Black Hawk Day Rewind: An action packed spy thriller (Mark Savannah Espionage Series Book 1) (13 page)

51

SkylineP92 awoke at dawn, still suffering but surprised to be alive and to have some sort of bandage on her eye.

She looked around and immediately realized that the knots had been left purposely loose and she effortlessly rid herself of them.

She went out of the garage, closed it, and left the keys in Aisha’s mailbox. Then, exhausted, she called Green on the phone.

"Jago, I'm really in bad shape. I have a black eye and probably some cracked ribs. I’ve lost a lot of blood from my nose and I have a sharp pain in the spleen...Savannah didn’t want to kill me. He's gone, I don’t know where he went. I was unconscious...I need a doctor...come and rescue me, please."

"We’ll be there in ten minutes,” replied Jago, keeping his voice steady. “A van will pick you up, and take you to the helicopter. Hold on, Anaïs! We’ll get you here, and then I'll soon get you back in shape. I’m going to inform the Colonel."

Ten minutes later an anonymous van picked up SkylineP92, who was lying on the ground in a parking lot next to the garage. They gave her first aid on the way to the heliport, then they carried her on board.

When Anaïs woke up, she found herself in a bed at the Biosketch Technologies Inc. Medical Center. Colonel Reed and Jago C. Green were next to her bed.

"Welcome back SkylineP92,” said Reed. “You have two broken ribs, and they’ve done a little embroidery on your eyebrow, but you have no internal injuries and your spleen is in good shape. You were lucky that he didn’t kill you."

"Hello, Colonel. You were right…Savannah reminds me of the Terminator," replied Anaïs in a faint voice.

"Get some rest now. In a week you'll be back in shape and you'll start hunting again," smiled Jago.

"Jago, please, prepare a complete file on Savannah dating back to the "Uday, who runs fast" mission, I have to start all over again."

"Stay calm, you’ll find the documents in your mailbox within four days. Goodbye, you're beautiful despite that purple eye...what can I say...You almost look better."

"Fuck you, Green!"

"Can you hear her?” laughed Jago. “She’s fine Colonel, you don't have to worry!"

"I'll come to see you tomorrow, Anaïs,” said Reed. “If you need anything, Ms. Rice is at your disposal. Goodbye for now."

"Thank you, Colonel."

52

When Anaïs had woken up in her garage, Aisha was already on the plane to Paris. She had changed the locks and all the keys to the house and had bought a new smartphone: she had a new phone number and it didn't even cross her mind to look for Savannah on her old phone.

Mark had told her a lot of lies, he had scared her to death, and she did not want to see him again, even if the thought of the sex the night before sent a chill between her legs.

Aisha decided to spend a month in Paris; she had no desire to return to New York.

Mark Savannah arrived in Dallas two days later. He was upset and he could not get rid of the image of the woman agent who had ambushed and tried to kill him. Why had he bandaged her wounds after beating her up? He couldn’t answer that question just yet.

He called the County Southwestern Medical Center from a pay phone at the station.

"Hello, my name is Mark Savannah, I would like to talk to Dr. David Marshall, please."

Marshall came to the phone almost immediately.

"Mark? This is Marshall. What’s your real name?"

"First you have to tell me who contacted me and from where,” replied Savannah coldly.

"Andrew Davis, from Buenos Aires."

"Ok,” Savannah relaxed, “the name’s Barnett Cooper. It's a pleasure to talk to you."

"Third Floor, Department of Neurology. I'm waiting here for you,” said Marshall. “I’ll recognize you: I have a picture of you."

"I’ll be with you within an hour" Mark said and hung up.

PART THREE

Mark Stearman

53

The County Southwestern Medical Center was a hospital and a university center that provided specialized services of the highest level. The organization promoted numerous clinical trials per year and followed an innovative methodology in the diagnosis of neurodegenerative diseases.

Only a few other institutions in the United States were able to compete: the department of neurology and neurosurgery were indeed the pride of the state.

Mark arrived at reception and asked for Dr. David Marshall, then he went up to the third floor of the neurology department.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"Please, come in," answered a baritone voice.

Mark found himself in a large and bright office, there were several blooming orchids and an open box of Swiss chocolates on the desk.

"Hi Mark, I'm David," he said extending his hand.

David Marshall was a man of about sixty, short of stature and skinny, while the deep and warm voice completely contrasted with his slender and insignificant figure.

"Mark, make yourself comfortable, and taste one of these, my sister brought them back from a holiday in Switzerland. They’re really good!"

