Authors: David Hagberg
Soldier of God (7 page)
He turned to his operators at the door. “The man has a satphone. Destroy it,” he ordered. Without warning, he slashed the machine pistol’s heavy butt across the side of Shaw’s head, nearly knocking the former SecDef off his feet, a six-inch gash opening from his cheek to the hairline above his ear.
McGarvey and Grassinger reached the inside corridor cabin assigned to Mr. and Mrs. James Garwood without seeing any other passenger or crewman. Once again the hairs at the back of McGarvey’s neck prickled, though he couldn’t say why. It was some inner sense, some inner earlywarning
system kicking in. But like an overused smoke detector, he sometimes got false alarms.
system kicking in. But like an overused smoke detector, he sometimes got false alarms.
He unlocked the door with his key, and eased it open with the toe of his shoe. They’d left one of the lights over the bed on, and it provided enough illumination for him to see that nothing had been disturbed.
Grassinger pulled his pistol, glanced both ways up the corridor, and then eased McGarvey to one side, and looked inside the cabin. “Okay, boss, what’s going on?”
“Probably nothing,” McGarvey said. He went to the closet, where he found Katy’s blue velvet zippered pouch in one of the side pockets.
“I don’t like that word
probably,
” Grassinger said. He looked inside the tiny bathroom tucked in the forward corner, then checked under the bed and took a look out the big window. But there was nothing to be seen except for the reflection of the ship’s running lights in the water rushing past.
probably,
” Grassinger said. He looked inside the tiny bathroom tucked in the forward corner, then checked under the bed and took a look out the big window. But there was nothing to be seen except for the reflection of the ship’s running lights in the water rushing past.
“Like I said, I’m tired,” McGarvey answered absently. His mind was elsewhere. There was something he was missing. Something at some unconscious level of his awareness. Something he was hearing, or feeling, or even smelling that wasn’t registering. Yet it was there.
He found the gold hoop earrings Katy wanted, and slipped them into his jacket pocket.
Grassinger went to the door and looked out into the corridor. “It’s too quiet,” he said softly, as if he didn’t want to disturb the silence by raising his voice.
“Everybody’s in the Grand Salon.”
“Most of the crew aren’t,” Grassinger said.
“That’s right. They’re on the bridge, in the radio room, down in the galley, or in engineering doing their jobs. The ones off duty are either in their bunks or in whatever common room they have aboard, not up here wandering around in the corridors.”
“Let’s stop by the bridge and see what’s holding up the captain.”
“He’s probably already back in the Grand Salon wondering what’s taking me so long,” McGarvey said. He opened one of the side pockets in his hanging bag where he’d stuffed his gun, holster, and spare magazines. He debated rearming himself, but then he had to ask why. He was supposed
to be on vacation. He had an armed guard with him, and the CIA and DoD had vetted the crew and passengers.
to be on vacation. He had an armed guard with him, and the CIA and DoD had vetted the crew and passengers.
“I can call and ask,” Grassinger suggested.
McGarvey zippered the side pocket, and shut the closet door. “This is only the second night out, Jim. And if we keep going like this, we’ll probably end up shooting each other.” He forced a grin. “We’re going to start having a good time around here, and that’s an order.”
Grassinger reluctantly put his gun away. “You’re right. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing my job.”
McGarvey looked at him. “I don’t expect that you will. But we have to ease up a little. And that goes for me as well as for you.”
Grassinger chuckled. “It’s a deal, boss, as long as you don’t use the word probably again. Gives me the creeps.”
“Right. Katy and I are going to have a last dance, and then we’re coming up to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“That it has,” Grassinger said.
Getting out of Washington unnoticed yesterday had been an exercise in subterfuge. Ever since McGarvey’s contentious Senate subcommittee hearings to confirm his appointment as director of Central Intelligence, the media had practically camped on the CIA’s doorstep, and down the block from his house in Chevy Chase when he was in residence. Every time his limousine made a move, the press was on his tail. It was almost as bad as being chased by the paparazzi. One of the security people drove Katy and their bags out to an Air Force VIP Gulfstream at Andrews, while McGarvey was taken to FBI headquarters in the J. Edgar Hoover Building on Pennsylvania Avenue. He transferred to an unmarked, windowless surveillance van and was finally driven out to Andrews, where he was given immediate clearance to take off.
