DISCLAIMER: The AGENCY and all the usual suspects of it and of the King-Stetson family aren't mine; I borrowed them with love from Warner Brothers and from Shoot the Moon and thank them kindly for the years of enjoyment I've received from them. Everything else is a product of my overactive imagination; please don't use the ideas or characters without asking me first.
Chapter 8 * Tel Aviv, Israel * 3:25 p.m. (GMT+2)
Good, good. One has to love satellite technology. Syrian TV accepted the feed with no trouble? Ali was in an excellent mood; his extraordinarily well-financed operation was going well despite the idiot Tariq Agazi and the unexpected discovery of the burned car in Virginia; neither thus far seemed to have led the Americans or the Mossad any closer to him or to the operation. He spoke fluent French to his Lebanese contact.
Just as you predicted, my friend. And the woman did just as she was told. The boy, well, he's expendable anyway, so who really cares what he says? It was the older man from the air strip and the house, the man who had run the video camera just moments ago to tape Joanna and Jamie, the same man who had taken possession of the catalyst and formula for the destruction of Israel from Frank Palmer's contact.
I just wish we knew exactly who this young man is. Wouldn't it be wonderful if his father were a high-ranking government official? Ali's glee came through clearly.
It would. But wouldn't that change the plans a bit?
No. They will die if the Gardener comes. All the better if he is the son of someone powerful – for then will the mighty be humbled.
Atlanta, Georgia/CNN Headquarters * 8:45 a.m. (GMT-5)
We've got a hot lead on the Forest kidnapping! a producer screamed into the off-camera newsroom. Uplink from our Tel Aviv bureau from Syrian State Television.
Is it authenticated? the news director shouted back, knowing that he would be able to speak at normal volume with his next statement. Get me proof and then get me background and get us on air.
Thirteen minutes later, at 8:58 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, the three minute video of Joanna, Marlena, and Jamie was broadcast to the world.
En Route via Military Helicopter to Tel Aviv, Israel * 4:06 p.m. (GMT+2)
Dr. Forest, Lieutenant Colonel Marlowe, Miss Desmond? The Israeli co-pilot interrupted the rotor-beaten silence through their intercom headsets.
Go ahead, Lieutenant, Ian replied.
I just wanted to let you know, sirs and ma'am, that CNN just broadcast a tape of Ms. Marley and the boy. They seem to be okay, but Ms. Marley had to read a statement.
Can you patch us into a live feed? Andy asked, exhaling heavily.
I can try, sir. Just a moment.
Over the Atlantic Ocean * 10:07 a.m. (GMT-4)
Amanda! Wake up! Lee shook his wife forcefully. We've got live feed from CNN – the terrorists released a tape of Jamie! When her eyes opened, he pointed to the television at the front of the cabin. Tape of Jamie, he repeated.
Billy answered first. As soon as we see this, let's get people on it back in D.C.
Amanda whispered, reaching out to the screen, trying to connect with her son in whatever way she could.
CNN International Broadcast * 9:08 a.m. (GMT-5)
Once again, the tape you are about to see was delivered via satellite transmission to our Tel Aviv Bureau from Syrian State Television. Syrian State Television has promised us the original tape, which was delivered to an unspecified bureau through methods unclear at this time. We will be cooperating with the authorities both in Israel and in the United States. The anchor droned, building tension in a helicopter over the Israeli desert, a 747 over the Atlantic Ocean, an unassuming house near Silver Spring, Maryland, and millions of other places in the world. The tape you are about to see is of Ms. Joanna Marley, the manager of a Defense Department research program, her three year old daughter, and we believe that the young man is James King of Arlington, Virginia, although we are still awaiting confirmation of his identity. He looked directly at the camera. We will have expert commentary coming up after the tape.
The next scene was clearly amateur video at its worst; the quality never really improved although it did stop shaking after several frames, as though the photographer put the camera on a tripod. Joanna sat in a chair, Marlena in her lap; the woman read from a card over her little girl's shoulder. Hammedatha the Agagite strikes revenge on the Gardener and on the Great Satan and on the Little Satan. Many people will die tonight. Only the Gardener can save his lover and her child and the boy. Go home to the Great Satan, Gardener. You cannot save the Little Satan. We will finish the Great Satan too unless you go home. We have many things in place. We will take them away if you go home. If you stay, tomorrow many will die in the Great Satan. And they will die tonight – your woman and the girl and the boy. Be gone four hours after sundown and take your team with you. The ropes of the hangman swing for Mordecai's children tonight. Her voice was flat, her eyes dull, almost drugged.
