Authors: Dominick Fencer,Baibin Nighthawk
76
"QRV? Digitrevenant69."
Pavel received a message at 9:00 in the morning.
"QRV, go ahead, I gave you up for lost," Mark replied. “Let's speak on the secure line. I'm alone and far from eavesdroppers."
A few seconds later, Pavel’s cell phone rang.
"Runaway75, British agent, 37-years old, a negotiator, an expert in hostage rescues, missions in Nigeria, Libya, Sudan, Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Officially, he’s the Commercial Director at BCG Corporation."
"An interesting guy, I’d say," replied Mark.
"Yeah, imagine what it's like to be involved with oil in those countries..."
"Do we have, let’s say, any common "friends"? Parallel missions?"
"Nothing, you don’t have any contacts in common. He’s an officially registered agent, and that's not your case. You belong to different divisions that don’t cooperate with each other ever. So don't worry, the fact that he’s there is a mere coincidence. He’s not on your trail."
"But they have brought him here. Why? Besides, why he’s not in one of the agency’s recovery centers? I’m very puzzled Pavel, he has suffered a tremendous shock that has given him Cotard’s syndrome, panic attacks and hypnagogic hallucinations; he survived waterboarding and he kept silent under torture. And yet they leave him here ..."
"Maybe he got burned for some reason…him too…"
"If you get burned, you have to escape; and if you don't run, they make you disappear. No, he hasn’t been burned; they know that his brain was "washed" and completely "clean". Actually, not completely. In fact, it depends on the skill of the therapist, who in my opinion hasn’t washed the "cache". I'm sure I can go farther with him and get more information; but I want to cure him, and I don't want to do any further harm to him. Besides I might need him, you never know."
"How long has he been in Dallas?" asked Digitrevenant69.
"For nearly three weeks."
"He arrived a week before you."
"In fact, that’s precisely the point, I don’t think it's by chance. First of all, he has attempted to stab people twice, so there are certainly pending criminal proceedings, and the agency cannot make him go away right now. Secondly, when he arrived here, I had just terminated my father’s murderer..."
"Andrew Davis?"
"That's what I think. He's here because he has to be treated in a civil structure and Marshall is a famous neurologist, but Davis, knowing of my situation led me to this place certainly for a reason. Pavel, ask yourself, how often two agents ever meet each other by chance in the same place? We'll find out. Who knows, maybe it is pure bloody coincidence."
"And Marshall?" Pavel urged.
"Marshall trusts Davis, and I don’t think that he’s aware of Cox’s real job. In my case I had to tell him about my previous job. He was looking for a psychiatrist and I was on the run, there was no time. In fact, he must have gone to bat for me, I’d bet on that, but even in this case we'll find out along the way. Right now I don’t have a clue.
“Any news about Anaïs Degann?” continued Mark. “She also works for Biosketch Technologies Inc.. I bumped into her a couple of days ago at the Dallas Air-Park. I took David Marshall flying and she made an incredible landing during a heavy hailstorm at the same airport. She had a male nurse and three patients in the aircraft. I'm sure she was going to New Mexico. I had to remain hidden for twenty minutes until she took off."
"Damn it, that's really strange, there are so many coincidences! Surely, as you said, she has been to see Aisha. I haven’t found anything about Anaïs, Miss Degann doesn’t actually exist, but..." Pavel paused to sneeze.
"But what?"
"The Colonel often visited Switzerland until two years ago…Geneva. Two years ago, Anaïs’ mother died, and since then he hasn’t visited Switzerland. The lady used to receive two calls a day from the USA, from an untraceable number, and Anaïs had already left home long before.
“I carried out a search of the images of Colonel Reed published in the media in the last fifteen years. He has been always a public figure and, well, a powerful man. Surprisingly, he appears on several occasions with the family, but often in the same picture the figure of a woman appears in background, Charlotte Leroy, mother of Anaïs Degann."
"She was probably his mistress, and the girl? Do you think she might be his daughter?" asked Mark, now he wasn’t surprised by anything.
"I doubt it,” replied Pavel, “even if it cannot be completely ruled out, Anaïs is never in any of the pictures, her parents divorced when she was three years old and just before that the child had received a blood transfusion following a car accident. She was in the car with her mother when another car ran the stop sign and crashed into their car.
