Nick picked up his small bag and disappeared into the bathroom. A far younger and rounder faced man appeared shortly afterwards. The gray streaks that had added maturity to the aging James Smith were gone and his eye color had also changed, once again, to complete the new look.
Small red dots covered Nick’s face, onto which he was applying concealer.
“Botox to tighten the slack skin and a bit more filler in the jawline and cheeks, along with some heavier clothes and voila, five years younger than I normally look and a lot heavier thanks to a fat face,” he said, pulling out another passport.
“Kyle Johnson, pleased to meet you,” said Nick to Walid, holding out his hand in greeting, as though for the first time.
“You’re very good at that,” said Walid, thoroughly impressed.
“They trained me very well.”
“Unlucky for them.”
“Time to go,” said Nick.
“Are you sure?” said Walid. “It’s still quite early.”
“Security is going to be tight and lengthy. If we go now, we’ll blend in with the mass of passengers. Waiting until last would attract more scrutiny.”
“Good point,” said Walid nervously.
“You go first and I’ll follow on in a few minutes. And remember, they don’t know you. They’re not looking for you, just me. Act casual.”
Walid checked himself in the mirror, picked up his bag and with a hug, wished Nick Allah’s blessings for the operation.
With that, he was gone, leaving Nick alone with his thoughts. Nick checked himself once more against the image in Kyle Johnson’s passport. It was a good match. Not a perfect one but whose passport photo ever was?
After waiting five minutes, he followed Walid’s lead and exited Room 410, without even a passing glance back towards Room 416. He pressed the ‘Call’ button and waited for the elevator. The doors opened, two passengers were already inside — a woman and a young boy. Nick stepped forward and smiled a good morning to them.
“Hey, Mister?” said the young boy, his American accent catching Nick’s attention more than it should have.
“Hey there,” said Nick, not wanting to appear unfriendly.
“Where you going, Mister?”
“Zach!” chastised his mother. “Don’t be so nosey.”
“Sorry,” said Zach. “We’re flying home to America.”
“Nice,” said Nick.
“We fly to Charlie…ot…”
“Charlotte?” said Nick helpfully.
“Yep, that’s it,” the boy said excitedly.
The doors pinged open in the lobby and his mother threw Nick an apologetic look as she rushed her out of the elevator.
Charlotte, thought Nick. Walid was flying to Charlotte. Everyone on Walid’s flight was going to die. It was one of the reasons Nick wanted to ensure he wasn’t on Walid’s flight. He couldn’t remember where every vial had been delivered but he did remember that one jihadist who had received a vial was on Walid’s flight.
Nick returned the wave to the young boy as his mother pushed him out of the hotel’s main doors.
Chapter 77
The first thing Carson had done, after clearing the center of all non-military and cleared personnel, was to call off the Marines. On their final approach towards Frankfurt airport, he had called just in time to avoid the sight of three C130 US Military Hercules coming into view of the terminal building. His next call was to stand down the DCS team and get Karl Brunner on board with the plan. The plan being to let the terrorist Nick Geller, if he was indeed in the Frankfurt airport, board his plane and leave German soil. The conversation had been brief. Karl Brunner was delighted to let the arrest of the highly dangerous criminal happen somewhere other than in his airport.
The NSA agent had been incorrect in his guess at how many people were still in the center. There had been nine when the NSA agent left but another four left shortly after. Their clearance also fell short of the requirements to stay behind. Ideally, Carson would have carried out the rest of the operation from the Pentagon but with time critical, it was decided to stay and complete the mission from the NCTC while the investigation data that was never again to see the light of day was deleted by the program members who had accompanied Carson.
Even those who had been trusted with deleting the data were not fully aware of the scale of the operation underway. Carson retreated to his office and closed his door, then connected the video-conference equipment to Vice President Bob Hammond and National Security Adviser Liz Roberts.
“Harry,” greeted Vice President Hammond.
“Liz, Bob,” said Harry, acknowledging them and checking the line.
“How’d it go?” asked Bob.
“As well as can be expected,” said Harry. “They’ve worked around the clock, as hard as any team I’ve ever worked with.”
“Had to be done,” said Liz.
“How was Turner?” asked Bob.
“Pissed, with a capital P-I-S-S-E-D.”
“We’ll make it up to him,” promised Liz.
“So where are we?” asked Bob.
“If everything goes as we expect, Geller will be boarding in the next couple of hours. All assets are in place. On confirmation that he has boarded, I will, with the President’s final approval, initiate Operation Takedown.”
“Anything you need from us?” asked Bob.
“Just make sure the President’s ready and available to take my call.”
“Will do.”
Harry sat back in his chair as the screen went black. Taking a human life, no matter whose, was never an easy decision to make. Killing thousands was even more difficult but beyond that, the number just became a number. The decision to kill vast numbers had already been made.
The greater good, thought Carson, the greater good.
Chapter 78
Omar joined the line for flight UA35 to Los Angeles. A large number of desks showed the flight number, ensuring quick progress as the amount of desk agents prevented the build-up of queuing passengers.
Approaching the desk, Omar handed over his passport and his booking reference, as instructed.
“Thank you, Mr. Perez,” said the check-in agent.
The man typed in Omar’s reference and hit a key that resulted in Omar’s boarding pass printing. A young woman to his left was checking in at the adjacent desk and looked across at him. She smiled, liking what she saw. Omar wasn’t sure if it was he or the very muscly desk agent that the young woman was smiling at. However, rather than be flattered, he was angry at the inappropriate way in which she was dressed. Her short skirt and low cut top were no way for a young woman to dress in public. Remembering his instructions, he forced a smile back.
The check-in agent had other ideas. He could hardly take his eyes off of the young woman. Neither, it seemed, could most of the men in close proximity. Pathetically weak, thought Omar, and exceptionally disrespectful. He would be teaching their whole kind a lesson they’d never forget. There was only one true God and the world was about to find out once and for all who that was.
He smiled at the check-in agent, pulling his eyes away as the young woman bent forward to place her bag on the scales.
“This is your boarding card. We’re having a few problems with the departure boards. This is the gate number you should go to, ignore what’s on the boards. The flight’s on time, so be sure to go straight through security as boarding will start very soon,” he said, pointing to the number 25 he had written in thick red ink on Omar’s boarding pass.