The Lost Clipper by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

United States

Jane Hatfield, escorting Princess Grace and her little daughter, was glad to step in the fresh October breeze outside of the main entrance. After two days of occupation by the people of the Pan Am flight, the hotel now reeked of tobacco smoke everywhere, even though the regulations of the establishment prohibited smoking inside, except when in your room. Jane however encountered more cigarette smoke outside, finding herself downwind from a group formed by Edward Murrow, Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe, to the left of the main entrance. Another group, formed by a male passenger and one of the stewardesses, stood to the right of the main entrance, smoking near one of the exterior ashtrays placed a few paces from the swinging glass doors. The man was apparently attempting, with some success it seemed, to date the young and pretty redhead. Smiling at that, Jane looked around sharply to check the security situation outside and was mildly satisfied. Two armed DHS agents in assault vests and Kevlar helmets stood close by, one on each side of the main entrance, while two pairs of similarly equipped agents were visible at each of the front extremities corners of the hotel. Jane knew that there was also another pair of armored agents near the back entrance, while she had two plainclothes agents inside, in the lobby. The Washington D.C. police presence was now however down to a single patrol car watching the entrance to the old medical center’s grounds from Georgia Avenue and to another patrol car on the corner of 16th Street. It was a bit meager to her taste but she had to live with that.

Princess Grace, wearing a nice but outmoded ensemble, came out behind Jane, holding the hand of little Princess Caroline, with a bel boy following her and pushing a cart full of suitcases and bags. The ambassador from Monaco had promised to be here 53

at about two o’clock to pick up the two princesses and bring them to JFK Airport, where they would take a flight to France and Monaco. Prince Albert of Monaco had already announced on television from his palace that a great celebration would greet Princess Grace and her daughter and masses of reporters and photographers, along with many European royals and aristocrats, were already descending on Monaco and its surrounding countryside, fighting for the hotel accommodations available.

At about three past two, Jane got a short radio call from the police car at the entrance on Georgia Avenue, telling her that they had just let pass a black limousine with diplomatic plates flying the Monaco flag and escorted by a black SUV. The report did not say however if the policemen had checked the identity of the newcomers.

Frustrated by that, Jane called back the patrol car in question but, by the time the Washington policeman, who seemed to be a rather lazy type, started answering her, the SUV and limousine were in sight of the hotel.

‘’Car 084, did you check the identity of the occupants of these two vehicles, over?’’

‘’Uh, no. The vehicles were expected and wore diplomatic plates, over.’

Swearing to herself, Jane concentrated her attention on the approaching vehicles as she spoke again in her hand-held radio.

‘’Car 084, forget that: they are at the hotel now, out.’

She was about to tell her two nearby agents to be sharp and ready when Grace Kelly approached her with little Caroline, stopping just besides her.

‘’Are you coming with us to the airport, Miss Hatfield?’

‘’Uh, no, Your Serene Highness. Once you are with Ambassador Noghes, he takes charge of your security on the way to the airport. You should step back with your daughter now, until I have verified that this is Ambassador Noghes arriving.’’

‘’But, who else could it be? I can recognize the flag of Monaco on the limousine.’

Before Jane could answer, the black SUV leading the limousine rolled past her, stopping a few paces after the entrance and letting space for the limousine to stop in front of Jane and of the two princesses. Instead of the right-side front passenger of the limousine coming out to open the rear door for Princess Grace, the right side electric windows of both vehicles started coming down simultaneously. An alarm lit up in Jane’s brain and she went for her pistol while stepping in front of Princess Grace to protect her.

‘’WATCH OU…’’

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Four shooters then opened fire from inside the two vehicles, while two armed men came out from the rear left side doors of the limousine. One of the shooters shot single, aimed rounds at Jane, obviously trying not to hit accidentally Princess Grace, but the other shooters were less discriminate, firing savage bursts of automatic fire from their assault rifles at the two armed agents standing besides the entrance. Both men came down without being able to fire a single shot back, with Edward Murrow and Jack Lemmon also hit and falling down in cries of pain. Marilyn Monroe, along with the stewardess and her date prospect, were luckier and were barely missed by the hail of bul ets, flattening themselves to the ground to avoid more bul ets. Jane was hit first near her right clavicle, then in her right upper leg, making her fall down on the concrete while dropping her pistol. One of the two men that had come out of the limousine ran to Princess Grace and brutally grabbed her by one arm before dragging her towards the nearby limousine.