“Her father was the donor,” continued Pavel. “They have the same blood type. So I checked Colonel Reed’s blood group, and it’s different. Anaïs can’t be his daughter.”
"I agree,” said Mark, “but he raised her for his use; and since she’s not on the list of CIA agents or on that of operatives, I wonder what her knowledge of the activities of Richard Reed is. Although I suspect the Colonel, taking into account his relationship with the mother, has avoided introducing them to each other and just put them in touch for his projects. Maybe that's why he didn’t want to classify her in the internal files of the CIA, and why she doesn’t exist for U.S. intelligence, even though she’s on the Clandestine Service payroll as a specialized skills agent."
"What will you do with Cox?"
"I want to get him out of trouble, but I’ll not tell him or David what we have discovered. If Davis is involved in the matter and wanted to inform Marshall about Cox’s true identity, he would have done so already."
"I agree with you, and now I must say goodbye. I took a day off to go walking in the mountains with Anna. I'll call you in a few days, my friend."
"You’re always ready for her. Sometimes I envy you, such deep feelings are unknown to me. Talk soon."
A few minutes later the phone in Mark's house rang. He was taking his time that morning; in fact, he only had to check on his patients later that morning.
"Mark, it’s David, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need your opinion and it’s quite urgent."
"I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, just the time it takes to get there from here," Mark said, pulling on his jacket.
77
When Mark knocked on the door to Marshall’s office, a voice greeted him with a relieved tone.
"You were quick, thank goodness! I’ll come straight to the point: do you remember the "Transtem 1.1” project?"
"Yes, of course,” answered Mark. “I remember the project, transplantation based on a new generation of tissue engineering, Biosketch Technologies Inc.. Why? What has happened?"
"We don’t know what's going on,” David replied with a concerned frown, “but the patients we have under follow-up seem to have changed behavior."
"What do you mean? All the patients?"
"It seems so… What about Brad Foster?"
"I didn’t notice anything abnormal. We should take all the medical records and analyze them in detail. Maybe it's just a temporary side effect."
"I would like you to supervise this situation. For the moment we haven’t informed Biosketch Technologies Inc. because I want to be sure that it’s not a false alarm, and up to now Foster hasn’t shown any behavioral change."
"Okay, you can count on me. Meanwhile, I'll go visit Foster, and then we can meet to evaluate the status of the situation. See you later."
Mark took his leave from Marshall in a thoughtful mode and went directly to Brad’s room.
Brad Foster stood at the window, looking at the garden below.
"Hello Brad, how are you?"
"Doc. Stearman…? I was expecting you later!" exclaimed Brad.
"I had to come now because of a surprise engagement later. How do you feel?"
"Definitely better. I sleep, I'm hungry, I feel comfortable and I no longer feel the need to vent by masturbating. Now I'm sure I can make it."
"I’m happy for you, but it is possible that you might still be affected by sexual impulses at times. It would be normal, so if it should happen sporadically, don't be afraid. The phenomenon will eventually disappear: the cure is very effective and we have begun to reduce your antidepressants. Keep me up to date. How do you see your naked body now? What do you think of it?"
"I’m not ashamed now. Yesterday I was looking at my penis in the mirror and didn’t find it embarrassing any more. You were right, it’s not small! It was just a fixation. Now I would like to try it with a girl in the flesh," Brad replied with a self-confident and calm tone.
"It gives me a great pleasure to hear that, Brad, but for the moment still no network, no web, no tablet. I'm sorry but I don’t want to jeopardize all the work we’ve done together so far," Mark replied firmly.
"Okay, even if I miss them, but only the contact with friends and the gaming. The rowing machine and exercise bike that you made available to me have helped me a lot! A great diversion and it’s keeping me in shape. I also read a lot. Please, can I have visitors? Jennifer phoned me in the ward, and she’d like to come and see me."
"Who is Jennifer?" asked Mark.
"One of my school mates… red hair, very pretty and she’s fun."
"It isn't that you want to make it with her, is it?"
Brad gave Mark a grin.
"Brad, you have to be cautious, you risk failure and that would be detrimental to your recovery and you might even scare her. No way, it's too soon. You may invite her in a week if you want, so you can be sure that the situation is under control."
