Chapter 12.
THE FIRST STRIKE AT THE SYNDICATE
Matt had been home for a week when he was summoned to the World Consultation Building for a meeting with Hugh Heyman and his staff regarding the incident that took Katrina Dombrowski's life. Andy was there as well, recently returned from Langley where he had been in charge of the investigations.
"We have finished the investigations," H.H explained to Matt as he took his seat on the opposite side of the desk. "and we know now that there were no human errors involved, the craft didn't take any hits, and that the vehicles themselves cannot be classified as hazardous."
"I'm glad to hear that," Matt replied. "But then what caused the crash?"
H. H's face was stern. Matt was beginning to guess the reply when H.H. told him straight out.
"It was sabotage, Matt. Someone had tinkered with the vehicle before it was taken out on the practice range.
He left the word to Andy who could explain his report in detail.
"Whoever did it, knew exactly what he, or she, was doing. The computer was disabled at the same time as the rest of the craft, up in the air. I was surprised that she never attempted to eject when the aircraft malfunctioned, but it turned out that the canopy was locked into position."
Matt stared at his brother for several seconds. He knew precisely what this meant. H.H. however seemed more confused, and Andy felt required to elaborate.
"The canopy was designed to be unlocked by the computer if the craft was disabled." He explained. "This obviously did not occur. There are also manual overrides in case the computer would get disabled as well. That override did not work either. So, it was a deliberate sabotage in order to either get to Katrina personally, but more likely an attack directed at the Special Missions Force."
"So what was it that disabled the craft?" Matt asked. "You said yourself that it didn't sustain any hits."
"Someone had tampered with the microprocessors. It shorted out several circuit boards, caused the starboard turbofan to malfunction and disabled the computer. It can only have been someone in my own staff who did it. Nobody else had access to the vehicles or had the knowledge to tamper with them."
Hugh looked very troubled in his chair. His forehead had deep wrinkles.
"The Syndicate have obviously begun to see us as a threat." He grumbled. "They have never dealt with us so aggressively before."
"They want to make it appear as the vehicles are hazardous." Matt said with a certain tone in his voice. "You can easily imagine yourself how the likes of Sir George or Senator Brewster would react if we started to ask for funds to rebuild vehicle after vehicle that has been deemed dangerous by the commission of inquiry."
"They would promptly shut us down." H.H. agreed. "Do you have any possible solution?"
Matt thought it over for a moment.
"In a training camp like this, we are vulnerable." He explained. "It is too easy to get close to our vehicles despite the security arrangements. We need a confined base where only the team goes in and out. It will be the only way to make sure that things like this doesn't happen."
Andy interrupted him.
"I hate to rain on your parade, Matt, but you seem to forget that the saboteur was someone from the inside. Moving the team to a more isolated position won't eliminate the risk of new sabotages."
"I know. I was just getting to that. You should handpick a small team of people that you have worked with long and that you trust. With more people in the crew, the risk of infiltration is higher."
H.H. nodded his agreement.
"Yes. I think that is we're going to do."
"So, I take it that our training will commence?" Matt asked carefully.
"Indeed it will." H.H. confirmed. "There have been several new strikes committed by terrorists, probably at the order of the Syndicate, all at strategical points. Some locations were assaulted for their strategic military importance, others for their symbolism and the destruction of citizen morale. Groups of youngsters probably trained and financed by the Syndicate have systematically destroyed recreation centers and reconstruction projects."
"And the politicians are screaming for us to do something about it?" Matt guessed.
"Not really." H.H. confessed. "Actually, they are more in favor of the actions taken by Colonel Wolf against the Cold Store, contradicting everything that we work for."
"Do they really want to turn our cities into a battle zone?"
"I don't think that they realize that. They want someone to take decisive action. In the mind of the politicians, we are progressing to slowly. I have just come back from a meeting in New York and I learned that they are planning to initiate a second contingency program that is more military driven. I believe that I managed to convince them to wait until after the Peace Conference in New York before they start looking for alternatives. We must get a chance to get you operational before they cancel the program."
Matt wrinkled his forehead.
"Lisa spoke earlier about how the Syndicate might run politicians into the White House, do you think it's possible that they already have people within the high counsel of the World Unification Alliance?"