The flight was bumpy all the way out to Ellsworth Air Force Base in Rapid City, South Dakota, where they were forced to land in a blinding rainstorm with high winds because one of the control system’s trouble lights indicated they were losing hydraulic fluid. It turned out to be a false alarm, but they refueled and then took off again during a brief break in the weather. An hour out of Ellsworth, Katy got airsick, but refused to let them set down or turn back.
After that, the weather improved a little until they finally landed at
Juneau in a cold drizzle, and Katy immediately perked up. She had looked forward to this trip for several months, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her from having a good time; once they got back to Washington, her obstetrician promised to be on her back 24/7, and she would have to start behaving herself.
Juneau in a cold drizzle, and Katy immediately perked up. She had looked forward to this trip for several months, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her from having a good time; once they got back to Washington, her obstetrician promised to be on her back 24/7, and she would have to start behaving herself.
Katy and Kirk would have to get a good night’s sleep, because they would be busy again the next day, hiking on glaciers, kayaking to chase whales, otter spotting, maybe salmon fishing or oyster hunting, whitewater rafting, and even hiking through the Sitka forests to see elaborately carved totem poles. They wanted to see and do as much as they possibly could while Katy was still in the earliest stages of her pregnancy. The toughest part would be complying with the strict order her doctor had given to Mac: “Slow her down, Mr. Director; she’s not a twenty-five-year-old girl.”
“Did you tell her that?” McGarvey asked.
Her doctor had smiled faintly. “All except the part about not being twenty-five. But she’ll be just fine as long as you don’t let her overdo it.”
McGarvey followed his bodyguard back down to the lounge deck. The doors to the Grand Salon were closed, but the corridor was ice cold, as if a hatch or something was open to the outside.
Grassinger shoved open the door and stepped inside, McGarvey right behind him. Almost immediately, Grassinger pivoted, danced to the left, and went for his gun.
McGarvey caught a snapshot glimpse of the passengers seated at their tables, a lot of bodies lying in pools of blood on the floor and up on the stage, and eight or ten men armed with what looked like compact submachine guns, big silencers on the ends of the barrels, positioned along the walls. Katy and Karen Shaw were seated at their table, but the former SecDef stood next to a man dressed in what could have been a ship’s officer’s white jacket, a black balaclava over his head.
Grassinger only just got his gun hand inside his jacket when he was violently cast sideways off his feet by a hail of gunfire from a silenced submachine gun, which stitched a half dozen or more wounds from the side of his head to his hip.
The man in the black balaclava next to Shaw started to turn toward the commotion, as did the other terrorists.
The passengers were slower to react, but already several of them had jumped up and were attempting to escape, while a few others were diving for the floor to get out of the line of fire.
Within the next few seconds the situation would get completely out of hand unless the terrorists were too busy dealing with an immediate threat to their own safety to take their rage out on the helpless passengers. It was obvious that they were here to take the former secretary of defense hostage. It meant that they might be open to some form of negotiation, especially if they weren’t sure that they were in total control.
All that went through McGarvey’s head at the speed of light, and to an observer it seemed as if he reacted the instant Grassinger reached for his pistol.
The shooter, just behind the door to the right, moved forward toward his target as he fired, as most shooters do. The silencer and muzzle of the RAK submachine pistol poked around the edge of the door. Mindless of the hot metal, McGarvey grabbed the barrel with his bare hand, and twisting it sharply to the left as he deflected it upward and away from himself as well as the passengers, he pulled the gunman half out into the corridor.
McGarvey’s instant impression was that the shooter was a young kid, maybe in his early twenties, most likely a Saudi or perhaps an Iranian or an Iraqi. He forced the muzzle of the silencer under the terrorist’s chin, and then yanked the gun upward, causing it to fire. The one round took the top of the shooter’s head off. His grip slackened as he went down. McGarvey snatched the RAK, and fired one controlled burst of three rounds over the heads of the panicking passengers.
The terrorists dove for cover, and before they could react Mac stepped back into the corridor and out of sight. He didn’t want to further endanger the passengers by drawing fire.
He could have taken out several of the terrorists, but they not only had the firepower advantage over him, they also had the passengers as shields. Katy was at the Shaws’ table, and although it didn’t appear as if the terrorists knew who she was, that might not last.
It was likely that the terrorists had already taken control of the ship. It’s why he and Grassinger had not bumped into anyone on the upper deck
when they’d gone back for Katy’s earrings. The rest of the crew was probably dead, or incapacitated.
when they’d gone back for Katy’s earrings. The rest of the crew was probably dead, or incapacitated.
