Chain Reaction

CHAPTER NINE

“Hegre is involved in a deal to supply uranium for the Iranians. I don’t have the full details, but it looks likely the stuff came from Kazakhstan. Hegre will do the deal on behalf of the Iranian connection. Iran finds it difficult to buy uranium on the open market, especially since the nuclear deal it struck with the six world powers. Once Iran’s name comes up, most countries back away. Hegre steps in and does the buy for them, shunts it around locations until they can finally ship it to Iran undercover. The stolen diamonds help Hegre raise plenty of cash for working the deal, and they’ll get it back in triplicate once the client pays up.” Bolan added, “Hegre lost a big load of cash when a North Korean deal went sour. The diamond heist will have helped boost their reserves.”

“Not if we could take it away from them,” Mitchell said.

Bolan did not fail to pick up on the we. The look on Mitchell’s face told him that she was not joking. The FBI agent, already deep into the Hegre mythology, was as committed to the organization’s downfall as Bolan. She had already proved her worth under fire and she had a sharp brain. Her unflinching attitude was well suited to Bolan’s way of operating.

“Hong Kong isn’t downtown U.S.A.,” he pointed out.

“Don’t you believe I can handle it?”

“I do. I’m not so sure China can.”

Mitchell smiled across Bolan’s shoulder as she spotted a familiar figure crossing the diner’s parking lot.

“Here’s someone else who probably feels the same,” she said, watching as SAC Drake Duncan pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He spotted them and made his way to where they were sitting.

“Sir,” Mitchell said.

“They told me you two had headed out for some peace and quiet,” Duncan said, not unkindly.

“That was my idea,” Bolan said.

“I’m not complaining.” Duncan surveyed the meals they were eating. “Looks good. I haven’t eaten all damn day.”

Bolan waved the server over and ordered a meal for Duncan, adding a request for more coffee.

“Coffee would be good,” Duncan said. “My head is still reeling after that flight from Washington. I got the go-ahead to get a flight courtesy of the Air Force. And I thought regular airlines moved fast.”

Bolan ran through what they had learned about Hegre, the diamonds and the uranium. Duncan listened patiently.

His coffee arrived and he sipped it.

“Good,” he said. He looked from Bolan, to Mitchell, his thoughts almost visible as he digested the information. “I am getting the feeling there’s something unspoken, and I’m certain I’m not going be too happy about it.”

To his credit SAC Duncan did not explode with righteous anger as Bolan brought him up-to-date. He remained silent as Bolan gave him the details of Stony Man’s revelations, though he refrained from revealing his information source. The FBI man only glanced at Mitchell a couple of times as he absorbed what Bolan had to say, especially when the soldier asked for Mitchell to be allowed to accompany him on the mission.

Mitchell remained silent, for once holding back from making any kind of remarks, facetious or otherwise. She realized the big man was in her corner and his quiet stating of the facts got his request listened to and considered without there being any raised voices or impassioned pleading.

When Bolan had finished Duncan leaned back, catching the server’s eye and asked for more coffee.

“I need this,” he said when the coffee had been delivered. “Truth be told I could do with a splash of whisky in it.”

“If we want to take advantage of this,” Bolan said, “we need to move. A flight to Hong Kong should allow us to be there when that ship docks.”

“To do what?”

“Ideally take that cache of diamonds away from Hegre, stop them from rebuilding their cash stores and try to get a line on where the uranium is.”

“That all sounds damn fanciful to me.”

“There’s always Lise Delaware,” Mitchell said quietly.

“I understand your need to settle this because of your dead teammates,” Duncan said. “The FBI does not go in for personal vengeance, Agent Mitchell—Sarah.”

Mitchell took a breath. “Sir, Hegre is the cause of those deaths. They need to take responsibility for them. In a court of law if possible. We’re talking about a major criminal organization here. One that uses bribery of law enforcement officials and anyone they can get their hands on to protect their interests. Who murder at will.”

“You make a good case,” Duncan said. “You have the means to get to your destination, Cooper?”

Bolan nodded. “Yes.”

Duncan shook his head. “I must be crazy to allow this. If it backfires, Sarah, we’ll both be out of a job. If anyone asks, you’re on special assignment, undercover and out of contact.” He threw up his hands. “What the hell am I doing? Just get out of here, the pair of you, before I get all righteous and lock you both up.”

* * *

MITCHELL DROVE WHILE Bolan contacted Hal Brognola, director of the Sensitive Operations Group, whose base was at Stony Man Farm.

“Are you sure about this?” Brognola asked after Bolan had laid out his next move.