"There is nothing that can be ruled out, but we have to prove it." H.H replied. "Just because the politicians are favoring a tactic that would benefit the Syndicate doesn't have to mean that they are in their pockets."
Matt agreed, then turned towards Lisa Moore who sat at his side.
"Are the autopsy of the police officer complete?" He asked. "Did it reveal anything?"
Lisa smirked.
"He was effectively silenced." She confirmed. "The autopsy revealed drugs in his system. We are currently checking up on everyone who was in contact with him after he was arrested."
"Who performed the official interrogation?"
"Colonel Wolf." She responded. "Everything was recorded and there is a transcript in case you are interested in reading it."
Matt shook his head. He didn't believe there would be anything in it that the department hadn't already covered.
"Do you know if he talked before the official interrogation, and in that case to who?"
"I was the arresting officer." Lisa explained. "He was very tight-lipped and refused to talk outside the presence of his lawyer."
"And you have checked the lawyer?" He pressed.
"He's currently under investigation." She told. "We're not leaving anything to chance."
"Obviously, he must have known something since the Syndicate decided to silence him." Matt thought.
"They didn't know just how much he did know, so they took him out just to be certain." Lisa said. "It turned out that Wallace took notes on every talk he'd had with Harker. Dates, times… Everything. It helped us to reveal another suspected member of the Syndicate, one Jaime Francisco Carrasco. He has a history with both Harker and Osborne, is operating in Cuba and is one of the more frequent visitors to the cold store in Seabrook that we identified through photographs taken from the observation post."
"Yes," Matt recalled. "Helena told me that you were checking up on Jefferson Pratt, the owner of the Cold Store."
"We haven't been able to tie anything to Pratt, but we've traced financial transactions from Alexander Osborne to a company called Karexpo in Cuba." Lisa explained. "We are positive that the Syndicate is using the company in order to launder dirty money. We just don't know how they smuggle the money back into the country."
Lisa's words sparked a memory in the back of Matt's mind. He recalled his vacation with his family in Miami and the strange surfer. The clerk he had spoken to afterwards had revealed that the surfer used to come in infrequently, and just that day the surfing conditions had been excellent. Matt had considered that the man could have been smuggling. Was it possible that the man had been dropped off from a boat that had started from Cuba and that he smuggled money into the country?
When H.H. had concluded the meeting, Matt went into his office to check some figures. He made some notes on a piece of paper and walked out to Helena's desk.
"I'd like you to check something for me." He inquired. "Get in contact with the harbor-masters offices in Cuba and find out if there is a boat that only leaves port at these precise dates."
Helena studied the numbers carefully, before looking back up at Matt.
"Are you on to something?" She asked curiously.
"Just a hunch." Matt replied. "I prefer to keep it to myself. If I'm being arrested, your department can swear ignorance to my actions and claim that I was a rogue agent."
Helena smirked
"Cute, Mr. Trakker. 'As usual, if any of your IM force is caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions'." She quoted a repeated line from a famous TV-series.
"That about covers it." Matt confirmed.
She shook her head in bemusement.
"That's hardly regulation, but I'll see what I can do." She promised.
Matt took the elevator down to the garage. He had a few arrangements to make before he went to Miami.
A breeze laced with salt swept the beach. The sun was just rising in the horizon and pleasing songs from various birds heralded the morning. Occasional sounds from the Fountain Bleau hotel where delivery trucks were unloading their cargo mingled with the slap of ocean on sand.
Matt Trakker stared intensively out at the turquoise-colored water from his hiding place dug out in beach, trying to see beyond the large waves that kept whipping at the shoreline. At his side, Bishop spied the horizon after any sign of movements. Further up, hidden in the bushes, Bruce Sato looked for any vehicle that seemed out of place.
Four hectic days had passed since Matt's latest meeting at the World Consultation Building. Helena Bennett had kept her word and her preliminary investigations had revealed that a boat owned by Hector Vasquez used to leave its harbor in Havana at the precise same dates that Matt had pointed out. Further investigations had given the information that Vasquez was also the owner of Karexpo, the company where the Syndicate was laundering their dirty money.
