Black's Magic Part 14

"You think she's attracted to me?" Skyler couldn't keep the pleased note from her voice and she would have preened a little had her forearms not been duct taped to the arms of the seat she was in. "I mean, if she did come after us and she is so skilled, why would that be a good thing?"

Brodie turned to return to the c.o.c.kpit. "Because, my sweet Skyler, caring about someone gives you a weakness. Addison has never had a weakness before and it's going to lead to her long overdue destruction." Agnes pulled open the door to the c.o.c.kpit, but was stopped when Skyler called out to her.

"Brodie! I can't do anything to stop it, so will you satisfy my curiosity? Where are we going?"

Agnes studied her immobilized captive and decided she could be generous. "Ever been to the Holy Land, Skyler?" She laughed and disappeared into the c.o.c.kpit.

s.h.i.t, the American thought. We're going to the Middle East.

"So I told them everything about Project Gemini. I didn't want to, but they convinced me that they still had Skyler and I couldn't stand the thought of what they would do to her. After I met Brodie I knew Skyler's life would mean nothing to that woman," Marlene concluded. She had just spent the last several minutes describing her abduction and captivity to Addison and Mark Blithe.

"I didn't think anyone knew where I was and I had no choice when Brodie threatened Skyler. She's my daughter and my only family. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep her safe." Her voice broke then and tears appeared in her eyes.

"That's perfectly understandable, Marlene," the general soothed. "No one could expect you to be able to withstand that kind of pressure." During her account, Mark had moved to a chair next to her and had placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The American looked up at him in grat.i.tude.

Addison had remained standing during this time, but now she moved to sit on the spot on the desk that the general had vacated. "I know you're tired and upset, Professor, but I need to know about Project Gemini. It wasn't so important before, but if I'm to get your daughter back I need to have all the information that Agnes Brodie has."

Marlene nodded. "I understand and I'll be more than glad to do anything I can to help."

"Just put it in layman's terms, if you will," Addison requested. "Not all of us are as smart as Skyler."

Marlene smiled. "Not many people are, it can be a little daunting."

"Just a little," Addison agreed. "Now, about Project Gemini?"

"Yes, well I suppose you know some of the basics. My work was using the tuberculosis bacterium as a vehicle to deliver chemotherapy to cancer victims. We found that by removing the virulent part of the cell that we could replace it with something beneficial. We turned something deadly into something potentially lifesaving. That was the two sided nature of the work." Marlene looked down and wrung her hands together. Taking a deep breath, she continued.

"One day I was visited at the college by a representative from the federal government. He said they were impressed with my work, but did I realize that the research could be used for purposes other than which it was intended? The very aspect that made the bacilli so useful, its high transmissibility, was what could make it potentially the greatest delivery agent for all kinds of chemical or biological weapons. Just imagine a new type of suicide bomber. He allows himself to be infected or carries the bacilli that have been loaded with some kind of bacterial agent. Anthrax, Ebola, smallpox...the list is potentially endless. The tuberculosis bacillus is highly transmissible, especially effective in a crowded area. That's the reason you see so much tuberculosis in prisons and slums. So lets say this guy walks into a subway or a sporting event or a meeting of Congress. One pa.s.s and he infects dozens who infect dozens more. It's a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions in no time. I couldn't let that happen to my work."

"How did you come to England to work?" Addison questioned. "It seems like the United States would want you where they could supervise you in this work."

"That's just it, it wasn't only the US that was interested. Britain and the US both wanted to make sure that the research wouldn't fall into the wrong hands and wanted us to come up with a way to deactivate the bacilli should that very thing happen. We wanted to turn what might be a deadly bacillus into a benign one again. That was the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde work we were involved in and that's why the project was called Gemini, after the Greek twins. I was offered complete use of the facilities at the University here to pursue my work and I took it."

"And now Agnes Brodie and whoever she is working for or with has it too." Addison's voice was grim.

"I'm afraid so," Marlene said apologetically. "The only bright spot is that the technology is very advanced. Even with the information I gave them, it will take weeks to get to the point where they will be able to extract the tuberculosis from the bacillus. The process can't be shortened or the risk of not neutralizing the bacillus is too great. They might just end up causing their own demise."

