The 13: Fall (12 page)

T
he woman, dressed in a casual, stylish business suit, got out of the car and walked silently into the deserted warehouse. As with any meeting, she was fifteen minutes early—which, in her opinion, was on time. Punctuality was something she held in high regard. To be late to a meeting, she thought, was a slap in the face to your counterpart. Being late was as good as saying,
My time is more valuable than yours.

The first of the visiting limos—fifteen minutes late—arrived, two armed guards stepping out and surveying the area. Once they were satisfied they were alone, one of the men spoke into a radio and watched as the remaining vehicles approached.

Three more limos lined the curb, and several armed guards stepped out, all checking the area. Finally, a small, elderly man exited the next-to-last vehicle. He wore a finely tailored Italian suit, accented with a red Hermès tie. A gold Rolex rested securely on his left wrist. Fine, hand-tooled leather Italian shoes completed the ensemble.

After a short pause to check out the surroundings, the elderly man walked inside the warehouse. The woman was waiting impatiently for him at a small table, set with two chairs. He nodded to the other man and sat down.

“Mr. Chin.” She nodded.

“Ms. Smith.”

Ms. Smith leaned back in her chair. “I must say your people’s lack of punctuality is disappointing. I thought that with business and money being your god, you would respect its nuances.”

The man smiled a perfunctory smile. “Madam, I apologize for our tardiness. One can’t be too careful when meeting like this.”

“No, I guess not.”

“Then let’s get down to business, shall we?”

The woman nodded as Chin took his seat.

“Is everything in order?” Chin asked.

“Everything is as I said it would be. Do you have my money?”

The diminutive man turned in his chair and took the laptop from one of his men. He set it on the table and opened the lid. After a few seconds, a screen appeared that had a box in the middle with a waiting cursor.

“Just type in the account number and the funds will be transferred,” Mr. Chin said.

The woman carefully took her hands out of her coat pocket and produced a set of latex gloves. She pulled them on and brought the laptop closer.

“Can’t be too careful.” She raised an eyebrow.

Chin smiled and nodded.

She typed on the keyboard, hit E
NTER
, and scooted it back to the man. “So I guess our business here is done.”

Chin stood up and took the laptop. “For now, Ms. Smith. Good day.”

He gave a slight bow and walked back to the waiting car.

The woman watched as the small caravan of cars pulled away. She waited a few more minutes and then pulled out the disposable phone she’d purchased a month ago. She punched the numbers in and waited until it was answered.

“It’s done,” she said.

   CHAPTER 19   

T
aylor returned from the lavatory to the front of the plane, where she’d left Keene and Boz. More than anything, she’d wanted to give the men time alone to do whatever it was that macho former military men did when they obviously didn’t like each other and were thrust into working together. She’d been sure fireworks were coming and just didn’t have the energy to listen to it. So she’d excused herself.

What she found was a surprise. She had heard about these Gulf Stream jets before but had never been on one. The bathroom was ridiculous! It was nicer than her first apartment.

She sat back down and looked at the two men she’d left a few minutes earlier. They were both still alive, and there wasn’t any blood, so she thought that was good.

“You two have a nice chat?”

“We’re fine,” Boz said. “Aren’t we, Jon?”

Keene nodded. “All good.”

Boz undid his belt and stood up. “I’m gonna grab some shut-eye on the couch. Rule number one.”

“What’s that?” Taylor asked.

“Always eat and sleep when you can,” Keene said. “Never know when you’re going to get the chance to do either again.”

Boz smiled. “That’s right.” He stepped out from the seats and moved around to the back. “Wake me up if you need me.”

Taylor sat there for a few minutes, looking out the small window at the vast openness. She wondered how it was possible that this Prophet had been able to pull off what he did. The enormity of it was mind-boggling.

She really didn’t want to accept that this video was somehow untraceable.

And though she was a woman of faith, she shuddered at the thought that this Prophet could actually be what he said he was.

She snapped back from her thoughts and turned to Keene.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was coming.”

Keene looked at her with that blank expression he’d had earlier.

“Look, man …” she began.

“It’s all right,” Keene interrupted. “Boz is okay. I just don’t like finding things out like that.”

Taylor was taken aback. First time Keene had acted like a normal human being since she met him. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout my attitude, too.”

