Dark Vessel (COIL Book 4), page 15
On top of Karl Coleman escaping with Corban, Washington was still reeling from General Logan Forglade's involvement in the explosion of Flight 524, an event I'd heard associated with an alias of Corban's, Muhammad ibn Affal. And now this man, Luigi Putelli, was identified as an assassin in the clandestine world—arrested for charges that governments were apt to handle much more secretly, due to the sensitive intelligence the operative might have. He could even have COIL intel! It didn't take a detective to know Luigi's life was at risk if he fell into the wrong hands—or the wrong detention facility. My twelve years inside the Mossad, Israel's clandestine agency, had ingrained a suspicion within me of everything and everyone. And it was with this nature that I concluded that Luigi's arrest was suspiciously related to Corban's disappearance. The two had to be related, somehow.
"God, help me," I prayed at my table. "Help me help whomever I'm supposed to help. Don't let me waste away in a puddle of my own tears."
Corban was missing. Janice and Jenna were certainly dead now. No mystery there. The instigators of Corban's disappearance were on the run—the focus being on General Forglade, though I had every reason to believe that Karl Coleman was the primary instigator. That left me with Luigi Putelli on my screen. How tainted was he? Had he turned on Corban? If I made a move, my Mossad reputation with Israel would be on the line, but I had to have some answers!
Feeling like a fool, I realized I'd been watching the same footage repeatedly from only one news source. In two minutes, I had a list of other news agencies that had been at the federal building in Lincoln. The fourth one I tried had captured the audio of Luigi's words, since they were closer to him. After a few more repeats, I finally heard it clearly. He had looked straight at the camera and said, "I have J-J."
Stunned, I sat staring at the screen, not able to repeat the footage again. What was happening? Janice and Jenna were alive? Then who did the morgue have? Whatever crumbled in Corban's life affected my own, because we'd been so close for so many years. J-J could only refer to Janice and Jenna. Luigi Putelli had put Janice and Jenna somewhere safe. This Luigi was the bald man I'd seen at Corban's funeral! So Luigi's statement to the camera was a message for Corban, I guessed. Did that mean Luigi knew Corban was alive? Was Luigi helping Corban? I had to speak to Luigi! If Corban was alive, or if Janice and Jenna needed help, I needed to make contact. By not recognizing sooner that Luigi was the man who'd taken Janice and Jenna at the funeral, I may have complicated Corban's strategy. He'd said the bald man who took his family was a friend. That meant Luigi was my friend, an asset. So why hadn't Corban contacted me again?
Immediately, I went to the kitchen window that faced the back yard where Corban had left me a phone on my doorstep. My husband, Zvi, was out of the country. If the house was being watched, I was alone to face what happened next. My skills as a field operative were above average, but not as a housewife. It was time to move into the COIL office to live there as I often did during a crisis that required ongoing oversight.
A black town car followed me all the way into Manhattan. I believed it was an enemy, because of the timing, but sometimes agencies kept me under surveillance. Enemy or not, I had to remain focused on primary issues.
I prayed and planned until I reached COIL headquarters. I believed in a sovereign Lord, His mighty hand not distant from His people's activities. As such, I wasn't alone, even if COIL's founder was missing and no one but a suspected assassin had the answers to my questions. God wasn't being cruel, merely intent on His subjects being obedient as He worked all things out for His glory and our good. This was a mighty truth on which I needed to rest my faith.
The two suites above Times Square where COIL functioned had not paused regardless of the chaos in the lives of its administrators. The caseworkers at their desks, working in shifts around the clock, hardly noticed as I passed through security, then went into Corban's office instead of stopping at my own desk. To most of the caseworkers, I was merely Chloe, the public relations liaison. Or I approved a raise or holiday time.
Locked in Corban's office and seated behind his grand desk, I felt secure enough to begin what I was certain would be a marathon operation to recover from the damage done to us all. The armor-plated glass on my left and secure communication lines on my right were just a few perks of using Corban's office.