Mark Blithe interjected, "So, you're saying we have some time, just not a great deal of it."

"Right," Marlene agreed. "Even with the most modern laboratory facilities I would say they would need three weeks at a minimum."

Addison stood. "I'll prepare to leave right away. I have several things to take care of, but I should be on my way by morning. Professor, I... I think your daughter and I became friends of a sort during our brief time together. As determined as I was before to get her back, I am even more determined to bring her back now." Addison said no more but her expression spoke volumes to the other two people in the room. She nodded at them and left the office.

In the next office, Antonia Bakersfield was busy working at her computer's keyboard. Addison sauntered over to her and flashed the same saucy grin she always used to charm the general's secretary. "How's the woman with the best fingers in HQ?"

Antonia blushed. "And how would you know? You've never given me the chance to show you."

"I'm pretty sure I couldn't handle you, Antonia. Besides, I'm just a humble public servant. I'm not allowed to provide you with fringe benefits."

Antonia laughed at Addison's harmless flirting. "Well, if you ever change your mind, I'll be happy to provide you with excellent service."

"I'll keep that in mind, Miss Bakersfield. In the meantime, can you book me a flight? Tomorrow, commercial or military, it doesn't matter. Final destination is Tel Aviv."

"No problem, Agent Black. Any special needs?" She used the Special Ops code for weapons.

"No thanks, I can handle the rest of the details. When you have the arrangements completed, could you contact me down in Samuel's lab? I need to see him and have some quality time with Spike before I leave."

"No problem, Addison. I'll call you when everything is set."

"You're a dream, Miss Bakersfield," the agent said as she headed out the door.

"Spike, I missed your furry little a.r.s.e!" Addison whispered as the scruffy little dog bathed her face with short licks from a pink tongue. The dog was finally calming down after greeting Addison with unabashed excitement.

Samuel walked into the lab then with a flat box. "The size should be about right."

Addison tucked Spike under one arm as she approached the scientist. "Leather, right?"

"Would you wear anything else?" Samuel asked as he opened the box to reveal exquisitely crafted black leather driving gloves.

"Nice," Addison commented. She set Spike onto a nearby table and pulled the gloves from the box. "They're strong enough to protect the palms but not heavy enough to get in my way. Hmm, they just need a minor adjustment." She pulled open a drawer on Samuel's desks and extracted a large pair of scissors.

"Oh, Addison, you wouldn't! I worked hard on making these special gloves and there's no..." Samuel trailed off in dismay as the agent neatly snipped off all the fingers. Setting the scissors down, she slipped the gloves on and flexed her hands.

"Perfect, I'll take them. Come on, Spike, there's sausages with our names on them. Then we have to talk about how badly you've treated Samuel while I was gone and how I'm sure you won't act like that again while I'm out of the country...starting tomorrow." She heard a wail of pain from Samuel as she closed the door to the lab. "Gee, Spike, you'd think Uncle Samuel isn't looking forward to being your roommate again."

The agent bent over and scooped up the little dog in her gloved hands. "Maybe later we can talk about an unusual woman I met recently. I think you'd like her." Spike tilted her head, hearing a tone of voice from her mistress that she hadn't heard before. It was going to be an interesting evening.

Chapter 14.

Addison had to hand it to Miss Bakersfield. If there was one thing she could rely upon it was her ability to deliver. The flight to Tel-Aviv had been a smooth, luxurious crossing. First cla.s.s was the only way to travel and at the government's expense just sweetened the deal. She made a mental note to thank the general's secretary, not, however, in the way she had often insinuated in the past.

Although Addison came to meet Antonia Bakersfield when they were drafted into Special Operations, Addison had been aware of her, in name, almost a year before. Antonia had served in the armed forces herself. She was injured in an incident of friendly fire and had lost the hearing in her right ear. Miss Bakersfield had never wanted to leave the military and when General Mark Blithe approached her with a job proposition, she readily accepted. She and Addison were some of the first to arrive at Special Operations H.Q. They connected immediately as friends, though their flirtatious banter remained.

