The Missile Game (The Dr. Scott James Thriller Series Book 1) (14 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Keyes’ Apartment

10:00 pm

SURPRISINGLY, I FELT NO guilt about killing the two men. They had come to kill me, and I did what I had to do in order to survive. The strenuous workout of loading the pair of 200-pound bodies in the trunk of the car, and then jogging all the way back to the apartment, actually raised my spirits.

It certainly stopped my hands from shaking.

I had only one regret: that the men had nothing on them that linked them to whoever was behind all this. Now, after taking a hot shower and drinking some coffee, my mind was clear and my motivation strong to figure out who was trying to kill me and why.

I began making a list of the events that had happened in the last two days, when Keyes, at last, came through the door. She walked in, stopped, looked at me, then walked over to the table where I was writing my list and picked up the pistol I’d taken off my would-be killer.

She raised the barrel of the pistol and held it two feet from my head. My eyes followed the pistol up Keyes’ arm and into her face. Her stare was fixed on me, and the muscles in her jaw stood out. “Who gave you this gun?” she demanded.

“It’s mine. I had it in my office. Please don’t point that at me.”

She kept the pistol aimed at my head. “I never figured you’d own a pistol like this.”

“Why?”

“It’s a custom-made, Browning BMD, 9 by 19 mm. It had to cost ten grand. This has a fifteen-shot clip, and it was made in 1998, when it took a dealer’s license to buy it. Until 2004, only the ten-in-a-clip models were sold to the public. You didn’t buy this gun. So, now, you want to tell me how you really got this?”

“Considering the line of work your presently in, I’m not shocked you know that.”

According to what she just said, the gunman in my office shot at me thirteen times. Thank God there were fifteen bullets in the clip. The last two shells had taken the second killer’s life and saved mine. Avoiding her question, I said, “Someone in my office tried to kill me with it this evening at about seven. He failed. I got the gun. Satisfied?”

“Who tried to kill you?”

“What difference does it make?” I said.

I had been told by Harris to play it cool, but I couldn’t help it any more. I turned the heat up on her. I had to have the truth. “I’m not so sure about your CIA story.” I paused. “And why don’t you tell me about your connection with Waters?”

To my surprise, instead of pressing me for an answer to her question, she answered mine. “He and I were friends—or rather, acquaintances—for two months. That’s all.”

She turned from me, threw the pistol on the couch, and walked to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I looked at the gun with more respect than I previously had.

From down the hall, I heard Keyes begin to cry. I went to her room. The door wasn’t closed and I didn’t knock. She was lying face-down on her bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

“You okay, Elizabeth?” I said as I sat down on the bed and laid my hand on her shoulder.

She turned over and looked at me through her tears. “That’s one of Farok’s guns! Omar Farok, the ISIS commander! The bullets in that gun were meant for me. I’m the one they were after. My deadline is over, and it’s only a matter of time before I’m dead!”

“Then, you’re Celena?”

“Yes. I lied to you.” She burst into tears and held me tightly. “I’m not working for the CIA. I work for Omar Farok. Farok is now ISIS. He’s the one planning the attack. I met him when I worked as a courier in the Middle East. He was the pilot who flew me back and forth between Damascus, Yemen, Kandahar, and Syria. I was paid by Al Qaeda. I even went through two months of military training with them. But I was only a courier, never a soldier. But you have to believe me. I don’t want anybody to die. I’m just doing this one thing, and then I’m going to hide in South America.”

“You can’t just give them information that could cause the deaths of thousands and then just run away.”

“I have no choice! They’re going to kill me if I don’t help them. I have a contract on my head!”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Well, you can believe this: The assassin that came to your office for me, wasn’t going to shoot me there. He was going to take me to Omar.”

“What does Farok want with you?”

“He likes to watch his bodyguards rape and torture women. They cut a woman to pieces before she dies. They killed my best friend like that last year. And I’ve heard of others. It’s horrible the way they’re killed, and I know Omar plans to do that to me. I’m so scared of dying that way. That’s why I’ve done everything he’s told me to do. I’ve tried to escape several times, but you cannot escape from Omar.”

She cried as I held her close to me. “What about Waters and the missiles?” I asked.

“Waters is Alpha Charlie.”

“I had a feeling, but still—”

“It’s true. He’s a highly paid hit man. Omar and his group are going to send Silkworm missiles to destroy his control station when I find it, and I think it’s somewhere around the hospital. If I don’t find it soon, they’ll probably kill me and just bomb the whole town.”

“That makes a lot of sense. We use to play video games for days. I’ll bet Waters is good with drones. But do you really think the drone controls are in the
hospital
?”

“Yes … No … I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe we were wrong. If I tell them the controls are in the hospital and they’re not, they’ll be even harder on me.”