Grassinger’s blood was spreading through the doors out into the corridor, a shocking red against the pale green carpeting.
The entire Grand Salon could very well become a killing field soon unless McGarvey did something. Katy had turned toward the door when the firing started. She’d had just a split second to see what was going on, and to see who was there, before he ducked out of sight. She knew that he would not leave her there.
Hang on, Katy
, he said to himself, as he turned and sprinted down the corridor to the starboard stairs, and took them two at a time up to the bridge deck.
, he said to himself, as he turned and sprinted down the corridor to the starboard stairs, and took them two at a time up to the bridge deck.
First he would see if the radio room could be salvaged so that an SOS could be sent. Next he would check the bridge to see if the terrorists had put someone at the helm. And then he would start isolating them and taking them down, one or two at a time. Keep them so busy and so much on the defensive that they would be forced to forget about their primary mission.
They would pay, not only for killing Jim Grassinger and for placing the passengers in such great danger, but for putting Katy in harm’s way. After this night they would rue the day they ever heard of the
Spirit of ’98
.
Spirit of ’98
.
Ernst Gertner’s call to the chalet did not come as a surprise.
Detective Ziegler held his hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s the captain, and he doesn’t sound happy.” He handed the phone to Liese.This was supposed to be a stealthy surveillance, which in Swiss parlance meant that no one was to know anything about it; neither the prince’s family nor anyone official at Nidwalden HQ. When she’d called the Kanton operations officer
for telephone records of the Thalwil Boarding School near Zurich, the ball had been sent up. Questions of an official nature were raised because they had to be raised. Wealthy, powerful men such as the prince were to be treated with extreme care. So long as they broke no Swiss laws, they were not to be interfered with under any circumstance. Now that was the official policy. In actuality men such as the prince simply could not be left entirely to their own devices. They had to be monitored. Especially in this day and age. But quietly, unofficially.
for telephone records of the Thalwil Boarding School near Zurich, the ball had been sent up. Questions of an official nature were raised because they had to be raised. Wealthy, powerful men such as the prince were to be treated with extreme care. So long as they broke no Swiss laws, they were not to be interfered with under any circumstance. Now that was the official policy. In actuality men such as the prince simply could not be left entirely to their own devices. They had to be monitored. Especially in this day and age. But quietly, unofficially.
A lot of eyes at headquarters in Bern were looking at Liese as if under a microscope. If she continued to do her job with intelligence and self-control, she would be considered for promotion to lieutenant. She would be the first woman in the history of the Swiss Federal Police to hold such a lofty position. But if she made a mistake, any mistake, it would be blamed on her sex, and she would remain a sergeant until she finally got disgusted enough to resign, which is exactly what half of the force wanted to happen.
“Goodness gracious, why didn’t you call me first?” Gertner demanded angrily. “I could have made quiet inquiries.”
Liese bit her tongue to hold back a sharp retort. She had merely been doing her job. “It was five in the morning, captain. I didn’t think you wished to be disturbed at that hour.”
“I was disturbed twenty minutes later, from Bern.”
“I don’t see the point—”
“Bad news travels fast,” Gertner replied brusquely. “The president is scheduled to meet with the Saudi ambassador this noon. What would happen at that meeting if word got out of what you were doing down here?”
“What, spying on a member of the royal family?” Liese asked sharply. Who were they trying to kid? This assignment had not been her idea.
Gertner did not catch her sarcasm. “Exactly.”
“We’re to watch the prince, without appearing to watch him. Is that correct, captain?”
This time he did catch it. “That’s exactly what is required, Sergeant Fuelm,” Gertner said. He lowered his voice, his tone guarded. “Are you within earshot of your men?”
She looked at Ziegler, who was sitting at the equipment table an arm’s
length away. “No,” she lied. Her father had called her his little vixen, and Kirk had called her a spoiled brat. Nobody had ever faulted her intelligence, however.
length away. “No,” she lied. Her father had called her his little vixen, and Kirk had called her a spoiled brat. Nobody had ever faulted her intelligence, however.
“Considering the importance of this operation, we are prepared to give you a certain amount of, shall we say, latitude.”
“I’m grateful for that, sir,” Liese said.