Winters in Israel did pretty much resemble a British summer. As Addison stepped out into the Middle Eastern sun, she pushed a pair of dark shades over her eyes. The atmosphere was warm and the scent of recent rainfall clung to the air. A clear blue sky stretched above the land. Addison felt warm solar rays bathe her skin, the heat enhanced by her dark attire. Black combat boots and trousers were hardly summer wear. Her white tank top would have been moderately acceptable if not for the black shirt hanging loose and undone over the top. That was unavoidable and the only way to conceal the weapons attached to the back of her belt. Although Addison held identification and credentials to carry such weapons, to the average civilian they would appear suspicious, especially on an international aircraft.

Slinging a small rucksack over her shoulder, Addison stepped further into the sunshine. People busied themselves about, anxious to get from point A to point B. She heard both Hebrew and English spoken around her. Across the road, Addison saw a rugged, black cat, one of many feral felines she would expect to encounter in Israel.

Turning to her right, Addison left Sde Dev airport. She scanned the road ahead, searching for available transportation. Finding a taxi wasn't difficult, as public transportation was always readily obtainable by any airport. Spotting a white car, Addison adjusted her shades and jogged over to the vehicle. She leaned into the pa.s.senger side window finding an aging gentleman with a white beard behind the wheel. He looked to her, anxious for a fare.

"Where can I take you?"

"My Place," Addison said and slid into the pa.s.senger seat.

Her driver nodded wordlessly and pulled out onto the road. Though Tel-Aviv itself was a hub of modernization, Addison's required destination was just outside the main city, near the beautiful and historical port called Jaffa. My Place was a bar situated in a lesser-populated part of the city. It wasn't an area visited by tourists or holidaymakers. In fact, if you hadn't have been previously introduced, you probably wouldn't even know it existed. Its name had confused Addison on first encounter but she soon discovered that many bars in Israel often had English names.

Addison gazed silently out the cab window. Coming to Israel was a leap, some would say a guess, but to Addison it was an educated guess. Not only did she consider the evidence she found on the Isle of Skye, but also, it was known that Brodie did have contacts in Israel. That and the fact that she had spent several years living in Bethlehem and her activity during that time had been little known. Addison was confident in her beliefs and a planned meeting with an old friend would help secure those points.

Her drive took almost half an hour but as the cab pulled up outside My Place, Addison handed over thirty-five shekels and stepped out into the narrow street. She stood to the side as several people on bicycles rode past her. Addison approached a set of stone steps and descended down to a small door. She pulled it open and stepped inside.

My Place was large and dimly lit. It had no windows so natural lighting wasn't available. Low powered lighting illuminated the bar and several tables held candles wedged into liquor bottles. Conversation was limited to a low hum; men at small tables discussed work or played card games for small amounts of money. The aroma of years of stale cigarette smoke hung in the atmosphere. It clung to furniture and walls like it was indeed part of the establishment's character. Fresh filtering smoke left a steamy glaze in the room, distorting vision like the misty grip of an early morning fog.

Approaching the bar, Addison sat on an empty stool. A young man with slicked back brown hair and holding a towel while drying a shot gla.s.s leaned against the counter. He smiled as his eyes gave her a brief inspection.

"Vema ani yachol la'ashot bishvilech?"

"Jack Daniels, toda," then added, "kafull," as an after thought. If she was going for the good stuff, she might as well get her money's worth.

The bartender nodded and disappeared momentarily, returning with a double shot of whiskey. He placed it on the bar-top. "Fifty-five shekels."

Addison slid payment across the counter, leaving a tip as she took her drink. She strolled over to a vacant table in the corner of the bar and sat down. Placing down the gla.s.s, Addison pulled a candle towards her and ran her fingers through the orange flame. The flesh of her fingertips turned black as the warmth increased.

"You ought to be more careful," a strong accented voice said. "You could burn more than the leather fingertips of your gloves."

Holding back a smirk, Addison pulled her hand away and looked up and to her left. A familiar face stood above her, his expression neutral. Brown eyes gazed upon her with caution. Rising to her feet, the agent stood eye level with her old acquaintance. The pair studied each other silently. An air of tension expanded between them, but it was Addison who made the first move. Holding out her hand she supplied a small smile.

