When the door closed behind her, Carson lifted his phone and dialed a number very few people knew existed.
“Target?” answered a voice on the other end of the line.
“Aisha Franks,” replied Carson.
“Purpose?”
“Background and surveillance,” he responded, ensuring he would know every detail of her life from that moment on.
Chapter 27
With the video complete, Nick was free to change his appearance. His dark, wavy hair was cut shorter, bleached and then dyed a sandy brown color with gray streaks. Tinted contact lenses were a must. The one feature that stood out beyond all others was his piercing blue eyes. They had fascinated Frankie and were one of the first things she had spotted when they noticed each other. A pair of glasses completed the change. His two-day stubble would normally have been removed but further added to the disguise. Nick Geller was a changed man in every way.
Mohammed Farsi responded to Nick’s summons and entered his apartment by observing the knocking code. The surprised look on his face was all Nick needed to confirm that the disguise was successful. The athletic, handsome, dark-haired Nick Geller had become a middle-aged professor type, complete with corduroy jacket.
“Remarkable,” Farsi said.
“The fewer people see me like this, the better,” said Nick.
“Of course,” replied Farsi.
“I leave tonight.”
“But I thought—”
“I have an army to raise and a war to win, brother,” said Nick.
Farsi nodded and was reminded of their first meeting a year earlier. The selfless act by the Westerner had saved the family of the local Al Qaeda leader’s family in Afghanistan. Mohammed Farsi had been training with the Afghans when Nick Geller had fallen into their laps. A gift from Allah himself. He thanked Allah that they had not killed him. It had been so close. On awakening from his concussion, he was to have been beheaded. The filming of a Special Forces soldier being beheaded would have made news around the world for at least a day, if not more. But he spoke of Mohammed, of Allah, in a way that only a true believer could. He lived and fought with them for three months, trained them as he had been trained by the infidels. He had proved himself many times to them.
He had promised to continue the fight from within. His return to America had once again proved his trust. No attacks targeted Taliban or Al Qaeda strongholds that he had been told of. Defenses were not bolstered where he knew they might attack. Nick was one of them, a true believer at the heart of the enemy. The Caliph’s grand plan had been merely whispers when Nick became involved but with his help they had grown into a powerful force. However, Nick’s status changed when he betrayed them all and slaughtered the Caliph. That was one of the darkest days of Farsi’s life. However, this day was one of his brightest. From darkness had come light. His faith was strong and with Nick’s help, the Caliph’s grand plan would win the day.
Nick stepped forward and drew Farsi close. “He was dying brother. Cancer was killing him.”
Farsi stepped back, confused.
Nick drew him back. “The Caliph, he wanted to die a warrior, not a sick old man.”
Farsi smiled as Nick shed even more light on the darkness.
“Allahu Akbar!”
“Allahu Akbar,” agreed Nick.
“Now my brother, please clear the corridor and staircase. I don’t want to be seen leaving. And remember, have your men ready for me. Prepare your warriors and yourself for what will be our finest hour. But only the truly faithful. This is Allah’s war. They must want and need to die for Allah. We have no room for the weak or those lacking the courage of Allah!”
“We will be ready!” he promised as he left to clear Nick’s exit.
Nick checked his weapons were safely stored. He then removed his Berretta and placed it in his satchel along with the small metal briefcase. He grabbed the walking cane that he stored with his weapons and waited a further five minutes for the coast to be clear before leaving.
On exiting the building, he gained a limp and with the help of the walking stick, he disappeared into the night.
Chapter 28
Frankie stared at the screen, watching over and over again Nick spewing his vile hatred and plunging the syringe into the man’s arm. Each time she watched, a shiver ran down her spine and a knot in her stomach had her reaching for her womb. She bore that monster’s child; it was growing inside her. She opened up a new search window and typed ‘abortion clinic’ into the address bar. A number of options appeared. She closed the window without looking. It wasn’t the baby’s fault, the baby was an innocent.
The best thing she could do for the child was to make sure its father was stopped. Frankie pulled up her calendar. She kept a note of everywhere she had been with Nick. Their whirlwind romance over the last five months had been just that, a whirlwind. Every moment they had was spent together.
Three months earlier, they had been to Paris. Nick had an assignment that would take him away for a month. It would be the first time they were to be parted since they had started dating and included a few days of business in Paris before moving on to Afghanistan. Frankie had taken a week’s vacation and surprised him. She thought back to how shocked he had been when she had appeared at his hotel room. She tried to pull up the memory of his face, the image of shock. She had forgotten about it but the shock had been such that she thought she might have interrupted him with another woman. However, his room had been empty and she had just pushed it to the back of her mind. The next few days had been some of the most memorable of her life.
As the memory came flooding back, the image sharpened. It was shock alright, not at the surprise, but at being caught out. Nick hadn’t been with another woman. He had been planning his escape all those months earlier and she had interrupted his plans.
She had surprised him at a small hotel near one of the main railway stations, the Gare de Lyon. After her arrival, they had moved to the recently refurbished Hotel De Crillon, one of the most salubrious Parisian hotels and her mother’s favorite. While he worked, she shopped and in the evenings, they spent the most wonderful time together enjoying Parisian nightlife. It had been a special few days prior to his departure for a month. The same month that had propelled him to becoming a secret superstar by assassinating Zahir al Zahrani, the head of Al Qaeda.
On the second day of their Paris trip, she remembered something strange had happened and again she had just set it aside. He had left early and returned late in the afternoon. She had spent the morning shopping and then went for a run. She had told him in the evening of how she had run seven miles that lunchtime. He had joked about how funny that was as he had had lunch with a Mr. Rahn. He then expressed concern about her being caught in the terrible hailstorm. There had been no hailstorm in Paris; it had been a beautiful clear day until after three. Only then had any clouds appeared.
She picked up the handset and asked for the NOAA, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. She gave them the date, a rough timescale and asked them if they could look into it. The operator was helpful but pointed out numerous times that it was a Sunday and that he’d do his best.
Armed with the little she had, she approached Special Agent Reid, the head of the Joint Terrorism Task Force and as the hunt for Nick had overshadowed every other terrorist activity, she was Turner’s Number Two and lead agent on the operations floor. Frankie explained the trip to Paris and the probably innocuous weather reference. Reid listened, one eye remaining on her screen as the updates from thousands of agents and law enforcements agencies scrolled continually across her screen.