The second man then stopped for a short moment, taking the time to fire a long burst through the glass doors of the entrance and downing the two DHS agents that were about to rush outside. Jane, through the pain and red haze and while trying stil to cover the crying little Princess Caroline, could hear more weapons firing, heavy caliber ones firing deliberate shots from a distance. The second gunman, coming to grab little Princess Caroline, stepped in front of Jane and pointed his assault rifle at her with a mean grin on his face.

‘’MUERETE, HIJA DE PUTA1!’

Jane could do nothing but stare with blurred eyes at the man and his gun, expecting to die very soon. A pistol shot from behind and to the right of her then rang. The gunman, a bleeding hole now in his forehead, slowly collapsed without firing at Jane. More pistol shots rang in quick succession, aimed at the shooters inside the SUV and the limousine.

The unknown shooter proved then to be an expert shot indeed, kil ing or wounding in a mere five seconds the three gunmen pointing rifles from inside the vehicles. With the place becoming hot and with Princess Grace now inside the limousine with her abductor, the attackers decided that it was time to go and accelerated away. Just then, as Jane was about to pass out, she saw in a red blur Marilyn Monroe, fear on her face, bend down quickly besides her to pick up little Princess Caroline and then run inside the hotel.

Then, everything became dark.

1 Muerete, hija de puta!: in Spanish ‘Die, daughter of a whore!’

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22:40 (New York Time)

New Walter Reed Defense Medical Center (old Bethesda Navy Hospital) Washington, D.C.

Jane woke up slowly, her throat dry and her eyes stil unfocused, to find herself lying on a bed and with intravenous tubes plugged into her. She also found it difficult to concentrate and think at first and decided that she must have been given some painkil ers. The white shape of what must have been a nurse appeared from the left of her bed and looked at her for a second before leaving the small room Jane was in. A look to her right revealed a window that gave a view of a large building complex. Her room was obviously at some height, maybe third or fourth floor level. So, she had survived and was now in a hospital, thought Jane to herself. She tried to raise her left arm to look at her watch but a wave of pain from the area of her right shoulder stopped her at once. Looking around her small room, she belatedly saw the wall clock hooked facing her bed and swore when she realized that she had been out for more than eight hours. Eight hours that the abductors of Grace Kelly were able to use to get away!

More movement from her left then made her turn her head in that direction, in time to see her supervisor at DHS, John Simpson, and FBI agent Scott Benson enter her room. By now her vision had regained its focus and she could see that both men wore grim expressions. John Simpson nodded his head and smiled to her, but there was little joy on his face.

‘’I am glad to see that you got out alive from this shootout, Jane. How do you feel?’’

‘’Awful, to be truthful. I suppose that I underwent surgery.’

‘’Correct! One rifle bul et went under your clavicle and pierced the top of your right lung before exiting through your right shoulder blade. Another bul et went through your right leg but luckily missed the femoral artery and the bone before exiting. The doctors however say that you won’t be able to return to full service for at least five weeks.’

‘’Five weeks! But, I can’t lay helpless this long: Princess Grace was kidnapped on my watch.’

‘’And it is not your fault, Jane.’’ Replied firmly Simpson, not wanting her to cultivate a guilt feeling. ‘’You did things by the numbers with the resources given you but 56

the bastards who did this came in with an incredible amount of firepower and with utter savagery. Apart of the shooters that were in the limousine and in the SUV, snipers with high-power rifles fired from cars parked along Aspen Street and took out our agents as they ran past the corners of the Mologne House Hotel. Then, as their four vehicles were fleeing, they shot indiscriminately around them, intentionally hitting civilian drivers to create obstacles behind them for pursuing police cars. Apart of nine of our agents kil ed and four more, including you, wounded around the hotel, a total of six civilians were kil ed and another nineteen others wounded by these maniacs as they fled.

Unfortunately, their tactic worked and we have lost trace of them.’

Jane reflected bitterly on this bloody account: her whole security team was down, most of them dead, agents she knew well and had worked often with in the past. The 25

civilian victims were also a bitter pil to swallow.

‘’Do we know something about these bastards, sir? One of them was kil ed in front of me as he was going to finish me off and then take Princess Caroline.’’

‘’We did get something from examining his body, actually.’ Said Scott Benson, jumping in. ‘’He wore a number of tattoos that are known to be worn by members of the Los Zetas Mexican drug cartel.’

‘’The Los Zetas? He did swear at me in Spanish just before being kil ed.’