"Alon, it's been a while." Alon hadn't changed, Addison noted. His hair was still cropped in a short, convenient style. It was the kind of look that needed no maintenance when he rose from a night's sleep. A deep scar around his left eye looked a little more faded in colour, but was still highly noticeable.

Her hand was accepted and Alon shook the appendage firmly. "Addison Black, I was surprised to know it was you I would meet."

"You should know never to underestimate me, Alon." Addison offered a chair to Alon as she sat. He followed suit, taking a chair opposite her. Addison picked up her Jack Daniels.

"I learned that lesson after you slept with my sister, Agent Black."

The agent sighed, placing down her gla.s.s. "It was two years ago... Agent Yamburg... and I told you back then I didn't know Shiri was your sister. I thought we went over this." Addison took a drink of whiskey. "I'm not here to dredge up the past, Alon. I have important business."

As much as Addison would have argued her point, she didn't have the time. Every second that pa.s.sed was added time Skyler spent alone and in the hands of Agnes Brodie. Arguing events that transpired over two years ago were of no consequence or interest to her.

The brief night Addison spent with Alon's sister was nothing more than the result of too much drink and the rush of a winner's high. She had been playing poker with Alon and three of his friends in this very bar. It had been going for a while and the drinks had been constant. Thinking he had a good hand, and not having enough money to back him, a drunken Alon had placed Shiri, who was serving behind the bar, in the pot. He lost. Fortunately, he acknowledged in relief, Addison had won the hand and his sister. What possible outcome would that have? He thought! It didn't turn out to be the best way to discover his sister's s.e.xual preference.

Alon leaned back in his chair. "Right... well I understand you are tracking down a known criminal who you believe has entered this country." Alon placed a black briefcase upon the table separating them. He pulled out several sheets of paper. "We ran a check on everybody who entered the country in the time span you gave us." He pushed the papers over to Addison. "We didn't find the name Agnes Brodie listed anywhere. In fact, apart from basic evidence detailing her living in Bethlehem, we have nothing on her at all."

The agent frowned and scanned the doc.u.ments. There had to be something. "What about monitored activity you guys have been running?"

Alon Yamburg was an agent for the Mossad, Israel's CIA and otherwise known as the Inst.i.tute for Intelligence and Special Tasks. Addison knew with their help she would be able to find Brodie if she were in this country. Like the United States' CIA, the Mossad was responsible for all human intelligence collection, covert action and counter-terrorism. They had eyes and ears everywhere.

Nodding, Alon opened a black folder. "We have many organisations under surveillance. I ran data links and found something that could be useful to you."

The agent's interest was piqued. Drinking down the remainder of her Jack Daniels, Addison dragged her chair around to sit beside Alon. "Tell me."

Alon opened a map. "There is a research plant here." Alon pointed to an area of desert in the southern area of Israel, close to Eilat. "It is owned by a Dr. Kleein; this is a name we have no information on."

"Okay?" Addison asked in confusion.

"But it is run by a woman called Sadie Bregon." Agent Yamburg took the top sheet of names of people who had entered the country in the past twenty-four hours. His finger tapped the fourteenth name upon the sheet. "She touched down in Eilat early this morning."

"Sadie Bregon?" Addison read the name over and again. Her fingers drummed upon the table as she studied Alon's information.

"She entered the country with fifteen a.s.sistants and cargo. The laboratory she runs is said to test cosmetics made by minerals obtained from the Dead Sea."

Addison pulled a pen from Agent Yamburg's case. She twirled it around her fingers in thought.

"What is it?" Alon asked as Addison began striking a line through the letters of Sadie Bregon's name.

"It's just occurred to me that if you rearrange the letters of Sadie Bregon..."

"Yes?" Alon asked.

Addison grinned. "You get Agnes Brodie!"

"You do?" Alon rechecked the letters. "This is a very interesting development. But we still don't know about Dr. Kleein or who he is."

"Hmm." Addison rechecked the map. "But at least I have a destination." She rose from her chair. "I know where I'm heading."

"Where we are heading!" Alon piled the doc.u.ments back in his case and stood beside Addison. "You know I have to accompany you on this, Addison. Besides, I can get us on a flight to Eilat within the hour."

