Gunn nodded. “Have you been debriefed on the failure in New York last week?”
“Yes, sir. A poorly executed mission. The resource was apprehended, but he died of wounds before he could be brought into custody. He was a blind and could have told them little of practical use.”
“We will make another, more thorough effort soon.”
“Sir?”
“The information we obtained from the FBI — a break through their computer security — has proven very useful. We were unable to penetrate his division, however. There were some very significant security safeguards in place. But we were able to reconstruct the organization and obtain extensive information from other computers about all personnel of relevance.”
“He will be a much harder target now. There will be security on his person and place of residence, and he will scramble his travel and schedule.”
The CEO nodded. “Yes; that is to be expected. A harder target but not unreachable. They still cannot connect things to us, and our friendliness with the FBI allows us to steer the research into Gunn International and Operon, effectively slowing them down considerably. Besides, the list of targets has expanded dramatically. I think another strategy is in order.
“We will need more assets in New York,” Rout added.
Gunn sipped from a glass of brandy. “It would be better to bring in our mission units.”
Rout nodded curtly. “Yes, but we cannot bring them back for this mission without jeopardizing the other.”
“I understand. They are to return for the final mission training. We'll run New York with what we have here. The primary teams need to be fully briefed on the details of Ragnarök.”
“Yes, sir. You will oversee the transfer to Mexico?”
Gunn smiled. “Yes, personally. When the day comes, I will also see that ship launched toward its goal. I want to be there, close enough to touch the thing.” He laughed. “Consider it the closest I get to superstition. A blessing, if you will.”
Rout responded with little more than a raised eyebrow. “Understood, sir.” He then spun around and walked through the curtains back to his seat.
47
Stock markets in Asia and Europe fell dramatically as the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) announced today a full embargo of oil to Europe and the United States. These actions followed the latest in a series of brazen terrorist attacks on Muslim targets. These attacks, more than one a month across Africa, Europe, North, and South America, include the Great Mosque in Khartoum and the downing of an Iranian Boeing 747 that killed more than 400 people en route to South America. An organization, calling itself Mjolnir, claimed responsibility for these and a series of attacks against Islamic targets, releasing a statement and video announcing its intentions to escalate a war of terror against Islamic peoples and sites.
The recently formed joint United States and Europe Task Force on Oil (USETFO) issued a warning that oil supplies would be maintained by any necessary action, and called upon the OPEC nations to remove the embargo by the end of the month. High-ranking officers of NATO and the US secretary of state were present at the press conference, indicating to many analysts that the full force of the US and European military was behind the official statements.
The Russian president, visiting China on an emergency trip many have speculated has been related to the growing international crisis, issued a warning at a press conference in Beijing that foreign aggression in the oil-producing countries would not be tolerated and would be considered “an act of war” against all countries relying on the supply of oil. Standing beside the Russian leader, the president of China noted that US ships heading to the Persian Gulf were in violation of international law and posed a serious risk of “global destabilization.”
Mjolnir is being described as a “Western” terrorist organization due to its use of Nordic religious symbols and its stated purpose of attacking Islamic nations and culture. Muslim nations have demanded the apprehension of the terrorists and the cessation of attacks before they halt the embargo. European and American antiterrorist organizations have said that they are working diligently to stop the group, but so far have seemed impotent in the face of the escalating and continued violence.
Savas finished cutting the tomatoes and tossed them along with the cucumbers into the large wooden bowl. He quickly diced an onion and sprinkled the bits over the growing salad. Going to the fridge, he pulled out the large white tub of feta cheese, opened it, and cut out a medium-sized hunk that he placed on a plate. With his bare hands, he crushed the cheese into small morsels over the salad, washing his hands afterward. Finally, he grabbed the olive oil and spread it luxuriously over the contents of the bowl. A country Greek salad with make-do, store-bought produce. Nothing would come close to his grandfather's garden in Thessaloniki, where the bright Greek sun, the earth, and the green hands of a man who cared would always yield crops far superior to the products of agribusiness that landed in the supermarkets. But it would have to do.
He gazed outside the window in the kitchen, and, not for the first time, wondered when a coherent red light of a laser targeting scope would dart across his chest, the glass in the window exploding, and a bullet tearing through his flesh. The night was silent except for the muffled roar of a motorcycle and the sounds of Cohen showering in the next room.
He placed the salad on the table and returned to the kitchen to check on the lamb. It had a bronzed texture, so he turned off the oven and the oven light. The sound of the water faded, and he heard the shower curtain slide open. He resisted the urge to go see her. There was nothing sexier or more beautiful than a woman wet and dripping from the shower. Or from a rainstorm, he reminded himself.
Following the attempt on his life, much had changed — seemingly for the better. The investigation of his conduct toward William Gunn had ended, as enough of the decision makers at the FBI had decided that perhaps all this was not so coincidental. The cyber attack on the FBI had certainly helped his case. Once it was clear how much confidential information had been breached, an entirely new investigation into lax computer security had begun. By the time Jordan had obtained a governmental get-out-of-jail-free card, Savas was off the hook internally. But the relief was muted. He had a price on his head.
The FBI decided to keep a constant watch on both him and Cohen. This had at first panicked them both, as they thought it meant they would not be able to see each other for the duration. But it had turned out wonderfully once Kanter had suggested that it would conserve resources to keep them together at all times. This was something of a double-edged sword: they had a complete lack of freedom in their activities outside the apartment and the FBI, but a freedom from the constraints of hiding their relationship. Cohen had suggested that they hole up after work at her place. While the guards outside the room were a nuisance, they were finally afforded a strange sort of normalcy in their relationship. “Now we can finally go to work together, darling,” she had joked one morning. Yes, with the caveat that they go together with the hulking shapes of Agents Robertson and Smith.
Breaking him out of thought, Cohen walked into the kitchen, and once again, John Savas felt the complete power of her beauty reduce him to a small singularity that radiated only awe. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she had quite unfairly worn the “monkey shirt”—a tight number with a brightly colored monkey spread in undulations over her chest. Once, when they had walked through a park in late August, she had worn the shirt, and he had asked that night whether she had intended it to draw his attention to her breasts. She had laughed at him. “John, not everything revolves around sex.” He had tried hard to digest that one.