The Puppetmasters Page 10

  “You know, you can’t just pay everyone off, and then it’s all fine! No, my mother does not need your money.”

  He was getting angry. “Listen, Kendall. I’m going out on a limb for you. This note business is risky and could get me shot, not to mention discovered. My counterparts are going to be angry with the request. But if it means you are willing to help us, they’ll do it. So give me a break!”

  “Great! I’m the victim, and you’re making me feel guilty! Get out of my room! I want to sleep. Maybe when I wake up, it’ll all have been just a nightmare. Leave … now!” She lay down on her bed and rolled toward the wall and away from him.

  Rashid was furious and stalked out of the room. He was also worried that she wouldn’t be able to go through with his plan. She seemed so terribly distraught, fragile, and vulnerable. Even if she did help, how could he trust that she would hold up her end of the plan?

  His father had taught him that Muslims believed that everyone would be tested during their lives. He had often quoted verses from the Koran that “God is with those who patiently persevere” and “And be steadfast in patience ….” His mother told him about the trials of the ancient Jewish people as they wandered through the desert on their way to Mt. Sinai. The wisdom that inspired him the most from his mother was that the Christian bible had one hundred and forty-four references to the virtues of patience.

  His heart was heavy and his mind raced as he made a mental list of the things he must do in the next day. Getting the note to Kendall’s mother would be tricky. He couldn’t believe that he had promised to do this for her. He wondered if he was going soft. He had never before let a woman interfere in his life. He saw how much trouble they could cause and had made a decision when he was younger not to take them too seriously or get involved until he was ready for a family life. But he bore the responsibility for a nation and maybe even the world. He couldn’t possibly include a woman at this time.

  He had to acknowledge, though, that he felt a stirring in his heart for Kendall. He didn’t understand it, and it made him furious. For the first time in his life, he was thinking about something or someone else than his single life’s mission of righting a wrong and destroying Mujtaba Shazeb and his sons.

  His goal really centered around the father, and he knew that it wasn’t the sons’ fault their father was such an evil man. But they had grown up in his shadow and held his same violent views. They had been raised to be catered to and obeyed at all costs. Rashid had stepped in many times when he came upon mainly Saaqib meting out some violent punishment for a perceived slight against him or his father. Several times Rashid had not arrived in time, and the poor victim was not able to be saved. Rather than own up to the sadistic deed, Saaqib simply had the body buried, and no one—least of all the victim’s family—ever knew what happened to the poor guy. It particularly sickened Rashid that, once or twice, Saaqib’s prey was a woman who would not submit when he took a liking to her. It was well known around Kabul that if a woman wanted to keep her virtue—not to mention her head—she should stay away from Saaqib and basically cover up so as not to be noticed by him.

  Rashid decided that he needed some time to himself to think and plan the next couple of days. He had built a very simple hut nearby within a grove of trees that provided seclusion. Since it was a couple miles from the palace, regular citizens did not venture out there. The farmlands, pasture, and meadows ran the other direction from the palace. This refuge was in a lower part of the lands owned by the president. None of the Shazeb family took long walks or got much exercise outdoors, including riding the horses they so prodigiously collected, and therefore Rashid had the full expectation of privacy.

  A little stream ran by about fifty feet outside the front door, and he often sat there for hours in quiet contemplation, listening to the gentle winds and slow-moving water as it lapped against the smooth rocks and grassy streambed. It helped him focus his energy on the matters of utmost importance and gave him the wisdom and strength he needed for the next step. He would go there now.

  But first, he must seek out Paul Fields. Rashid had a request that only Fields could carry out.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SPECIAL AGENT ANTHONY ZANDERS AND his associates had been working with Orion Premier’s head of security, Eric “Mickey” McDougall, for several days now. They had pored over every personnel file that might be even remotely related to the current crisis, and nothing of significance stood out. They were now sitting around a conference room in the Orion executive offices, reviewing what they knew so far.

  Zanders and his crew were planning to return to DC in the morning. He had kept in constant contact with his DC office, and had, for the most part, kept the NSA and his liaisons within the various military agencies up to speed. Electronic eavesdropping had been stepped up. The only thing that stood out was that it was uncharacteristically quiet in the Middle East. The only thing of import was the increased availability of heroin. The distribution seemed to have reached an all-time high, and the conversations there centered on an impending massive production and the need for better, more efficient shipping methods. The product was about to hit the markets within months. While this was all interesting for the DEA and Zanders’ FBI counterparts in drug enforcement, he was frustrated they weren’t any closer to finding answers to their immediate situation, the kidnapping of the two Orion Premier executives.

  They had visited each of the families again, including Kendall Radcliffe’s mother and neighbor. The neighbor, Heather Jacobs, promised to let them know if she received any communications regarding Kendall or Orion. She also agreed to check on Kendall’s unit every day and pick up her mail.