Matt had decided to confide himself totally in the skilled secretary and she had arranged for the Cuban police to await the boat and arrest everyone aboard upon a signal from Matt if it did in fact turn out that it smuggled money.
After he had worked out his plan, he had contacted Bishop and asked him to accompany him to Florida. Bishop had been totally initiated into the operation and he had also suggested that a third part should accompany them to Miami to tail the car that was supposedly coming to pick up the surfer once he made land fall. They had decided to ask Bruce Sato.
They had driven all night and had arrived in Miami a few hours before dawn. Matt didn't want to check in at the Fountain Bleau for the risk that someone would keep the hotel under observation. He didn't know how well the agents of the Syndicate knew him, but he wasn't going to gamble.
Matt and Bishop had erected a camouflaged shelter that they hid under so no one passing by would easily discover them. The beach had been totally devoid of people though, except for one point when two pelicans had become rather curious at the shelter. Fortunately, they had soon lost interest and flew off to catch some fresh fish.
Like when Matt had been here previously, the surfing conditions were excellent. He believed that it was possible to reach land from a position far out in the ocean.
"There are some movements now." Bishop said, handing over the powerful binocular.
Matt raised the binoculars to his eyes and looking towards the position Bishop had pointed out, and sure enough, a man appeared riding on top of an exceptionally large wave.
"I think that's our man." Matt confirmed.
He thumbed a button on the short-wave transmitter he carried with him.
"Stay sharp, Bruce. Our man is coming in." He briefed. "How does it look at your position?"
"My scan is clear." Bruce reported. "No movements."
The men grew silent, watching as the surfer approached the bay. Matt noted that he was extremely skilled, and a sting of pity hit him that a man who could do well in any surfing competition would fall to a life of crime.
The surfer reached the beach, collected his board, and started to walk away from the water.
Matt and Bishop emerged from their hiding place and walked up to him. Because of the roar of the waves, they were almost on top of him before he spotted them. He was startled and tried at running back towards the water, but Bishop had circled around and blocked that route of escape.
"It's no point in running." Matt told him. "Come with us nice and quietly and it will be better for all of us."
"What's going on?" the man asked, trying to act surprised and angry at their actions. "There's no laws against surfing is there?"
"Drop the act." Matt said sternly and grabbed him by the wetsuit. "We know what you are doing. We know whom your work for and we know that you are dropped off from a Cuban boat outside the coast every month to bring goods into our country. We have kept an eye on your operations for quite some time now."
The last part was a lie, but Matt figured that it couldn't hurt to exaggerate. The man's feature changed abruptly. He realized that there would be no further point in denying anything.
"Alright." He said, shoulders slumping in surrender. "But you have to protect me! If they find out that I have been talking, there's no telling what they will do!"
Then everything happened very quickly. Matt had locked his eyes into the smuggler when he became aware of a warning from Bishop. In the next moment, the still morning air was torn apart by a shot from an automatic gun. He felt the man in his hands jerk as his body stopped the slugs.
Matt turned his head and looked towards the tree line. The killer was still standing there, the smoking gun in his hand. He was dressed in a black trench coat, and a pale, ghostlike ghoul with a drooping, almost dead eye, and a pallid, taut mask for a face.
"Cliff?" he heard Bishop call out in a mixture of identification and disbelief.
"Stay right where you are, and there will be no more deaths." Cliff Dagger said with a steady voice.
Neither man moved.
Dagger begun to back away.
"It's a beautiful day." He proclaimed. "Why don't you enjoy it down here on the beach instead of following me?"
He raised his gun and squeezed off several shots, forcing Matt and Bishop to drop into the sand. Then he ran up towards the parking lot.
"I hope Bruce is ready." Matt said as he looked after the running man.
They heard the motor from Dagger's car spinning and as the sound begun to fade away, it was followed by the thunder from Bruce's motorcycle.
Matt leaned over the surfer and begun to feel for life signs.
"He's gone." He determined.
Bishop in the meantime had checked out the surfboard.
He squatted by the surfboard and took hold of the fin. With a click, he twisted it and revealed that the surfboard was hollow. Inside it was stocked with money.
"It appeared like you were right."
Matt gave a satisfied nod, then he brought up his phone and got in contact with the Cuban police.
