The Wolves of Freydis Page 8

  They continued looking at the new reports. There were now 61 reports, but none of them contained the information they were looking for. A few more people who were wounded and could give statements were still in the hospital and medically unfit to be questioned.

  “Thanks again for the help, Ben, it is really highly appreciated.” James stood. “I need to get over to the hospital and talk to the doctor, to see if we can transport Carter back home.”

  Ben got up, but James waved him down. “Before I do that, however, I’m going to tell you what the Devereux’s were working on.” James had made up his mind; he was not going to ask anyone at A-Echelon for permission. Ben Friedman was one of only a very few people he truly trusted.

  For the next hour, James gave him every bit of information about A-Echelon and the Devereux’s projects. At some points, Ben went totally slack-jawed and stopped him to ask questions.

  When James stopped talking, Ben was on his feet, pacing around the room. “Shit Jim, and I thought we had a problem with thermobaric bombs. Now you’re telling me we are looking at nuclear obliteration.”

  “Yes my friend, and, unfortunately, there seems to be more than a distinct possibility that those damn ancient nukes are real, not just internet conspiracy theories. The problem is we don’t know who else is out there looking for them.”

  “This is giving an entirely new meaning to the term ‘nuclear arms race.’” Ben muttered.

  “Now Ben, here’s the rap.” James’ face looked as if he was in pain. “You cannot talk to anyone in Mossad about this.”

  “Shit man! You’ve got to be kidding!” Ben exploded. “You can’t be serious; you can’t expect me not to talk to my bosses. This is a cluster-fuck. We’ll have to put people on this right away. We have to find those fuckin nukes and quick.”

  James held his hand up for Ben to stop and listen. “Ben, the predicament we have is that A-Echelon has a mole problem.”

  “What? … Oh shit on top of all this we have to deal with a fuckin mole?”

  James smiled inwardly despite the situation. It amused him how quickly his easy going, fun-loving, polite friend could become such an efficient user of profane language when the occasion called for it.

  “Yes, unfortunately, that seems to be the case. I have no idea how deep or how far it goes, or how many are involved. You, my friend, are the only person I trust at the moment.”

  “You sound a bit unsure. Do you indeed know you have a mole problem or do you just think you have one?”

  “At the moment it’s suspicion only, but if this bomb explosion is connected to the Devereuxs, then it is definitely the case.”

  Ben plucked his baseball cap off and started scratching his head. After a while he looked at James and grinned. “Okay. I will let MI6 know to pull James Bond off the streets and get out of our way – Ben and James are about to get to work.”

  James smiled. Ben always had the weirdest things to say in the direst of circumstances. That was his stress coping mechanism, and most of the time it helped to break the tension for everyone – like now.

  “You phone that doctor and find out when you can see him regarding getting your Professor Indiana Jones back home. Getting him back to the States will take at least one worry off our minds.”

  James grinned, picked up his phone, and called the hospital. He felt very lucky when he reached the doctor’s secretary, and she told him the doctor would be able to meet with him within the hour.

  Ben called his men outside and told them that he and James were on their way to the hospital. Ben waited in the hospital lobby while James spoke to the doctor who was uneasy with the idea of moving Carter so soon. James could not tell him the reason, but in the end, he was persuasive enough, and the doctor agreed. However, the agreement came with a long list of provisos.

  All that remained was for James to make the necessary arrangements with Director Patrick, which was not too difficult once he explained that Carter needed better treatment that he could only get if he was back home. Also, being home where family and friends could visit him easily would help speed his emotional and physical recovery. James didn’t give Hunter the real reason for the necessity to move Carter.

  With Hunter’s approval in hand, he went to Carter and told him about the plan to move him. He didn’t tell Carter the real reason either.

  Carter, although still hazy most of the time from the cocktail of drugs dripping into his system, knew James was not being entirely honest with him. James’ explanation about security concerns for all of the survivors did not convince him. He suspected something more than that was afoot.

  His first reaction was to resist the idea. Leaving Jerusalem alone felt as if he was abandoning Mackenzie and Liam. He was still blaming himself for going to the restroom; it didn’t make sense, but he could not get past the thought that he was not there for them when they needed him. After a few minutes of arguing and thought, reality got the upper hand, and he agreed.

  James also convinced him that it was important not to discuss it with anyone including his in-laws. That request had him on high alert again, but he decided not to ask for an explanation yet. He trusted James would explain things to him later.

  James and Ben went to work immediately, to plan how Carter and the Andersons could be moved to the airport and kept safe at the same time. Hunter had agreed to the use of a private charter again to transport everyone back home. Part of the doctor’s orders included that a nurse was to accompany them and that Carter was to be sedated for the duration of the trip.

  James and Ben made the necessary arrangements for secure communications between them before they said their goodbyes. Eighteen hours later the group was safely in the air en route to Boston where Carter’s room at Massachusetts General Hospital – one of the best hospitals in the USA, was ready for him.

