H&K: Path of Knowledge

Chapter 8

Sarasin was parked in the lot as Hank pulled up next to the van. As soon as Sarasin got out of the van, Hank got out of the Mustang. Sarasin saw Bob sitting in the passenger seat.

Damn, Adaline, you look as hot as ever, Hank thought to himself as he eyed the brunette.

“Changed your hair color again, I see. It was red the last time I saw you,” Hank remarked.

“Keep them guessing, I say. Besides, the red hair was what you liked, if I remember correctly?” Sarasin said as she approached him. “Still like what you see, though?”

“I do remember and I reserve the right to remain silent,” Hank replied with a chuckle.

For the briefest moment, the two made eye contact. The two fought the urge to rush into the other’s arms. But the past was the past, and there was a lot of water under that bridge.

“Who’s your friend?” Sarasin asked.

“This is Bob Roy, Officer Bob Roy of the Philadelphia Police Department.” Hank motioned for Bob to join them.

Bob walked up beside Hank as the side door of the van slid open. Sarasin smiled as her team presented themselves. Hank recognized Bennie, Sanchez, and Lowell from Sarasin’s old unit he had been a member of. Bennie was a forty-four-year-old black male from Liberia, Africa, who stood six feet three inches tall. Jose Sanchez was a fifty-two-year-old Latino standing five feet seven inches tall with shoulder-length graying brown hair. Thomas Lowell was a fifty-six-year-old Brit who stood six feet tall with short brown hair.

“Gentlemen,” Hank said as he and Bob shook each of their hands. Hank couldn’t believe Lowell was back with the team. The last time he had seen Lowell was on a helicopter as he whisked Hank out of a hell storm between a South American government’s federal troops, rebels, and drug cartel mercenaries. At that time, Lowell had been the leader of his team, one that Hank had joined after leaving Sarasin’s team immediately after a disastrous mission.

Hank flashed back to that dreadful day years ago when he had turned his back on Sarasin and joined Lowell and the new team. A week after the failed mission at a villa in Italy, Hank found himself walking down the hall of an apartment building in downtown Berlin, Germany, straight to Sarasin’s apartment. Byrd was just exiting with his duffel bag. Hank ducked into the shadows of an intersecting hallway. Byrd and Sarasin were kissing in the hallway outside her open apartment door.

“Come back to me soon,” Sarasin told Byrd as the kiss ended.

“You know I will. I’m the best you have ever had or will ever have,” Byrd told Sarasin as he picked up his duffel bag and walked down the hall.

Hank waited down the hall until Byrd had gone. He approached the door but couldn’t bring himself to ring the doorbell. He turned around and walked away in more ways than one. Every fiber of his soul was being ripped to shreds as he walked away. As he exited the building, he called Lowell.

“I’m in. Where are you?” Hank spoke to Lowell as his temper flared.

“We’re heading to Liberia. I have two others who are already on the ground,” Lowell told him.

“Good. Where do we meet?” Hank asked. Lowell gave him the location of a small airstrip.

Four hours later, Hank was stepping from a rental car and shaking hands with Lowell. When he boarded the small plane, Hank was sure he would never see Sarasin again.

Sarasin was introducing the new members of the team, bringing Hank out of his reminiscing. Sarasin pointed out the new members. The first was Thomas Jerome, a twenty-four-year-old white male who stood five feet six inches tall that someone who seemed familiar to Hank but he couldn’t place the face. Then came Stacy Grant, a twenty-five-year-old white female with short red hair, standing five feet eight inches tall, and the closest thing to a doctor the team had with nuclear, biological, and chemical warfare background. Then Tabitha Eldridge, a twenty-five-year-old, five feet eight inches tall white female with long bright red hair, and a computer whiz. Then Emily Moore, a twenty-five-year-old African American female with short black hair, five feet four inches tall, linguist and computer whiz. Then Eric Heath, a twenty-five-year-old male of Japanese descent, five feet four inches tall, black hair, mechanic, and pilot of the team. Then Hector Gomez, a twenty-five-year-old, five feet six inches tall first-generation Latino from Los Angeles, linguist and jack of all trades. Then Mark Stidham, a thirty-one-year-old, six feet one-inch-tall African American male, long dreadlocks, specializing in robotics and explosives. The team was ten strong not counting Sarasin, and now Hank.

The whole team was cross-trained on light and heavy weapons, vehicles, medical, airborne, air assault, and amphibious assaults. The three computer gurus were Sarasin, Tabby, and Moore, and among the three, they could hack almost any system and bypass nearly every security system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Hank Logan,” Sarasin introduced. “And his friend Philadelphia Police Officer Bob Roy.”

“The Hank Logan?” Tabby asked. The new team members eyed him with skepticism.

“You sure are not what I pictured,” Jerome stated.

