Chapter 62

  Forty-five minutes after the meeting ended, Jesse pulled his SUV onto a private wooded road just north of Dulles International. He wasn’t happy with the information that Clayson had given him. However, he had no alternative and had to agree to his terms. He was using Shawn as bait, and he didn’t like it. He soon approached the security checkpoint that would let him gain entrance to the former airport utility building complex that now served as BJXXI Inc.’s base of operations. The complex contained a small office building and two large hangers, all surrounded by a high, razor-wired fence. Jesse was cleared through the checkpoint and proceeded directly to his designated parking spot at the front of the office building, which was drab and non-descript, but it served its purpose. The private enterprise was solely owned by two men who hired only the most highly skilled men to carry out their missions. Although no man in the company would ever appear before a Senate hearing and their probing questions, the land and buildings were paid for largely with taxpayer dollars.

  Jesse entered the building and entered his ID card and security code at the main entrance. He was greeted by a very attractive woman seated behind a reception desk with a wave of her hand. She was talking on the phone at the time. The lobby was much like any business lobby. A seating area consisted of various potted plants, two comfortable chairs, a sofa, and a coffee table with a fresh-cut flower arrangement. The woman behind the desk insisted on the flowers. It was the only thing feminine about the whole building in an otherwise man’s world.

  “Good morning, Mr. Taylor.” The woman said cheerfully, covering the mouthpiece.

  Jesse smiled and said softly, “Good morning, Cara.”

  Covering the mouthpiece again, Cara said, “I’m fine; Jack’s waiting for you, sir.”

  Jesse nodded and moved on.

  Jesse was pleased that she was on a phone call. Usually, he made time to talk with the flirtatious redhead, but not today. He would have been there for a long time if he had told her about what had happened to General Bennett, and time was a luxury he didn’t have.

  Tall and fit, Cara Connor was in her mid-forties with short red hair, a spattering of freckles under her brilliant green eyes, and a cute little nose. She was also divorced. Her husband had divorced her when he found out that she couldn’t have children. Jesse had hired her the previous year and she had fallen in love with him almost immediately. Everyone in the building knew where it would lead, everyone but Jesse. He wasn’t clueless about her affections, but he still wasn’t over the death of his wife, and he had too much on his plate.

  Jesse went through one door and then came to another marked “Secure Area; Official Personnel Only.” It was more like a bank vault than a door, a bank vault with a biometric authentication security system. A retina scanner and voice pattern analyzer were positioned next to the door. Jesse stated his name and placed his forehead so his eyes were directly in front of the retina scanner. A soft female voice said, “You are cleared to enter, Major Taylor,” at the same time, he heard the door locking mechanism release the bolt. Jesse opened the door and stepped inside the main control area, where a small group of men and women were working. Twenty large, flat-screen monitors filled the walls, displaying live satellite feeds of up-to-the-minute events happening around the globe. Some were sitting behind computer monitors and hacking into secure systems, while others were monitoring active terrorist websites. Jesse was the deputy director and answered to only one man, General Jackson.

  The first man that Jesse walked up to was Jack Harding, his best logistical planner. Jack was the man Jesse called before his meeting at Langley. He had given him all the basic parameters for the operation and left him to do his job.

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  “Were you able to pull some men?” Jesse asked hopefully.

  “Hunt and Eastling called in, and they’re just finishing up their op in Syria. I told them what you wanted them for, and they’re eager to assist you. You also have Ken Jackson, who just came off of his shoulder injury. The doc says he’s good to go.”

  “Good, now tell me what you came up with.”

  Jack brought up a map of Southeast Asia and zoomed in on Phuket. He then expanded the view and pointed to a small group of islands in the Straits of Malacca on the Thai-Malaysia border, the largest one showing an international airport. Jack zoomed in closer and revealed the name of the island. He right-clicked on the airport, and a full description popped up and revealed all the up-to-date information on the airport, the current U.S. status with Malaysia, and contact information.

  Without looking at Jesse, Jack said, “We have a small resort island in Malaysia just 140 nautical miles southeast of Phuket, and it has an International Airport with a 1250-foot runway.”

  Jesse looked at the screen and said, “Langkawi?”

  “Affirmative, Sir,” Jack said while typing another command on his keypad. The board lit up with current vessels in the Straits of Malacca. Several had small flags over the ships, and he clicked on one close to the island of Penang, just 65 nautical miles south of Langkawi. “We currently have a Panamanian-flagged cargo vessel operating 125 miles due south of Langkawi. It’s a U.S. decoy ship monitoring Indonesian and Malaysian pirates in the Straits of Malacca. The ship is part of a joint venture between the U.S., Singapore, and Malaysian governments to curb piracy in that region. I talked with the Captain and learned that they had just concluded their operations in the straits and were heading to the Horn of Africa to set up shop there. Captain O’Keefe has agreed to have his ship at your disposal for as long as you need it, but he wants it in writing from the CIA or NSA director. And the best part is the ship is equipped with two helicopters and several high-speed zodiacs.”

  Jesse smiled at the man and said, “Good job, Jack, I’ll put a big bonus on your next check.”

  Jack let out a short laugh and said, “Yeah, right; I won’t hold my breath.”

  Jesse was delighted to learn that his best two field operatives, Greg Hunt and Aaron Eastling, had finished their operation in Syria. He issued orders for them to meet up with him in Langkawi the following day. Less than an hour later, Jesse and Ken were heading for Malaysia aboard the company’s Gulfstream G650, which had a cursing speed of just under Mach 1. Because of the tensions over Russian airspace, Harding plotted a course where they could refuel at Elmendorf AFB in Anchorage before continuing non-stop to Langkawi. Just after leaving the Elmendorf airfield, Jesse learned that due to engine problems, Hunt and Eastling’s plane had been forced to land in Qatar in the Persian Gulf. Jesse just hoped they could rectify the problem or make other arrangements to meet with them.

  Shortly after 3:00 pm local time, the wheels of the private jet touched down at Langkawi International Airport. Jesse and Ken arrived on the island fifteen hours after leaving Washington, D.C. They had covered over 9700 miles and passed through thirteen different time zones. As they were about to disembark the plane, Jesse’s phone rang, and he closed the updated file on Ivan Rakov that he had been reading and took the call from Tim Jennings. He was informed that the nursing home administrator had positively ID’d one of the men that Bennett had killed as the man who posed as the VA caseworker. He also found out that the two men had been identified. They were former MI6 agents who had been charged with the theft of a large quantity of gold bullion that was seized from a drug lord. Apparently, two other agents were involved with them, but the case against them was dropped when the prosecution’s star witness disappeared without a trace. All four men then left England and disappeared. He was also informed that all the resources had come up empty on Harris. If Shawn was in Phuket, he wouldn’t be using his real name. Also, the grainy 1971 black and white photo of Shawn hadn’t turned up anything yet.

  After exiting the Gulfstream, Jesse and Ken walked to a waiting Westland Lynx helicopter, and as prearranged, they easily bypassed the Malaysian immigration security officials who had been paid to look the other way. The Lynx was one of the world’s fastest helicopters, and Jesse and Ken were transported to the rusted cargo freighter, “The Maltese Falcon,” now just fifteen nautical miles southwest of Phuket.