  ***

  At Massachusetts General Hospital James made arrangements for Carter to be guarded again. This time, there was a lot of explaining to do. Carter was extremely suspicious when he realized that his room was under guard. James explained that it was precaution more than anything else because they still didn’t know who was responsible for the attack and so all survivors were being watched.

  Carter just listened to James and when he finished the explanation Carter looked at him and said, “Bull. That explanation has more shit in it than a stockyard, Jim. As soon as I’ve recovered from the trip here, you will have to come back here and tell me the truth.”

  James raised his eyebrows and grinned, thinking; I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it away from you. He stayed over in Boston for a few days until he was sure his friend was in good hands and then returned to DC.

  The thoughts about the security breach at A-Echelon continued to haunt him and he was still thinking about how to approach the issue. At best it was unsettling to think of everyone as a potential quisling or traitor. But until he could find out more that’s how he had to handle all interaction with co-workers at A-Echelon.

  ***

  Two days after Carter’s arrival in Boston the doors to his hospital room swung open and to his relief and pleasure, Bly and Ahote put their heads around it. “Oh yes!” He reached out his good arm, and Bly moved in close to give him a kiss as Ahote gently took his other hand and just hung on as if never to let it go.

  For moments there was silence between them, something too big had happened - it felt as if there was a yawning gap in front of them, where to start? What to say?

  “God I’m so thankful to see you both, you have no idea.” Carter’s voice was wobbly, and the hand Ahote was holding shook badly.

  “I just wish we’d known sooner, it’s been a nightmare, one we don’t seem to be able to wake up from.”

  “One we may never wake up from,” Carter whispered.

  Ahote pulled a chair up for Bly to sit on, but she gingerly settled on the bed beside Carter, she couldn’t put the distance a chair would invoke between them.

  Ahote tilted his head to one side as if c
onsidering, “Maybe we will Carter, and maybe we won’t, but we’re in it together, all three of us, and we’ll see it through somehow.”

  Bly nodded, firmly holding Carter’s good arm.

  “They told you about… about what happened?”

  Bly nodded and whispered. “Yes, they did,” tears ran down her face, “It’s awful darling, so awful.”

  Carter closed his eyes against the pain.

  Ahote squeezed his hand. “We’ll get through this lad, your Grandfather Will would insist on it now, wouldn’t he.”

  Carter nodded silently.

  Bly wiped at her tears and sat straighter, “Tell us all about your injuries and how you are progressing and what the doctors plan next.”

  She could see Carter’s effort to push the pain away as he described all he knew and how much better he was already after coming home.

  Watching him carefully, Bly could see he was not in any way defeated and so put forward an idea she wanted him to consider.

  “When you are ready to come home, we want you to come and live with us until you are healthy enough to return to your own homestead. Freydis misses you, and I want you where I can make sure you return to full health.”

  Ahote interrupted at that point, “Better say yes Carter, you know what a force she is to be reckoned with. There’s no way I’m going to continue to live with her if you refuse.”

  That drew a smile from Carter at long last, and he nodded his head. “You two take the cake,” his voice shook with a tiny tremor.

  Later that afternoon he had two more visitors. Not expecting anyone after Bly and Ahote left, Carter had drifted into a daze that was full of jumbled movement and misery. When the door swung open yet again, and he found himself looking into the eyes of two of his dearest friends, Carter almost cried in relief.

  He sat forward and raised his good arm “Jacob, Pete, I can’t believe it! How did you guys get past the guards? I’m sure they wouldn’t have let you both in, did you bribe or overpower them?”

  “They didn’t see us,” Jacob laughed, “we came in undercover with these.” Flowers and grapes landed on the bed table. “We were ordered to bring these from everyone at Uni,” he said.

  “But,” interrupted Pete, no one believed us when we said men don’t take flowers to hospitals. They threatened all sorts of awful things if we reneged.”

  “Yeah, they were going to pull the power on Pete’s computers and then lock him in a room without them…”

  “And,” Pete responded, “They said they’d shove Jacob behind a desk and never let him out to do field work again - even if he found a dozen more gold birds.”

  Carter was chuckling at their enthusiasm, “Well I still reckon you bribed the guards.”

  The atmosphere suddenly turned somber when they stopped talking.

  “Man, I’m so sorry about Mackenzie and Liam,” Jacob said, “I just can’t believe they’re gone.”

  Pete was struggling to say something but ended up just looking at Carter as he nodded his head in agreement with Jacob.

  “Thank you guys, I’m glad to see you two.” Carter whispered.

  Chapter 11 -

  Competitive Response Solutions

  Dwayne Miller, the CEO of Competitive Response Solutions – CRS – stood in the boardroom pointing at the big screen on the wall while explaining the company’s quarterly financial performance to the five members of the board of directors.

  CRS had more than 500 employees working in offices located on every continent across the globe, except Antarctica.

  The company was in the information business, the most profitable commodity of the modern age. Throughout human history, information had always been the most valuable and profitable commodity, but very few people recognized it.

