Authors: Steve Richer
Hertz hadn’t completely fallen off the
grid again although he had shaken off Jemiolo, insisting on going forward solo.
He just didn’t need another dressing down from his superior, another reason for
her to hate him and throw sand in his gears. He therefore checked in as
scheduled, his only compromise.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that
his leash would be yanked back, but it was. That’s what happened when CIA
officers were more interested in office politics than they were in actually
doing the job.
He was unable to go to an embassy or
consulate so instead he was ordered to use his laptop to establish a secure
connection for a video chat with Langley.
He needed this like he needed a third
nipple.
“Please hold,” a comms tech said in a
singsong voice.
Hertz rearranged himself sideways on his
seat. He was in his car, a rented Mitsubishi that smelled of suntan oil and
grain alcohol. It was hotter than the surface of the sun but he was determined
to leave the windows up, anything to preserve some privacy.
There was movement on the screen as Sarah
Utley took a seat in front of the camera.
“I suppose you want to be congratulated
for not making you head to an embassy right now, Timothy?”
“Actually, I just want to be left alone
and do my job.”
“Your definition and my definition of what
your mission is it’s, well, on shaky ground. Or did you finally decide to be a
team player?”
Hertz gave her a fake smile. “I’ve always
been a team player, it’s just that the game changes sometimes.”
“Give me a sitrep.”
“I’ve tracked Travis down. He flew from
Amsterdam to Cairo and from there I was able to analyze private flights. I have
a buddy working as a contractor, his company is handling a lot of the airport
security in the region. This way I was able to pinpoint the kid’s whereabouts.
He’s in Zambia.”
For a fraction of a second, Utley’s face
showed emotion. It was a mixture of relief and joy, Hertz had never seen
anything like it from her before.
“Do you have reason to believe Travis
made contact with Greenwood?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good, good.”
“More than that, I can go ahead with
Operation Blackthorne.”
“Like hell you can,” the woman spat. “This
is off the table, Hertz.”
“I’m the one in the field, Sarah. I have
operational control. I can make this work.”
“Even if you can, it’s not an option
anymore.”
“Listen to me, I’m within striking
distance.”
Hertz lifted binoculars to his eyes and
looked out the window. He had a great vantage point on the village 500 yards
away. More importantly, he saw Rick Travis standing idly next to a small house.
Beside him was an older man. A white man.
“I can make it work,” he said again.
“I have my orders and so you have
your
orders, Hertz. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to give me coordinates.
We have UAVs based out of the Seychelles, I can have some drones over your
position within a matter of hours.”
“No.”
“No? This isn’t your decision to make,
you son of a bitch. Give me your position and I’ll have a Reaper over there
ASAP. Don’t you understand? This is our most important manhunt, I have the
President breathing down my neck begging for results.”
“Sarah, you know damn well this is
shortsighted.”
“It’s above your pay grade, I’m afraid. I
have my orders and you have yours. Give me the coordinates now and my Reaper
can end this god-awful mess with a couple of Hellfire missiles. Hertz, come on…”
“I’m going ahead with Operation Blackthorne,
Sarah.”
He cut off the connection and closed the
laptop. Then he removed the batteries from his devices so they wouldn’t know where
he was exactly.
He could do this.
~ ~ ~ ~
Rick was pacing outside the house while
Greenwood chatted with Chamba who was noticeably dazed. Rick was desperate to
run away – as if he could, he was in the middle of nowhere. But the smart play
at the moment was to stay here, to continue with this song and dance.
But holy fuck
, how could Olivia be dead?!
Greenwood had seen right through her and
had dealt with the situation without mercy. She’d been a highly trained spy, so
in what possible universe could Rick survive when she couldn’t?
Greenwood finished up with Chamba and
went to Rick. He led him to a quiet area near the school and they sat on the
ground.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m still shocked,” the young man said.
“I don’t blame you, it’s a lot to accept,
your lover turning out to be someone you can’t trust. I don’t blame you at all.”
“Yeah, I feel so stupid.”
Greenwood smiled graciously and patted
him on the back.
“I’ll help you, Rick. I’ll look at your
data and I’ll help you plan your operation. I’ll even take part personally if I
see the need for it.”
“That’s great, thanks.”
“But first I need you to do something for
me.”
Rick looked up sharply at that. Could he
really make a deal with the devil?
“Sure, name it.”
“I need you to go to South Africa for me.”
“South Africa? Okay.”
“There’s something I bought but you need
to go get it for me. It cost me a few paychecks so you’ll have to be careful.
That’s why I don’t trust regular mail.”
“It’s just fetching something for you?”
Rick asked, knowing there was an angle somewhere.
“That’s it, it’s nothing dangerous.”
“All right, no problem. I can do it.”
“Good,” Greenwood said. “I appreciate it.
And when you’re there I need you to mail this.”
He handed him a letter. Rick inspected it
and couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing inside but a
sheet of paper, it seemed.
“Sure. Just mail it anywhere once I’m in
South Africa?”
“That’s it. It’s all I ask.”
Rick nodded. “Okay, you got it.”
Greenwood smiled broadly and got up.
“Excellent! All right, go take a piss,
and get ready to drive off. You’re leaving your bags here, it’s only a short
round-trip. You leave in five minutes.”
As he stood up, Rick couldn’t help
thinking he had unknowingly screwed himself over.
After climbing up into the Jeep, Rick was
blindfolded and driven back to the airport. Even though he couldn’t see
anything – and he didn’t dare sneak a peek – he heard Sagan argue, cajole, and
bribe people before they could reach the plane.