From a secret panel in the wall, I slid out a keypad and entered a code. This in turn gave me entry into a database of COIL's most secretive assets. Though I didn't know half the assets Corban had installed around the world, I knew one well enough to enter a codename at the prompt: SLADRICK.
Sladrick was hardly a codename, since Brody's real last name was Sladrick. Brody Sladrick was the only veteran operative inside COIL who'd saved more Christian lives worldwide than Corban had. Though younger than Corban by several years, Brody had been an independent operative for twenty years—fifteen longer than COIL had been in operation. The man was an expert at human intelligence, and he knew best how to exploit COIL's secrets, which I couldn't in Corban's absence. Corban had boasted that the man was a disguise genius, and he could retrieve anything from anywhere. He sounded like just the man I needed beside me, though I'd be working with him for the first time. Would he be able to come at a moment's notice?
My question was answered as he picked up on the second ring of my secure line.
"Sladrick."
"This is Mother Rahab."
"I'm listening."
"We have a Hezekiah Tunnel situation. I need you with me a-sap."
Hezekiah Tunnel was a code referring to an infiltration of our own fortress, like Jerusalem had been breached using its water tunnel under the Eastern Wall.
"I'm at the camp in Mexico. I'll be on a plane tonight. Rahab?"
"Yes?"
"Acting Chef is here with me. Do you want us both?"
"Please hold." I typed in the codename and discovered Acting Chef was Gail Benjamin, the actress, whose cover was often as a chef. "Affirmative, Sladrick. If she can make it, we're up to our ears."
"Understood." Click.
Without Corban in the office, several updates to the field agents' files had been neglected. I took a moment to include a comment that I , Mother Rahab, had recalled Brody Sladrick and Gail Benjamin from the COIL training camp in Mexico. I'd met Gail a year earlier at a COIL gathering, and knew she could be a great help on the case—besides just having another Christian woman my own age available.
Next, I dialed a contact of my own, not COIL or Corban's at all.
"Nice to hear from you, Chloe," Colonel Kalil Yasof said. He'd been Israeli Defense Forces' forward command in a dozen operations since I'd officially left the Mossad, but no one ever really left the Mossad. "You're not scheduled to call until next week."
"I have a situation, both personal and political." I used my native Hebrew so he would understand that I meant our mutual homeland directly. Though the colonel had proposed marriage to me before Zvi had, he wasn't a believer. Our relationship was strictly professional now, since he was my superior. "Agent Corban Dowler has been missing for a week, presumed dead by most. I'm not sure how much you've heard through your sources."
"I read it in a memo a few days ago. But Mr. Dowler, even in retirement from the CIA, has continued to represent Israel's interests and security against extremism worldwide. We'll miss him."
"Well, I've located a man he has worked with for some time, a rogue from Italy, once a French DGSE agent, the news is saying."
"Luigi Putelli."
"How did you know?"
"Every superpower in the world has hired this agent at one time or another—to do their dirty work, as you Americans say. What happens in America impacts Israel quite often. How is Luigi Putelli related to Mr. Dowler?"
"Corban trusted Putelli with the lives of his wife and daughter—also rumored to be dead. Putelli's distant past has caught up to him, but I can guarantee that Corban wouldn't have trusted Putelli without reason."
"If Putelli knows where Corban is, we need to know." Kalil hummed a few notes as he considered his options. I waited anxiously, hoping he understood without my asking that I wanted an IDF sanction to officially pull Luigi Putelli—or at least to access him through the US State Department. "This is muddy, Chloe. My sources say he's being held in Nebraska."
"Lincoln. That's correct."
"The French want him, and he has ten other agencies who want him after them, if he's still alive."
"Exactly my concern. If we don't get him out first, he could die with what he knows. Whoever has Corban, or wherever he is, could jeopardize Israeli security as well."
"Chloe, don't think I'm unaware that you're twisting the facts to your advantage." He chuckled, though I understood his warning. "I've assessed the threat to Corban's safety—to Israel and to your own enterprise there."
"Then you'll help?"
"Well, I can clear it on my side, but unofficially. Who are you working with?"
