Brad Taylor - Enemy of Mine

When he was complete, he typed his cell phone number into the IMSI grabber alarm function, and powered it up, waiting a minute until it was operational. He saw it sucking in numbers from all over the building.

Having been on the receiving end of cell phone compromises in Lebanon, he’d made a concerted effort to understand their function. He knew that all cell phones constantly look for the tower with the greatest signal strength, switching back and forth seamlessly to the user. It was a distinctly modern weakness that he intended to exploit.

The IMSI grabber acted like a miniature cell tower, causing any cell phones in range to register with it. Used by law enforcement-and other unsavory types-to collate data and potentially listen in to cell conversations, it would lock up any cell phone in range, rendering the phone useless. In this case, it would also trigger the explosives. All the Ghost had to do was input the envoy’s number into the grabber, once he found it.

He turned on his cell phone. Within seconds, his number appeared in the IMSI grabber, the phone duped into thinking it was the closest tower. A red LED lit up, signaling the alarm. He looked at the WiFi transmitter and saw a green LED. The detonator on the cables lit up as well, calmly blinking on and off. The connection worked.

Now, had he inserted the blasting caps, the system would be armed. When the elevator began to lower again, the connection between the brushes would be broken, and the explosives would go off-sending the envoy to his demise in a terrifying free fall.

He smiled at the thought. At the ingenuity of the plan. The grisly death would be perfect for propaganda. To show the world the might of the Palestinian people, no matter the ridiculous attempts at peace going on.

He reset the IMSI grabber, zeroing out his phone number. He saw the green LEDs shut off and inserted the blasting caps.

In twenty-four minutes the second elevator was rigged exactly like the first. He had no idea which elevator the envoy would be in and wanted to ensure both fell to their doom.

Finished with the primary, he searched for the brake cable of both elevators. Without cutting them, the elevator would fall for about a floor, then gradually slow by friction applied to the rails through specially constructed shoes. The brake itself was triggered by the speed of the elevator. If the cable attached to it reached a certain velocity, a flywheel was engaged, causing the brakes to be applied.

For the first time, he noticed no other cable. The brake should have been on the side, away from the main cables holding the weight of the elevator itself, but there was nothing. He made a concerted search and came up dry.

He exited the room, finding Hamid nervously talking to a businessman from one of the upper-floor suites. He waited until the man walked away, then approached. Hamid was sweating profusely, his skin sickly white.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing. He simply wanted to report a faulty bathroom.”

The Ghost realized Hamid had no stomach for the work. He regretted showing his hand with the elevators, knowing Hamid would spill his guts if captured. He’s not a fighter. I shouldn’t have placed so much on him. It sank home that he needed to eliminate the weakness. Get rid of the link that would cause failure. He looked at Hamid’s wilted face, slightly panting, and knew he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. What was to come was to come. He didn’t have it in him to kill his friend and wished he had not drawn on him for help. Wished he’d used Hezbollah contacts instead, even given the risk.

“Where is the brake cable for the elevators? I can’t find it.”

“There is no cable. It’s a new system that works on radar. It’s computer controlled and constantly monitored. A network continuously assesses the speed of the elevator, and if it reaches a certain velocity, it shunts the brakes.”

“Where is this system?”

“In the basement we entered.”

In short order, they were back where they started, with Hamid showing the braking architecture. It consisted of a radar array aimed up into each elevator shaft, reading the speed of the cars, not unlike the radar guns used in a police speed trap.

The Ghost said, “Can we just shut it off? Disable it?”

“No. The elevators go through a computerized self-test. If the brake system isn’t in operation, neither is the elevator.”

The Ghost opened his cell phone, enabled the WiFi feature, and saw he had no signal. Which meant there was no way to initiate explosives down here. He couldn’t slave into the main on the elevators.

“Where is the last WiFi node? How far does it extend?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I do know the lobby for the Armani Hotel is right above us, and it has WiFi.”

The Ghost considered. He would have to return to the electronics souk and buy a WiFi repeater, but it should work. If he placed one in the shaft of the elevator, it should be able to expand the signal from the lobby and allow his system to talk. He had to come back here tomorrow to input the American’s cell phone number anyway. The problem was he would have little time, risking the envoy setting off the trap while he was still constructing it.

It was the best he could do.

My cell phone vibrated with a single word: JACKPOT.

I dialed Decoy’s phone. “Hey, man, you can’t simply send a text like that. What do you have?”

“The phone grid was right on. It’s his. He’s sitting in a white-panel van outside a small indoor shopping area. No movement. Doesn’t appear to be doing anything in the van. Just sitting.”

I thought about what Lucas could be doing. “What’s in the shopping center? Can you tell?”

“Looks like electronics. Cell phones, cameras, that sort of thing. He’s got a local in the driver’s seat, but they’re not talking.”

So he has help. I didn’t want to talk too much on an open cell phone, and let the rest of my questions drift away. We’d left our concealed radios and other kit in Lebanon, and until we could get more, I was stuck with a standard cell phone. Knuckles, Decoy, and Brett had their Taskforce phones, which allowed them to communicate together in real time, but I could only go point-to-point, which was going to be a pain in the ass as surveillance chief.

We’d gotten the go-ahead to launch to Dubai last night. It was a little bit of good news/bad news for me. I’d told Kurt we had a lead, then how we’d found it. Saying he was a little pissed was putting it mildly. He’d about ripped the computer apart in front of him. In the end, I’d convinced him that I’d used my judgment, just like I was paid to do, and we’d found a solid anchor for Lucas. I knew he’d calm down, because he was smart enough to know there was no sense yelling about it now. What’s done is done.

He’d spent a little more time chewing my ass, then ran out of steam, turning back to the operation. He almost grudgingly ran the cell number we’d located, and it had pinged as active in Dubai. Even better, he’d already launched our equipment bundle to Europe the day before, and it was due to hit a drop zone in the desert south of Dubai later this afternoon.

We’d landed midmorning and established a base of operations in a local hotel, getting connectivity with the Taskforce via a VPN. We got a current grid to the cell phone and had immediately established a surveillance box to start tracking Lucas.

My phone vibrated with another call. “He’s moving. Headed north to the Sheikh Zayed Road.”

“Did he ever get out?”

“Not that we saw. He could have earlier.”

“Okay. Remember, loose follow. Lose him instead of compromise.”

I was a little bit hamstrung because Lucas knew what Jennifer and I looked like-we were both targets he had tried very hard to kill in the past-which really left me with a three-man surveillance element. Even that was sketchy, because Knuckles had been with me when we captured Lucas the first time. Lucas would have seen him only briefly, if at all, because bullets and fists had been flying. I was willing to risk using him mainly because even a three-man surveillance effort was not nearly enough manpower to conduct a proper follow. Two men would be a bigger risk, and if it came down to it, we could afford to lose him instead of getting compromised because we had his phone to fall back on. The problem was the phone would show us a location on a map, but not what Lucas was doing. We needed eyes on for that.