From the smell of it, it was the same
Beechcraft which had been used to fly him here. He was strapped in and Sagan
sat nearby. Again, he had to keep the blindfold on until they were in the air.
“How long’s the ride to South Africa?”
“You’re not going to South Africa
directly,” Sagan said. “We’re flying you to Dar es Salaam. There you’ll buy a
round-trip ticket to Johannesburg and come back tomorrow. You have a reservation
at The Westcliff, it’s already paid for. You’ll be contacted there with your
instructions. And don’t forget to mail the letter.”
“What’s the letter about anyway?”
“None of your business.”
“A lot of that going around lately,” Rick
said.
“And don’t try to do anything crazy. We
have eyes and ears everywhere.”
Rick didn’t doubt that for a minute.
The trip to Dar es Salaam took two hours
and it was only when he got there that he learned where it actually was:
Tanzania. Before landing, he saw that it was a huge city with a modern skyline.
He didn’t get to see much more of it.
Once at Julius Nyerere International Airport, Sagan kept a watchful eye on him
until he boarded his flight to South Africa which left a few hours later.
Most of all, there was no opportunity for
Rick to call Hertz and put an end to his mission.
Before leaving, Sagan had given him a wad
of cash and his passport, nothing else. Having no credit card was definitely a
hindrance since he didn’t have enough money to buy a ticket out of Africa. He
thought about going to the American Embassy but the OWL would have him under
surveillance.
He had to follow through with this and
hope that afterwards he could help nab Greenwood in time.
The plane he was on was ancient but didn’t
quite have the words
Banana Air
stamped on it. At least the ride wasn’t
bumpy. He settled into his sticky seat and sipped a beer, a brand he’d never
heard of.
An hour into the flight, he headed to the
restroom and noticed something he didn’t know still existed: an air phone. He went
to it and saw that it required a credit card.
Wonderful.
All he had was cash. But he had an idea.
He walked down the aisle, scanning the
passengers and getting odd looks in return. Toward the front he stopped beside
a white woman in her 40s. She was dressed well enough to make him think she
wasn’t a peasant.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Do you speak English?”
“Yes, I do.” Her accent was South
African.
“Great. Listen, this is going to sound
weird but do you have a credit card I can borrow?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah, totally weird, as I said. I need
to use the phone over there and it only accepts credit cards. Only some
pickpocket ran away with my wallet just before boarding.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes
searching for a flight attendant.
Rick noticed she had a small crucifix
about her neck. “I’m simply trying to find my church group, we were separated
on our last flight. I do have some cash, I could pay you, it won’t cost you
anything. I’m just so worried about my missionary group and those poor orphans.”
To show that he was sincere, Rick pulled
out his roll of money. She hesitated and then took pity on him, standing up.
“All right.”
“Thank you so much, ma’am. God bless you!”
She followed him to where the restrooms
were located and inserted her credit card for him. He peeled off three 20s of
South African rands. He wasn’t sure exactly how much his call would be but she
took the money graciously.
“Thanks again, ma’am,” he told her as she
left.
Now came the big question: who was he
going to call? He didn’t know any of Olivia’s people and he didn’t know Hertz’s
number by heart. He could always try to call the CIA but there’s no way he’d
get through to anyone.
So he called the one person he trusted.
“Hi, Uncle Pete,” Rick said softly after
the phone was answered.
There was a gasp on the other end. “Rick,
where the hell are you? Are you all right?”
The young man nodded to no one and
disappeared into one of the bathroom stalls, requiring all the privacy he could
get.
“Man, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Where are you, Rick? It’s going to shit
over here, everybody is frantic. The OWL is planning another attack, there’s
been a video. Have you seen it? Do you know anything about it?”
Another attack?
Rick slumped against the sink. “I think I’m
out of my league.”
“Did you get to Greenwood? Is that where
you are now?”
Rick barely heard the question. “People
are dead, Uncle Pete. I got them killed. I got a British agent killed.”
“Jesus, Rick. Why don’t just come home,
uh? Just come home and it’s all over.”
“No, I’ve come too far to just drop it. I
got Greenwood where I want him. I’ll be back in a few days, I think.”
“Tell me about it, son. Tell me where you
are and I can have agents get you out. These are dangerous people, it’s not
time to be careless.”
Rick had made this phone call because
after losing Olivia he wanted to hear from someone familiar, somebody he
trusted. But it was his uncle’s voice that made him realize it had been a
mistake to contact anyone. He would only put him in danger.
Sagan had said that they had people
everywhere and he believed him. He couldn’t take a chance and endanger his
family. He didn’t trust Hertz either, not now. Rick had to do this favor for
Greenwood, be allowed to walk out, and then he could call in the troops.
But not now.
“I can handle this, Uncle Pete. I got
this.”
“You sure?” his uncle said after a beat.
“Yeah. By this time next week I’ll be a
millionaire.”
“You be careful, okay? This’ll surely get
you in the Academy.”
He cracked a wan smile. It’s was so
futile, it wasn’t about money anymore or getting into the FBI or social
acceptance. Rick felt like a child who had suddenly grown up after encountering
a world which until now he hadn’t even been able to fathom.
“I don’t give a shit about that anymore.
They’d beg me and I’d say no. The Bureau is Boy Scout stuff compared to this.”
“Come back in one piece, it’s all I’m
asking. We’ll talk about it when you get back.”
If he ever got back. He wasn’t even sure
if he would anymore.
“All right. Bye, Uncle Pete.”
He hit the End button and sat on the
toilet. Grabbing his head with both hands, he began to sob.