FATAL eMPULSE Read online

  The program activated. Mapping coordinates emerged on a gridded screen that laid out Damascus and the surrounding area. Instead of city streets and roadways, she saw a general outlay of the city, with a cluster of blinking red dots. Each dot had a number attached. If the computer user needed to know who represented the flashing dot, they only had to click on that dot and a name and location appeared. “We got a read on everyone.”

  The first two blinking dots leaving Old City she did not need to identify. Those were live feeds she and Max broadcasted from the embedded microchips under their skin. Jack Thompson coordinated with U.S. military to dedicate a series of predator drones over specific areas. Between the drones and satellite feeds, a second-by-second live feed had been transmitted to Jack and Colonel Perlman in Tel Aviv and to Frank Collord in the United States. And if the user had an encrypted laptop like hers, they could follow everyone’s travel like she was doing right now.

  A cluster of dots between the city and the airport marked the Sayeret Mat’kal soldiers holed up at the farmhouse. Soon, those dots might be on the move. One single dot was moving from the city toward Damascus International Airport.

  Scott Henderson.

  Raed’s men must be taking the scientist closer to the An-26 aircraft cluster on the heavily-guarded military ramp. Everything seemed to be coming together. She and the others just had to find out which aircraft the Syrians intend to use before they launched an attack in the next seventy-two hours.

  That left two more dots on the grid—Gerrit and Shakeela. Alena followed their dots as they approached the hotel. They came to a stop, and then one dot moved toward the hotel while the other dot must have stayed with the car. She shifted her attention back to Scott Henderson and his single blinking dot.

  Chapter 53

  March 15

  Damascus, Syria

  As they neared the hotel, Shakeela turned in her seat. “Why don’t you drop me off and head for the farm? I want to pack, get cleaned up, and change clothes. I’ll give you a call when I’m ready to leave.”

  “Fine with me,” Gerrit said. “Just keep your cell phone turned on in case I need to reach you.”

  “Thanks.” She motioned toward the parking lot. “Drop me off out here and I’ll walk in from a different direction, just in case there’s any surveillance on us.”

  He pulled into the parking lot and let her out near the back of the lot.

  She watched him drive away, made sure her phone was turned on, and stuck it in her back pocket beneath her coat. Walking between the cars, she studied the front of the hotel, looking for anything suspicious. So far, she saw nothing that looked out of the ordinary.

  She quickly crossed an access road between the parking lot and the main building, making it appear as if she was heading for a side entrance. This angle allowed her to see into the lobby area while keeping some distance. As she was about to round the corner of the building and lose sight of the front, several men emerged from the lobby, one of them carrying a handheld radio.

  Shakeela pressed herself against the wall, between two towering bushes. One of the men seemed to command respect from the man with the radio. She ducked down, rounded the corner, and ran for a break in the wall that would allow her to see the front of the building while still remaining hidden by shrubbery and a partial wall.

  Once she reached her destination, Shakeela slowly raised herself above the waist-high wall and peered through a thick-leafed bush that towered above her. She got a good look at the man standing ten feet away.

  Kadar Hanano. Head of intelligence.

  Shakeela blinked. Why was Hanano here? Simple—he knew that she and the others must be staying here. If so, there must be surveillance on the hotel. If Hanano knew they were here, so did the Iranian and others. Someone blew their cover.

  Hanano motioned toward the parking lot. “I want you and the others to stay here until the Americans show up. Capture them or shoot them—I don’t care. Just do not let them leave. I cannot have them meddling in our plans.”

  The man with the portable radio nodded. “We will keep watch, sir. I will call as soon as we have eliminated them.”

  Hanano patted the man on the shoulder. “Good. In the meantime, I’m heading back to the Unit. The Iranian has sent me the plans for the launch. We need to prepare so that our own plan is ready in time. As soon as I have the details, I’ll give you a call and send relief. I need you by my side.”