“What did you expect?” Hank asked. The feeling that Jerome looked so familiar to Hank puzzled him.

“Well, a cross between Marvel’s The Punisher and the Hulk. But all I see is a broken-down overweight wannabe but never was loser.” The new members laughed at Jerome’s remark. Bob eyed Hank with disbelief. “Ad…Jerome, that’s uncalled for,” Sarasin rebuked the young man.

“You’re the joker of the team, I see,” Hank remarked.

“I tell it as I see it.” Jerome smiled and looked at the others.

Hank moved so quickly, that no one, not even Jerome, could stop him. Hank grabbed the young soldier by the wrist and sent Jerome flying through the air. A moment later, Jerome was on his stomach, face buried in the dirt, with a twelve-inch Tanto blade to his throat.

“What about now?” Hank asked.

“And he’s not even mad yet,” Sanchez said.

“Do you turn green?” Jerome laughed from the ground.

The whole group busted out in laughter. Hank helped the young man up. Admiration lit Jerome’s eyes.

“Okay, now that we have all been introduced. This is still my show,” Sarasin began. “But if Hank gives you an order, I expect you to follow it. He’s the lead on this one.”

“Nice to meet the new team and see some old friendly faces as well,” Hank said. “Office Roy here is part of several civilian law enforcement anti-terrorism units. He is also part of the Homeland Security East Coast Anti-Terrorism Task Force. His wife is at the center of an issue because of Doctor Jim Martin,” Hank told them.

“I have briefed the team on the situation. Officer Roy, you need to know that Doctor Martin is just the tip of the iceberg. My unit will be assisting in this situation. You need to take your family into hiding for a while until we can get more information on what is really going on. For some reason, someone is trying to discredit you through your wife which would impact your standing with the task force. You are third in the chain of command for the Anti-Terrorism Task Force, so we suspect it all boils down to a move against the task force as a whole. Your wife just happens to be an avenue for them to exploit,” Sarasin said.

“What do you mean, an avenue to exploit?” Bob demanded.

“Exactly what I said. Whoever is behind the move against the task force, has targeted you through your wife. We have information that the families of the Director and Assistant Director are being targeted as well.” Sarasin revealed. “I can’t go into any more detail than that, at this time.”

“I’ve arranged for Bob and his family to be out of the picture for a week or so.” Hank chimed in.

“That’s good. You have my number if anything new comes up. Otherwise, I’ll call you and let you know where to meet,” Sarasin told Hank as she walked Hank and Bob to the Mustang.

As Hank turned to hug her goodbye, she kissed him full on the mouth.

“I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time,” she said, eyeing Bob sheepishly out of the corner of her eye as she turned back to the van.

“By the way, Hank, your wife’s business partner may be a target as well. From what we could find on Doctor Martin’s computer, he’s been stalking her for some time now. He’s also being released from police custody very soon,” Sarasin stated as she climbed into the van. “Still like what you see?” she called through the open window as the van pulled away.

Hank and Bob pulled out onto the main road, heading back to Bob’s home. Bob couldn’t keep his mind from racing.

“I gather from the kiss that you and Sarasin were involved at some point?” Bob asked.

“Something like that, but that was ages ago and ancient history,” Hank said. “She married someone else and I would rather forget all about it. Besides, I have Katharine now.”

“Yeah, it seemed like you really hated it when she kissed you.” Bob tried to smile.

“There was a time but not anymore,” Hank replied.

“What do we do now?” Bob let the issue concerning Sarasin drop. “Until this mess is cleared up with Doctor Martin, I’m practically useless as a police officer and with the task force. I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless. To think all this is because of my position with the task force,” Bob confided.

“Listen. It’s not all about the task force. Martin is a predator and so is his wife. Somehow, they are connected with a ploy against the task force and it only shows how deep and wide this goes. Just take Tess and the kids away to the Dude Ranch in Upstate New York for a week. Katharine will be with you and I will be just a phone call away. Stay low. Let Sarasin’s unit do its job. We will tell the wives that I still have to go out of town on business. I will stay in touch with Sarasin and her team,” Hank told Bob as they pulled up to the Roy house. “Here,” Hank handed Bob a phone.

“Are you going to stay in touch?” Bob asked.

“Yes. I will let you know everything they find out, once they tell me. That’s a burner phone. Don’t call any number you have in the past. If you do, whoever is pulling the strings on this little fiasco will be able to track you. You’ll be safe at the Dude Ranch. Don’t let anyone use their cell phones. Better yet, have them leave them at the house.” Hank told Bob as Bob climbed from the Mustang.

“Okay. Keep me up-to-date on any information you get,” Bob said as he headed into the house.

Hank headed for Center City Philadelphia, but his mind continued to reminisce about his past with Sarasin and how it ended. It had weighed heavily upon his conscience all these long years.

