Pandora's Succession (12 page)

“How the Sam Hill could they just turn around and put all the blame on us? Whoever’s responsible for this attack had to get in the country somehow. Damn it, we could easily turn around and blame them for lax border patrol.”

“We can blame the Ugandans for lax border patrol and they can blame us for lax security on our own compound,” said the Post Commander. “All that’s going to accomplish, is to create tension between our two countries. That’s something we don’t need right now.” Bell went to the opposite side of the table from Downing. “We need more allies here in Africa, if we’re going to prevent terrorists from gaining ground in these parts.”

“Try explaining that to someone who’ll listen.” General Downing shot a menacing stare at Fox and Walsh—making them feel like two young brothers who were about to be accused of something they knew nothing about. “Any of you men want to trade jobs?” They both looked at each other and then back at Downing. “I didn’t think so.” He rested his cane against the side of the table as he took his seat with Colonel Bell. He sighed. “Some things were found at the CDC compound. But they don’t tell us much.”

“Such as?” asked Fox.

“They recovered the clothes of the deceased,” said Downing. “There were the guards, the scientists, and some clothing from the SEALs. Unless the perpetrators were naked there’s no extra clothes indicating they were among the dead.”

Fox shook his head. “That’s a shame.”

“Yes, it is,” said Downing. “A damn shame that some Russian-speaking individuals managed to sneak into the compound right under our noses, make off with Pandora, and leave everyone else for dead. And so far, there are no leads as to where they are.”

“Nor where they’re heading,” said Colonel Bell.

Fox held back a yawn and rubbed his left eye. “Was there anything else found that was unusual?”

“Just a dagger sitting on the ground inside the dome,” said Bell. “As far as I know, none of our boys were carrying it.” He handed Downing the folder who then passed it on to Fox.

Walsh turned to Bell. “Any prints?”

He shook his head. “Nada.”

“That’s no surprise.” Fox opened the folder and looked at the picture of the dagger. “But this is.”

“What is?” Walsh leaned over to look at the picture.

“It’s a D-W73 Cold War dagger.” Fox handed the picture to Walsh. “This is a 1950’s issue for Russian Air Force officers. There are more modern daggers that could’ve been used if you wanted to attack someone.”

Bell turned to Fox. “Looks like Ares left their calling card.”

“It’s unusual for them to go to that extreme,” Fox replied.

“Was there any blood or other DNA evidence found on the clothing?” asked Walsh.

Downing shook his head. “There wasn’t a speck of DNA evidence at the crime scene. There wasn’t even any fresh blood on the clothing—just tear marks on one of the victim’s clothing, made from the knife attack, we’re assuming.”

Fox shook his head.
No doubt. Marx said that Pandora will consume everything in order to reproduce.
Fox turned to Bell. “And the video footage before the incident?”

“Wiped clean,” Bell replied. “These guys did their homework.”

Walsh put both arms on the table and looked at Downing. “Then we should find out more about this Sveta Stechina chick. I say that we search her home inside out. She’s got to have something that could link us to Ares.”

Fox rolled his eyes. “That’s the first thing Ares would’ve done. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her house burnt down under mysterious circumstances.”
Jesus, Walsh, what else do you expect?

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” said General Downing.

“What’s that?” A faint voice with a strong New Jersey accent came from the other side.

“I said, come on in,” Downing repeated louder.

“Right,” said the voice.

Fox had a strong feeling who it was, as he looked at the doorway.

The door shook a few times as though the person had difficulty opening it. “The door’s locked, sir,” the man said.

Fox rolled his eyes and looked away from the door.
Oh yeah, it’s definitely him.
“Try pushing the door instead of pulling, Dobbs.”

“Right,” came the answer, and Bill Dobbs entered.

“What brings you here?” Fox wished he could take that question back.

“You won’t believe this. I was in one of the offices set aside for me, trying out this new online computer game, you know the ones with the—”

“I’m sure it was exciting. What’s going on?” the General asked. Fox would’ve cut him off too—Dobbs had a tendency to carry on.

