was delighted at the opportunity to travel to the U.S. and was willing to have Paul Fields sponsor her once she was investigated and released by U.S. Immigration.

Israeli officials finally tired of the interrogation, and the Mossad, too, signaled its lack of interest in questioning her further. She was promptly turned over to the U.S., where government officials put her up at a hotel a short distance from where the Orion executives and staff were staying. Protocol mandated that she stay at the U.S. embassy under guard until her paperwork had been completed. But since the U.S. embassy was in Jerusalem, that wasn’t possible.

Dr. Siddra was checked into a room with two beds and an adjoining room. A female FBI agent was posted to her room and would be staying with her for the duration.

The sour-faced U.S. official turned out to be very efficient, and he managed to secure replacement passports and the necessary paperwork for Dr. Siddra to travel the next day.

While U.S. intelligence operatives interrogated her basically all day, it soon became apparent that she had no secrets to reveal. Her background was nothing short of boring. The government—needing female doctors to treat female patients—paid for her medical education in France. Her only relatives were a
band of
Kuchi
nomads who had left her behind at a hospital in Kabul when she became very ill. They needed to get out of town fast, because of involvement by one of their members in a particularly gruesome car bombing. Maysah Siddra had been fifteen at the time. She barely remembered those wild, fiery people, other than her two little sisters who had died when they ventured out of their camp and into a mine field.

With striking long black, sleek hair and piercing brown eyes, she had been noticed right away by a government official’s wife, who saw the intelligence and independent spirit of a strong-willed female. The wife had recommended the government sponsor Siddra for the remainder of her education and subsequent travel to France for medical studies. As soon as Siddra had recovered from her illness, she was immediately sent to a boarding school, where the rigorous education process began. She quickly learned French and English. She knew that without hard work, her life was sunk. In order to make something of herself and to help other Afghan females, she had promised herself to study hard and excel. She did just that, and finished at the top of her class. When she was released back to Afghanistan, President Shazeb’s wife met her, reviewed her credentials, and promptly snapped her up to be the children’s physician. From time to time, the palace women had availed themselves of her services as well.

Dr. Siddra was appalled that after immersing herself in the educational process for so many years, she was forced to work for the one man she despised: Mujtaba Shazeb, the Afghan dictator. Everyone knew he was corrupt and personally responsible for so much suffering in Afghanistan. The whole time she was in France, the locals had shown nothing but contempt for Shazeb. The French government knew he was evil but kowtowed to him because of the parallel business interests. Shazeb had no end of Afghanistan money to spend on military weapons and the latest, most high-tech fighter jets. The French were only too happy to oblige and asked few questions.

She had only been at the palace for six months when the Orion people arrived. She was intensely curious about all of them and looked for an opportunity to help them and herself. She was shrewd and careful and had purposely stayed an arm’s length away from Kendall. Dr. Siddra made no effort to seek her out or appear interested in the least. She knew there were hidden cameras and listening devices in the Orion people’s rooms, and wasn’t about to blow a chance to escape to a better life. Dr. Siddra was all business whenever she went into Kendall’s room. Her questions were methodical and efficient, and she exited without lingering for even a polite, personal exchange of pleasantries.

Maysah Siddra could not sleep her last night in Israel. She was too excited about her new life. It was more than she had ever expected. She thought she must be dreaming and that she would wake up to find herself back in Afghanistan. But before she was through, she might wish she was back in Afghanistan leading her
simple, mundane life. For her, nothing would be the same. She would soon be introduced to a strange culture that would have her longing for the comfortable childhood days of dancing the
Kuchi
tribal dances around the nightly campfire.