  The visit to Kendall’s mother, Kathleen Radcliffe, had not gone well. The mother was fragile and became very upset. The more they probed about Kendall’s background and whether she harbored any resentment against Orion or the executives, the more agitated the mother became. The thought that her daughter might be involved in something so heinous and criminal was too much for her to bear. Zanders and Mickey had driven together out to the mother’s place at Redondo. Shortly after arriving, Zanders was regretting his desire to meet the mother. She was such a nice and decent woman, and she seemed to shrink in size and stature right before their eyes. At first, she rushed around trying to serve coffee and cookies, but then abruptly sat down on the couch to catch her breath when the few known facts were presented to her. It was soon obvious that she knew nothing and would be of no help at all. They promised to keep her apprised of the situation and then quickly backed out of her front door and scurried to their car. As they pulled out of the driveway, Mrs. Radcliffe shut the door and promptly collapsed in a heap.

  The phone conversation with the boyfriend, Jeremy Levy, was bizarre. It turned out they had broken up a few days earlier, and Jeremy, while concerned, was not overly disturbed. He did think it was odd that she was missing, but he also said that she was independent and could easily take care of herself. As Zanders figured it, that could be taken several ways. The question was whether she was independent enough to have planned or been part of this kidnapping scheme. Since it had been several days now with no demands for money, none of the investigators knew what the objective was. That part drove them crazy, because they couldn’t then think a step ahead. Knowing who the bad guys were would have been of tremendous help, they thought.

  In any event, Levy seemed to backpedal on any committed association with Kendall … minimizing the relationship and chalking it up to nothing more than buddies and weekend sex. It was clear that Jeremy now wanted to distance himself from Kendall and whatever distasteful deed she had done. All he could think of was what his mother might say. On that thought, he was instantly relieved that he had broken up with Kendall. She was clearly not the woman he thought she was. His mother had been right all along. Zanders clued in on Levy’s type right away. Jeremy Levy was a cad and a jerk. He was obviously self-centered and incapable of loyalty. In fact, Zanders pegged him as a probable “momma�
�s boy.”

  Each conversation about Kendall brought more suspicion and intrigue. Her friend and co-worker, Gwen Albertson, appeared to be a staunch ally. She assured the men that Kendall would never be involved in the disappearance of Paul Fields and Glenn Carson; that Kendall was excited about her recent promotion and loved working for Orion Premier Net Services. She vouched for Kendall’s character and strenuously objected at the implication—no, the outright accusation—that Kendall would be capable of such a criminal act.

  She admitted that Kendall had been quiet and preoccupied on the day she agreed to travel to DC. Mickey and Agent Zanders knew that was probably due to the breakup with Jeremy Levy, but they kept that information to themselves. Obviously, Gwen did not know of the recent breakup. In their minds, she might not have been the good friend of Kendall’s that she thought she was.

  Gwen argued that Kendall had no clue she was going to DC that day. The trip was sudden and unplanned. The two men conceded that was indeed strange. Had Kendall’s presence been a mere coincidence? But that didn’t make sense either, because the executives rarely traveled together for security reasons, and they almost never had a junior executive in tow. It really defied logic that it would be Kendall, as her job did not overlap with theirs at all. It made more sense, however, once it was discovered they had all stayed at the same hotel in DC. But that’s where the similarity ended. Fields and Carson were testifying on the Hill while Kendall was meeting with Orion’s outside counsel and the FTC. The attorneys who accompanied Fields and Carson to the Hill were from a different law firm with a completely different specialty.

  Somehow, Kendall got on the Orion charter flight. But how did she do this? And where the hell were they now?

  Agent Zanders’ phone rang. He spoke for a few minutes, scribbled furiously on a notepad, and then hung up. He didn’t speak for a while, and the others around the table looked at him expectantly.

  Mickey couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well, who was it?”

  “That was my DC office. A $10,000 deposit was just made to Kendall’s checking account via wire transfer.”

  “A wire transfer from which bank?”

  “At first glance, it looks like a bank in New York, but traces to Paris, London, Switzerland, and Israel.”

  “Israel? What the hell?”

  There was stunned silence in the room. No one could even imagine where Israel fit into the unraveling mystery.

  Zanders mulled the revelation. “So, the payment originated in Israel, then went to Switzerland, London, Paris, and New York, where it was finally deposited into Kendall’s bank account.” He looked at Mickey. “Is Kendall Jewish? Does she have family there?”

  “No. I don’t believe so.”

  “Well, then, we need to get Israeli intelligence in the loop. I need to be in DC … now!”

  He instructed one of his DC junior agents to stay behind in Seattle and basically shadow Mickey. That agent was to learn all he could and pass anything new back to DC at once.

  The media had finally picked up the news of the disappearance of Fields and Carson. Nothing was said about Kendall Radcliffe’s involvement. Because no one knew anything, there wasn’t much to report. It was a simple article about the men having disappeared from DC on their way back to Seattle. It wasn’t clear how they disappeared or their manner of travel. Since the Orion people did not know the actual details, and there were no pilots around to verify the facts, there was only speculation. It was front page news, particularly since trading on the Orion stock had been halted.

  The market did not seem to be reacting in a dramatic way, so the board—having been somewhat apprised of the details—decided to resume trading of the stock the next day.