Jamie's voice, however, was full of emotion. I want to practice Beethoven again so you can all tease me about the Pastorale's cello part. Mom, please, I really want to have a picnic like you promised down by the old cedars. Dad, opening day for the Orioles, you promised. Lee, Carrie, Philip, Grandma – I love you all!
A hand-lettered sign appeared, bearing a hangman's noose and an Arabic inscription. A voice said in heavily accented English, Four hours from sundown. We kill them at 9:45.
Over the Atlantic Ocean * 10:11 a.m. (GMT-4)
Amanda stared wide-eyed at the TV screen, willing herself to disbelieve what she had just heard. They are going to kill my son. In six hours my son will be dead. This is not happening. This is not happening.
Lee roused her forcefully with a shake of her right arm, knowing at least a little bit how she felt from all the times she'd been held hostage, and understanding a little bit because Jamie was his son, now, too.
Lee, they're gonna kill Jamie, she croaked hoarsely, a dry sob jerking its way out along with her words.
Not if I have anything to say about it. Did you listen to the message?
They're gonna kill him, she repeated, then realized who was in front of her. Her eyes cleared with purpose. The message. Jamie's message. Right.
Amanda, did you hear anything in the message that might help us? Billy asked gently from the seat on her other side.
I wasn't listening like that, she admitted with a groan.
It's okay, honey. We recorded it. You can watch it again as many times as you want to.
I don't want to watch it ever again. I need to watch it until I know if he's trying to tell us anything.
Billy stood up and went to the VCR beside the TV set, rewound the tape, pressed play, and closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch again; it spoke volumes about the woman sitting across the way that she could muster the strength to watch it once more, never mind the dozen or more times he knew would come.
En Route via Military Helicopter to Tel Aviv, Israel * 4:15 p.m. (GMT+2)
I need to see that, Ian said to Francine and Andy after they had listened to the audio portion of the CNN feed twice.
I want them back and I want the bastards who did this dead, Andy replied.
Francine said nothing, merely looked back and forth between the two men to whom Joanna and Marlena meant so much. For herself, she had to count Joanna as one of her best friends, even though their only contact since training, until this week, had been the cards the younger woman sent at irregular times – but somehow always when Francine most needed a psychological boost. Marlena had captured her heart totally when Dr. Smyth melted at the girl's ministrations. Jamie King, for all the time she'd spent with the Stetsons since the revelation of their marriage, was still a mystery, but simply because he was Amanda and Lee's son she cared deeply. Her concern must have shown on her face.
Francine, I promise, we'll get them back alive, Ian comforted her, patting her arm affectionately. We can't miss.
Why is that? Andy asked before she could.
Because we've got the best team possible – the three of us, Amanda, Lee, Mr. Melrose – and let's not forget our inside woman, Jo. And our supporting cast is phenomenal: the Mossad, the NSA, the CIA, and every man on the team.
If Ian was acting, it was a fine job; he was convincing enough that the pilot added his own promise. Don't worry, ma'am. You've got the entire Israeli military backing you up, too.
Somehow, the words did help her feel better, and by the time they touched down at the Tel Aviv airport a few minutes later, she could be all business again.
Over the Atlantic Ocean * 10:48 a.m. (GMT-4)
William Melrose pursed his lips as he listened to an excited voice on the other end of an air-to-ground call. While he and his command watch team had been busy overnight, so had many other dedicated teams of people up and down the New York-D.C. Corridor, with considerable success. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place along the edges; with luck, the interior would soon complete itself with little if any loss of life.
Lee and Amanda had watched the tape of the three hostages about 8 times since their first viewing, making notes each time. To Billy's practiced eyes, Amanda seemed to be on the verge of a revelation as she sat rereading her notes; Lee, as one would expect of the action-oriented agent, fidgeted beside his wife and looked put out with the whole notion of waiting for a breakthrough before plunging into a rescue mission.