Simpson and Benson exchanged a quick look before Simpson continued.

‘’The methods used certainly correspond to those typical of the Los Zetas.

These bastards are about the most savage, brutal and sadistic criminals known and their cartel was formed by ex-Mexican Army special forces soldiers that went rogue. They have proved too often already that kil ing innocent civilians by the dozens means nothing to them. Even by the bloody standards of the Mexican drug cartels, the Los Zetas stand out. They control half of Northern Mexico via a reign of terror and corruption and nobody there is safe from their violence. Unfortunately, it seems that they have now decided to extend their violence to the United States. President Obama is justly enraged by this attack and so is the American public. The President has ordered that all agencies be on the lookout for them and Princess Grace. Since they will probably try to return to the safety of Mexico with their kidnap victim, orders have been given for all airports, heliports and marinas and ports to be closely watched and for all ships and aircraft to be searched before being allowed to depart.’

‘’Then, at the risk of offending some State Department lawyers, may I suggest that we extend that watch to planes and ships bearing Mexican colors, even those who 57

would normally have diplomatic immunity? The Los Zetas are known to have bought off many Mexican officials, including state governors and army and police senior officers.

Having a Mexican diplomat in their pay would not surprise me one bit.’

That attracted a nod from Simpson.

‘’Agent Benson, who is now in overall charge of this case, had the same idea.

While discreet, a surveil ance of all Mexican diplomatic personnel and their transportation means has been initiated, with the express approval of the President.’

Jane felt better on hearing this and relaxed a bit.

‘’I am glad to hear that, sir. May I ask who saved me and shot that gunman, if my agents were all down, sir? I did not see who shot back at the bastards.’

‘’You may thank one of the Pan Am passengers for that, Jane. His name is Antony Mancini and he was standing just outside the main doors with one of the stewardesses when the shooting started. He was able to grab the pistol of one of our agent after our man was kil ed in the first bursts of fire, then shot back at the kidnappers.’

‘’A passenger? But, he shot like a real pro, sir.’

‘’That’s because he is a pro, Jane, or at least was.’’ Replied Simpson, smiling.

‘’Mister Mancini is in fact a veteran of World War Two and fought with the Marines in the Pacific, where he was decorated for bravery. So, you owe your life to a war hero, Jane.’’

‘’Hell, I wil have to thank him when I have a chance to.’

Simpson’s expression then changed, becoming grim again.

‘’I am afraid that not all of the Pan Am people got out so well, Jane. Edward Murrow, the celebrated journalist, was kil ed outright in the shootout. Jack Lemmon was on his part wounded in a leg but wil recuperate from it.’

‘’And Marilyn Monroe? She was also outside of the main entrance at the time of the attack.’

‘’She is safe. She also showed she had guts then: she picked up little Princess Caroline under fire and ran with her inside the hotel, thus potentially saving her from being abducted along with her mother.’

A musical tone then made Scott Benson search one of his pockets, taking out a cell phone and putting it to one ear.

‘’Scott Benson!... How were they kil ed?... I see! Thanks!’

Pocketing his telephone, Benson looked somberly at Jane and at Simpson.

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‘’The Washington D.C. Police just found the bodies of Ambassador Noghes, his driver and his bodyguard: they were garroted to death. A preliminary examination indicates that they were most probably kil ed before the kidnapping of Princess Grace.’

‘’Damn!’ Swore Simpson. ‘’That wil cause a diplomatic tempest of the first order, apart from sending the medias into hyperboles.’’

‘’Those Zetas bastards are known to respect nothing, sir.’ Reminded Scott Benson. ‘’If we ever get to corner them, I am afraid that a standard police SWAT team wil not be up to the job.’

The DHS supervisor thought that over for a moment, then nodded his head.

‘’You may be right, Agent Benson. I will call right away to get some, uh, higher-level tactical help.’’

Before leaving the hospital room, Simpson patted gently Jane’s left hand.

‘’Don’t worry about this case anymore and concentrate on recovering, Jane. We wil take care of the rest.’

‘’Me, not worry? How could I, with all the dead and wounded around me?’

Simpson did not reply to that and left the room without another word, leaving Jane with Scott Benson. The latter gave her an apologetic smile.

‘’Well, I am afraid that I will have to leave you as well, Jane: I have a case to investigate.’

‘’I understand, Scott. I have only one request for you.’

‘’Oh, which one?’

‘’Show no mercy to the bastards who did this, Scott. Too many good people died because of them.’