"Ok, Doc. I'll tell her, but in a week I'll try..."
"Brad, I hope so. Remember you’re in a hospital and not in a hotel room, so no sex. Now I’ll check your blood pressure and then we’ll do some additional tests."
After about an hour and a half Mark was back in Marshall’s office.
"David, Brad’s condition is getting better every day. He’s very relaxed, so we’ve reduced the dosage of his antidepressant therapy. I found nothing unusual; indeed, if he goes on like this, it may turn out that we’ll be able to discharge him earlier than expected! And therefore not all the patients have quirks, David. Today’s analysis shows that all is normal," said Mark. "I’d ask you the favor of keeping this between us: please check to see if my team has made any mistakes without being obvious and let me know. You have access to all the medical records, you should have no problems with this."
"Of course, this thing intrigues me, too. I'll call you as soon as I have finished analyzing the situation."
78
Anaïs had arrived in Langley at noon in torrential rain and, given that she had to see to some bureaucratic formalities, and she didn’t want to get wet for the second time, she called Samuel Q. Jenkins and asked him to arrange for the meeting in the CIA cafeteria instead of the bar suggested by Green.
She didn’t like the bar anyway, it was far away and had been awfully renovated with lime green walls and neon lights that made it all terribly cold and made one’s skin complexion veer towards green, giving the effect of seasickness. Anaïs hated the place even if Jago C. Green liked it a lot. According to him, it was the ideal place for those meetings that required a certain type of privacy, and he was really fond of the old pinball machine and jukebox that still worked.
Skylinep92 had never met Jenkins, so she’d told him to meet her at the counter of the cafe next to the candy displays, telling him that she would be wearing a burgundy neck scarf.
"Hi, I'm Samuel Q. Jenkins," said a voice behind her. "Good morning, Anaïs Degann,"
"I see that for the moment there is not a free table,” said Skylinep92, shaking his hand. “What can I get you?"
"A cup of coffee, thanks. It doesn’t matter, let's stay here, and we can move later if a table becomes available. Green told me that you wanted to ask me some questions about Mark Savannah."
"Yes, in fact,” smiled Skylinep92. “I made the appointment because of this. I’d like you to tell me everything you know about Savannah. I'm conducting an investigation for Colonel Reed and although he’s only a fleeting bit player, I’d like to know more so that I don’t miss anything that might be relevant to the investigation."
"Where do you want me to begin?” asked Jenkins. “I guess you’ve already obtained the file on the guy, since he got burned after the crime he committed. Among other things, his motive is still unclear and the investigators are now at a dead end. They believe that Savannah was corrupt and involved in drug trafficking, and that Reed somehow discovered his activities."
"Yes, I read the dossier,” Skylinep92 said dryly. “How did you become familiar with Savannah? What was your impression of him?"
"I met him during a joint operation with the British secret service in France a few months ago, he was in command of the operation. He’s a particular kind of guy, hot-tempered and self-centered, rather unpleasant, but extremely knowledgeable and reckless. He’s a cool and merciless eliminator, not one of the targets survived and everything was done in less than ten minutes, including the final clean-up operation."
"Have you ever talked to him?" asked Skylinep92.
"No, never, except when we were in the cafeteria and Reed arrived. I just took orders from Savannah. I never spent any time with him."
Jenkins, while lying, shifted in his chair and Anaïs sensed his discomfort, but she gave nothing away.
"So you don’t have any clue where he might be now? Have you ever overheard any conversations of his that might help me in my search?"
"Savannah’s a silent type, a psychiatrist, a manipulator. I only heard him talk business and, when he drank his coffee, he did it alone, never with someone else. I have no idea where he might be now. I repeat…he never spoke."
"Tell me about what happened here in the cafeteria between him and Richard Reed, please," said Skylinep92.
"Savannah and I were at that table," replied Jenkins pointing across the cafeteria with his finger. "Reed saw Savannah. They said ‘Hello’ to each other and afterwards Richard came over to chat at our table; clearly Reed and the Englishman knew each other."
"And then?"
"They began to argue,” continued Jenkins, “Savannah began to accuse Reed of supporting drug traffickers, and Reed replied that he had seen him on the Pakistani border negotiating the passage of a heavy vehicle, a vehicle that was certainly carrying a load of opium. Did you read my statement?"