"The word is 'Go'!" he informed. "We've got the evidence we need here."
The other man confirmed and ended the very brief call.
"Now let's hope that Bruce will be able to trail our friend back to his base of operations." He said to Bishop.
Bruce Sato had been equally surprised at how fast things had happened. Dagger's car had appeared so sudden that he had no chance to warn Matt for the risk of being overheard. All he could do from his hidden position in the bushes was to watch Dagger as he walked down to the beach.
When he had fired the first shot, the one that killed the surfer, Bruce almost begun to panic. He could not let Dagger kill Matt and Bishop in cold blood. He was already dismounting the motorcycle as he heard Dagger's words, and with a relief he realized that the other was merely threatening them. So he remained on the bike and prepared to carry out Matt's orders.
Dagger started the engine on his car and rolled out. Bruce gave him enough time to get out of hearing range before he kicked the motorcycle into gear and drove after him.
Because of the early hour, the traffic was light, something that Bruce was thankful for, because Dagger was driving fast. At one point, at a straight stretch, Dagger had such an advance on him that he almost lost sight of him. Bruce pressed his engine to maximum and saw the car disappear behind a tight turn. He slowed down as he approached the turn, and it probably saved his life, because Dagger had stopped his car just behind it.
It was impossible to avoid a collision. The bike hit the back of the car and Bruce flew in a high arc over it, over a shrubbery and landed hard in the grass. The impact rendered him unconscious.
Cliff Dagger came over and checked him out. When he noted that Bruce was still alive, he slapped him gently on his cheek until he begun to stir.
"A word of advice, pal." Dagger said. "You're playing with the big boys now. You can't afford half measures. Tell Bishop and your leader that they will be the target now."
Dagger drove off and Bruce spent the next few minutes struggling to regain full consciousness. He needed another five before he felt strong enough to move. When he did, he walked over to a tree in the shadow and collapsed down with his back to it, spent. He looked up at the blue sky in silence, contemplating on the action that had just transpired.
"I sure messed up." He sighed.
Back at the bay Matt and Bishop was in the middle of a police questioning. The gun firing had been heard from the hotel and not even five minutes after Dagger had left, the police had shown up.
The crime area was now roped up, and the dead surfer was being taken away for identification. But to the annoyance of the police, Matt refused to let them have the surfboard or the money. He also refused to share any vital information with them.
"Am I to stand here with my arms crossed, not lifting one finger to prevent you from walking away with evidence from a crime scene?" The officer asked rather annoyed.
Matt held on to the answer for a few moments.
"Quite right." He confirmed. "This is part of a nationwide investigation, too large to be covered by the local police."
The police officer snorted.
"I forgot that you secret agents always have the situation under control."
"We prefer to refer to ourselves as special operatives." Bishop corrected him gently, which caused him to explode.
"All I know is that I have a crime scene with one man murdered and the assassin allowed to run free, and I won't even get to know what this is all about! You might refer to yourself as special operatives, but real cops have pride! Real cops shouldn't have that pride stripped away and have their noses rubbed in it by some special operatives who believe that they can make the police appear foolish and inept!"
"Officer." Matt said calmly. "You are being kept in silence for utilitarian reasons. Our enemies have ears everywhere. There are officers within the police force that are in their pockets and sells information to them. Evidence has conveniently disappeared. Witnesses have been silenced. Frankly, we can't risk leaving our best evidence in the hands of the police department."
The police officer searched his mind for something to say, rather taken aback by Matt's words, but he was interrupted by the arrival of a taxi.
Bruce Sato stepped out, paid the driver, and walked past the barricades up to Matt and Bishop.
"Sorry, Matt. He got away. He was a little faster than me."
He pressed a handkerchief to a spot above his eye. Matt checked him out.
"Are you injured?"
"Took a nasty fall, but otherwise I'm alright." Bruce explained.
"I didn't believe that following that car would lead anywhere." Matt admitted. "But it was worth a try. Let's return to New Orleans and have Lisa and her people check out what we picked up here."
He turned to the police officer who gave them a disliking look.
"If you manage to identify the victim, please forward the information to Lisa Moore at the World Consultation Building in New Orleans." He ordered.
In his exclusive office, the leader of the Syndicate received an urgent phone call from Ulysses.