‘’I promise!’’ Simply said Benson before leaving. Jane, now alone with her thoughts, looked through the window of her room at the lights of nocturnal Washington, feeling totally useless.

01:17 (New York Time)

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Tree line bordering a private estate on the Chesapeake Bay Area of Annapolis, Maryland

The two FBI agents, wearing dark informal clothes and hiding behind a big bush along the tree line parallel to the perimeter fence of the mansion, tensed up on seeing a 59

small van approach along the coastal road. One of the agents raised his night vision scope to one eye, while his companion pointed a digital camera equipped with a light intensification lens. Their interest intensified when the van slowed down and turned into the driveway leading to the mansion. One of the two armed men standing inside the steel gate went out via a small side door and spoke briefly with the driver of the van before unlocking and opening the large gate. As soon as the van drove inside the property, the guard closed again the gate and returned to his original post, his submachine gun at the ready. The FBI surveil ance team watched as the van drove to the front entrance of the mansion and stopped. One man came out from the front passenger seat of the van and went to the rear doors as three armed men came out of the house.

‘’Damn! This place is like an armed fortress.’ Swore quietly one of the FBI agents. ‘’I have counted up to now at least nine armed men standing outside watch.

You think that a simple consul rates this much protection, Ed?’

‘’A normal consul, no.’ Replied the agent holding the camera as he took a number of pictures of the van and the men around it. ‘’However, this Guerrero character seems to have way too much money for a simple diplomatic consul. Wait! They are taking something or someone from the van.’

‘’Make it a someone.’ Said his companion, watching through his scope. He then felt excitement rise in him. ‘’It’s a woman! A blond woman! She is wearing a large blindfold and I can’t positively identify her, but I could swear that this is Princess Grace.

Make sure to take good pictures of her, Ed. I’m calling this in.’

As the senior agent was taking out his cell phone to call the command center of the special task force formed to find Princess Grace, he eyed the big yacht moored at the private quay of the mansion. If those bastards managed to leave with their prisoner in that boat, stopping them without putting Princess Grace at enormous risk would be very difficult indeed. On the other hand, assaulting this wel -guarded mansion would be no easy feat either, especially considering that it was the official residence of a foreign diplomat.

A big, mean-looking man with brown skin standing on the porch of the mansion swore when his men took two plastic body bags out of the van after Grace Kelly was brought inside.

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‘’Madre de Dios! We have lost two more men?’ He asked to one of the men transporting the body bags. The latter, straining to carry the body, gave him a grim look.

‘’Pedro and Juan died from their wounds while at the Washington safe house, Jefe. That bastard who shot us up at the Mologne House Hotel knew how to shoot.’’

A flash of anger lit the big man’s eyes for a moment before he calmed down and spoke.

‘’If I learn his name, I will make certain that he pays one day, slowly and painfully.

Alright, go put the bodies aboard the yacht: we will leave in less than a hour. The quicker we leave American territory and get to the open sea, the better.’

‘’Yes, Jefe!’

Letting the four men pass first with the two body bags, the burly man then reentered the mansion and went to a very nervous-looking fat man standing in the main lounge. The latter watched the body bags go by before looking angrily at the leader of the Los Zetas team.

‘’Do you realize the kind of risks you are making me go through by coming here like this?’’

The criminal eyed the diplomat with cold, unmitigated contempt.

‘’We are the ones who took the risks while you cashed in our money, Señor Guerrero. Now, shut up and let us handle this!’’

What he didn’t say was that he would have gladly kil ed this coward if not for the fact that his status as a diplomat made him a precious asset to the organization. Looking next at their prisoner, he walked to her and forced her chin up with one hand. Fear was evident on her beautiful face and she was shaking but she clenched her teeth in order not to whimper. That impressed the gang leader, who liked women of character.

‘’Listen, and listen well, Miss Kelly. As long as you don’t make trouble and stay quiet, you wil be well treated. If you cause trouble or scream, you wil be beaten. The more trouble, the more pain for you. Understand?’’

‘’Ye…yes. What do you want from me?’

‘’From you, just your cooperation. From your son, Prince Albert of Monaco, a reasonable sum of 200 mil ion dol ars wil convince us to let you go. Pray that he is sensible and pays up quickly.’

‘’Two hundred mil ion dollars? But, that would bankrupt the Principality. How do you expect him to be able to pay such a sum?’’

The gang leader laughed out loud before answering her with a mean smile.