"Yes, of course, I read it. But what exactly was Savannah doing in Pakistan?" asked Skylinep92.
"He was sent by the British service to carry out an anti-terrorist operation, but for obvious reasons they haven’t disclosed any other information. It’s certain he was seen at the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan, negotiating with the guards. The investigators are still investigating whether he double-crossed the intelligence service or was working for a corrupt intelligence unit.
“In fact, in order to work in that country and negotiate with the locals a foreign agent must have weight and a means of exchange which in these cases normally means drugs, which are then used to finance guerilla warfare operations.
“It’s an old story, he’s not a particularly intelligent guy. First, he gets caught with his fingers in the cookie jar, and then he cold-bloodedly kills the son of the CIA’s number three, a man elected by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime to lead the fight in Afghanistan against drug production. A remarkable idiot!"
Suddenly a man's voice broke forcefully into the conversation.
"Inshallah, the reactions of a man are derived from previous actions, no witnesses must remain hidden! Forgive the intrusion, but I heard your conversation and I feel bound to intervene."
The man, an Arab with rough, sun-hardened skin, had had his back turned to Anaïs for the entire time they had been chatting. Samuel Q. Jenkins awkwardly put a hand over his eyes, and for the second time Skylinep92 observed his uneasy reaction.
Jenkins had made sure that no officer who had worked with Savannah would be in the H.Q. that day. Was it possible that he had missed someone?
"Please, you might be very useful, I wasn’t expecting to be this lucky," Anaïs said in amazement. "My name is Anaïs Degann, I'm a U.S. Agent." She extended her hand to the Arab, who, with a gallant bow, and without saying his name, just touched it with his lips, leaving her even more surprised.
Jenkins had fallen silent, hoping that the situation would dissolve like a soap bubble. He hadn’t introduced himself to the stranger, and this was also noted by Anaïs.
The stranger continued talking in spite of the awkward atmosphere.
"I’m a Special Agent and I spent every day of the mission in Afghanistan with Savannah. I'm sorry to contradict your impression, sir. I too have heard of Savannah, but who hasn’t heard of him in our business after the brilliant outcome of the anti-terrorist operation? The worldwide press has spoken of the operation!
“I was with him the whole time he spent in Afghanistan and I didn’t notice anything. Of course, we crossed the border, but what drugs? There was no load of drugs traveling with us.
“As for Savannah, I only can describe him as a champion, well-prepared and of uncommon intelligence. I hope this may help you in some way, Madam. Like you, I don’t understand his actions, but often things are different to how they seem. Excuse me again and have a good day, Allāhu Akbar!"
The man nodded to Anaïs and immediately disappeared from the room. Jenkins realized too late that the Arab had not only avoided revealing his name, but above all had always been out of sight of the cameras: another man that didn’t exist to report to Colonel Reed.
"I don't trust that chap at all, besides his interrupting our discussion like that without even introducing himself," said Anaïs watching for Jenkins’ reaction.
"I totally agree with you,” he said, “probably he just wanted to get to know you and stuck his nose in things he doesn't know," replied Jenkins, obviously relieved.
"Is there anything else that comes to your mind about Savannah or should we say goodbye?" asked Skylinep92.
"I'd like to talk to you much longer, but unfortunately I have nothing to add about Mark Savannah; and in a quarter of an hour I have a meeting in my division offices. See you soon, Anaïs. It's really been a pleasure meeting you."
"Thank you for everything, Jenkins. Have a good evening! I'll go back to Biosketch Technologies Inc. directly. If you happen to remember any new details about Savannah, please call me."
"Of course I will. Have a good trip."
Jenkins followed the special agent with his eyes until he saw her go up in the elevator, then, certain of not being seen, he also left the building.
"Colonel, this is Samuel. Good morning, I have just finished talking to the girl. There was an Arab who said he’d been in Afghanistan with Savannah. Of course I had checked to make sure that there were no agents in Langley who had worked with him. No, he didn’t introduce himself and he practically said nothing, and anyway, Anaïs didn’t pay much attention to him. You must have checked yourself...so I suppose you were also unaware of any Arab-American agent in Afghanistan? Ah, well! I told Anaïs that he probably wanted to impress her. Thank you. See you soon, sir."