In his years as an NTSB investigator, Jake had never encountered a cabin configuration like this one, certainly none with bunks.
Jake looked at Wiley. “Looks like the toy making business is very lucrative, how old is your Citation?”
“I bought this one new three years ago. Then it went to the shop for the retrofit. That took two months. But it’s ideal for my style of travel. If I have work that needs to be done then I have everything at my fingertips. Internet, phone, fax, the works. All encrypted, mind you. And at my age I need to get my rest or I’m not worth a crap the next day, especially with all the time changes I make.” Wiley looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, we lose eight hours between here and Belgium so when we leave Goose Bay, I suggest you follow my lead and try to get some sack time. The bunks are comfortable. You’re in the top bunk.”
Jake gazed out the aircraft window while the Citation taxied into position. The surge of takeoff thrust from the Rolls-Royce AE 3007C1 engines forced him back into his leather seat. In a quick few seconds the Citation lifted off and banked to the left.
He returned his gaze out the window. “How large is your ranch?”
“Right now, as far as your eyes can see.” Wiley said. “I own somewhere around thirty thousand acres, give or take a couple of hundred.”
“Holy cow. That’s big.”
“This is Texas.” Wiley paused. “That’s considered a hobby ranch.”
Four hours later, about one hour after finishing the onboard meal prepared for them from the Wranglers’ Steakhouse, the Citation landed at CFB Goose Bay. A former United States Air Force base, now a Canadian Forces Base. A Canadian Forces fuel truck pulled up next to the Citation and started fueling the aircraft.
“How’d you pull that off? Jake asked. “The Canadian military fuel?”
Wiley smiled. “Connections.”
Within fifteen minutes, the Citation was in the air bound for Brussels. Jake was amazed at the efficiency in which Wiley’s travel had been conducted. Not a minute wasted by anyone, not the crew, not even Wiley himself.
The phone next to Wiley beeped. Wiley picked it up, listened for a moment and said, “Thanks.”
Wiley unbuckled. “Jake we should arrive in Brussels around 9:30 a.m. which is…” He looked at his watch. “A little over four and half hours from now.”
Wiley stood up and put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You should get as much sleep as possible. In all likelihood if you survive the next few days, they’ll prove to be life altering.”
With that statement hanging in the air, Wiley disappeared into his bunk.
CHAPTER 13
Kaplan rose with the sun feeling refreshed. He’d slept for over six hours — now it was time to get down to business. The business of locating and rescuing Isabella Hunt.
He found Chase and his team members at the table with a map weighted down on the corners by coffee mugs. In the light of dawn, they looked younger than they had the night before and they were all dressed alike. Jeans, t-shirts. Two in tennis shoes, three in hiking boots. And everyone had a backpack on the floor next to them. North Face, JanSport, Dakine — just what you’d expect from college students out exploring the world. Kaplan studied each one and noticed something odd, or maybe not so odd after all. They all had forgettable faces and features. No one stood out. No one had striking features. Perfect for covert ops.
The team had been talking about someone when Kaplan walked in. He assumed the name he heard was the source.
“Barakah? Is that our man?” Kaplan asked.
Chase smiled. “The source is Baraka Binte Talibah. But yeah, she’s our source.”
“A woman?” Kaplan showed his surprise. “How’d you manage that?”
“Actually, she came to us — in a roundabout way,” Chase explained. “She approached one of us right after we arrived, something a local asset had arranged.”
“When do I get to meet her?”
“That could be a bit of a problem.” Chase said. “She doesn’t know about you, yet. We are to meet later this morning. But first we need to discuss ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” Kaplan asked.
“Yes. Her security is of upmost importance to us. She cannot be compromised. She will contact us when she can talk. She’ll tell us when and where.” Chase explained.
“Do you trust her? Could she be setting us up?”
“There is always that chance, but we are good at what we do. Besides, the circumstances that brought her to us pretty much assure us she’s on our side.” Chase explained how she came to them after her husband was blinded, had his tongue cut out, and her teenage daughters had been tortured and executed. Payback for her husband leaking information to a Yemeni police chief that led to the siege against al Qaeda militants in the small village of Hawta. Thousands of people fled as government forces moved into the village with tanks and armored vehicles. She was spared only because she wasn’t home at the time.
“These people are brutal. Even more so with their own countrymen and women.” Chase said. “I offered her protection but she refused. She witnessed the abduction and thinks she knows where they took Ms Hunt. She’ll confirm it and get back to us.”
“So we just wait?” Before Chase could answer, Kaplan’s own words reminded him of Jake’s impatience in Australia.
“That’s right.” Chase said. “We wait.”
An hour later Kaplan, Chase, and Baraka Binte Talibah met in an abandoned white-washed home on the south end of Sana’a. The bomb-blast-wrecked home had been left in shambles nearly a decade earlier when insurgents attempted a government takeover. She was reluctant to meet with Kaplan present but Chase convinced the woman that meeting with him was the only way to ensure the safety of the captured woman.
“The woman is being held in…how you say…compound in Hajjah. Walls on all sides.” Baraka explained.
“Where is this Hajjah?” Kaplan asked. “What’s the terrain like?”
“All Hajjah is hill. Woman is in Old Hajjah Palace. One road in. One road out. Will not be easy.” Baraka looked at Kaplan. “I help you get in. Must go at night.”
Chase interrupted. “No Baraka. You’ve done enough. We can’t ask you to put your life on the line. We can handle it from here.”
“No. No.” Baraka gave Chase a glance then returned her stare to the older, wiser Kaplan. “I go first, make sure no one get in way. I get you to Palace then you rescue woman.”
Kaplan looked at Chase. “She’s right. We need her. She can help. Without her, we might not stand a chance.”
CHAPTER 14
Kaplan sent Baraka away with plans to meet back at the same place later that afternoon. He and Chase returned to the safe house and briefed the brick. Then Kaplan called Bentley and CIA analyst George Fontaine via the Delta squad’s encrypted phone.
“Before her cover was blown,” Bentley said. “Isabella had relayed information about the Yemen cell’s plans for a coordinated attack. Three attacks were to take place within weeks of each other across the globe. One in Australia. As you know, that cell has been eliminated. One in Europe and the other in the United States. Based on messages she’d intercepted to Hilal, Isabella believed the Yemen cell was planning an attack in France, probably Paris.”
“Paris is a long way from Yemen. Was she sure?” Kaplan asked.
Actually,” Fontaine said. “Yemen is closer to Paris than Sydney was to the cell you and Jake took out.”