  Gathering and analyzing commercial information for clients was CRS’ specialty. Customers from across the globe paid CRS exorbitant amounts of money and kept them on retainer to know everything about their competitors and the market. It was called ‘competitive intelligence,’ and entailed the gathering and evaluation, in a legal and ethical manner, of commercial information regarding their opposition’s strengths and weaknesses to enhance business decision-making.

  CRS’s competitive intelligence activities provided their clients with short-term tactical advantages enabling them to capture bigger market shares and increased revenues. It also provided long-term strategic value by pointing out key risks and opportunities to their clients that helped them make better decisions and enhance organizational performance.

  Competitive intelligence did much more than simply trawl the internet to find information about a client’s competitors. Valuable information was rarely, if ever, easily found online. A diligent study that would produce good results for a customer required the gathering of information and analysis from a multitude of sources, which included customer and competitor interviews, news media, industry experts, government records, trade shows, conferences and public filings.

  CRS’s competitive analysis activities were all legal. In fact, CRS was one of the founding members of the watchdog body for this industry known as the Strategic Competitive Intelligence Professionals, and Dwayne Miller was the chairperson of the board of the SCIP.

  There were four directors attentively listening to Dwayne Miller. They were happy and impressed. The company just had another record quarter, showing a $300 million profit.

  The five men in the room, however, knew that the sterling performance of their company over the past few years had very little to do with their legal, competitive intelligence activities. More than 80% of their profits, skillfully hidden in those figures by their accountant, came from their illegal industrial espionage business.

  CRS’s legal activities were the ideal front to conceal their industrial espionage pursuits. It was, as Miller had pointed out to them a while ago, like a spider web covering a cave entry. It was an analogy he got from the director of their best and most lucrative client, Daiyan Nasser of the Institute of Scientific Research and Development in Saudi Arabia.

  Industrial espionage was as old as humanity. Père d'Entrecolles, a French Jesuit missionary in the early 1700’s, learned the secret techniques for manufacturing ceramics while in China. He passed this information back to France in his letters.

  In the 1800’s, the British hired a Scottish botanist and adventurer Robert Fortune to smuggle tea plants, seeds, and the secrets for growing tea, out of China into India. The result was that 40 years later India’s tea production surpassed China's.

  In modern times, General Motors, the IT giants – Oracle, Hewlett-Packard, and Google, - and oil companies such as Royal Dutch Shell, Exxon Mobil, and British Petroleum were all victims of industrial espionage. The military industrial complex, pharmaceutical companies, and technology companies, were some of the highest value targets of industrial spies.

  Acquisition of trade secrets was big business for CRS. In the shady world of industrial espionage, the removal, copying or recording of confidential or valuable information by any means, which included theft, bribery, blackmail, and technological surveillance, earned them the dubious reputation of the world’s leading industrial spy organization. As long as the world believed that China was the only perpetrator of this type of crime, CRS was flourishing, and no one would ever suspect them of any wrongdoing.

  Industrial spies used many of the same tools and methods that intelligence and security agencies across the world such as the CIA and FBI as well as terrorist organizations used.

  CRS was very careful to make sure that knowledge about their industrial espionage projects was not shared between directors. The five directors each took responsibility for one or more projects and hired his own contractors. He never discussed any of his projects with anyone other than Dwayne Miller. Some of the world’s most notorious, but anonymous, computer hackers and experts could be found among the contractors commonly hired by the CRS directors. Also in the service of CRS were a number of ex-Special Forces from Amer
ica, Russia, Israel, Britain, France, South Africa and various Middle Eastern countries.

  All projects were run as independent operations, very much like terrorist cells.

  The board meeting was over, and Miller invited everyone for lunch at the Corduroy on 9th Street. Later he had an appointment scheduled with one of the directors of the CRS board, Nate Gordon, to discuss his project. Gordon was the project manager for all projects related to the Institute of Scientific Research and Development in Saudi Arabia.

  Chapter 12 -

  We have to continue the work

  A-Echelon’s director, Hunter Patrick was having his second coffee of the morning while waiting for Irene O’ Connor and James Rhodes, two of his special agents, to turn up for a meeting. Recently, while discussing the results of his latest annual physical with him, Hunter’s doctor had told him to cut down on the coffee, start exercising and reduce stress. His high blood pressure coupled with an arrhythmia, an irregular heartbeat, made Hunter Patrick a mobile massive stroke waiting to happen.

  Hunter had grimaced as he walked out of the doctor’s office. Now, doctor, why don’t you tell me how I’m supposed to do that? He wondered. Maybe he should come and fill my shoes for a week and show me. But in the back of his mind, he knew the doctor was right. He had to do something, and with his sixty-seventh birthday a few months away it would probably be a good time to call it a day and retire.

  He had requested six weeks’ leave that would begin in three days’ time. His idea was to get away with his wife to a quiet place and think through his plans for the future. And in that regard, he had a little surprise he planned on giving James at this meeting.

  When Irene and James arrived, he showed them to their seats and got straight to the point. “We need to talk about the Devereuxs’ projects. I know it is very soon after the tragedy, but they were working on important matters, and we have to discuss how the projects should be continued.” He looked over the rim of his glasses at them. “Do you agree?”