  Mrs. Radcliffe lay in the hospital bed and appeared quite frail and weak. The IV pole stood solidly next to her bed as if on sentry duty. A nurse came in and checked her vitals and adjusted the dials on the IV unit. She smoothed the older woman’s hair, sighed, and walked out to the nurses’ station. The night nurse, Katie, was about to go on duty and patiently awaited any updates.

  “So what’s the status of Mrs. Radcliffe? Has anyone been able to get a hold of the daughter?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Aren’t there any other relatives that can be notified?”

  “Not that we know of.”

  “I feel awful. That poor woman … in here all by herself. I can’t believe the daughter isn’t answering her phone.”

  “I hear ya, Katie. The daughter’s cell message says the phone is not in service … whatever the hell that means! I’m just glad Mrs. Radcliffe’s neighbor saw her lying there and called for an ambulance.”

  “What’s her status now?”

  “Her vitals are stable … no change … but she’s still comatose. She’s lucky to have survived the heart attack. I just hope we can locate her daughter in the next day.”

  The two women continued to discuss Kathleen Radcliffe’s medical condition. The requisite thrombolytics had been prescribed as soon as she reached the hospital, but it was clear she had lain on the floor awhile before she was discovered. Heparin would be continued for at least another twenty-four hours.

  Katie shook her head in puzzlement. “I don’t understand what happened to her. She shouldn’t be comatose. It’s almost as if she received a shock. She should be awake by now.”

  The other nurse nodded. “I agree. Just keep a close eye on her, and notify the doctor immediately when she wakes up. You might sit with her awhile or have one of the volunteers sit with her. I sat with her for thirty minutes this afternoon, and just held her hand. She seemed to calm down a little.”

  A few hours later, Kathleen Radcliffe opened her eyes. As her eyes adjusted to the surroundings, she realized that it was night and she was in the hospital. She had a slight headache from the bump on the head when she fell. But the stabbing pain in her heart and soul eclipsed any medical issues. “Oh, Kendall,” she whispered. “What have you done?” The violent turn of events had been too much for the elder Radcliffe.

  She knew she should call the nurse, but she didn’t want to bother the staff. She had heard them quietly moving around her during their gentle ministrations. She couldn’t bear the idea of talking to strangers about her daughter. She just wanted to block it out and make it go away. My lovely Kendall, she thought. What could have happened to her? There must be a logical explanation. Even if Kendall had not done anything wrong, the fact that she was missing was too frightening for Mrs. Radcliffe to comprehend. She closed her eyes and retreated back into that deep, wonderful, soft place between worlds where she didn’t have to deal with any harsh realities or perplexities. There was a light at the back of that dark, comfortable world. She thought about heading in that direction. Her body relaxed as she took a step forward on the secure and untroubled pathway that suddenly opened before her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KENDALL AND RASHID HAD SETTLED into a routine of spending most of the day together. After her meager breakfast, he picked her up, and they went to a rundown, abandoned military warehouse about five miles away. Two years earlier, it had been overrun with flood waters during a flash flood. The military decided it was too close to the nearby river and abandoned it. Rashid decided that retrofitting the warehouse would be the perfect solution.

  He brought in a handful of local day laborers and had the warehouse floor cleaned out in a couple of days. He had them build a crude workout facility using extra lumber from the military stock that he provided in small increments. No one at the base seemed to miss the few pieces of wood that disappeared every day. The day laborers never asked questions. It just looked to them like the military was trying to save money. Either way, they were being paid and weren’t about to ask questions.

  Rashid devised a series of daily workout routines for Kendall. He constructed homemade weights by filling plastic jugs with sand. Wood planks and plastic piping were used to construct an abs bench.

  His favorite creation was a soundproof i
ndoor shooting range. He had the men wall-off one section of the warehouse. The two lanes that were constructed ran the width of the warehouse in the back. Rashid again “borrowed” bags of cement from the military stash, and had his workers pour concrete blocks. He managed to secure some defective sheet rock that had been discarded and was awaiting pickup and delivery to the local refuse area.

  He researched the construction of a gun range and dutifully used a double thickness of sheet rock, being careful to have the first layer nailed vertically and the second horizontally. He did the best he could to plug any seams where excessive noise might escape. He fervently wished he had sound-deadening paint, but that was not possible in this part of the world. A crude ventilation system was jerry-rigged to provide the required negative air flow to trap any airborne contaminants. Finally, bags of combined sand and semi-soft cement were laid against the back wall of the firing lanes, from floor to ceiling, to deflect spent bullets.

  Rashid stood back and marveled at his resourcefulness. The workout facility was quite functional. He was anxious to have Kendall begin her training in earnest. Up to now, she had done a lot of walking and running, and improved her swimming skills in the nearby river. A few times she had used the president’s pool, but she was uncomfortable wearing the required full-length gauzy swim costume worn by Afghan women. He had her run up and down the nearby hills to strengthen her legs and increase her endurance. But it was time to step up the training.

  He had learned some unsettling things involving Kendall and the Orion executives, and he felt like a traitor not being honest with her. But he knew that if he told her, he would unquestionably face her wrath and lose all hope of a combined effort at ousting President Shazeb and his sons and securing the freedom of the Orion executives. Rashid was torn, but had a job to do. He had no choice but to keep these damning things secret from Kendall … for now.