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‘’He wil pay, and for two reasons: first, he made a lot of money since 1959 and is now easily a bil ionaire; second, if he refuses to pay, then we will start sending you back to Monaco…one piece at a time, until he becomes reasonable.’’

Grace paled visibly at that threat but didn’t reply. Satisfied, the gang leader pointed Grace to two of his men.

‘’Bring her on the yacht and lock her up in a cabin. Don’t be rough with her for the moment, unless she acts stupid.’’

‘’Yes, Jefe!’ Said one of the men before grabbing Grace Kelly by one arm.

‘’Come with us, gringa2: you are going on a cruise.’

The men laughed at that as she was led out of the lounge.

01:39 (New York Time)

White House, Washington D.C.

The President had been in bed for barely an hour when he was gently shaken awake by a Secret Service agent.

‘’Mister President… Mister President, wake up!’

‘’Uh, what is happening?’’

‘’Princess Grace of Monaco has been located, Mister President. However, she is now on a yacht moored to the private quay of the Mexican Consul’s residence on the shore of Chesapeake Bay. The FBI needs your authorization to act on diplomatic territory.’

‘’The Mexican Consul is involved? The bastard! Okay, I’m getting up. Give me a minute or two.’’

‘’Yes, Mister President.’

With the agent leaving his bedroom, President Obama slipped quietly out of bed in order not to wake up his wife, then put on a robe and slippers. He was still chasing away his fatigue when he stepped out of his bedroom and faced the head of his protective detail.

‘’Okay, who called?’’

‘’Director Muel er, Mister President. He is at the command post of the special task force handling the abduction of Princess Grace.’’

2 Gringa : Mexican slang for white woman.

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‘’Alright, I will go to the Oval Office. Transfer his call there and get hold of Vice-President Clinton, Secretary of State Burns and Secretary of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano. I want to be able to make a conference call with all of them in fifteen minutes.’

‘’Understood, Mister President.’

Barak Obama walked quickly to the Oval Office, sitting down behind his desk less than three minutes later and picking up his telephone.

‘’Director Muel er, this is the President. What is the situation?’’

‘’Mister President, one of our surveil ance team watching the residence of the Mexican Consul, situated on the shoreline of Chesapeake Bay near Annapolis, saw about twenty minutes ago a van bring Princess Grace to that mansion. Ten minutes later, my men reported that she was being put aboard a big yacht moored at the private quay of the residence. Both the yacht and the residence are heavily guarded by armed men.’

‘’Are we sure that it was Princess Grace that your men saw, Director Muel er?’’

‘’Completely sure, no, Mister President. However, armed men took out of the van a blond woman with her hands tied and with a large blindfold over her eyes. These men also took out of the van and put on the yacht two body bags. If this isn’t the gang that kidnapped Princess Grace, then I would call this sighting an incredible coincidence.’

‘’And the Mexican Consul, is he in that house as wel ?’’

‘’Yes, Mister President. He was seen briefly standing outside the house with one of the armed men, discussing with him. I also have to tell you that all signs are that the kidnappers are probably going to leave soon on that yacht, Mister President. If we want to act, we wil need to do it quickly and with sufficient force to overcome these criminals before they can hurt Princess Grace.’

‘’That yacht, does it belong to the Mexican Consul?’’

‘’Yes, Mister President. Unfortunately, that makes it technically Mexican territory.’

Obama felt a brief wave of anger go over him: he was in no mood for technicalities and diplomatic niceties after the bloodbath those kidnappers had caused in Washington.

‘’We wil deal with such technicalities afterwards, Director Muel er. What has priority is the rescue of Princess Grace. Can your men take out those kidnappers with a good chance of saving Princess Grace unhurt?’’

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There was a noticeable pause at the other end of the line before Muel er answered.

‘’Mister President, while I am proud of my agents and would wish to be able to answer yes to your question, I must honestly say no. Those kidnappers are too numerous, too well armed and too professional for my tactical response team to be able to guarantee that any rescue attempt would not end up badly.’

‘’Director Muel er, I must commend you for your honesty: I get bul shit too often as it is. So, what do you propose?’’

‘’Mister President, only the very best could pull successfully such a rescue operation. I know that you have already ordered the Pentagon to put a Navy SEAL team on high alert. In my opinion, that SEAL team should handle the rescue, and that as quickly as possible.’’

Obama needed only a short moment to make up his mind.