Bob entered the house and explained that they were going on a trip and Hank was on his way to the airport for his business trip. He explained that Hank’s business trip was unavoidable. Bob then instructed everyone to pack but not to take any electronics with them. The packing was already completed even before he had returned. Bob explained that they would stop off at the bank and get cash before leaving the city. They took Katharine’s Mercedes SUV, leaving both Tess’s and Bob’s vehicles at the house. Bob explained

that Hank would meet them at the Dude Ranch once he was finished with his assignment.

They followed Bob’s instructions. Within an hour, they had stopped at the bank, withdrew as much cash as they could, and headed north to the Dude Ranch in upstate New York. Hank, on the other hand, began making phone calls as soon as he dropped Bob off. He postponed his business trip. His employer was not happy but understood the job would be taken care of as soon as possible as usual.

Hank wondered if he would have taken Sarasin up on her offer if he had known what the future held for him. From his first meeting with Adaline Sarasin, his fate had been shaped. Soon after that meeting, Hank found himself in the back of a brown four-door Mercedes sedan sitting next to Sarasin as she handed him a thick file. The driver was introduced only as Lowell. Hank read through the file. They were heading to Paris, France, on an urgent mission.

They met up with the rest of the team. Lowell and Sanchez were there with Janet Simmons, a twenty-four-year-old white woman, communication specialist, and linguist; Todd Duncan, a twenty-two-year-old, mechanical wizard and weapon specialist; Timothy Woods, a nineteen-year-old African American man, field medic with an uncanny ability with a rifle; Robert Holcomb, a twenty-seven-year-old white man, linguist, and pilot. The last was David Wright, a twenty-one-year-old white man, supply specialist, and all-around muscle man who seemed to have something for Sarasin. Wright was overly aggressive toward Hank from the moment they met. The team was staying in the Shangri La Hotel in Paris in separate rooms on different floors. Wright was in charge of surveillance in each of the rooms for security reasons. As a cover, Sarasin had booked Hank and herself in the same room as a married couple. That first night in Paris changed their professional relationship forever.

Their assignment was to find and neutralize two Sudanese men with ties to Al Qaeda. It took three weeks, but they finally had a lead on the two. The two men had split up to oversee long-term preparations in France for subterfuge and terrorist acts. They were planting sleeper agents all through Paris and the surrounding countryside.

Hank and Sarasin caught up with the first, Ahmed Ali Omar. Ahmed was the second in command but relished the power and influence he commanded over the would-be jihadists he regularly met with and trained. Ahmed was not alone when Hank and Sarasin found him in an old warehouse. He had ten jihadist trainees with him at the time.

Hank and Sarasin had obtained entrance to the warehouse through a second-story window when an alert sentry caught them. The firefight that erupted left nine of the trainees and Ahmed dead. The tenth trainee was captured with a leg wound. Sanchez was put in charge of interrogating the man. From the trainee, they found out where the leader was hiding. Another team raided the location of Amar al-Azmah, killing six trainees, but the primary target got away.

For the next two years, Hank accompanied Sarasin on numerous assignments and neutralization of prime terrorist targets. Hank and Sarasin had become very close, spending more time together than the rest of the team. The team was broken up into smaller two-person teams for maximum efficiency. Sarasin had started seeing the Army Band member Byrd as a cover to get into an invitation-only party at a villa in Italy given by an air force colonel. One of his guests had been an operative for Al Qaeda, a very seductive female going by the name of Jennifer Tanner and the wife of Daniel Tanner, the US Deputy Chief of Missions in Italy. The hope was to flip Jennifer Tanner and obtain some most needed information.

“Why did you choose Byrd?” Hank asked Sarasin as they prepared for the mission.

“He has the right access that we need to the gala at the villa Tanner will be attending in Italy,” Sarasin responded.

“You know what he calls himself right?”

“Mr. Perfect Lips,” Sarasin laughed. “But believe me, the only perfect lips he has is for the trumpet.”

“Then why? There has to be another way. Diplomatic route? You’re still a CIA operative.” Hank was trying to control his jealousy. “We need this connection,” Sarasin stated and that was the end of the conversation.

Hank was ripped from his reminiscence as his phone buzzed. Activating the hands-free option, Sarasin’s voice blared from the phone.

“Doctor Martin has been released, and his whereabouts are unknown. He never went home and the team can’t trace him by phone or the GPS on his vehicle. He may be en route to Karen Mitchell’s home, though. His last call from his cell phone was to her home number. But now the phone is stationary and we believe he ditched it,” Sarasin informed Hank.

Hank floored the gas as he made a beeline to Karen Mitchell’s home. He had a terrible feeling about things.

“I’m en route to her house,” Hank shot back, disconnecting the call.