Black Dragon, page 15
“Could they have gone there as part of their investigation?” queried Jackson.
“Perhaps, but I can’t see a connection between the factory and the abandoned vehicles they were investigating when they disappeared,” answered Donaldson.
“Well, gents, I think we can draw the following conclusions from what we know,” said O’Reilly looking over at Jackson and Mitchell. “For reasons unknown, Sam and Cardinal are probably being held inside that factory complex. Or they could be already dead and buried somewhere in the Gobi and all we are seeing is the signal from their boots still emitting their signal from inside the factory.”
“General, I refuse to believe that they are dead. All they were doing was looking for some missing kids,” said Mitchell. “Why would anyone from Cypher Industries want to kill them?”
“I’m with Ryan on this one,” said Jackson. “Until I see their bodies, I also refuse to believe that they are dead.”
“Mike, what do you think?” said O’Reilly, turning to face his intelligence chief.
“I hate to make guesses without having first had a chance to review all of the available information, but if I were to hazard a guess, I’m with Ryan and Nate on this one. I also believe that they are alive . . . for now,” replied Donaldson ominously.
“Sir, Nate and I could be on a plane to Mongolia this evening if you give us the go-ahead,” said Mitchell.
O’Reilly knew that with or without his permission, Mitchell and Jackson would be on their way to help their friends the instant he left the room. Neither man would ever abandon their friends, not when they felt that even the slimmest possibility existed that they could get them out alive.
“Don’t forget, gents, Sam and Cardinal are my people as well,” said O’Reilly. “I want them both brought home safe and sound just as much as you do.”
Mitchell went to stand.
O’Reilly looked his youthful friend in the eye and told him to take his seat. “I figured that this would be the outcome of the meeting, so I’ve made a few arrangements. Yuri has been told to meet Nate in Ulaanbaatar. He will be waiting at the airport for you. I want you two to scout out the factory complex, try to find a way in without being detected. You, however, do not have my permission to mount a rescue attempt until Ryan has met up with you.”
Mitchell scrunched up his forehead. “What will I be doing, sir?”
“You will be flying to Hong Kong to meet Taro Satomi. He wishes to discuss his daughter’s kidnapping with you.”
“Sir, can’t this wait a couple of days? Each hour that we waste could bring Sam and Cardinal closer to death,” said Mitchell, trying to control his temper.
“That is why Nate and Yuri will be heading there right away to lay the groundwork for a rescue attempt.”
“Sir—”
O’Reilly raised his hand, and said, “Ryan, I’m not asking, I’m telling you what to do.”
Seeing the mood in the room turn tense, Nate gently placed his hand on Mitchell’s arm and gave it a slight squeeze. “Sir, with all due respect, I’m just as baffled as Ryan. Why does he have to go to Hong Kong?”
“Mister Satomi’s request didn’t come through the normal channels,” explained O’Reilly. “An old friend of mine who runs a company like ours in Japan gave me a call this morning. It would appear that Taro Satomi reached out to my friend and requested that he arrange a meeting between himself and Ryan in a secure location outside of Japan. Mister Satomi believes that he is under surveillance by the people who staged Atsuko’s kidnapping.”
“Sir, what good will this do?” said Mitchell.
“My friend said that Mister Satomi has information regarding his daughter, and that he will only divulge it to Ryan, and I want that information.”
Jackson turned to look at Mitchell. “So you’ll be a day or so behind us. That’s no problem. We’ll have it all figured out for you, so you can take all the credit for the mission when you arrive.”
For a minute, Mitchell seriously debated disobeying O’Reilly and heading to Mongolia with Jackson. He knew that Jackson was right, it would take at least a day or two to figure out a successful way in and out of the complex; he just hated not being on the ground with his compatriots from the beginning to the end of the operation. Seeing the firm look in his mentor’s eyes, Mitchell knew that he had to do as he was told, no matter how much it galled him.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Mitchell looked over at O’Reilly and said, “When do I fly?”
“You’re booked on United; it’s a non-stop flight. You leave later tonight. Tammy will be able to brief you on all your travel arrangements after this meeting. Same goes for you, Nate.”
With that, O’Reilly stood, as did everyone else in the room. “Gents, do what you must, I want my people brought home alive.”
The message was clear. The normal rules of engagement had just been thrown out the window.
A second later, O’Reilly left the room, trailed by Donaldson.
A scowl crept across Mitchell’s face as he looked over at Jackson. “Just what do you mean when you said I’d show up just in time to take the credit?”
“Hey, you’re an ex-officer, it’s what you’re good at,” said Jackson with a smile on his face.
“Come on, let’s see what Tammy has for us,” said Mitchell, shaking his head at his friend’s last remark.
“You know, Ryan, I don’t know why you antagonized the boss like that. After you tell Jen that you’re leaving later tonight, you’ll only have me left in your ever-shrinking circle of people who aren’t pissed off at you.”
Mitchell groaned. Jackson was right. He was supposed to take Jen out for dinner tonight. As he walked, his mind switched into high gear, wondering how he was going to break the bad news while still staying in Jen’s good books.