He did not need to be told twice; Savannah loved chocolate and especially Swiss chocolate. It tasted very different from all other chocolate because it is less sweet and much creamier. He put two in his mouth, choosing dark ones…he loved the bitterness of the cocoa on the back of the tongue.

"Um...they are fantastic, David! I would eat at least ten of them, but in addition to permanently depriving you of such a pleasure, I might get used to too much serotonin. In the past few days mine has been well below the safe limit," Mark said smiling and winking.

"Yeah, and I guess you must be pretty tired,” replied Marshall. “I owe you an explanation and then I'll let you rest until tomorrow morning...but tell me honestly, are you here right now because you have no alternative, or because you trust Davis?"

"Davis was my father’s best friend and he gave me the missing pieces of my childhood puzzle. In addition to that, I need to catch my breath, I am a doctor and I want to go back to my medical profession, probably forever, considering the courtesy of my former employers...but what does Davis want from me now. Who does he work for? "

"As he has already explained to you: he has kept himself out of the fray for a long time, now he just wants to protect you."

"Well, you don't expect me to believe that, do you?"

Marshall ignored the question.

"You can stay here as long as you want; starting from tomorrow, you'll be working with me at the Department of Neurology, you are a permanent employee under the name of Mark Stearman.

“All your documents relating to your degree and your PhD were filed in the personnel and administrative offices with that name. You just have to sign your letter of employment. Here, this one..." Marshall handed him the document.

Mark read it and signed it without hesitation.

"You have a studio apartment on the campus included in your "package". Here are the keys.” Marshall stood up and handed the keys to Savannah. “I'll walk you over there now, so that you can relax and become familiar with the facilities before starting tomorrow. Here's your access badge, remember that when you leave you will have to return it."

"I am both amazed and pleased to be a psychiatrist again,” said Savannah as he reached for the keys and pass. “I’ve missed the contact with patients and the lab research...I can work on new projects, right?"

"Of course, if you didn’t have the pedigree you have, you wouldn’t be here anyway. Davis is a good friend, but I'm not your benefactor...Welcome to Dallas, Doctor Stearman!"

Marshall walked Savannah to his quarters and then returned to the neurology department. Mark made the bed and spent the entire afternoon sleeping; he was in dire need of sleep in order to have a relaxed mind for the next day.

Before falling deeply asleep, he thought how his code name, Lisunov Li-2, was now on the shelf like clothes that were out of style.

When he woke, it was already evening and he decided to go out and do some shopping and buy Doctor Stearman some suitable new clothes. Marshall had given him a cash advance on his salary and Savannah could finally be independent again.

When he was on the way back, he remembered that he still had Aisha’s cell phone, and that as soon as possible he should contact Pavel in Sofia to give him some news. He stopped at a mall and bought a smartphone.

Savannah sat down on a bench beside the road and sent the photos he had taken of the assassin from Aisha’s phone to his new device via Bluetooth. Then he wiped the model’s phone clean and destroyed it.

‘I'm sure you've already bought a new one and after the scare I gave you, you will not want to have anything to do with me.’ Mark thought with a grimace as he picked up the pieces and threw them in various waste containers.

After dinner, he sent a text message to Pavel Doko, “QTH Southwestern County Medical Center QRA Dr. Stearman, need my magic smartphone, thanks."

Savannah knew that Pavel was waiting to hear from him and get his position so that he could send him the new device that would allow them to communicate without problems.

Pavel was in his bunker in Sofia when he read the message; he was gorging himself on ice cream while talking on the phone with Anna, who was telling him about her chaotic day at the office.

"Pavel, I owe you one. The other night the kids were so delighted to have had you as a baby sitter...Have you got anything on tomorrow night?" asked Anna.

"Should I come dressed or..."

"Pavel, we’re going to dinner together in a public place, besides it is not that hot, they would arrest you...how about the Lebanese restaurant… Koura...that was the name, wasn’t it?"

"Yes. I love Lebanese food…and afterwards, what will we do?"

"When?"

"After the restaurant."

"Would you like to go to the cinema?"

Pavel sighed. It was useless, he thought to himself, he’d just pretend he hadn't heard that.

"I was imagining a close encounter of the fourth kind..." he said hopefully to Anna.

"Professor Doko, you always let your imagination run wild. The babysitter stays until midnight and then she has to go...even if Spock from Star Trek were to materialize in front of me, I would not accept his gallant company. I have a long and troublesome history with men and you, even if you are my best friend, are no exception," Anna said, laughing.