  Gerrit jammed on the accelerator as he raced toward the hotel. It had been hours and Shakeela had not reported in. She didn’t answer her phone. He quickly dialed Alena. “I’m just pulling up to the hotel. Do you have her on the screen?”

  “Yes I do. But this is strange. She is nowhere near the hotel.”

  “Where do you show her?”

  “Southwest of your location and moving away. Do you need me out there for backup?”

  “Not until we know more. I’m going to see if she left anything behind. When I couldn’t reach her, I had Willy do a trace on her phone. He just sent the location and it’s here at the hotel. Somehow she must have gotten separated from her cell phone.”

  “That does not sound good, Gerrit. Maybe she has been arrested.”

  “That’s why I want to check the hotel, then I will start heading toward her GPS location.” He pulled into the hotel lot and parked. “I am going to try to locate her phone and then check our room. I’ll be in touch. Keep tracking her direction.”

  He terminated the call and walked through the parking lot using the locator Willy sent to his cell phone. Traveling the same direction he saw her take, Gerrit neared the hotel. She either turned and walked toward the front lobby or headed toward a side entrance. As he stood for a moment to figure which direction to take, he saw two men leave the hotel, both equipped with portable radios. By the way they walked, eyes searching back and forth, they were either cops or military in plainclothes.

  He dashed toward the edge of the hotel, where he could position himself out of sight while still watching the two men. Peering through the bushes, he saw the two men spread out and searched the area. They walked between the parked cars, giving new arrivals a hard look before continuing their search.

  As he turned to leave, Gerrit glanced down and saw two impressions in the recently cultivated soil at his feet. It was a woman’s shoe print. About Shakeela’s size. He rounded the corner to take the side entrance when he spotted a dark plastic object on the ground. Shakeela’s cell phone. She might have dropped it on the way into the hotel.

  Had she been kidnapped? Is that why she dropped her cell phone? He moved back into the shadows of the parking garage as the two men continued their search. Gerrit watched the two men slowly work their way through the outer lot before returning to the lobby. Once they were inside, he dashed toward his car and quickly dialed Alena.

  “I found Shakeela’s cell phone. I can’t tell whether she left it of her own free will or whether she has been taken. Leaving her cell phone behind tells me she might have been taken after a struggle. She still on the move?”

  “Yes, she is moving in the same direction as before.”

  “I’m in my car now. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.” He slid behind the wheel, propped up the cell phone, and hit the Speaker button. “Okay, I’m on the move.”

  Silence for a moment, then Alena’s voice came over the phone. “They took a road north of the farmhouse and began driving…just south of the town of Set Zaynab. They are continuing almost due south now.”

  “Okay.” Gerrit recalled every detail of his study of the map of this area. “Have they reached a place called Kherbet Al-Ward?”

  “Just passing it.”

  Gerrit jammed the accelerator. “Look to your southwest and find the little town of Al Horjelah.”

  “Got it.”

  “Have they turned in that direction yet?” He caught his breath, waiting for her reply. It seemed like minutes before she responded.

  “They just turned on a road that heads
due west. I believe…yes. It runs right through that town. Why?”

  “That’s the stomping grounds of the 4th Armored Division. Most of the division is up north near the Turkish border quelling the resistance in that area. The guys who snatched Shakeela are probably Assad’s secret police, but I bet they’re taking her to that division to…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. They had to get to her soon—before it was too late.

  “Keep me updated if they deviate from that direction. I’m going to try to catch up to them.” What was he going to do when he got there? Storm the military base and rescue her? He’d make up his mind once he got there. Right now, he must find out where they were taking her.

  Chapter 54

  “Any update?” Gerrit estimated he was about a half hour from the military camp.

  “She seems to be at a standstill, just outside the military reservation,” Alena said. “If she remains where she is, you should be able to see her once you arrive— Hold it, Gerrit. She’s moving again.”