‘’I approve your suggestion. I will call the Pentagon right away and tell them to put our SEAL team under your operational control. Make sure however that these commandos are left free to plan their operation and that none of your agents tries to double guess them. Tell them what you want done but then let them do their job. And while we are on this, know that I will tell them to give no quarters to the kidnappers. The only thing I care is to see Princess Grace freed alive and well.’

‘’What about the Mexican Consul, Mister President?’’

‘’Well, if that bastard tries to interfere during the rescue operation, then I can’t guarantee that he won’t catch a lost bul et fired by one of the kidnappers, if you see what I mean. And if the Mexican Ambassador has the gall to protest our actions afterwards, I wil then ask him to explain how his consul got mixed up with these Los Zetas. Keep me posted on any new developments from now on: I wil stay up and will be in the Oval Office until this operation is concluded, one way or the other.’

‘’Understood, Mister President. My men will continue the surveil ance of the yacht and of the residence while awaiting the SEAL team.’’

Obama then cut the line before calling a number at the Pentagon.

‘’Commander Nicholson, this is the President speaking. As of now, your alert SEAL team is put under operational control of Director Muel er, of the FBI. The task of your men wil be to effect a hostage rescue mission and free unhurt Princess Grace of Monaco, who is presently held on a yacht moored near Annapolis. Your commandos are free to use all the force necessary to secure her freedom. Anyone, and I say 64

anyone, who gets in the way wil be shot, period. Director Muel er wil brief your men on the details of the present situation. Do you have any questions, Commander?’’

‘’No, Mister President! Your orders were very clear.’

‘’Then, I can only wish good luck to your men, Commander.’

‘’Thank you, Mister President.’

Putting down his telephone receiver, Obama sat back in his chair, hoping fervently that all would go well.

01:55 (New York Time)

Yacht YUCATAN, Chesapeake Bay

Grace Kelly felt a pang of despair when she heard the powerful engines of the big yacht come to life with a roar. She knew too wel that her chances for being rescued would diminish drastical y once out of the United States. In 1959, the Mexican government had been a stout ally of the United States, but what she had learned in her few days in this century told her that the relation was now both complicated and tense, with Mexico being nearly a failed state if she could believe some media sources. The power and brutality of the various drug cartels from Mexico and Colombia had shocked her as well as most of the other passengers from Pan Am 164. Even the powerful Italian mafia families in the United States of 1959 would never have dared to commit brazen atrocities of the sort the Mexican drug cartels seemed to commit routinely, like the nearly gratuitous mass kil ing of 53 people reported from Mexico two days ago. While no innocent sheep, the Italian mafia had at least some sense of restraint and had been careful about its public image, in order not to attract unwanted publicity to its affairs and thus renewed police pressure. In contrast, the Mexican drug cartels of 2015 seemed to actually want to shock, in order to reinforce their reign of terror. Such behavior in 1959

would have probably gotten those cartels to feel the full force of the American military, with the American public pushing the President for tough action. However, and unfortunately, thought Grace Kelly, the World seemed now to be a more violent and savage place than in 1959. Edward Murrow had remarked to her just yesterday that the old Cold War of the 1950s, with its nuclear arms race and its struggle for power between the United States and the Soviet Union, had at least the merit of having stabilized many other factors of violence around the World through the game of alliances. Now, with the Soviet Union dissolved since the 1990s and with a succession of economic crisis 65

shaking the World, every little petty dictator or head of criminal organizations seemed to feel free to act as they wished. One example of such behavior was the acts of high seas piracy off the Horn of Africa, an activity that would have been crushed swiftly by the US

Navy in 1959 as soon as it would have started to threaten the all important oil traffic passing via the Suez Canal. Instead, a few ragged bands of primitive pirates were boarding merchant ships nearly at wil in order to ransom them and their crews, while the international response was uncoordinated and sporadic at best. Grace was thus most pessimistic as she felt the yacht starting to move from the quay it had been attached to.

Unknown to her and to her Los Zetas captors, a PREDATOR drone of the United States Air Force was turning overhead at medium altitude, silent and invisible in the night sky. Its surveil ance cameras and infra-red sensors had been transmitting for over twenty minutes pictures of both the yacht and the Consul’s mansion, pictures relayed instantly to the command post of the FBI task force in charge of the kidnapping case and to the base of the Navy SEAL team preparing for action. The very savagery and brazenness of their operation was now playing against the Los Zetas commandos, having attracted the universal revulsion and anger of the American public. That had pushed its elected officials into taking unprecedented measures in response to what was now qualified as a terrorist act rather than simply a criminal one. Unfortunately for Grace, something as delicate as a hostage rescue mission took some time to prepare if one didn’t want it to end up in a bloody disaster.

