One of the women placed thin magnetic signs on the sides of the van while one of the men changed the front and back license plates. For the next few minutes, any police check on the licensed van of a cleaning service by that name would exist, complete with work history and referrals.
Shortly after that, the computer files and the magnetic signs would disappear as if they’d never existed.
“Hey,” a lanky Indian youth with long black hair and a goatee greeted her.
“Hey,” Samantha said. She recognized him because she’d worked with him before, but she didn’t remember his name. Of course, there was always the possibility he’d never given it. She never gave hers. “New crew?”
He nodded and grinned, flashing white teeth. “Breakin’ ’em in. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you.” He fished equipment cases from the van’s cargo area.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“The door,” the guy said. “You get that, we’ve got the rest of this.”
“Your security card is set to run,” tech support said.
Samantha walked to the back of the Jaguar and opened the trunk. A hidden compartment held a wireless Internet-equipped magnetic strip printer. She took a security card from her pocket and ran it through the slot.
“You’re good to go,” tech support said.
Samantha walked to the door. Dressed in slacks, a plain blouse and her trench coat, she looked like a barrister rousted out of bed to handle a client who’d called from jail.
She glanced at the “cleaning” crew. All of them stood with cases in hand.
Samantha swiped the key card through the reader on the door. A second later the lock released. She opened the door and went through the dimly lit hallway. Although the building had been refurbished with new paint and new carpet, the dimensions remained as confining as they had two hundred years ago. There was only room for one person at a time up the stairs.
It would not be, she reflected, a good place to get caught.
“Indigo,” Kate Cochran said.
“Yes.” Samantha slid the card through the next security checkpoint. She breathed a little easier when the lock opened.
“We’re secure.”
Samantha knew that meant Kate had control of Hirschvogel in New York. “Understood. But I still don’t like the idea of your involvement.”
“Duly noted,” Kate replied.
Kate’s permanently unruffled demeanor irritated Samantha slightly. Kate appeared always calm, cool and collected. But that was also why she was director of Room 59. That, and the fact that when it came to it, she didn’t hesitate to get her hands bloody. Even when the blood was that of their agents.
“If there’d been another way to crack this,” Kate went on, “I would have been all for it. There wasn’t. I was the best call.”
“I still don’t have to like it.”
“It’s your op. You know I’ll always help out in whatever capacity I can. And I told you I’d cover this leg of the mission.”
“Not till it was impossible to find anyone else to do it.”
“No one could have done this as easily as I did.”
“Ego much?” Samantha asked, and she was only halfway teasing.
“Confident,” Kate countered.
A SECURITY CAMERA mounted on the wall ahead tracked back to Samantha. “Support, did we know about the on-site video security?” she asked.
“We now own the on-site video security,” the woman replied. “Wave at the camera and I’ll get you some prints ready for Christmas cards. ’Tis the season for breaking and entering.”
Samantha smiled. “Brilliant,” she said sarcastically.
“I can do them up nice. Santa and his little elves standing in the background.”
“I’ll pass.” Samantha waved at the video camera. She slid the card through the next reader and entered the foyer on the fourth floor.
She walked quickly to the third office on the left. The card got her through that door, as well, and they entered a conference room.
“All right, people,” the young computer wizard said as he put the cases he carried on the big table. “Let’s get clandestine.” He cracked his knuckles theatrically.
As Samantha watched, the five techs quickly assembled a mission-control station made up of various computers, monitors and miniature satellite receivers. Tech support monitored the communications, but they were going live on the mission they were currently involved in. Once they had all the satellite links in place, Room 59 would be operational.
The designation Room 59 described the virtual command post that could be set up anywhere. Once it was live, it pulled in significant espionage satellite links that could be traced back by various international intelligence agencies. MI-6, the British watchdog of the international scene, would immediately begin sniffing them out. So would MI-5, their domestic equivalent.
Other international spy groups, if interested in what took place in Istanbul at the moment, would also try to find them if they were noticed. Every time Room 59 was alive and active, it could be a cat-and-mouse game. Not all of the international community was willing to let the personnel and invisible agents of the clandestine espionage group operate unchallenged.
“Have you asked your guest about the business taking place in the target area?” Samantha asked Kate.
“No. I’ve been waiting to get confirmation of a green light.”
Samantha silently agreed. There was no reason to make Hirschvogel aware that they knew about his operations. If their campaign didn’t pan out, they didn’t want to give away their source of information or interest.
“I’ll let you know the minute we’re green,” Samantha said. “How bad is the situation there?”
“We’re intact,” Kate said, “but there are three losses.”
Meaning that Jacob Marrs had killed the three security men. When it came to protecting Kate, Samantha knew Jake never hesitated.
“Will you need cleanup there?”
“Negative. Our guest is used to cleaning up after himself, and he’ll be properly motivated to do a good job of it.”
Okay, that was a point in their favor. Now if everything happened correctly in Istanbul, it was going to be a good evening’s work.
4
Istanbul
Ajza sat in the back seat of the cargo van and tried not to look nervous. She thought about the cargo they planned to pick up and how cruelly Turkish laws dealt with criminals regarding drugs. Considering the fact that she was more or less on her own—except for the exfiltration team she hadn’t talked to in weeks—she thought she was holding up pretty well.
As it had been for hundreds of years, the marketplace was a gathering place for merchants, local buyers and tourists. Only a few of the tourists walked through the aisles, along with those in search of early-morning bargains. Mostly the hawkers and buskers pursued the regular customers, people who’d come to market early to buy fresh vegetables for meals.
Ajza loved the Anatolian side of Istanbul. The city stood proudly, the only one in the world to straddle two continents. As a result, throughout history, armies and peacemakers of the East and the West met there to do battle and to reach trade agreements.
The Bosphorus Strait cut the city in two. The brown water flowed