  “What direction?” Gerrit pushed on the accelerator, knowing he might be pushing the limits of the engine. Alena did not answer. “Did you copy me?”

  “Wait a minute, Gerrit,” she said, slightly irritated. “She is…she’s going onto the military post. She just passed the sentry gate. You won’t be able to catch up to her. Unless—”

  “Unless I breach their security and break into Division’s headquarters.”

  “I am afraid so. Either someone has her in custody or she just lost her mind.”

  “Once I’m on the scene, I’ll advise.” He clicked off the connection and focused on the road.

  By now, the driver of the car Shakeela stole must have called the police. She would dump it as soon as possible, but she was irritated that her phone must have slipped out of her back pocket when she dashed toward the car getting away from Hanano’s men. Now, she must figure some other way to contact Gerrit and the others. She needed it to find out where Hanano was going. Lucky for her, that driver back at the hotel had left the keys in the vehicle when he went in to get his baggage.

  She must find a way onto that military post—sneak on board another military transport or ram the gates and draw attention to herself. Shakeela chose the first option but she did not have the patience to wait for a military transport to show up. She began to search for one. She last saw Hanano driving through the security gate and wind his way toward an imposing building that sat on the first hill beyond the security fence. A concrete building that could take a direct hit and keep on standing. No windows. Few doors. It appeared this was Hanano’s destination. She watched him park and go inside.

  On her third sweep along the highway that paralleled the military camp, she spotted a military truck pulled off to the side of the road. The driver jumped out and ran into a café. By the looks of it, the driver needed to find a bathroom.

  Betting the driver was heading for the same security gate, she jammed into the parking lot, leaped out of the car, and scurried to the rear of the truck, a two-ton monster with a camouflaged canvas shell protecting the bed. She peeled it back, saw the bed filled with boxes of ammunition, and slid inside, crouching behind several boxes between the load and the truck’s cab.

  The driver emerged a few minutes later, jumped behind the steering wheel and took off. Within minutes, she passed through security just as dusk settled. The truck veered to the left, away from the road leading to Hanano’s building. She glanced out the rear, waited until she was some distance from the security gate, then jumped from the bed as the truck slowed to make a turn.

  Leaping to the road, she rolled to break her fall and came up standing, thankful the truck’s speed had been drastically reduced by the curve in the road. Glancing around, she did not see anyone in the vicinity and began to hike up the hill toward Hanano’s building.

  As she got closer, she saw an obstacle she had not seen from below. There was a high-security fence around three-quarters of the building, along the back and left and right sides. To get inside, she had two choices—walk up to the front door and hope nobody was stationed inside, or somehow jump the fence and gain access through one of the windows or doors inside the enclosed area.

  She chose option two, hoping to find a way over the fence.

  Creeping along the perimeter of the galvanized cycle fence, Shakeela noted that rolled concertina wire had been strung along the top. Going over the top would be difficult. There were several large trees inside the enclosed area, protecting a green lawn from the sun during the day. One of these trees—an ancient olive tree, with gnarly branches and a contortedly twisted trunk—grew close to the fence. One of its giant roots had obstructed the path of the fence. Instead of taking their time to cut away the root to adequately anchor the fence, the workers had simply skipped a post, leaving the bottom of the wire loose and easy to push back.

  Lazy workers made her job much easier. She grasped the bottom and pulled, giving herself just enough space to squeeze under and come up on the other side.

  Once inside, Shakeela dashed toward the building and worked her way along the cold concrete wall looking for a way inside.

  She continued to circle the building. On the backside, she found one single door wide open, a metal garbage can—filled with sand and overflowing with cigarette butts—stuck in the doorway. A smoke-free building in this place? Maybe it was a rule set in place to protect sensitive equipment inside.

  Slipping inside, she closed the door quietly behind her. She listened for sounds that might warn her someone was close by. Muffled voices carried down the hall. She made her way toward the noise to see of one of those voices might belong to Hanano.