“How can you do this? By not going to U.S. authorities, a lot of people will be killed.”

“I don’t know! I don’t want to hurt innocent people, you have to believe me!” she cried. “But if I find the drone control center and report Waters’ whereabouts to them, I’ll be free! If I don’t, they’ll be after me for the rest of my life or until they catch me and torture me to death!”

I pulled her into my arms and held her. As we rocked together, I whispered into her ear, “We’ll find Alpha Charlie and make things right. And somehow, we’ll stop them from firing their missiles. I promise.”

“That’s why I couldn’t tell you this earlier. They’ll kill you, too, just the way they’ll kill me. It’s so horrible, you can’t imagine. It’s not like they’re directed by ISIS; Farok’s men are Congolese and do things like ancient tribesmen did centuries ago. They are known to slice off pieces of victims and eat them while the victim watches. Can you understand why I’m so afraid?”

I sat on the bed and held her tightly. I understood her fear of Farok and her need to save herself. “You kept me from killing myself. Now, it’s my turn to save you.”

Exhausted, we slept fitfully through the night.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Keyes’ Apartment

7:41 am

AS WE LAY IN her bed together, Keyes’ computer suddenly emitted a short musical alarm. She jumped out of bed and began reading a message on the screen. She turned to me and spoke fast. “To prove to you that I’m telling the truth, read this.”

DRONES ARE ACTIVE. PAST HISTORY SAYS HE WILL KILL IN THE NEXT EIGHTEEN HOURS. ACCELERAT
E YOUR SEARCH. THIS IS YOUR ONE LAST CHANCE OR YOU WILL BE ELIMINATED.

“Is this from Farok?”

“Yes.”

“Is he the one who gave you the watch?”

She nodded her head and wiped her eyes. “It was his money that paid your bail.

“You paid my bail? … Using that pig’s filthy money?” She dropped her head and just nodded. “The house in Chapel Hill was yours and Simpkins’, right?

“That was to be my safe house. But the Pakistanis came and set up operations there. Simpkins never actually stayed at the place. Then, Farok rented a farm in Ellsburg for me to set up my computer stuff. I went to the Emmaus Church house once—to instruct Simpkins on where to plant his mics and take photographs. Farok hired him to help me find drone control.”

“Did you ever meet Hormand?”

“Why do you ask?”

“When I was looking through your things, I saw a photograph of an old, balding man in Arabic dress.”

She laughed and looked away from me. “Yes. That was Hormand, but I saw him only once, at a party with Omar.”

“So how did Waters get involved in all this?”

“Omar learned that Waters was the main drone operator in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and he paid me to get to know more about him. I told you that Waters and I were acquaintances. That was a half-truth. In actuality, as part of my mission for Omar, I dated him a few times. I convinced Waters to get me the job in your office so I could be close to him. He thought it was to date him more, but in reality, it was really just so I could keep an eye on him and locate his drone operation. Since I’ve been here, I’ve tried to call him and see him, but he won’t even talk to me.”

Keyes got up and went to her computer. I sat at her side as she sent an email message to Quasart: “The entire complex explored. No clues found as to location of Charlie or his commend center. I need sonograms of the land around the hospital. Maybe site is underground.”

I looked her in the eyes. “We’ll locate Waters’ drone control to leverage your release from ISIS. Farok has given you a reprieve of a few hours. That may be just enough.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

The Penthouse

9:05 am

WATERS CALLED SHIRLEY MOSS into his office. As she walked in, he stood and frowned. “I can’t locate Detective Harris,” he said calmly. “G
et him on the line for me.”

After ten minutes on the phone, she still didn’t have Harris.

Waters screamed, “When I tell you to do something, I expect promptness!” Waters’ personal security, the gigantic Michael Jefferson, towered nearby, stone-faced.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Waters, but he’s not answering either of his numbers, and no one seems to know where he is.”

“Then get his buddy Scott James on the line for me. They have something going on. Harris let him out of jail when I told him to keep him locked up. Call Elizabeth Keyes. She’ll know where he is.”

James answered after eight rings.

Waters yanked the receiver out of Shirley Moss’ hand and said, in a quiet tone, “Hello, Elizabeth. I need to locate Dr. James.”

“Well, so nice to hear from you, Herb.”

The veins in Waters’ neck and face swelled, and his face became fiery red. “So, you and Keyes are shacking up together. You have her out spying on me, don’t you?”

“Herb, you had a chance to have her, but like everything else, you blew it.”

“If you fuck with me again, Scott, you’ll be sorry. I need to speak to your pal, Pete Harris.”

“He’s tied up at the moment. Do you wish to leave him a message?”

“When you see Harris, tell him to call me! Right away!” He slammed down the receiver and stood at his secretary’s desk.

