A/N. As you asked so nicely ...
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Chapter 8 – The Warning
The leather chair creaked as Mac leaned back grimacing at the barrage of voices coming from the speaker phone that sat on the edge of the large, slightly battered wooden desk. Ben Holland kicked the bound and gagged guard wriggling on the floor in the corner of the richly-furnished room with a guttural warning to be quiet.
"Is that Stella there with you?" asked Mac puzzled.
"Yes it is. Where the hell are you Mac?" came Stella's voice, a mixture of relief, irritation and urgency underlying her words.
"Sitting in Amir Benrisi's headquarters," Mac answered nonchalantly as he pulled open a drawer in the desk and rifled through a few documents.
"And who is Amir Benrisi?" spat Jo who was obviously in a similar frame of mind as Stella. Mac could hear her jewellery jingling from the other end of the line. Mac raised an eyebrow as Ben threw him a pitying look.
"See what I have to put up with?" Mac gestured towards the phone making Ben smile.
"What?" echoed several voices from the speaker.
"Er … nothing. Amir Benrisi, also known as Red Hawk99 if his email is anything to go by, is the leader of an al-Qaeda terrorist cell and the one that has been causing us all this hassle." Mac cast a glance at the computer screen watching the little blue bar at the bottom of the screen slowly fill from left to right. Little did he know that a number of glances were being shared by various members of the team clearly recognizing the pseudonym.
"Mac? Does this mean what I think it means?" Mac smiled to himself as Marty Schaeffer's voice boomed from the speaker. Jo seemed to be massing the troops on her side of the pond. "Don't tell me you're back in the compound?"
"Yeah ..." Ben shook his head and grinned at the disbelief in the General's voice. "It's Ben here Sir. We needed to get food, transport and a means of communication and this was … er … our only option." Ben looked at Mac who was looking like the cat that had got the cream as he had been right about the compound being only lightly guarded and probably the last place Amir and his men thought they would go. "Cocky bastard!" he mouthed silently making Mac smirk all the more. "Unfortunately it seems we may have a leak at HQ Sir."
"Yes I know that Ben and thanks to Mac's resident genius here we have identified the culprit. It should be a matter of hours before that particular leak is plugged then it will be safe for you to request extraction." Marty Schaeffer's voice quivered a little. "Is Davy there? Is he all right?"
"Marty he's fine. He's a little weak and tired but as soon as we get him out of here he'll be okay. We're bringing him back." Mac tried to keep his voice firm and resolute to reassure his friend thousands of miles away. Mac turned round as Hicks stuck his head in.
"We've got company. Five clicks to the south."
Ben ran across to the window and scanned the horizon. He could just make out a plume of dust. "Time to pack up and go. Are you boys set?" Hicks grinned and gave him a thumbs up as he ducked back out.
"Mac?" Jo's voice sounded slightly panicked.
"No problem Jo. We've got everything under control. " Ben threw Mac an incredulous look which caused Mac to grin sheepishly. "Stella did you stop the shipment?"
"Not exactly!" Stella sounded a little hesitant. "We've traced it to New York which is why I'm here with Frank Mitford and the team. We believe that they are targeting the Convention Centre."
"Mac, it's Danny. There's a Global Peace Forum starting on Monday. That has to be their target. Do you know what is in the bottles?"
"Danny listen carefully. It's a RDX based explosive. The bomb is primed when the base of the bottle is turned 180 degrees counter-clockwise. It will then only need a small jolt or shake to explode. If it is in proximity to other similar devices it will set off a chain event. I'm sending Adam all I can from Amir's computer which should hopefully provide you with further information about who's involved and what their plan is." Mac glanced at the bar on the computer screen which showed eighty percent. He looked up at Ben who was gesturing urgently towards the window. "I gotta go. You guys be careful."
"Us be careful?" Don's voice echoed loudly from the speaker causing both Mac and Ben to flinch. "Are you crazy? How exactly are … you … going to get out of there?"
"Don quit worrying. We've got it all under control. Big Bertha is on her way to pick us up and we've got a little … diversion ... planned."