“I have the transcript of the brief telephone conversation that occurred between Princess Sofia Salman and Dr. Junger, the headmaster at Thalwil. I have also listened to the digital recording. You were absolutely correct to assume that the woman, for whatever reason, was in a great hurry to have her children prepared to leave the school this very morning.”
For as long as she could remember, Liese had a great deal of impatience with people who took a long time to get to the point. She wanted to jump in and finish their sentences for them. Hurry them along. It was one of her least charming attributes. Sometimes she came across as arrogant.
“Did she give the headmaster a reason?”
“A family matter of some importance, though she was not specific. Nor was she precise about when the children would be returning to school.”
“They’ve done it at least once before,” Liese said. She had the Thalwil file open. The four Salman children had attended the private school for three years. This was the start of their fourth.
The line was suddenly very quiet, until Gertner came back. “Yes, we know that.”
“The prince was gone almost three months that time. And his wife took the children out of school on the third of September. For ten days. 2001.”
“The prince was at the Saudi UN Delegation office in New York.”
Law enforcement in Switzerland was much the same as anywhere else in the world. It was departmentalized. Division chiefs tended to guard their own turfs, sometimes to the detriment of ongoing investigations. In this case what Liese had not been told about the prince constituted a greater volume than what she
had
been told.
had
been told.
“Have there been other incidences—”
“A few,” Gertner answered too quickly.
“I meant other times when the prince’s absences matched other al-Quaida attacks?”
“On the surface there could have been other incidences.”
“What does that mean?” Liese shouted angrily. The thing she hated worst, even worse than being discriminated against because she was a woman, was being lied to.
“It means the timing was there, but his absences could have been coincidental.”
“Come on, Ernst.”
“No, you come on, as you put it. There were many, many incidences when the prince was gone during which there were no terrorist attacks anywhere that could be attributed to al-Quaida. He was simply conducting business, or gone on one of his gambling jaunts. Can we say with equal authority in those cases that he was ensuring the peace?”
“No, of course not,” Liese conceded. “But I would not have been handed this assignment unless you thought there might be a connection.”
“Continue,” Gertner said.
“Assuming that there is a financial connection between the prince—and therefore the Saudi royal family—and assuming that it wasn’t simply a coincidence that he ordered his wife and children to hunker down before 9/11, then something is about to happen again, and the prince knows about it because he’s the moneyman.”
“Those are very large and, I must say, dangerous assumptions.”
“Especially if it were to come out that Switzerland harbored such a criminal, and Switzerland’s banks were the conduit.”
“He may have heard rumors—men in his position are often privy to such information. In such a case he would not be guilty of violating any Swiss laws.”
“He has a house staff across the lake.”
“Cooks, gardeners, drivers.”
“Them too, Ernst. But also some very large men.” The sun was up, forming a bright halo over the Salman compound. “Supply me with a search warrant, and I can almost guarantee that we will find weapons over there.”
“If that was the only crime the prince or his staff was guilty of—considering his position—we would take no issue.”
“If he was merely a man who listened to rumors, an international playboy and multimillionaire, why would he need armed guards?” Liese asked. “Only men who are hiding something, or are afraid of something, hire bodyguards.”
“Or men protecting something. Their families.”
God, she hated this roundabout way of getting to a point. “I want to see the prince’s file. The
complete
file. You can e-mail it to me.”
complete
file. You can e-mail it to me.”
“I’ll send it by courier. The computer is too dangerous.”
“Fine, I’ll wait here then until it arrives,” Liese promised. “But tell me, Ernst, what am I going to find out? What is it you saw fit not to tell me yesterday?”
“I’ll include my notes in the file.”
“What is the problem, Ernst?” Liese demanded, her voice rising. “I’m trying to do a job down here, and you see fit to play your silly little bureaucratic games with me. If you believe that Prince Salman is funding terrorists, and you believe that somehow he might have a connection to Kirk McGarvey that I might be able to unravel for you because of my brief encounter years ago, then so be it. But give me a chance to succeed. Don’t tie my hands behind my back.”
Gertner took a moment to reply, and when he did it was clear that he too was angry. “Don’t push us on this, Liese,” he said. “There are very good reasons for our caution that have nothing to do with you or your investigation. But do let me give you a word of fatherly advice. For the moment we need you, and as I said, we are willing to give you a certain amount of latitude. But that need will not last forever.”