Two hours after the yacht had left the quay of the mansion, Grace heard her captors exchange cheers and congratulations around the yacht. Knowing some Spanish, she understood that their enthusiasm was caused by the fact that the yacht was now in international waters, something that would reduce greatly the chances for the yacht to be chal enged by an American ship. The leader of the gang then sent most of his men to their bunks to sleep, judging probably that the worst was over. Herself exhausted by nervous tension and fear, Grace decided that she might as wel also go to sleep and took off her shoes before lying fully clothed on the bunk of her cabin. There was no way she was going to undress and thus risk tempt any of those animals if one entered her cabin unannounced. Sleep however took some time to come to her.

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Fifteen minutes later, two MH-60H combat rescue helicopters of the US Navy started approaching the yacht from downwind, guided by the PREDATOR drone stil flying over the boat. The images from the drone, apart from being sent to the FBI task force command post, were also being monitored carefully by the sixteen men traveling in the two helicopters. Wearing neoprene wetsuits and combat web gear and with their faces blackened, the sixteen men carried an assortment of automatic weapons, grenades and explosives. Each of them also carried night vision goggles attached to their helmets. The leader of the SEAL team, sitting in the lead helicopter, grinned with satisfaction on seeing most of the Los Zetas gunmen go below the main deck, leaving only one man at the rudder of the yacht and two gunmen on the open rear deck. He waited another ten minutes however before telling the pilot of his helicopter, who had kept some distance with the yacht, to start his final approach. He next turned his head towards the two snipers sitting by the open starboard side door of the helicopter.

‘’We are about to go on autorotation descent for the final approach. When you wil have a clear view of the two gunmen on the rear deck, kil them, then get the man at the rudder. We need those three men dead before our pilot can restart its engines and drop us off, so don’t take your sweet time, guys.’

‘’Got it, Lieutenant.’ Replied the senior sniper, cradling a silencer and night scope-equipped semi-automatic precision rifle.

Having approached as much as he dared from the yacht without risking his engines being heard from upwind, the lead helicopter pilot carefully calculated his glide path, then cut his engines. With its main and tail rotors stil turning from their momentum, the helicopter started losing altitude, gliding nearly silently in the dark night sky. The two snipers in the cabin had to wait a tense minute before their glide path put them behind and above the yacht, at an angle at which they could see their targets.

‘’There are our targets, Jack.’’ Said the senior sniper while pointing his rifle.

‘’Start aiming now and shoot two seconds after my mark… three, two, one, mark!’

The senior sniper then started squeezing gently his trigger. His rifle barked just a fraction of a second before the weapon of his comrade. The shape of the gunman he was targeting collapsed to the deck, followed shortly by the second gunman. Without wasting any time, the senior sniper then aimed at the yacht’s pilot, shooting him in the back three seconds later. The man collapsed on top of the rudder wheel and instrument 67

dash, his body holding the wheel in its present position and thus holding the yacht on a nearly steady course.

‘’ALL TARGETS DOWN!’

His shout made the team leader pat firmly the shoulder of the pilot.

‘’RESTART YOUR ENGINES! LAND US ON THE YACHT!’

‘’COPY THAT!’’ Replied the pilot. While he started his engines, his copilot sent a brief radio message to the second helicopter, warning it that they were going in. To the relief of all aboard the helicopter, the engines restarted without a hitch or hesitation, allowing the pilot to control again his flight path. Approaching the yacht from behind and lowering to an altitude of a mere fifteen feet above the waves, the pilot slowed down as wel , matching his speed with the yacht once above the rear deck of the boat. He was now tense and fully concentrated, as his main rotor blades were cutting the air a mere few feet above the radar antenna of the yacht. One mistake or moment of inattention and his craft would collide with the yacht and then most probably crash in the sea.

‘’IN POSITION! GO! GO! GO!’

The SEAL commandos were already in position and ready to slide down from the skids, using short ropes barely touching the deck of the yacht. As one, four commandos slid down and landed on the yacht in a single jump, then immediately took hold of their silenced submachine guns and walked forward, freeing the rear deck for the other four commandos stil in the helicopter. Two of the soldiers were already going down the ladder leading to the cabins when the second group of four SEALs landed on the deck.

Its job now mostly accomplished, the pilot of the helicopter put on more power and rose while sliding sideways, leaving room for the second helicopter to drop its own load of eight soldiers.