"What kind of diversion?" Don didn't sound convinced. Neither did Jo whose jewellery was jingling again and Mac could have sworn that he heard a Greek expletive in the background.
"The Danny Messer kind."
"What?" came a chorus of voices from the other end of the line. Mac lifted a finger and positioned it over the 'end call' button allowing himself a smug little smile.
"Boom!" Mac Taylor's finger pressed the button as soon as he had uttered the word.
"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
"Crazy son of a bitch!" Everyone turned to face their usually mild-mannered M.E. in astonishment. "What the hell is he playing at?" Sid hands flapped wildly unable to believe his ears as he sat listening to the exchange. Evidently nor could Sheldon Hawkes.
"What exactly did he mean by 'boom'..." he asked staring accusingly at Danny as though Danny had something to do with it. Danny started as Sheldon glared at him and was about to protest his innocence when he realized that Lindsay was looking at him suspiciously too. "... and who the hell is Big Bertha?"
Much to everyone's surprise Marty Schaeffer leaned back in his chair and started laughing. "Oh believe me, it's better that you don't ask but trust me Mac and Big Bertha go way back! He couldn't be in better hands." Ignoring the looks being exchanged by Stella and Jo, Marty Schaeffer turned to Adam who was looking a little shell-shocked by the conversation not to mention flattered by the general's praise. "So Adam, that for me?" he gestured to the folder in Adam's hands.
"Er … yes, all the proof I can find that Lucas Mattelli was passing on classified information about the op to rescue your son … er … Sir." Adam handed him the folder and a USB stick.
"Thank you Adam. You've done a damn fine job. Now I am going to go plug a leak though it looks as though Ben and his team may not need HQ at all." Schaeffer chuckled to himself. "Who would have thought it? Big Bertha's still going after all these years." He tucked the folder under his arm as he rose from the table pausing to see Adam wave a tablet computer at Sheldon.
"Oh … er … Sheldon. I analysed that coffee stain. It is coffee but … I mean … really weird coffee. It's called Kopi Luwak. Apparently it's produced from beans that have passed through the digestive tract of an Asian Civet cat. Can you believe that they pay a hundred and sixty dollars a pound for this stuff? I mean who the hell would want to drink something that has passed through the digestive tract of an Asian Civet cat let alone pay a hundred and sixty dollars for the privilege of doing so?" Adam broke off as the entire room had gone totally silent and were staring at him strangely. He cleared his throat. "Anyway I … er … cross-referenced the list of people who purchased this stuff from the importer here in New York with that list of people with Marfan's syndrome that you compiled." Adam paused to scratch his head. "But what's really weird is that the names don't correspond but both the coffee and medication for one of the patients are both delivered to the same address ..." Adam looked nervously around the room as he realized everyone was hanging on his every word.
"Well don't stop there ..." Jo's hands waved in the air.
"Oh … er … yeah. I've an address of a corporate suite registered to Atlas Defence Industries."
"Atlas?" Marty Schaeffer's look of surprise spoke volumes.
"You know it?" asked Stella.
"Yeah, my son Davy, he worked for them until the Department of Defence cancelled contracts after the announcement of cut backs following the withdrawals from Iraq and Afghanistan. "
"What do we know about Atlas Defence Industries?" asked Jo. Lindsay, who was sitting nearest to a computer terminal typed the name into a search engine.
"Okay … Atlas Defence Industries is a multi-national corporation encompassing five sub-divisions. It covers everything from weapons casings and body armour to specialized armour plating for field weapons." Lindsay selected an option from the screen. "This is it's president and general director, Ambrose Atlas, taken several years ago after a multi-million dollar was signed with the Army." A photograph of a portly man with slicked back hair, expensive suit and that supercilious look that only the rich and powerful can convey stared out at them as he shook hands with a high-ranking official. A number of uniformed officers and civilians stood in the background and among them a face everyone recognized.
"That's Pierre Moreau." Jo stood and pointed to the man on the left of the picture.