Dobbs paused a moment as though he forgot what he was talking about. “Right. I got some classified info to show you.”

Fox chuckled. “Classified? Say it ain’t so.”

Dobbs ignored him and took out some pictures and documents. He was no stranger to Fox’s comments and was often the butt of his jokes.

“Anyway, nearly half an hour ago, about 4:00 AM, a search was run on this man after he was spotted in Tokyo, by one of our undercover agents. He has several aliases, but the CIA databases have him listed as Valerik. He’s a former KGB agent and hasn’t been seen since the early 1990s.”

Fox raised his left eyebrow. “He disappeared around the time the Cold War ended, only to reappear again.”

Walsh turned to Fox. “You think he could be involved somehow in the Pandora incident?”

“Uh, guys, that’s why I’m here.” Dobbs pushed his glasses back up his nose. “As I mentioned, a search was done on Valerik by one of our agents who’s currently on assignment in Tokyo. He was spotted at the Hexagon Pharmaceutical Company around 11:00 AM, Japanese time, which would correspond with the multimedia search at 4:00 AM, our local time.”

Walsh sighed. “Aw hell, you’re confusing me with this goddamn time zone crap, Dobbs.”

“I’ll give you a crash course on time zones afterwards,” said Fox. He turned to Dobbs. “Go on.”

“Sure. As I was saying, we don’t know why he’s there, but I took the liberty to track his latest movements. It turns out that he boarded a plane in Minsk at 12:00 PM earlier today, which is in the same time zone as we are. He only made one connecting flight in Moscow, under a different alias, before he reached Tokyo. He travelled light, one bag of luggage and a briefcase.”

Bell chuckled. “Son of a gun. What are the chances of that?”

“That’s all he needed,” said Fox.

“What’s that?” asked Dobbs.

“A briefcase,” Fox replied. “If he was involved in what happened back there, then he could’ve smuggled a sample of Pandora with him, like the one I travelled with.”

Dobbs smiled. “It’s pretty neat, because we currently have a model type of the briefcase that Valerik was most likely travelling with. It’s designed to hide the contents. Does a hell of a job fooling x-ray machines. They’ve been around for quite a while. First, we had one model and then the Russians developed their version and then the Germans. Of course the British had to—”

“I’m sure they’re very nice briefcases, Bill.” General Downing sank back in his chair.

“Valerik’s probably getting help from Hexagon Pharmaceuticals to reproduce Pandora. They’d be equipped to do so,” said Walsh.

Fox breathed a sigh of relief as he held out the picture of Valerik. “Our missing link. So who’s the agent who spotted him? I assume we’ll be meeting him.”

Downing attempted a half smile as he turned to Fox. “You mean
she
. And it’s someone you should know pretty well.”

“Right,” said Dobbs. “Well, there’s a man also, but the actual one who spotted him was a woman. The man who’s assisting her is a computer specialist like me and—”

“I’m sure he’s a nice guy, Bill.” Fox turned from Downing and looked at Dobbs. “Who are they?”

Dobbs sighed and dropped his arms beside him. “I was just getting to that. For Pete’s sake, why do you guys keep interrupting me all the time? Anyhow, the man’s name is Tomas Levickis.” Dobbs picked up the manila folder and fingered through the documents until he found the pictures of both agents. “And the woman is Dr. Nita Parris.”

Fox raised an eyebrow and looked at Dobbs. “Doctor who?” He didn’t wait for him to answer. He got up, walked over to Dobbs and snatched the photograph from him.

“Uh, I said, Dr. Nita Parris. She’s a biochemist and used to be a weapons analyst. She’s working under NOC at Hexagon.” Dobbs’s referral to NOC was an acronym for
Nonofficial Cover
—agents that worked worldwide as employees for companies, real or fake, and also as students.