"Our money transfer from Cuba to Miami has been exposed by the World Unification Alliance." Ulysses reported. "Field Operative Cliff Dagger informed me that he was forced to eliminate the traveler before he could be interrogated. He identified three agents of the Special Missions Force."
The leader snorted in disgust.
"The World Unification Alliance is beginning to interfere to much with my affairs." He said.
"There is more bad news." Ulysses continued. "The exposure of the traveler was not an isolated event. Obviously, the Security Department managed to uncover the origin of the smuggling operation as well, so while Matt Trakker and his men intercepted the traveler in Miami, the Cuban police raided Karexpo in Havana and Hector Vasquez was arrested."
"How come that you didn't know of this?" The leader asked, keeping his voice low and level, not letting his anger seep into the words.
"It seems that Trakker didn't go through the usual routes. I doubt that neither Heyman nor Moore knew about this operation.
The secured line was silent for several seconds, under which Ulysses believed that the leader was counting to control his temper.
"We need to make sure that Vasquez won't talk. Are Carrasco still in Cuba?"
Ulysses confirmed after a brief moment in which he verified his information on his consol.
"Then order him to deal with the procedure." The leader ordered. "As for Matt Trakker, I think it's time that he receives a warning, so he'll stay away from our business."
"I'll get in touch with Osborne." Ulysses promised.
"Very good." The leader approved. "And see to it that Dagger gets a bonus for his quick elimination of the traveler in Miami."
The following day, Matt, Bishop and Bruce arrived at the World Consultation Building in New Orleans. Carrying the money in a case, Matt led the way through the private entrance, passing through a metal detector. None of his two companions had any ID cards so Matt had to clear them by the security desk and have them fitted with a badge that read visitor.
An attentive staff member took the case from Matt and set it on a table. Matt opened it and begun to scoop out the packs of cash. A blue light scanned the money in three dimensions, and the cash was then bundled into a clear plastic bag, sealed, and placed on a tray that was wheeled through a series of barred enclosures into a secure room. He handed the surfboard that Bruce had carried to an attendant.
"Have this checked. See what you can get off it."
"Yes, sir."
The money, as well as the surfboard would be thoroughly checked for fingerprints and clues to their origin.
Matt and Bishop took the elevator to the nineteenth floor where Hugh Heyman and Lisa Moore waited for a de-briefing. Bruce, at Matt's orders walked over to see a medic regarding his collision with Dagger.
"Congratulations to the catch." Lisa beamed. "Although I find it rather unorthodox not to brief us on your operation."
"We believe that this interruption of the Syndicate's money flow could be very beneficial," H.H. said. "So I will forget this lack of protocol, but I must insist on that you involve us in your schemes in the future. We have people ready to smooth things over in case a lead would turn out to be a false one.
"I thought that the operation was rather delicate and riskful." Matt excused himself. "I didn't want to put you into any form of trouble if I had been wrong. I was told that some of the men at the top doesn't want you to investigate certain people, and I believed that Hector Vasquez and Karexpo was one of those who might have been under their protection."
H.H. motioned to the two men to follow him into his office. Lisa closed the door behind them.
"The exposure of Hector Vasquez and Karexpo could begin to stir up quite many nests." H.H. informed. "As you know, we begun to look at Karexpo after the Cold Store incident, when we traced money transfers from Alexander Osborne over to Jaime Francisco Carrasco, who worked with Karexpo. Carrasco has a background with both Curt Harker and Alexander Osborne, who are both connected with the Syndicate. It also turns out that Hector Vasquez and Jefferson Pratt has a close connection."
Matt nodded.
"Two important businessmen that both has known terrorists in their midst. Hardly a co-incidence. It will be interesting to see them squirm out of this situation."
"Pratt continues to swear his innocence." Lisa informed. "Vasquez is under tight guard but has refused to say anything without his lawyer present. We will await the result of the interrogation with Vasquez before we begun to press Pratt harder."
"It might be beneficial to check up on the companies under Pratt's and Vasquez closest associates." Matt suggested. "If Cold Store and Karexpo are fronting for the Syndicate, then it might be possible that their closest friends are also dealing with them."
Bishop carefully interrupted.