19
Cypher Factory Complex
Gobi Desert, Mongolia
The irritating buzzing noise coming from one of the fluorescent light bulbs flickering on and off in the poorly lit room was beginning to grate on Sam’s nerves. They had been held in the same room for close to three days. Aside from regular meals provided for them by their Mongolian guards, Sam and Cardinal had not seen nor spoken to anyone since their capture in the desert. In their spartan room were two old army-issue cots, a rickety wooden table with two folding chairs, and a small toilet with a stainless steel sink in the corner.
Blindfolded before being brought inside the complex, they were helped into an elevator that descended several floors beneath the surface. It was hard to judge, but Cardinal was certain that they had gone down at least a dozen floors. First, they were taken to a long room that looked as if it hadn’t been used in decades. Dust covered everything. A yellowing poster on the wall showed Karl Marx urging Mongolia to aid the USSR in defeating the Imperialist Japanese. Ordered by their guards to strip down, they were taken to another room down the empty hallway where they were told to take a shower. Sam cursed and swore away as the water coming out of the pipes was the color of rust and freezing cold. When they came out of the shower, they found that all of their clothes were gone and that ill-fitting and uncomfortable dull-gray coveralls and sandals had been left for them to change into.
Cardinal lay on his cot with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I wonder what they will bring for supper tonight.”
“You can be assured that it will either be pork or yak spiced up until it is too hot to eat, with a generous helping of rice,” said Sam as she paced the room. Unlike Cardinal, who could relax anywhere, she was used to being active. Being cooped up in their room was driving her to distraction. She could only walk so much before she felt like screaming at the door for someone to let her out.
“Sam, you should really sit down. You’re going to wear your cheap plastic sandals out, and I doubt that there is a nearby store for you to buy some more.”
“I can’t! If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m thinking of tunneling our way out of here to the surface.”
“Good luck with that.”
Sam stopped her pacing and turned to look over at Cardinal. “How can you lay there so calmly? I don’t have a good feeling about what is going on. Why hasn’t someone come to interrogate us? I don’t relish the idea of being held here indefinitely.”
Cardinal sat up. “Sam, my love, both of us pacing back and forth like caged animals won’t help. Like you, I don’t like the idea of being stuck down here in this room any more than you do, but there is nothing we can do about it. I am sure that General O’Reilly is already badgering the State Department to have us released. It is only a matter of time before we are on our way back home.”
Sam pulled out a chair and then begrudgingly sat down. “I hope you’re right. I don’t think I can take another day down here.”
The sound of voices talking just outside their door made Sam and Cardinal turn their heads and look at the door. A key was inserted in the lock. A second later, the door was pushed open. Standing in the doorway was a short, broad-chested Mongolian guard wearing a couple of military-style gold stars on the collar of his dark gray uniform. Behind him were two more guards, their hands wrapped firmly around their AK-47s.
“You . . . you come with me,” said the officer in halting English.
Sam saw the serious expressions on the guards’ faces and grew nervous. Until now, all she had wanted was the door to be opened so she could leave the room; now she wasn’t so sure.
Cardinal took Sam’s hand and together they stepped out into the hallway. Falling into line behind the short officer, they walked in silence until they came to the elevator. The thought of trying an escape flashed into Cardinal’s mind as they waited for the elevator doors to open. He didn’t doubt that between him and Sam that they could overpower their guards before they knew what was happening. The problem was that he had no idea where they were or how many armed guards there were between them and freedom. He decided to wait until another opportunity presented itself and squeezed Sam’s hand when the doors to the elevator slid open. He looked over at the buttons beside the elevator doors, saw that they were in Cyrillic, and numbered fifteen floors. They were deeper in the bowels of the earth than he had originally thought.
A minute later, they stopped on the third floor. Following their guards, they made their way down a brightly lit hallway. They stopped outside of a closed door. The short officer knocked on the door.
A voice called out in English.
The door opened. Right away, Sam and Cardinal were pushed inside the room by their guards.
Resisting the urge to swing about and clobber their guards, Sam took a breath and looked around. She was surprised to see how clean and modern the room looked compared to their cell. Several wall-mounted TVs were on, showing the latest news and stock market results from all around the globe. In the middle of the room were two dark green leather seats that faced a long wooden desk made from teak. Sitting quietly behind the desk was a man dressed in a smart-looking, light-gray suit with a matching shirt and black silk tie. He had short blond hair with a sickly pale complexion on his narrow face. Lying on the table were Cardinal and Sam’s 9mm pistols. Looking at the man, Sam guessed that he was in his mid-thirties. His ice-blue eyes fixed on Sam and then Cardinal, as if studying them like a shark before devouring its prey.
“Please take a seat,” said the man, indicating the leather chairs in front of his desk.
“Why not,” said Cardinal, trying to decide if the blonde-haired man’s accent was French or Swiss.
“I must compliment you on your choice of Sig-Sauer 9mm pistols. A well-made and deadly weapon in the hands of a trained marksman,” said the blonde-haired man, balancing one of the pistols in his hand.
“I like it,” replied Cardinal, deciding that the man was Swiss.
The man looked at the officer and said, “Leave Sergeant Temuujin in the room. You can wait outside. I’ll call you when I need you.”