“Hegre is leaving a trail of bodies while they wheel and deal. FBI agents, truckers in Australia, and there’s the possibility of a deal with Iran for uranium. Hegre needs to be shut down, put out of business for good.”

“I should know better than to even question what you’re up to. Tell me what you need. Barb will arrange to have tickets ready for you at Seattle-Tacoma airport. We have your photo, and Aaron will access Mitchell’s from the FBI database. I’ll have passports couriered to you by first thing tomorrow morning and left at the hotel desk.”

“Hotel?”

“We’ll book you in for an overnight stay. Details on which hotel will follow.”

“Have Andy Chen meet us at the airport in Hong Kong. We’ll have to leave weapons behind. In the SUV. I’ll leave the key at reception.”

Chen was a contact Bolan had used before.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll have a pickup arranged. Chen will be able to get you ordnance once you arrive and a satellite phone.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep in touch, Striker. You know how Hegre operates, so stay on your toes.”

“I have good backup on this.”

“And more at home.”

“Watch yourselves.”

“Good backup?” Mitchell said as Bolan ended the call. “Was that about me?”

“Do you always eavesdrop?”

Mitchell smiled. “Only if it matters.”

“It matters.”

“Then thanks.”

“Keep your eyes peeled for a shopping mall,” Bolan said.

“Why?”

“If we turn up at the airport dressed this way, someone is going to think it’s a SWAT raid. We need clothes to fit the role of tourists.”

They rolled into the parking area of a mall twenty minutes later. Mitchell led the way and they hit a couple of stores, using Bolan’s Stony Man issued credit card to buy what they needed. A quick visit to restrooms and they emerged dressed in casual outfits more suited to the roles they were about to play. They would leave the soiled clothing in the SUV. The only item Bolan retained was his leather jacket.

Bolan had purchased a couple of lightweight carryalls for the change of clothing they had bought. He added a third bag for the weapons they would leave behind. Before they drove away from the mall they placed their weapons in the third bag, wrapped in the clothes they were abandoning. Bolan stowed the bag in the SUV’s trunk, out of sight.

Minutes before they arrived at the airport Bolan’s cell rang. It was Barbara Price, Stony Man’s mission controller.

“A king guest room was booked for you at the Seattle Airport Marriott. The reservation was made for Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. That’s who you are on your new passports. You look like a nice couple.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Your friends interest me,” Mitchell said.

“Interesting is one way to describe them. Head for the Seattle Airport Marriott hotel. It appears we’re booked in as a married couple. The Hamiltons. Passports should arrive before we fly out tomorrow at 11:00 a.m.”

“Whoever you friends are they have good taste,” Mitchell said as they reached the hotel.

She drove the SUV into the parking lot and they made their way inside the hotel.

Mitchell wandered around the large room, checking the facilities.

“Is this your usual standard?”

“No. Sometimes only get a single bed.”

“Cooper, do you mind if I crash? The day’s catching up on me. You know what I mean?”

“You go ahead.”

Mitchell took a fast shower, wrapped herself in a bathrobe and climbed into the bed.

“Just wake me in time for breakfast,” she murmured.

* * *

WHILE BOLAN AND Mitchell slept, a Stony Man courier arrived in Seattle at 6:35 a.m. He handed over the sealed package at the desk of the Marriott, picked up the keys for Bolan’s SUV and drove out of the parking lot. He drove to a small private airport where he transferred to an aircraft for his return flight to Washington, taking with him the carryall containing the ordnance Bolan had left behind.

* * *

AT 8:00 A.M. Bolan picked up the package waiting at the hotel reception desk. It held the Stony Man–prepared passports for himself and Mitchell. They looked well used and were stamped with entry and exit visas from a number of countries.

When he showed the passports to Mitchell, over breakfast, she was impressed.

“I may keep this,” she said. “It would be very handy if I want to take a quiet trip somewhere.”

“What would SAC Duncan have to say about that?”

“That would be telling.” Mitchell regarded him across the table. “And speaking about telling, what about you and the mysterious Lise Delaware? What do you have to tell me about her...?”

CHAPTER TEN

As they settled in their seats for the flight to Hong Kong, Mitchell leaned over and said, “I still don’t have the lowdown on Delawar”

“First time we met she tried to kill me. I screwed up a big deal for Hegre and grazed her arm with a bullet. From what I’ve learned she doesn’t let it go when she’s been bested.”

“You must have gotten to her, Cooper.”

“What can I say. And all I know is her name...”