"I've called in a man named Brody Sladrick. He should be in your file. And a woman named Gail Benjamin."
"Good. She's one of ours."
"Mossad? She is?"
"A few years after you. Let me put you on hold." He was back a moment later. "There's a Senator Nettleton who's the new chair of the subcommittee for domestic oversight. He's sympathetic toward Israeli concerns and there's chatter he had contact with Corban in the past month.
"Corban has mentioned his name, but I don't know him."
"His authority should be enough to gain access to extract Luigi Putelli—if you go the distance, as they say."
"Okay, I understand. We'll make it look good."
"It still won't be easy, Chloe. That rogue, Putelli, has created a mess of his own. Don't reveal this to him, but we'll probably have to hand him over to face his current charges once we're done with him."
"I understand. It'll be strictly an information-gathering op."
"Just like the old days, Chloe. I'll get with Senator Nettleton's office right away."
"I'll keep you informed, Colonel."
Hanging up, I rejoiced that the IDF was on our side. A US senator was about to be brought into the game, and I had a prisoner heist to stage. But most importantly, God was on our side!
*~*
Chapter 26
It was all business picking up Brody Sladrick and Gail Benjamin at La Guardia International Airport. Brody's face appeared as fierce as ever, and Gail was gorgeous, even more beautiful than on television. The fact that she was also Mossad gave me a greater respect for her.
The way Brody and Gail moved without communicating much with one another verbally, gave me the impression they'd been working together for some time. A quick moment when their luggage got mixed up allowed me to catch an exchange of glances that told me there was more to the couple than merely being a COIL field agent team, but I said nothing.
Gail wore a scarf and a beret to try to hide her identity, but I noticed a couple of bystanders still recognize and point at the actress. It was after midnight when we left the airport.
During the drive back to COIL headquarters, I detailed the situation. Brody, sitting in the back seat, reported having seen Corban weeks earlier during a North Korean operation in which Brody had been shot in the chest. He assured me he was almost fully healed, but admitted he wasn't so young anymore.
"Getting Luigi Putelli out of lockup is only half the battle," I said. "We have to secure Corban's family and recover Corban—if they're really all still alive."
"Who else are we working with?" Gail asked from the passenger seat.
"Homeland Security is unofficially sanctioning us to grab Luigi, but our other COIL field operatives are overseas, doing what they do, as Corban would say."
"First, we need to better identify our opposition. We can't fight a ghost." Brody held my gaze in the rearview mirror. He was an intense man; handsome in a hard way. Though he was no taller than me, he was much broader in the shoulder. "I'd say we need more people, some with muscle, not just credentials."
"Speaking of which," Gail said, "we need Luigi out now; credentials will take time. How is this supposed to work?"
"The details haven't been worked out yet." My eyes were burning. I needed to sleep, if I could. "I suggest we stay in prayer over all these things until COIL is patched back together. Regardless, we fly for Lincoln tomorrow."
Somehow, though, I knew things would never be how they once were. A sickening feeling hadn't left my gut in days—ever since losing Corban's transmission a week earlier in Maryland. Neither COIL nor its people seemed to ever be left alone. The pain of agents lost in the field still plagued my heart—Quin "Toad" LuDao and Nathan "Eagle Eyes" Isaacson, to name just two I knew personally. God's true servants were always under attack.
Brody and Gail bunked in the male and female "dorms" adjacent to the offices, used for these very reasons—secure sleeping quarters for layover agents or stop-over missionaries. I pulled out a narrow hideaway bed from a soft chair in Corban's office and stared at the ceiling where the colorful lights of the city shimmered through the thick glass.
Prayer came with difficulty. There were so many things to pray for—and give to God: Corban and his family, Luigi's release, the enemies out there even now, hunting us. As spiritual as our enemies were, they were also physical. A real bomb had blown up Corban's car. Real bodies of Janice and Jenna had been found. With my worry, mixed with my lack of faith and my anticipation for the next day—I slept only two hours before there was a knock on the office door.