"What a pain in the neck you are!” said Pavel. “You could at least say we'll see what might happen. If there isn’t an earthquake, an invasion of locusts or a volcanic eruption in the streets of Sofia...we could try. I'll pick you up at 8:00 o’clock, my dear. Wear a tight dress, high heels and no lipstick: I'll try to kiss you when you least expect it!"

"Goodbye Pavel, see you tomorrow!"

"Goodbye to you, beautiful lady."

After the conversation, Pavel sent Mark another text message:

"QSX happy to hear from u. QRV dispatch tomorrow."

54

"Who is Stefano Allegri to you?" Jago C. Green asked Anaïs curiously.

"Mind of your own business, Green!" the woman replied bluntly.

"Why does the Italian architect of Lausanne want to see you?"

"Really! Shut up. It's my business, and the next time you eavesdrop behind the door I will get violent, just like two years ago with one difference. I am now a trained agent and you are a tame lab rat."

"It's not a personal matter, Anaïs. You are part of this organization and procedures require you to declare the people you frequent regularly; they could endanger you and the mission. Why isn’t he on file?"

"Simply because we have not seen each other in nine years, that's it. Have you got any news about Savannah from the informants?"

"The cameras have taken pictures of him at the station in New York City at night. He definitely took a train, but we don't know where to. You need to evaluate all the departures in a two-hour time span and look for a connection between his life and a probable route of escape...it will not be that easy; Interpol has issued his photo to all member countries but there have been no matches so far. He’s not stupid; he hasn’t passed through the airports, or used his credit cards."

"What about the autopsy on Reed’s son? Did they find anything useful?"

"Not for our purposes... So, who is Allegri?"

"The file with the complete psychological profile and biography of Savannah,” snapped Anaïs, ignoring Jago’s question with a sneer. “The file with new details from the British Secret Intelligence Service. Where is it? You promised to get it for me!"

"Here it is, but I'll only give it to you if you tell me who that guy is."

"My ex-boyfriend. At that time I was attending college, is that enough? And why he wants to see me again after so long? I don’t know. Among other things we parted badly, I was fed up with his “perhaps” and his “buts”; he was too attached to his mother’s apron strings and besides he hated mountains...and I love them. Satisfied?

“As you may have heard,” continued Anaïs, “I’m meeting him when I return to New York to look for Savannah...and I'll tell you this: I intend to see his girlfriend, the model. Maybe she can give me a lead, even if she will surely not know anything."

"When are you planning on going? You’re still in a bad shape."

"I'm leaving in three days and now, with your help, I want to get up and try to figure out where I am and what Biosketch Technologies Inc. does."

"Colonel Reed gave me strict orders not to let you move."

"I don't give a shit about Reed’s orders. As far as I know, "Transtem 1.1" is of public interest and is followed by the media. I’m very interested in scientific projects, what's wrong with that?...And who, if not you, can explain the company and its scientific activities to me? Or does Reed have something serious to hide? Why call me here and not to headquarters. Strange, don't you agree?"

"Exactly, but you can’t go anywhere; you stay here and you get some rest." Jago said, knowing he was lying.

SkylineP92 got out of bed; Green saw that she became suddenly pale and caught her.

"Anaïs, stop being stubborn, you’re still weak. You might pass out."

"Jago, I'm all sore, that’s true, but please help me get dressed. I cannot think of leaving this place in three days without regaining the ability to walk."

With grace and without malice, Anaïs took off her shirt and stood naked in front of the hacker, who immediately took a bra and a pair of panties from the cabinet with an astonished look.

"Thank you," said SkylineP92. "While you're there, could you also pass me my clothes? Don’t tell me you are embarrassed after you almost undressed me in the forest. Don't look at me that way!” Anaïs laughed at Green. “Thanks. Now please help me put on the T-shirt and sweater...slowly...what terrible pain. OK OK. I can manage with the pants...here goes..."

"Are you happy now?" asked Green.

"Not at all, give me the details on the "Transtem 1.1" project. I have a lot of things to learn before I go..."

"What? You’re leaving?"

"I asked to be transferred to Mayer’s astrophysics department. I want to lock myself into the universe and study in an ivory tower; I don’t enjoy being a secret agent anymore and I have no one to share my emotions with...so it's better to rationalize them in frequencies and binary codes watching the stars."