Liese felt cold. She walked to the tiny kitchen, her back to her surveillance team who were undoubtedly eating this up. “If you’re threatening me, then you will have my resignation on your desk before your courier arrives. I am an experienced Federal Police officer, and I demand the same treatment as any male officer is given.”
“But, my dear, you aren’t a male officer; you are a female who needs to attend to the business of following orders. And something else. You are bright and capable, but you are not a genius for whom we would be willing to make exceptions.”
Gertner tapped his pipe on an ashtray to empty the bowl. Liese could hear it. He was stalling as he tried to marshal his thoughts.
“I’ll do my best, as I always do,” Liese said. Her mother told her that her beauty would attract any man she looked at, but her big mouth would drive away any man she wanted.
“We have good intelligence that Prince Salman was in Washington as
of two days ago. But then he disappeared. The problem for us is that since yesterday Kirk McGarvey has also dropped out of sight. One coincidence is acceptable; two are not.”
of two days ago. But then he disappeared. The problem for us is that since yesterday Kirk McGarvey has also dropped out of sight. One coincidence is acceptable; two are not.”
“You thought that the prince might be back by now?” Liese asked.
“Yes.”
“But combined with the call to Thalwil there may be something,” Liese went on. She did have a big mouth, but beyond that she was carrying a feminist grudge that was getting her absolutely nowhere. “I’m sorry, captain; I was out of line. But I was merely trying to do my job.”
“I appreciate that,” Gertner said, and he sounded smug, as if once again he had stepped into the breach and solved a difficult personnel problem. He fancied himself to be a brilliant administrator.
“We will continue our surveillance operation here, of course, but what else is it that you would like me to do?” Liese asked. She knew what he was going to tell her, but she didn’t care. She did not want to be pulled off this assignment so long as it involved Kirk.
“I would like you to place a telephone call to Mr. McGarvey. You are an old friend who is somewhat nostalgic for the old days. Maybe you called simply to chat. You are lonely, and have been handed a very troubling assignment.”
You bastard
, Liese thought. To them she was nothing but a pain-in-the-ass woman, a
thing
to be tolerated, no more. But they were afraid of Kirk. And as they had done with Marta, they wanted to provide him with another Swiss whore. A man would say anything when he was in bed with his lover, or nearly anything if the prospect of going to bed with a young woman was dangled in front of his nose.
, Liese thought. To them she was nothing but a pain-in-the-ass woman, a
thing
to be tolerated, no more. But they were afraid of Kirk. And as they had done with Marta, they wanted to provide him with another Swiss whore. A man would say anything when he was in bed with his lover, or nearly anything if the prospect of going to bed with a young woman was dangled in front of his nose.
But they didn’t know Kirk. Nor did they know her.
“It’s midnight in Washington,” she pointed out.
“If he’s not out and about somewhere, he’s sure to be at home and not at his office.”
“I’ll make that call now, sir,” Liese said.
“Liese?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Record the call, please,” Gertner instructed. “All of it.” He hung up the phone.
Liese was seething. Never in her life had she been treated this way, though she’d been expecting something like this to happen. But now that they had used her sex as a lever against her, she had no idea how to fight back. She looked up at the ceiling for a moment and closed her eyes. God help her, but after all these years she was still in love with Kirk McGarvey. There never was another man like him, nor could there ever be. The thought that somehow he was involved in the 9/11 attacks and was in collusion with Prince Salman was ludicrous. But if Gertner thought such a thing were possible, then others would think so too. It was up to her to prove them wrong.
She dialed Kirk’s home number in Chevy Chase from memory, though it was the first time she’d ever let it go through. It rang twice before it was rolled over to what Liese thought would be an answering machine. She was about to hang up when a man with an oddly pitched voice, as if he were lifting something very heavy, answered.
“Oh, boy, what could the Swiss police be wanting at this hour? Especially calling from Lake Lucerne. Are you in a house or on a boat?”
“I’m sorry; I must have the wrong number,” Liese said, and she tried to break the connection, but could not; the line had been seized.
“I don’t think you have a wrong number, so don’t leave. And you have a pretty voice.”
“Who are you?”
“Otto Rencke. Does that name tinkle any little bells in your head? I’ll bet you’re pretty too. Odd for a Swiss cop.”
Liese checked the number showing on her phone’s display. It was Kirk’s home phone, which meant her call had been rolled over, probably to an operations officer at Langley who had the CIA’s computer system at his fingertips.
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