"We have a visitor," Brody said as I opened the door just a crack. He looked rested, and I searched his face for any sign of uncertainty, but he was too much like Corban. He shielded his emotions so he wouldn't broadcast his thoughts involuntarily and give anything away. "I'll stall him while you wake up."
"Oh. Right." I imagined what a wreck I looked. "Be right out."
Dashing to the ladies' room, I straightened my clothes. Makeup had been weaned from my face during my early years as an agent on the move—unless for disguises—so cold water and a couple slaps on the cheeks had to suffice.
"Good morning!" I greeted Brody, Gail, and a forty-something Chinese man as they rose to their feet in the waiting room. "Let's talk in the office, okay?"
Leading the way into Corban's office, I prepared my mind for the day ahead. An agent had to be sharp and quick. Five seconds was all I'd had to study the Chinese man in the waiting room. Reading him early and accurately could protect me—and COIL—from any number of blunders. For one, I didn't recognize him. He held a briefcase that had passed through COIL security, which was as tough as any agency screening in the world. His suit was dark and expensive. COIL didn't pay for extravagances, so this man was an outsider. Was I expecting such a visitor? The fact that Brody had identified him as "our" visitor meant he was related to the case at hand: Corban and Luigi. Oh, Nettleton's office was here!
The three sat down before the desk and I sat down slowly, confidently, behind it, as I'd seen Corban host dozens of meetings. I folded my hands and smiled politely at the Chinese man, who sat between my teammates. In my peripheral vision, I acknowledged Gail's hair was in a tight braid and she looked like she'd gotten eight hours of sleep.
"I understand you're from Senator Nettleton's office."
"H-how did you know that?" He let his amusement show on his face, but I recognized him to be a careful man, a man who did important jobs for important people. "I hadn't introduced myself, but only asked for you."
"COIL's ears range farther than our grasp," I said cryptically, hoping I sounded more mysterious than ridiculous. An intelligence officer bluffs when she needs to or not—or folds unexpectedly to keep the other players on edge. Until Corban was recovered, we couldn't trust anyone completely. "How is the senator?"
"He's happy to oblige where American and Israeli interests merge. We're sorry about Mr. Corban Dowler. The senator met him only recently, but they had a connection. A man of intrigue—your boss."
"And much more." Another polite smile. I gestured to Brody and Gail. "These are my people on the case. What you say to me won't leave this room."
"Very well." He placed his briefcase on his lap and opened it. "My name is Rod Chang. I'm Senator Nettleton's closest advisor. As I told Mr. Dowler several days ago, I worked for the CIA's Subversive Logistics Division. The amount of pressure in your favor from Israel is phenomenal, and we're accommodating at their insistence to allocate your intelligence staff as lead on the investigation into Mr. Dowler's whereabouts. I'm aware of each of your foreign and domestic qualifications, though none of you are more than civilians as far as this department is concerned."
His words settled into my brain, but he didn't move, perhaps waiting for me to indicate I understood the stakes. He knew we were skilled. He knew we were human intelligence veterans. He knew we were not merely civilians, but there were limits involved.
"Mr. Chang, we understand the risks you're taking as well." I nodded once. "We won't let the senator down. My briefings will be forwarded to your office, including any national security concerns, as we come upon them."
"Any time we provide Homeland Security identifications to outside entities—three, as a matter of fact—it's already considered a national security concern. The authority you're being given . . ."
Our eye contact held for a couple more breaths, then he drew a manila envelope from his briefcase. Did I sense some hesitation, something deeper or even sinister with this man? He'd said pressure had put him up to this, so he wasn't here voluntarily. To confirm my assumptions, he frowned slightly as he placed the envelope on the desk.
"Only the senator holds the purse strings," Chang continued. "People jump when he says jump. A memo for cooperation was generated, but situations like these can quickly become bureaucratic, and you may run into opposition. Please be aware that Mr. Dowler may have information directly relating to the capture or whereabouts of General Forglade. We want the general in a desperate way for the Flight 524 catastrophe. Any information you may uncover is strictly confidential. Do I make myself clear?"