Okay, great job, Sheridan. Any question as to the certainty of this information? Melrose asked of the man on the other end of the phone. Good. Keep unravelling from your end – maybe we'll get another lucky break. LAX is a big airport, but we can hope. And please pass on my thanks to the Virginia State Police – their work at the truck stop could be invaluable. He listened for a few more seconds, then ended the conversation with a friendly, See you soon.
Lee looked up from his seat quizzically, his hope for something to do evident in his handsome face. he asked impatiently.
Good news all around but nothing we can do just yet.
Lee responded, deflating visibly. What's the news?
Not wanting to distract Amanda, Billy motioned for Lee to join him in the next cabin at the command console, where he shared the news in a low voice. We've confirmed that Frank Palmer left JFK under an assumed name on a flight to LAX. There is no record of him leaving LAX under either his own name or that assumed name, so we're guessing that he left LAX, probably on an international flight, under another assumed name and possibly not on an American passport.
Well, that's certainly going to keep a few people busy in our LA Bureau. What else?
Billy smiled. The Virginia State Police have a solid lead on a man who had dinner with our mysterious information broker at a truck stop about 5 miles from the place her car went off the road. The description they got from several different people matches that of a man on Interpol's 10 Most Wanted List for terrorism.
Lee raised an eyebrow skeptically.
Really. No one is quite sure of his true identity, but he's known by the name Jikar Qitani.
And we have no idea where he went after the truck stop, I'm sure.
The smile broadened. Actually, a state trooper stopped a car matching the description of the car Qitani was seen getting into – about 20 miles outside of Herndon 4 hours after the confirmed truck stop sighting. The driver's license picture is a 95% positive match for Qitani. Billy reached over to the fax machine and pulled the still warm thermal sheet off, handed it to Lee.
Lee took the sheet carefully, stared at the composite sketch for several long seconds. Finally, he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He got on an airplane at Dulles and left the country shortly after the stop, no doubt.
Using a passport that matched the driver's license.
Lee punched the air with his fist in victory. We know where he went!
Well, we lost him in Frankfurt – the passport was used to check into a hotel, but it seems that the room was never used.
So he left Frankfurt under another name. I presume Interpol is cross-checking?
You better believe they are. There's something else you ought to know about Jikar Qitani, Lee. Billy made sure Lee was looking at him before he went on. Qitani was one of Adi Birol's original mentors, at least as far as we can tell. We think that he may be affiliated with the remnants of Birol's group in Beirut, or perhaps with Birol's original backers.
Lee paled at the mention of Adi Birol; watching his best male agent, Billy could only imagine the hell the man was going through based on the changing expressions that swirled across the white face. Sit down, Scarecrow, he commanded gently, guiding the man to a plush seat along the aisle.
I've got it! Amanda crowed as she leapt through the cabin's curtains into the command center. I know where they are!
Lee stopped midway down into the seat and straightened. Where are they, honey?
Lebanon – in a relatively rural area. She smiled, the first bright look on her face since the afternoon before.
Lay it out step by step, Amanda, Billy directed.
She did, catching exactly what Jamie wanted to convey with his reference to Beethoven. This part took me longer, sir, because I think JoJo had to help Jamie with it. See, we don't have any cedars in our area – but the Cedars of Lebanon are famous in the Bible. I remember telling JoJo that I majored in English in college, so she must have figured that I had taken a Bible as Literature class or something.
Lee took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, not in the least bit worried about offending the boss. You are magnificent, my love, he whispered heavily, a tear forming in the corner of one eye.
Billy looked away to give the couple a moment of privacy before he cleared his throat, demanding their attention again. Excellent work, Amanda. The CBW team should be on the ground in Tel Aviv now – I'll relay this to them and see what we can get going with Syrian security.
Amanda looked at her watch and did some quick calculations. All joy washed off her face as she realized that time was slipping away. Tell them to hurry, sir. We've got less than five hours.