Shirley looked down at her computer before gritting her teeth and standing. “I always liked Dr. James. What do you have against him?”

Waters suddenly grabbed a half-f cup of lukewarm coffee and threw it at her, striking her chest and splattering lukewarm coffee all over her and her desk. She started to cry and looked away.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Look at me when I talk to you!”

Coffee dripped from her face as she looked into his dark eyes.

“If you ever betray me like Harris and James have, you’ll be out of a job and I’ll see to it you never work anywhere in this country again for the rest of your life. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Waters returned to his office and kicked the door closed.

Shirley went to the bathroom, washed coffee from her face and tried to remove the coffee stains from her white blouse. She came back to her desk. Her phone rang, but she ignored it. She picked up the coffee-soaked letters she’d typed that morning and threw them in the trash. She started to leave, but turned and went back and opened Waters’ door.

Waters looked up. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. And I won’t be coming back. Ever!”

She slammed the door as she left.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

The Penthouse

Noon

HERB WATERS WAS IN a rage. Controllin
g his vast empire put an unfair strain on him, he felt. He needed rest. And sex. He turned on the Skype program, and Elayna appeared nude on the screen.

Elayna performed and then gave Waters a few moments to collect himself, then turned to the screen. “When can I expect you?”

“I have three weeks of work to do. After that, you’ll be at the top of my list.”

“Make us lots of money, sweetheart. I need some things from Cartier.”

Jackson City Hospital

12:31 pm

Waters left the suite and entered the Penthouse’s private elevator. He pressed the Express Sub-Basement button, and felt the swift drop. After just a brief moment, the elevator’s doors rolled open to reveal the Sub-Basement, a long, dimly-lit tunnel that led away from the hospital. Waters walked swiftly down the narrow corridor, illuminated only briefly by piercing white bulbs. For a brief moment, no one on earth knew where Alpha Charlie was.

Keyes’ Apartment

12:33 pm

I had to relay all the new information to Harris. Keyes went to take a shower, and I used the opportunity to slip outside to the stairwell.

I dialed Harris’ number. The dispatcher said Harris was “on assignment” and not in his office. The detective’s mobile phone was off, too, the dispatcher said.

Oh, God. What should I do? What
can
I do?

“But this is extremely important!”

“Yes, we know you think your case is important, Dr. James. I’ll tell Detective Harris as soon as he reports in.”

A knot formed in my stomach as I sat there feeling helpless, wild thoughts swirling through my mind. I turned off the phone and stood for moment.

Elizabeth Keyes almost pulled the doorknob off the front door of her apartment, swinging it open suddenly and shouting, “Waters is on the move!” Her hair was wet and she was wearing wrinkled clothes that she’d just thrown on. She turned and yelled over her shoulder, “Get your shit together! And bring your Browning pistol and the ten clips!”

My head spinning, I ran to the guest room and threw my stuff and the gun into a small duffel bag.

I ran to Keyes’ bedroom. She zipped her suitcase and threw her laptop into a briefcase. I followed close behind as she ran out of the apartment, down the steps, and to her car. She reached into the trunk and grabbed a blue gym bag and put it in the back seat. We jumped in, and she gunned it.

We’d gone only a block when Keyes spotted a black Lincoln Continental. “Duck!” she shouted, as we passed the black car. The Continental pulled onto the street directly behind us. Keyes whipped the Honda onto a side street. She grabbed her cell phone and punched in a number. “Help me,” she said into the phone. “Someone’s following. Meet me at the parking garage.”

Keyes drove fast, dodging through back streets to get to the parking garage beside the Hancock Building. The Continental followed our every turn. “We’ve definitely got a tail,” I said. “I think that may be Waters’ man. I don’t think it’s Farok’s hit men.”

“Someone was following me yesterday. Probably with the government.”

“Jesus!” I said. “The
government
?”

“Just shut the fuck up and duck your head between your legs.” She drove to the ground floor of the parking garage and stopped, leaving the motor running. A tall, buxom, black-haired woman ran from the shadows and jumped into the driver’s side. Keyes said, “Good luck, Anna,” then reached behind and grabbed the gym bag and jumped out of the Honda. She ran behind a nearby car, crouched, then turned and yelled, “Get out, Scott!”

Before jumping out of the car, I looked at the new driver. It was the same woman who had delivered the large cardboard cylinder to Keyes the night before I’d made the calls to Texas. So this was the mysterious Anna Duke.

I ran over to the parked cars and hunched down beside Keyes.

Duke floored it, and just as she roared out the far side of the parking garage, the Continental appeared at the other end and accelerated after her.

Keyes and I quickly and cautiously walked to the second floor. I followed her to a black Toyota Corolla. She knelt down and removed a key from under the car. “Get in,” she said.