  The hallway ran the length of the building. The closer she edged toward the voices, the more light poured in. She got as close as she could to the sounds and saw the hallway opened into a large reception area. No one stood guard. Maybe the front door was locked and Hanano had the key. The voices came drifting up from a stairwell. She ventured toward the stairs and saw they led to the second level. At the top of the stairs, beyond a reception area, stood a gigantic metal door, braced open by a chair.

  Taking a deep breath, Shakeela started up the stairs toward the door. The closer she got to the top, the stronger the voices carried, although she could not make out the words. She must get closer. At the top, the stairs led to a second reception area with a desk on one side, and a number of file cabinets and stacked boxes on the other. As if whoever worked here seemed to be in transition. She made her way to the large metal door, apparently activated by a key punch on the wall to the left of the door handle.

  Standing at the doorway, one hand resting on the doorknob, she peered inside and saw no one. Quickly, she slipped inside and darted toward a dark room off the main passageway. The door to this room also stood ajar. She made it inside just moments before she heard footsteps echoing louder.

  Pressing herself against the wall, she waited for the person to pass. She hoped they had no reason to use this room. There was only one way out of here by the single door she came through off the main corridor.

  Footsteps drew closer. She caught a glimpse of a man as he passed the open doorway. Not Hanano. The man came to the door and kicked the chair out of the way, letting the door slam shut. He whirled around and retraced his steps.

  Shakeela froze, hoping he wouldn’t glance inside. The man continued down the passageway without stopping, and she breathed in relief as the echo of his footsteps diminished. Emerging, she glanced back at the door and realized the door could only be opened by a sequence of numbers punched into a keypad.

  She was trapped.

  “Gerrit, I lost her.” Panic laced Alena’s voice.

  “Just mark the exact spot where you lost her. The grid map should have the coordinates.”

  “Got it. Now what?”

  “I’m moving into the area. Follow my path on your computer and make sure I’m headed in the right direction.”

  “Okay. I see you.”


  He had his foot all the way to floor, the rental sedan bounced over several potholes, the torque almost yanking the wheel from his hands. He knew he was driving much faster than was safe, but he couldn’t help himself. Deep inside, he knew the faster he drove, the quicker he might be able to save her.

  When he neared the little town of Al Horjelah, he saw just how crazy his plan seemed. He read the Arabic lettering on a sign, pointing left, headquarters of the 4th Armored Division.

  “You’re driving too far, Gerrit. You’ve passed where I last spotted her.”

  “I know, Alena. Just passing the turnoff to the 4th Armored Division headquarters.” He jerked the wheel and retraced his tracks. Parking near the entrance to the military camp would only invite trouble. He glanced inside the camp as he drove by. One thing was for certain: Shakeela disappeared and he did not have a clue where she might be.

  Gerrit continued a few miles and found a dirt road, almost a goat path, winding up a mountainside west of where he’d lost track of Shakeela. He parked the car, grabbed his binoculars, and turned them on the military compound in the distance.

  He crouched beneath a scraggly tree, leafless branches reaching out as if begging for water. Leaning against the rough tree trunk, he used it to break his silhouette from those below who might spot him from base. He studied the barren compound, watching their patrols and sentries, looking for patterns or routines he might be able to exploit.

  Assad’s 4th Armored Division may be his best-trained elite troops, but their security setup was a joke. The worst maintained U.S. Marine compound would clearly outshine this sorry excuse for an Army. They barely had a perimeter fence, and several sections sagged, badly in need of repair. They weren’t used to keep people from breaking in.

  Fear kept most people out.

  Gaining access to this place would be a breeze. Finding Shakeela, however, might be more difficult. He saw several concrete doorways in the face of the mountain. He knew what those might hold—ammunition and ordnances in a series of tunnels deep underground. He could wander for miles in those tunnels trying to locate her. In the meantime, he’d have to fight off an unknown number of soldiers housed underground. Hundreds? Thousands?