"A few weeks ago, I saw Colonel Wolf in a conversation with Cliff Dagger. Concerning the actions that transpired yesterday in Miami, it could be of importance to hear the Colonel in this matter."
Hugh looked at Bishop for several moments.
"Are you saying that Colonel Wolf has a connection with Cliff Dagger?"
"It might be only circumstantial." Bishop retreated carefully. "Dagger served under Colonel Wolf during the intervention in the Iraq civil War, and there is hardly any evidence of any criminal activity to have a conversation with someone."
"Of course not." H.H. agreed. "But Colonel Wolf might have some important information to share with us regarding Dagger."
"We will ask him to come in for questioning." Lisa determined. "We will also do a complete check on Cliff Dagger and see if he has any relation to the known members of the Syndicate."
"I will send out a note to reinstate the Special Missions Force." H.H. said. "We want the team to be fully armed and operational by the time of the summit in New York."
While H.H. spoke with Matt and Bishop, a car pulled up outside of the World Consultation Buildings main entrance, nineteen floors below. Lisa Moore could have given perfect description on each of the men sitting in the car. The driver was completely bald with a slightly drooping eye and taut skin. Next to him in the driving seat sat a tall and broad-shouldered muscular man with brown skin. In the backseat in a semi-recumbent position was a younger man with dark features and hair. Lisa would also have expected to find a fourth dark haired man with a shock of light on the forehead, dressed in ostentatiously expensive clothes, but this was not the kind of work that Curt Harker liked to associate himself with. This was Alexander Osborne's job.
Alexander and Cesar stepped out of the car and walked into the lobby, while they looked around without missing anything.
Osborne carefully instructed Cesar to stand guard by the elevators on the nineteenth floor, where they fortunately were positioned centrally and easy to keep under surveillance.
"I'll go down to the service center in the basement. Keep out of sight, but make sure that you don't miss him. It will be enough with one word in the phone. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly."
While Cesar took the elevator up, Alexander walked purposefully down the four half-flights made of concrete that led down to the basement where all the buildings electrical installations was surveilled – light and heat, air conditioning and the elevators. It was empty.
He quickly looked through all meters and gauges that controlled the different installations. After two minutes he had found the section that controlled the elevators. Once he had isolated the right boxes, he pulled out a small case from his pocket, opened it and grabbed a set of screwdrivers.
All elevators were controlled separately, and the system was of standard issue with a generator, engine, termination switch, counterweight, and double wires, plus the usual safety equipment that could shut of the power if required and engage the brakes. All electric components had a triple set of fuses, making it totally unlikely that the safety bolts to each of the elevators would blow at once.
Alexander screwed open the protective facing on all six-fuse boxes. Then he used a large pair of cutting nippers and severed the sealing on the six circuit breakers marked BARREL RELEASE – DANGER! That was placed over the rows of instruments and circuits. When those were switched off the barrel regulators, that controlled the elevators main cables, was disabled and the barrel could move freely. It was only maintenance that had reason to disable the barrel, and that was only when the actual elevator was closed and lowered all the way down the shaft, supported with a special buffer.
To release the barrel while the elevator was operational, should - unless special precautions were not taken - mean certain death to the passengers.
Within a few minutes all elevators were potential death traps. The boxes were open, and the circuits exposed and within reach for Osborne. In just a blink of an eye he could release any barrel he desired.
Matt and Bishop were dismissed and left for the elevator down to the entrance to meet up with Bruce.
While they waited for the elevator to reach their floor. Matt's eyes were drawn to a janitor who was busy emptying the dustbins.
The janitor was a young man with foreign looks, short black hair, clean shaved with a dark complexion. He looked somewhat familiar.
As the doors closed the man looked up and Matt recognized him instantly - Cesar Bonica!
Cesar immediately contacted Alexander Osborne via his phone. Alexander was standing with the screwdriver in his hand and his eyes on the fuses.
Cesar's voice came into his speaker.
"Number three!"
Osborne quickly removed every fuse from the number three box and shut off the switch that released the barrel.
Immediately all lights went out in the elevator, which lurched violently, and both Matt and Bishop was thrown up against one of the walls. Then it begun to fall down the shaft picking up speed as it went.