Lindsay looked at the screen. "And according to this the man standing next to him is Rodrigo Cortès. Wasn't he one of the members of the Forum that Elsa Rossi mentioned?" Jo nodded, her hackles already rising at the name of Elsa Rossi. "Oh and get this, the man on the far right of the picture is Lee Chang, the man who was murdered in Hawaii."
"So does that make this Ambrose Atlas a good candidate for membership of this … Forum?" asked Frank Mitford.
"I'd stake my job on it," muttered Stella.
"Me too," agreed Jo. "Okay, Adam, let's go see what Mac has sent you. Hopefully it'll lead us directly to the explosives and the bombers before I have to call Sinclair and get him to cancel the Global Peace Forum."
"Yeah. Can't have him inconveniencing all those very important VIP's can we?" muttered Danny which earned him a playful slap from his wife.
"Danny!"
"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
The two military policemen entered the darkened operation's room ignoring all present and marched straight over to the young man monitoring the communications link. "Corporal Mattelli, please come with us," ordered the man standing slightly to the right of his chair.
The young man looked up and swivelled slightly in his chair. He swallowed as he saw who was speaking. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice sounding more nervous than he had intended.
"Come with us please. Corporal Highsmith will take your place." Lucas Mattelli looked at the second M.P. and knew he'd been caught. Removing his headphones he stood up and left his place to the confused looking young woman standing a few feet away. With as much dignity as he could he averted his gaze from the varying looks of disgust and astonishment from the other members of the team and quickly left flanked by the two policemen.
"How long till the satellite is in position?" the Major in charge of the operation barked. Corporal Highsmith quickly took Mattelli's place as everyone jumped to their posts. Hands flew to dials and switches ready to provide information as soon as it was asked for.
"Just coming into range now Sir."
"Good. Give me quadrant Delta Five. Main screen"
"Yes sir. Coming up in ten." The main screen flickered to life showing a jumble of pixels that slowly adjusted and refined until a picture of a desert like landscape began to form. The picture zoomed into a quadrant and again the picture fluttered as the pixels arranged themselves into a coherent image depicting a group of buildings surrounded by a wire fence. A cloud of dust appeared to be moving towards the buildings from the bottom of the screen. Corporal Katy Highsmith looked intently at the Major, her hand hovering over the phone in case the Major should call for action. The Major, however, was totally absorbed by the picture.
"How many do you think?" he asked the young fair-haired Captain standing next to him.
"Four maybe five cars. About twenty hostiles heading their way. Can we contact them?"
"Corporal Highsmith, have they turned their transponder on?" Katy Highsmith's fingers flew across the keyboard.
"No Sir."
"Looks like they still don't trust us." Major Todd Kensey rocked back on his heels in the manner reminiscent of one Danny Messer. "Not that I blame them." They watched in silence as the convoy of cars entered the compound. Suddenly every person in the room flinched as a series of explosions shattered the image, the picture breaking up into a myriad of red, yellow and white pixels.
Katy Highsmith's fine delicate fingers were clasped to her mouth in horror. All eyes turned to their commanding officer who, rather than appearing surprised, was reaching for his cell phone. Lifting it to his ear he waited for a second for the call to be answered. "Marty! What exactly was it you said your man was going to do?" He looked around the special operations team as his face twisted into a wry grin. "Boom? I guess that pretty much covers it." He nodded to the screen. "Yep! Looks like they're heading north." All eyes returned to the screen where a single car heading out from the compound was leaving a smaller trail of dust. "Sanders, keep an eye on them just in case. Marty I'll call you back if anything of significance happens but it looks like they have it all under control." He thumbed the phone and stuck it back in his pocket.
"Er … Major Kensey … should we call in … er … air support?" asked Katy Highsmith nervously.
"No Corporal, that won't be necessary. It seems they have arranged alternative transport." Todd Kensey smiled at everyone in the room. "Well people. I consider that a satisfactory result all things considered, hostage rescued, terrorist cell destroyed, team on their way home … we'll keep an eye on them till we lose satellite coverage but it looks like they managing perfectly well without us." Various glances were exchanged as they wondered exactly what kind of alternative transport the team had arranged.