Keene sat up in his chair. “For better or worse, we’re stuck together. We have to work this, all three of us. I don’t know what we’re up against, but I don’t know that I can just buy into what he says either.”

“And what’s he say?”

“That this guy may be some messenger from God.”

“And why’s that so hard for you to believe?”

“Really? You, too?”

“Well, I mean, God has spoken to people throughout history. Why not this guy?”

“Seriously?”

“What? I’m a Christian. Why
wouldn’t
I believe that this could be happening?”

“Listen, Taylor. This guy’s either a terrorist or he works for terrorists. Probably HAMAS or something. We just have to figure out who. It’s that simple. And if he has information about an attack on our soil, I’m going to find him. And when I do, he’d better hope he’s close with God.”

Taylor leaned down and took the bag out from under her seat. She grabbed her laptop and opened it.

“What are you doing?” Keene asked. “Can’t get Internet up here.”

“
You
can’t get Internet up here,” she corrected him. “I, on the other hand …”

“Isn’t that, like, dangerous to the plane?”

“You can already get Internet on most commercial flights. If you pay enough. So no, it’s not dangerous to the plane, unless their navigation and controls are using encrypted satellites—which is what I’m about to tap into.”

Keene looked at her.

“They’re not using encrypted satellites. We’re fine.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m going to pull up satellite imaging of the area where Artie said the warehouse is. See what’s there.”

“All right. Well, I’m going to rack out for a few until we land. Wake me up when we get there.”

Taylor watched as Keene tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Within seconds, the man looked like he was asleep.
Must be a military thing
, she thought. And then she was jealous. It took her forever to fall asleep at night. She wished she could just turn it all off, like a light switch, and fall off to sleep.

She logged on to the secure satellite server and pulled up a handful of maps for the Chicago area. She had, in front of her, a detailed Public Transit map, one for street names, and then a satellite imagery map. She studied all three, trying to decide what would be the best way to approach. She also looked at the surrounding areas to see if perhaps she could pinpoint a couple places that the guy might use frequently. Maybe a Laundromat, some restaurants, local markets, and so on.

After forty minutes or so of staring at more than ten different maps, her eyes were burning. She was mapped out. She had some thoughts, but that’s all they were. Thoughts and hunches. She would share what she’d found with Keene and Boz after they woke up. She looked at the clock and realized they didn’t have much time left in the air, so she decided to shut it down and try to at least rest for a few minutes, even if she couldn’t fall asleep. But before she closed the lid, she decided to check her e-mail, since her phone was dead up here.

She opened the server and waited for the little blue line to move across the screen as her mailbox chimed. Three new messages. The first two weren’t anything. Just an online coupon and an invite from someone at the office to a coworker’s birthday party. The last one, though, caught her attention immediately.

It had a little red flag next to it, indicating that it was a secure e-mail, sent from an unknown sender. Always aware of viruses, she did a reverse check on the IP address and saw that it came from an Internet café in Chicago. Her pulse quickened as she clicked the heading to open the contents. Immediately the screen filled with the message.

She read it and then read it again. She quickly opened another secure e-mail. She typed her message with several exclamation points at the end and hit S
END
.

She took a deep breath and looked over at Keene. Definitely asleep. Well, not for long. She nudged his arm and said, “Hey, wake up. You need to see this.”

Keene smacked his lips and stretched his arms and said, “What?”

“This,” she said, turning the screen around so he could see.

Keene stared at the screen and read the first line of the e-mail.

Ms. Taylor, this is the Prophet. I understand you are looking for me.

   CHAPTER 20   

M
s. Smith pulled her Mercedes into the parking garage, showed her ID, nodded and smiled to the guard, and then proceeded to her assigned parking space. She repeated the ID process as she entered the building, made her way to the elevator, and pushed the button for the top floor.

When the doors opened, she was greeted by one of the secretaries, who told her she was expected and to go right in. She walked past the desk and stopped to look out the huge, floor-to-ceiling window; the city landscape spread before her. The tip of the Washington Monument could be seen reaching up to the sky over the other buildings. Such a picturesque icon of the American spirit.
Oh well
, she thought,
all good things must come to an end.

She continued on past the other desks and computers to the end of the hall. She knocked quietly on the door and turned the knob. Inside, another woman, sitting behind the big desk and talking on the phone, motioned for her to come in. She closed the door behind her and sat down. The other woman ended her phone call and turned to see her.