CNN International Broadcast * 10:15 a.m. EST (GMT-5)
The grave demeanor of the CNN anchor told the audience that this was no ordinary Breaking News alert. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have an update now on the terrorist kidnapping of three Americans from the Washington, D.C. area yesterday afternoon. Joanna Marley and her daughter Marlena were taken from their car in a suburban neighborhood of Arlington, Virginia, at approximately 3 p.m. yesterday. A young teenager tentatively identified as James King was also abducted at the time. We have now confirmed the identity of the teenager as James King, son of Joseph and Carrie King of Arlington and Amanda King-Stetson and Lee Stetson, also of Arlington. Mr. King is the Assistant Counsel General of the Emergency Aid Organization, an arm of the State Department responsible for the distribution of American materiel relief to other countries. Mr. and Mrs. Stetson are both employees of International Federal Film, a small documentary film company closely associated with the government.
We extend our hopes and prayers for the three hostages and for their families; stay tuned to CNN for updates as we have them.
Somewhere in rural Lebanon * 5:23 p.m. (GMT+2)
We have changed our plans, my friend, Ali's voice said from the safety of his well-covered Tel Aviv business office.
the older man asked with surprise.
Yes. Have you been watching CNN?
No. The satellite dish lost power a little while ago. Sahar is working on it now.
Well, then you should know this: your third hostage, James King, is the son of the agents who put Adi Birol in prison in America.
Silence ensued; Ali could hear the other man's deep, even breathing as he processed this information. When he spoke next, it was with a slight tremor of tightly controlled fury. So, we will not kill them, but bait a trap with them?
Very good, my friend. We will catch the Gardener, and the Scarecrow, and Mrs. Scarecrow, too. This is a very, very good day.
Indeed. Inshallah...
Inshallah. I will call in an hour with more instructions. He hung up.
The man in Lebanon held the receiver thoughtfully for a long time before he, too, hung up the phone and went in to speak with his hostages.
Joanna knew as soon as he opened the door to the bedroom in which the three Americans had been locked that things had changed for the worse. She instinctively pulled both children closer to her, away from the hostile glare of their captor, and waited breathlessly for what he had to say. It did not take long.
You have been my guest for several hours. Allow me to introduce myself. The world knows of me as Jikar Qitani. My real name, however, might mean more to you – and if not to you, than certainly to the people who care about you, James King.
Jamie stiffened in Joanna's arms at the unexpected use of his full name. Suddenly, he was very glad to have a mother's embrace to protect him, even if the mother in question wasn't his own.
The man grinned terribly. I'm afraid, young Mr. King, that I have a score to settle with your mother and your stepfather. They put one of my sons in prison. You see, my name is Aran Birol.
The name meant nothing to Jamie, but Joanna recognized it. John had shot and killed one of the kidnappers in Toronto before another one killed him... For the first time in her life, Joanna was thankful for a deceptive practice of the agency for which she worked.
And as for the Gardener, well... the word hung in the air for three evilly gleeful chuckles, he owes me my other son's life.
Tel Aviv, Israel * 5:40 p.m. (GMT+2)
A young mother hurriedly tried to fill the last of the balloons for the Purim celebration her four year old twins were anxiously awaiting. When her husband suggested getting the helium tank, she had been dubious, but it really had been much cheaper than buying the balloons already filled and was much less hassle than schlepping a bouquet of the things from the market to the house on foot. The nozzle seemed clogged, though, so she took it off to try to clear it.
At her fading cry of pain, the twin boys came running in to see what had happened. Mama was whimpering and she wouldn't look at them – but now it hurt, and it was hard to breathe... Their screaming lasted for less than a minute, then all was silent in the house.
In another Tel Aviv neighborhood, an eight year old accidentally popped two balloons while her father was in another room of the house; the sound of the balloons brought him into the family room to find his daughter in a full seizure. He picked up the phone to call for help; he barely finished telling the operator where his house was before he, too, suffered a seizure.
The dispatcher called the medical rescue team, which arrived, kicked through the door, and became victims themselves. Only because one member of the team mentioned on the way out that it was unusual for two people in the same family to have seizures at the same time did someone at the aid station think about the terrorist activity warning issued before the weekend, but epilepsy did run in families,occasionally... When the first team did not report in after twenty minutes, a second team went. No one thought about the alert again until after the second team's failure to report in, which was unfortunate in the extreme. Had they done something the first time, perhaps thirty lives could have been saved that awful night in Israel.