Addison folded her arms. She knew the Mossad would demand one of their agents work with her but she had one condition. "Fine, but I call the shots. This is my mission and I have much riding on this, Alon. I know Brodie. We have to do this my way."

"You know the guidelines I have to follow, Addison, but we can work together. We did once before, remember? This time though, we will stay away from celebrating a successful mission."

Addison smirked and shook Alon's hand. "You have a deal, Agent Yamburg."

Deep breath, keep your eyes open. Skyler repeated those words like a mantra and slowly she started to feel better. She didn't know if it was the sound advice she remembered from her first aid cla.s.s or the fact that it had been several hours since Brodie had given her the vile tasting liquid.

Skyler wasn't sure of exactly what comprised the noxious c.o.c.ktail but she knew for certain it contained Ipecac elixir. She knew that by the almost immediate vomiting she'd done. The fact that she was given the liquid on the way into the airport from the plane gave her an idea of what Brodie had planned. The cramping, nausea and dizziness that accompanied the frank vomiting were as unpleasant a side effect as Skyler ever hoped to suffer from.

Two "a.s.sociates" of Brodie's helped her walk into the airport while Brodie took charge of getting her past Immigration and Pa.s.sport Control. She handed over a British pa.s.sport to the waiting Israeli official.

"I warned her not to eat the steak and kidney pie at that pub, but would she listen to me? I'm afraid Dr. Simpson is an independent woman with a mind of her own. Of course, it might have been the several pints of Guinness that she consumed along with the pie, eh?" Agnes winked at the official as she handed over her own pa.s.sport as well. Skyler could see Brodie was traveling under an Israeli pa.s.sport and wished she had the strength to yell out to the official or alert airport security.

The official was solicitous of her condition and offered to summon an ambulance, but Brodie a.s.sured him that it would not be necessary and that she would be taken to her private doctor as soon as they entered Eilat. If there was one thing Skyler understood about Brodie, it was that they would be nowhere near Eilat. Unfortunately for Skyler's stomach, she had been correct.

Skyler, Brodie, several helpers and a small mountain of packing crates had been loaded into waiting trucks and they had headed out into the countryside. Though Skyler was wedged between a large henchman at the wheel of a truck and Brodie on the pa.s.senger side, the fresh air blowing in the window was very welcome. It was warm but not oppressively hot and they went through several checkpoints without incident. A gun to Skyler's ribs a.s.sured her continued silence. For the time they were on the paved highway the journey wasn't so bad, but the moment they turned off onto a dirt and gravel track, Skyler knew her tenuous control over the residual nausea was lost.

The sour taste of stomach acid in her mouth was a small price to pay for the outraged look on Brodie's face when Skyler expelled the liquid remnants of her gut directly on the Irishwoman's shoes. The convoy of trucks ground to a momentary halt as Brodie leaped out and cleaned her shoes on the spa.r.s.e vegetation in the area they were pa.s.sing through.

The group of trucks continued on its trek in a southerly direction and headed into a bleak area, mountainous and unwelcoming. The road deteriorated to a wide, winding trail and steep hills shot up on either side. The perfect place for an ambush Skyler thought as there would be little cover for anyone foolish enough to follow Brodie's trail through there.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the convoy broke free of the mountainous terrain and emerged into a relatively flat valley. Being in the lead truck afforded Skyler a view of what lay ahead. A group of obviously new buildings was situated in the middle of the valley, well away from the steep slopes present on all sides. It's like a box canyon in the western States Skyler thought, very secure, very safe and virtually impregnable. It was not a comforting thought.

As they moved nearer the compound, Skyler noted that they were headed for the largest building. She wondered at how such a large base had been built so far from the general populace. That question was answered when she spied a helipad to the side of the group of buildings. A wall circled the compound and at regular intervals there were elevated guard towers manned by serious looking men and women with automatic weapons. Patrolling the grounds were teams with dogs. Skyler had been to two previous establishments that Brodie had been connected with, but this third one was obviously the most heavily fortified of them all.

The American's spirits sank as she viewed the compound. The possibilities for escape would be very slim. Slim, h.e.l.l... face it, Skyler, they're nonexistent.