With that, a muscle-bound sergeant with cold, unforgiving eyes took a post by the door while Sam and Cardinal sat down. Laid out on the floor in front of the chairs were their gas masks and chemical agent detectors. Sam and Cardinal both cringed inside when they saw their boots. The heels had been ripped off. Their small GPS locators sat beside them.
“I can see from the look on your faces that you didn’t expect us to find your tracking devices. Please, you should give my people and me some credit. To use a North American colloquialism, this isn’t some fly-by-night operation. Now, before we get down to business, can I offer either of you a drink?” said the blonde-haired man as he walked over to a liquor cabinet on the far side of the room.
“Nothing for me,” said Sam.
“I’ll have a Scotch on the rocks, if you don’t mind,” said Cardinal, trying to sound calm while inside, his heart was racing. Their one hope for rescue lay on the tiled floor of the office for all to see.
“Myself, I’m always partial to Cognac in the afternoon,” said the man, pouring the drinks. He handed Cardinal his drink and then took a seat behind his desk.
“How do you find the Scotch? Is it to your liking?” asked the blonde-haired man.
Cardinal took a sip. He felt the amber liquid burn as it slid down his throat. “Yes, thank you, it’s more than acceptable, considering our circumstances.”
“I’m glad that you like it. I suppose that I should introduce myself, my name is Gabriel Cypher,” said the man, lifting his drink in greeting.
“Please to meet you,” said Cardinal. “My name is Gordon Cardinal and my friend’s name is—”
“Samantha Chen,” said Cypher with a grin on his face, “a former U.S. Army medic, who, like you, Mister Cardinal, is now a member of Polaris Operations, a private security company that has world-wide connections. My security people used the latest in facial recognition software to identify you when you were brought in. I have reviewed both your files and you are to be commended on your work. I was particularly impressed with your work in the Philippines last year.”
“And what organization might you represent?” asked Sam.
“Cypher Industries, naturally.”
Cardinal thought about it for a moment and then snapped his fingers in the air. “I know you guys. Cypher Industries is Switzerland’s largest arms manufacturer. I've tried several of their sniper rifles over the years.”
“Hope they were to your liking.”
“They were okay. I still prefer the Barrett.”
“A fine weapon, but we are developing a new .50 caliber sniper rifle that will go into production next year that may be more to your liking. I should also point out that we are the second-largest manufacturer of arms in all of Europe,” added Cypher proudly.
“If you’re from Cypher Industries, then what on earth are we doing inside what I can only assume is a long-abandoned, World War Two-era Soviet military facility?” said Cardinal.
“You have a sharp eye, Mister Cardinal.”
“The poster of Marx downstairs and the unmistakably drab Soviet style of engineering are a bit of a dead giveaway.”
“What I am doing here is none of your business. What I want to know is why you were both caught sneaking about in the middle of the night inside an abandoned vehicle storage facility guarded by the Mongolian military.”
Sam said, “We were tasked by our boss to find out what happened to two missing grad students. We accidentally stumbled across their abandoned Rover out there in the desert and decided to see if we could learn anything about what had happened to them by looking through their vehicle.”
“Then why the gas masks and chemical agent detectors?” asked Cypher.
“After I spotted a Mongolian armored car configured for chemical agent monitoring, I assumed that there had been a leak from an old munitions depot somewhere out in the desert. So I asked our people to send us the gear so we wouldn’t become casualties when we went back to take a look at the abandoned Rover,” explained Cardinal.
Cypher smiled. “Well, at least my cover story is working. I hope the Mongolian Army’s activities in the desert will discourage more people from poking their noses about where they don’t belong.”
“Mister Cypher, we both know that there isn’t a chemical leak, so why the charade of having us take a shower when we arrived?” said Sam.
“Oh, that. It’s for the Mongolian soldiers’ benefit. They actually believe that there has been a spill from an old undisclosed Soviet arms depot in the desert. The operation is highly top secret; not even the local formation commander has any inkling of what is going on out here in the desert. If he did, I suspect that he’d roll in here with a regiment of tanks to shut me down in a heartbeat. The soldiers you have seen to date work for a man with a huge gambling problem. I pay off his debts and in return, he does me the occasional favor,” explained Cypher.
“Like pretend that there is a chemical leak in the desert,” said Cardinal.
“Precisely.”
“Since we seem to be your guests, if you don’t mind me asking, do you know what happened to the two missing students?” said Sam.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know exactly what happened to them. Since neither of you are leaving this complex alive I can tell you that they unfortunately, along with about seventy other people, died when the device I was testing here had a slight technical malfunction.”
“What device?” asked Cardinal, digging for answers.
“Mister Cardinal, no offense but I doubt that you or Miss Chen would understand the science behind the manipulation of tectonic energy,” replied Cypher. “Now, enough polite conversation. I want to know precisely what information you sent back to your friends in the States and what will happen when you are listed as missing. I warn you not to play dumb with me. I have no doubt that your people know your present whereabouts due to the tracking devices that were hidden in your boots, and I don’t want to be surprised by any more unwanted visitors poking their noses in where they are not welcome.”