* * *

WHEN LISE WAS fourteen years old, she came home from school and found her mother dead in the bathtub. The cold water was tinged pink from the blood that had streamed from her slashed wrists. It was later confirmed that Rose Delaware had also swallowed every pill in the house. It was a final act of desperation, brought on by the severe depression she suffered from. She had struggled with her condition for a number of years, fighting a slow, losing battle. Rose’s ongoing condition had only been relieved by the presence of her daughter, and she fought against it every day. She kept her apartment clean and provided a loving environment for her daughter, Lise.

Things she kept from her daughter only came to light after her death. The thing that pushed her over the edge was the final chapter in the long-running battle with her husband. He had wanted a divorce. Rose had denied him that, but he continued to fight her and had finally gotten what he wanted by citing her unreasonable attitude and deliberate obstruction when he told her he wanted to remarry. It had cost him a lot of money, but he was wealthy and the financial cost meant nothing to him. The divorce papers were found on the bathroom floor where Rose had dropped them.

The trauma of finding her dead mother affected Lise badly. She fell into an almost vegetative state and had to be hospitalized. She was given the best care available, a private room and around-the-clock care. Her father chose not to visit her. They had never been close. Work had always been his top priority. It took nearly six months before she began to come out of her shell and respond to attention.

Three weeks later a man came to the hospital. She vaguely recalled his face. He had visited her mother some years back. Lise remembered how he had been with her mother. He had offered to help, but for some reason her mother had turned him away. She couldn’t understand why. Her mother refused to talk about it. Now on the day he visited her, she sat and stared at him, still cloaked in despair at the loss of her mother. When he came back days later, he brought a woman with him. They spoke with the people in charge and later that same day she was removed from the hospital. There was a large car outside and Lise was placed inside, with the man on one side and the woman the other. They drove for what seemed a long time.

Lise watched through the car window until fatigue took over and she slept.

When she awakened, she was dressed in warm pajamas and tucked in a soft bed.

In the days and weeks that followed, Lise came to know the woman, who was with her most of the days. She brought new clothes. And food. The room she was in was large and bright, filled with good things. The woman—she found out her name was Claire—looked after her. Lise was taken from the room, down the wide staircase and through a door that led outside into a wide, attractive garden.

The house was where Lise would spend the next few years. In comfort and surrounded by people who cared for her and ensured she lacked for nothing. Not once did she inquire about her father. He was responsible for her mother’s death. He was dead to her.

The house and grounds were spacious. There was a swimming pool and a wide patio. Claire and Lise spent many hours in the warm sunshine. There were a number of staff in the house who fetched and carried, doing anything Claire requested. Lise did not see the man for a few weeks. When she finally asked where he was, Claire simply told her he was away on business, but he would come to see her when he came back. Claire was her constant companion, and through her kindness and patience Lise was gradually drawn out of her solitary mood. Sometimes at night she would lie in her bed and think about her mother, trying to bring back the good times. Then her mother had been strong and beautiful. But the dark memories kept overshadowing the good times. Lise would lie and stare into the shadows, brooding. Thinking about the bad times, struggling to banish them. Gradually the memories faded, but never completely. They always hugged the deep corners of her mind. Lise learned to keep them buried because she didn’t want to disappoint Claire, who devoted her time and patience to the girl.

When the man came back to the house, Lise learned his name was Julius Hegre. He spoke to her gently. Explained to her that her mother had been his sister, and he wanted to take care of Lise now.

When Lise asked why her mother had refused his help, he told her she had not approved of his business.

Hegre had smiled his distant smile and told her when she was older he would explain.

The explanation did not come for eight years.

Lise was twenty-two years old when he had explained the mystery behind his business affairs. Watching her face as she absorbed his words, Hegre saw not shock, but a spark of interest that only grew as he revealed his true occupation.

She began, from that day, to immerse herself in his business, always asking questions, wanting to know everything he could tell her. There was a confident spirit emerging and the revelation that his business was nowhere near lawful only intrigued her more. She was like a young child again, full of curiosity, eager to run before she could walk. Hegre could never tire at the bombardment as she badgered him with more and more questions.

Lise threw herself into the physical interests her lifestyle allowed her to pursue: horseback riding, swimming, a growing interest in shooting—using every kind of firearm she could get her hands on. She excelled at martial arts—her instructors were always having to rein her in as she pushed herself harder. She revealed a ruthless streak, and many of Hegre’s hardened crew found themselves challenged when faced with her in the dojo. She was as hard on herself as she was any opponent.

Her companion had left by this time. There was nothing more she could do for the young woman who faced life with a confidence bordering on arrogance. The child had long since disappeared, and the full-grown woman had become a stranger to her tutor.