The Red Cell by André Gallo (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

I don’t know what we would have done without you last night,” she said struggling to maintain her composure. “Bringing your private doctor here saved my life. That bastard Yosemani killed our child. I am not going to forget it.” She touched the bruises on her cheek and forehead.

Steve took her in his arms and hugged her for a minute. Then he pulled the chair out for her, as Kristen began serving the omelet.

“By the way, Kristen,” Steve said, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Lester took over my job as the message carrier for Dalton, or should I call her ‘Nightingale?’ I don’t think he could stand having a junior officer get more face time with the president’s chief of staff than he did. He has that type of reputation in the station. Before I got here, he forced himself into an operation with high potential. The recruitment target was an Algerian code clerk. Someone else had established a personal contact with him and had developed and assessed him, but Lester horned in on the recruitment in order to take the credit. Anyway, I’m going in late this morning.”

“You all know I talked with headquarters during the night,” Steve said. “Let me bring you up to date. Bob Trent called. He’s head of the Counter Terrorism Center. He said NSA had detected a change in the pattern of the communications between the Iranian mission—much, much more chatter—and Tehran.” He took a sip of coffee and continued. “And then they plugged in the word ‘Nightingale’ in their search. It turns out our girl has been very busy these last few days getting debriefed at the Iranian Embassy.”

He looked around at everyone at the table and said, “Of course, the fact NSA is able to read Iranian communications out of Brussels is very closely held. C” Looking specifically at Colonel Vanness, he said, “You’ve been very helpful to us, Colonel, and I am treating you as a member of our team. I trust you will honor the secrecy of this information.”

“You have my word,” he replied giving Steve a military salute.

***

Later that morning, after Vanness and Kristen had left, Steve received the results of the VP meeting from LaFont by secure email. “It looks like a lot of people stayed up all night,” he said as Kella, McCabe, and Hunter sat patiently in the living room to hear their new marching orders.

“Dalton’s father worked for a tire company in Shiraz, where he met and married an Iranian girl. They gave birth to Victoria Aisha and stayed in Iran long enough for the child to attend an Iranian school, where she began a very serious Shiite education under her mother’s tutelage. The mother apparently brought her on a pilgrimage to Karbala, during which a large number of Shiites, including a brother, were killed during a Sunni attack. There is no record of her having ever been in India.”

“That only proves she lied about her place of birth. But is she a spy?” McCabe asked.

“According to the reporting from the Iranian Embassy here quoting the Nightingale, she has blown every CIA and JSOC operation in the Middle East, from Benghazi and what the CIA was doing there, to our training camps on the Turkish Syrian border, to our special-ops teams with the rebels in Syria and, of most interest to the Iranians, the locations and timing of the insertion teams we’ve been sending into Iran to locate their defensive missile sites. They also know we’ve been placing sensors all around their nuclear installations; Natanz and others. Thanks to the Nightingale, Tehran is also informed of our ship movements in the Persian Gulf.”

By now, McCabe’s mouth was gaping. “That definitely makes her a spy.”

“Spy? Hell, she’s a traitor!” snarled Hunter.

“You’re right about that!” Steve said. “It’s our job to bring her to justice.”

“If NSA has been reading the Iranian traffic, then there’s nothing new here. Except now they know the identity of the Nightingale,” Kella said.

“According to Trent,” Steve replied, “the NSA breakthrough has taken place only in the last twenty-four hours.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Kella asked. “Seems to me that, instead of canceling our rendition operation, the White House would want us to grab the general.”

“Trent said that for the moment, all we should do is keep an eye on Nightingale, although the vice president agrees with you Kella. We need to snatch the bastard. Meanwhile, the president has sent a message for her to come home. What we can do is make sure she gets on the right plane. I’ll call Vanness and tell him to get some of his watching the Nightingale, twenty-four seven.”

A few minutes later, Steve returned from his bedroom after making the call. “Okay, we’re going back to work, guys. Vanness’s team is no longer available. I think they’re still a little frazzled from their confrontation with the DuChemin group. Our target is now at the Iranian Embassy. McCabe, you and Hunter start tracking her there. Kella and I will watch for her at her apartment building.”

27. Iranian Embassy, Brussels

The Iranian ambassador, a tall man in a buttoned-up collarless shirt and suit, was followed by his secretary as he entered his conference room. She set her tray of tea and cookies on the large mahogany table and turned to leave the room.

“Thank you Leila,” Aisha said, knowing this stern-looking, hefty woman had been called on to perform a wide array of duties in her thirty years of service. She respected and liked her.

“We have been here long enough,” Yosemani said. “The White House has ordered Aisha back to Washington. The president probably wants her to prepare for direct negotiations with us; choose a staff, define negotiation options, et cetera.”

Looking at his wife, he said, “There is a KLM flight tonight that goes to Dulles Airport after transiting Amsterdam. You