Cult Of Death

Chapter One-2

“It's not going to happen, my love. You know who I am, you know what I'm capable of.”

“That's the James Bond secret agent who you told me about after we started dating. That's not the William Shanahan I married. I remember the guy I had to stitch up after he nearly got killed on a golf course in Miami Beach. You said that'd never happen again.”

“All right, darling,” he came up and put his arms around her waist. “I'm not going if you don't want me to. All I ask is that you think about it. But I won't go if you don't want me to.”

“I keep thinking about Jack,” she put her hands over his. “You're not holding anything back from me, are you? You wanted that desk job more than anything else. Are they leveraging you into taking the assignment?”

“Of course not, precious,” he hugged her tight. “You know Gawain was always full of bluster. That night when we ran into them at the restaurant, he may have been just bragging. Lucretia was a EUROPOL agent. It makes no sense whatsoever that she could have been the Black Queen of the Citadel. The entire Citadel g**g was shipped off to Guantanamo. Any one of them could have gotten a pass by identifying her as the Black Queen. Not one of the twelve men said a word. Plus, how could have she been out in public going out to restaurants with him when all of Europe was looking for the Black Queen? The whole notion is ludicrous.”

“You told me she disappeared from EUROPOL. Why would've she walked off a job just like that? Especially after you said she was wounded.”

“You know Jack,” he put his face in her hair and breathed her fragrance. “He's got a way with women. Look how he got on with your friend Fianna, not to mention that girl from Florida, Darcy Callahan. He went AWOL on us as well. Mark O'Shaughnessy's still looking for him, but it's just for debriefing. It's quickly becoming past history, just tying up loose ends. MI6 could care less about Jack and Lucretia. If they thought Lucretia was the Black Queen, there'd be a worldwide manhunt for them. It's simply not being done, sweetheart.”

“You've already washed enough blood off these hands, William,” she turned around and took his large right hand in hers.

“I promise you,” he kissed her forehead. “I won't go unless you let me.”

And so it was that William Shanahan attended the meeting with Colonel Mark O'Shaughnessy at Vauxhall Cross that morning. He was resolute that he would make no decision without Morgana's consent. He was an Acting Deputy in the Middle East Department under Director Eric Young, who was also in attendance. There was also a strikingly beautiful young woman who he had never seen before. He was fairly certain that this was going to be the briefing for the upcoming mission. It was going to be extremely difficult to explain to Mark that he might have to back out of the operation. It might even result in losing his position in the Department, but he realized his marriage was more important. Morgana had become that precious to him.

“Captain Shanahan, this is Lieutenant Jessica Anderson,” Mark made the introduction. “She served with the Special Forces Support Group in Iraq and Afghanistan. She's a new addition to the Middle East Department and has been assigned to the Director's current project.”

“A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she gave him a firm handshake. Jessica stood 5'7” and weighed 140 pounds, with auburn hair, hazel eyes and a slight tan that William perceived came from a salon. She had an hourglass figure and a generous bosom that would make her useless on the field in the misogynistic Middle Eastern society.

“As you both know,” Mark opened the meeting, “the situation in Iraq has grown increasingly volatile over the past few months. ISIL has occupied the border regions between Syria and Western Iraq, and ISIS is in virtual control of Northern Iraq. Our American allies are the only thing that's keeping Baghdad from being overrun. The Iranians are surging across the border into Eastern Iraq by means of clandestine operations, and the Syrians are conducting their own raids into Iraq on their border. The Foreign Ministry has no intention of deploying troops, but we know full well that if the Americans are drawn into a full-scale war, we'll be sucked in right behind them.”

“Our major concern is their capture of abandoned Iraqi chemical weapons factories in Northern Iraq. Most of the plants were certified by UN inspectors to have been rendered inoperable. That hardly means that they can't be put back together again with the millions of dollars being donated to their cause by Sunni billionaires throughout the region,” Young spoke up.

“So you'll need a team to go in and make sure ISIS can't finish anything they may have started.”

“Captain Shanahan has a unique talent for cutting to the chase that I'm sure the Director is familiar with,” Mark explained to Jessica after a short pause. “Of course, the situation is a tad more complicated than it may seems, so permit me to go over the mundane details.”

“My apologies, sir, I didn't mean…”

“I'm certain you did not, Captain,” Mark said coolly. “Nonetheless, we would not want to pass along any classified information concerning this operation without feeling confident that you are absolutely clear as to what will be required.”

“Most certainly, sir.”

“Very well. Your mission will be to move into the Sunni areas from Baghdad, posing as converts to Islam who wish to participate in the jihad. You will then make your way into ISIS territory and locate the key figures in the enemy infrastructure. Your objective is to locate any and all chemical arsenals in ISIS' possession and take steps to assure their destruction.”

“So we're going to search the ntire Iraqi desert and blow up the ISIS chemical arsenal,” William mused. “Do you think there might be time for some sightseeing in Tehran?”