“Their mission was to find out everything about their brainwashing experiment. I haven’t met her myself, but I heard she’s got nice set of calves. She’s also—”

“Born and raised in Barbados and graduated with top honors from Princeton University,” said Fox. “She was three-time Ivy League Conference champion in the sprint hurdles both in the indoor and outdoor seasons. She was also pretty quick over the 200-meter dash.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off the black and white photograph. All CIA photographs were recent. She had not changed a bit since he last saw her.
Was she a field agent when I met her?
Sure, he could ask Downing and just get the that’s-classified response. Somehow he felt that she wasn’t, she appeared to be too honest with him. Then again, he’s trained to appear the same way to people too.

Downing smirked. “I sent Dr. Parris and Levickis over there to gather intel on her boss, Dr. Hideaki Hashimoto. I want to know what’s really going on at Hexagon. I suspect that Japan’s Boeisho is looking into them, but I feel more comfortable having our own operatives over there, just in case the Japanese neglect to tell us something.” His referral to Boeisho was the acronym for the Self Defense Forces, or Boeisho Boeikyoku. “Come to think of it, I forgot to mention this to them.”

Dobbs turned to Fox. “So you’ve worked with her before?”

Fox was a bit hesitant before answering. He remembered the night that he stood her up, only to learn after that she was carjacked on her way home. Although he learned that she survived the ordeal, it only brought a bit of comfort. But now she was going to be back in his life, and he’d have no choice but to respond to what he did to her. “Well, not exactly.”

Walsh chuckled. “Probably dated and dumped her, too.”

There was a short silence as he looked at Fox, who looked back at him briefly, and then turned away.

Walsh’s head dropped into his hand and he shook his head. “Jesus H. Christ, Fox! I can’t believe you.”

“It was a few of years ago. She told me she was a researcher.”

“And you probably told her you were a travelling salesman. I’m sure she’s looking forward to seeing you again.”

“She’ll forgive me.”
Yeah right, dream on.
A few hours ago he was going to officially resign from CIA. Now with Hiller’s death, the possibility that an Ares agent has gone rogue, and the involvement of an old flame of his, it’s as though life was testing him.

Downing cleared his throat loudly. “You two can straighten that out when you meet. I’ll contact my secretary, Ms. Vasell, and have her make the travel arrangements for all three of you. I’m putting you three in charge of tracking down and capturing Valerik. I’m also interested in knowing what’s going on at Hexagon Pharmaceuticals. There’s other details that you’ll just have to catch up on in the briefing you’ll receive, Any questions?” Nobody answered. “Then this meeting’s adjourned.”

Dobbs was the first to leave as Walsh came up to Fox. “Who’s your friend?”

“Who, Dobbs? He’s one of the geeks from the Office of Science and Technology. He’s an expert in anything with a circuit board and high-caffeine consumption. I heard that his wife’s seven months pregnant.”

Walsh chuckled. “Looks like he doesn’t get out much. I got to say, you know some mighty weird folk.”

Fox looked Walsh in the eye. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s funny how they always wind up working with me.”

Walsh’s smirk disappeared, and before he could reply, General Downing called out to Fox. “Fox, hang around a minute.”

Colonel Bell turned to Downing. “I’ll see you later.”

“Sure thing, Fred.”

Fox stood where he was, and he heard the Colonel close the door behind him.

“I want you to share your thoughts with me. You’re the only one who found it strange that the culprits would use that particular dagger and leave it behind.”

“It doesn’t make sense, sir. If someone wanted to cover their tracks, why would they unleash Pandora, risking their own lives, and leave the dagger. Another thing I didn’t bring up in the meeting—it was reported that the culprits spoke Russian. Were they actually heard in the background speaking Russian when the SOS was sent? Why would they risk being heard when our voice recognition computers could isolate their voices and potentially identify them? Anyone in Ares wouldn’t have been so careless.”

Downing nodded approvingly. “You’re right.”

“We should consider the possibility that someone’s trying to mislead us, and is attempting to send us on a wild goose chase.”