"Look SkylineP92, I’ll give you a quick tour at lunch time to avoid the cameras, the staff will be in the cafeteria, but on one condition: you have to pilot a plane for me. I would like to fly with someone that I'm seeing this weekend, and I have to tell you frankly that I want to have sex with her."

"Always straight to the point, eh!” said Anaïs. “OK, agreed, and where does this person live?"

"Santa Fe, my idea is to meet her at the Santa Fe airfield and take her for a scenic ride. Afterwards you’ll leave us on the ground and return back alone. You organize the details, the aircraft rental and fuel is on me."

"Okay Jago, now give me the Savannah file, then come and get me when the staff are in the cafeteria. I know something about the project, so be ready, I'll have lots of questions for you."

Jago C. Green left Mark Savannah’s dossier on her bed and returned to his office.

Anaïs put the documents on the table, then sat down and began to read them.

After about an hour she had a clear picture of the former British agent’s psychological profile and she was sure he would not stay hidden for long; he was a resolute and active guy and therefore he would have find a way to quickly re-enter and remain in the world of the living.

‘You’re really a complex subject Savannah, based on what I've read I really don’t understand you at all: you are a cold, cynical and self-centered person. You have been trained to carry out the bloodiest of tasks, you have a terrific curriculum vitae that would dwarf anyone here at the CIA, but you did not kill me, instead you intentionally left the knots loose and the keys to the garage in plain sight.

‘However, Colonel Reed is right: we’re very similar, we have the same IQ, problems relating to the opposite sex, we’re stubborn, independent and we don't care too much for discipline, rules or the established order, and we don’t recognize authority, especially if it is not up to its task, and you love to fly. Well, maybe you also like mountains. Why have I failed with you? I've been cursing myself since I came here. I absolutely have to go back to visit Aisha and resume hunting...’Anaïs had not finished thinking this through when Jago entered the room.

"SkylineP92, we have to go, we have only a short time." Jago C. Green came and took her gently by the arm, "Do you feel like walking? Do you still feel dizzy?"

"I'm fine, let's go. Take me to the laboratories Jago. I have a badge to access all corridors, so I can move freely in those areas."

Seven minutes later they were in the laboratory that produced the scaffold: Anaïs was glued to the wall in the only corner that escaped the eye of the camera, while Green simulated a routine inspection.

Everything on the production line was automated and ended with the special packaging of the scaffold, which was then conveyed to a special refrigerated warehouse.

On the way out SkylineP92 asked Green, "How many people work here?"

"No one, it’s all run by the central unit that runs the entire production process; every hour a technician enters to do several quality control checks on the product and to make sure that there are no problems or interruptions in the production procedures."

"Interesting, did you develop the software?"

"Yes, with my team that, for obvious reasons, you cannot meet.”

“In a moment we will enter the second laboratory, the doors you will see on each side of the corridor are hospital rooms, the operating rooms, the infirmary, the stockroom for medicines and the refrigerated vault-warehouse."

"Vault?"

"We work on mesenchymal stem cells and the new tailor-made tissue must be kept with the scaffold in safe conditions before being transplanted in order to avoid any form of industrial espionage. Here we’re! I’ll enter now, you enter when the camera moves away from door. The blind spot is to the side of the blue cabinet, you have to go straight there and nowhere else."

Anaïs came in and flattened herself against a laboratory cabinet: she saw that there was also a customized production line for each tissue in this second lab.

They s less than three minutes and then they went out to the corridor again.

"Is this area managed by the central unit?" asked Anaïs.

"Yeah, although three technicians carry out quality and production controls every half hour, it takes five weeks to get a tissue ready for transplantation."

"Have you ever had problems with transplant patients?"

"No, thank God. Only an extremely low percentage of cases following the transplant had minor infections that were quickly eradicated with a drug cocktail. Our patients are followed by accredited university hospitals located in different states, and each patient is equipped with a tablet to which we download the applications for his or her daily monitoring from our server. The patient diary is a communications application that enables the patient to stay in constant contact with the hospital and with our scientific team."

"What I’ve seen is really impressive. Well done, Jago."

"It was the Colonel’s idea. He has been trying to get government funding for many years. I owe a lot to him. Among other things, we’re also ready to launch tailor-made production on an industrial scale. We’re now able, through the automation of the culture processes, to put at least one thousand customized tissues into production every day. Do you realize what that means?” asked Green.

Anaïs nodded slowly.

“How about a bite to eat?” asked Green.

"Sure, I'm hungry. Let's go eat."