“If you will allow me,” Eric grew testy. “As you are well aware, the Israelis have a major stake in the outcome. All of the participants in this conflict share a mutual desire to annihilate the State of Israel. We have contacted both the Americans and the Israelis. We have the assurances of the CIA and the Mossad that we will have their full cooperation. Two of the Israelis' top agents will be in contact with you in Baghdad. They will be working with you to complete this mission. Your team will have full access to both the CIA and Mossad's network, as well as the air and artillery support of the United States Army.”

“If I may, sir,” William spoke up. “The Muslims hold women in almost as low esteem as they do Jews. Suppose things were to go sideways out there at any point. I could find myself working alone if they were to sequester Lieutenant Anderson and liquidate the Israelis.”

“This is a joint operation, Captain,” Mark pointed out. “You're working alongside the Israelis, not with them. If they are taken off the field you would follow standard procedure. The Lieutenant's job is to manipulate the segregation to her advantage. The female population is considered inferior and non-threatening. The situation will provide its own cover.”

“Any questions, Lieutenant? Captain?”

“Not at this time, sir.”

“Colonel, may I have a word?”

“Certainly. Dismissed, Lieutenant. Thank you, Mr. Director.”

“I hope this has nothing to do with a sightseeing tour of Tehran,” the 6'4”, 300-pound Colonel leaned back in his seat once the door closed.

“No sir, although it is somewhat of an unusual request.”

“Pray tell.”

“I'm going to need you to call my wife to get her permission for me to go.”

Jack Gawain woke up and found himself in a darkened room resembling a police interrogation room. He was incensed that he had been apprehended after being subjected to such drastic measures. Even more vexing was the act that Lucretia had just gotten out of the shower and might have been wet or n***d if she was tasered. He was handcuffed and fitted with restraining straps and ankle locks, and obviously they had anticipated him coming out of his stupor by now.

“So were ye silly bastards watching me sleep?”

“Ready to talk?” the man across the metal table asked.

“Where's Luci?”

“She's talking to somebody else.”

“Well, who the feck are you and where am I?”

“You're at the Metropolitan Correctional Center. I'm Bob Probert with the CIA. We could step aside and let the DA's Office deliver an indictment for unauthorized possession of automatic weapons. Of course, they'd probably turn you over to the FBI, who would have to give you up to Homeland Security. They would nail you for aiding and abetting, and Lucretia Carcosa could end up in Guantanamo on suspicion of being the Black Queen of the Citadel.”

“Real tug o' war ye've got goin' here, mate,” Jack lounged back in his chair. “Obviously ye think I've somethin' t' offer, or ye wouldn't be here blowin' smoke up my arse.”

“The problem you've got is that you're not MI6, you're an operative. That's about a half step above what the UDA (*Ulster Defense Association) used to call a supergrass (*informant),” the husky agent leaning in the corner behind Probert spoke up. “We let MI6 know you're here as a courtesy. They may make an attempt to get you back for debriefing over Operation Citadel, but Carcosa's gonna fall right through the cracks.”

“Aye, so what's yer offer?”

“We want you and Carcosa to come to work for us. We've already painted the broad strokes for MI6, we'll be filling in the fine lines should you accept the deal,” Probert replied. “They already got all the intel they needed about the Citadel from your ex-partner, William Shanahan. They're willing to wait to debrief you on what you know about Carcosa. Our mutual interests in the so-called Islamic State make MI6 more than happy to oblige us.”

“Ye mean that jackpot they're playin' fer over there in Iraq? That's an army the Sunnis put together, it's not a terrorist group anymore. At least that's how th' BBC puts it. Besides, they don't like Christians an' they don't like women on either side. I don't see how we'll be of any use.”

“We'll be the judge of that,” the second agent said. “The whole planet has videos of your girlfriend threatening the US and NATO with a dirty bomb attack. She asked for a ransom of one billion dollars. You were the one who blocked her attempt at the Eiffel Tower. After that you disappeared along with her at her hideout in the Carcassonne. That's where we recovered a Soviet-made nuclear warhead. I don't see where either of you have a choice here.”

“Talk is cheap, fellow. We saw the tapes. I don't think that Black Queen looks much like Luci at all. Plus, as ye say, I'm the lad who saved th' Eiffel Tower. I should be a national hero in France right now.”

“We'll see how far that flies when the French people find out you're been shacked up with Carcosa for the past few months,” the agent retorted.

“I'm sure they'll appreciate me taste in women. An' let's not forget that she's a decorated EUROPOL agent. She may have gone AWOL, but it don't put ye anywhere near framin' her fer bein' the Black Queen.”

“Wanna take that chance, Gawain? You know Guantanamo is our version of the Roach Motel. Roaches check in and they don't check out. When she goes in, we'll tell her you rolled to keep from having to go there yourself. She'll never have the opportunity to find out for herself. And it'll fairly well guarantee you'll never see her again to tell her your side.”