Grace Kelly woke up with a startle when someone screamed loudly in Spanish outside her door. A strange, burping noise followed, with the sound of running feet next.

Then mayhem ensued, with automatic fire and loud explosions resonating in the restricted space of the lower deck. The fight was however surprisingly short, a few seconds at most, before silence fell again. Stil lying in her bed and too terrified to move or scream, Grace suddenly felt her heart jump in her chest when someone kicked in the door of her cabin. An all-black silhouette stood in the hal way, a weapon pointed at her.

Before Grace could do anything, the man in the doorway shouted loudly in English.

‘’I HAVE THE HOSTAGE!”

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That attracted another man in black, form-fitting suit, who entered the cabin and lowered his own weapon, a short and nasty-looking thing, before presenting his left hand to Grace.

‘’Princess Grace, we are here to rescue you. Your captors are now all dead and we wil bring you back to Washington and your daughter.’

‘’Thank you! Thank you all!’ Could only say Grace, stil in shock.

04:46 (New York Time)

Grounds of the Mologne House Hotel

Washington, D.C.

Scott Benson was on hand with six armed FBI agents to greet the MH-60H

helicopter when it landed on the grass near the hotel. He helped Grace Kelly, stil shaken by her adventure, to jump out of the helicopter, then shook hands with the commandos inside the cabin.

‘’A hel of a job, guys. We owe you a big one.’

‘’It was a pleasure, mister. Don’t hesitate to call the Pentagon again if you need us, especially if it is to deal with those drug cartel jackals.’

‘’I sure will. Thanks again!’’

Scott then stepped away with Grace Kelly, both bent over, to allow the helicopter to depart. Once the machine was gone and the whirlwind from its rotors had died down, the FBI agent looked at Grace Kelly, who seemed to have regained some composure now that she was back near the hotel.

‘’Your daughter Caroline is inside the hotel, waiting for you, Your Serene Highness. I wil lead you to her.’

‘’Thank you.’’

Grace noticed the numerous armed agents surrounding the hotel as she walked to the front entrance of the hotel with Benson.

‘’I could not see what real y happened when I was being kidnapped. What happened to Miss Hatfield and her agents?’’

Scott’s face became somber as he answered her while stil walking.

‘’Senior Agent Hatfield was seriously wounded and is in hospital, while all her agents were either kil ed or gravely wounded. Edward Murrow was kil ed as wel , while Jack Lemmon was wounded in one leg. Innocent passersby were also kil ed and 69

wounded by those bastards as they shot wildly around them during their escape. If not for two other passengers, your daughter would have probably been kidnapped as well, or shot in the crossfire.’

‘’Oh? Who?’

‘’A man called Antonio Mancini, a war veteran who served with the Marines in the Pacific, was able to grab the pistol of a fallen DHS agent and returned fire, saving Jane Hatfield from being kil ed and also stopping one of the kidnappers from grabbing your daughter. Miss Monroe then grabbed Caroline and ran inside the hotel with her.’

‘’Then, I definitely want to thank both of them profusely. I wil also mention their actions to Ambassador Noghes, so that Prince Albert can be informed.’

‘’Uh, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Your Serene Highness, but Ambassador Noghes was kil ed by your kidnappers, along with his chauffeur and bodyguard.’

‘’Oh, my God! These Mexicans were truly blood-thirsty savages. Talking of Mexicans, my captors brought me to the house of the Mexican Consul, where I boarded a yacht. I had a blindfold on but they didn’t seem to realize that I could understand Spanish and spoke around me. You may want to know that the Mexican Consul was a full accomplice to these men and was taking payments from them. I am telling you so that he could not pretend to have been a simple victim in all this.’

A satisfied grin came to Scott’s mouth on hearing that.

‘’I wil certainly take later your statement on that subject, Your Serene Highness.

That consul is going to pay for his role in this, I assure you.’

‘’But, he must have diplomatic immunity because of his position, no?’’

‘’He does, but his government can stil revoke his diplomatic cover. The bloodbath caused by these savages has enraged the whole nation and has also united the positions of President Obama and of the Republican opposition on this subject. The Mexican government may find itself having to explain a few things to us. If they don’t, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mexico is then hit by severe economic counter-measures.’’

‘’To be frank, Mister Benson, I would have a lot of difficulty to feel any sympathy towards those people right now.’

They were by now entering the lobby of the hotel and walked to one of the elevators, with Scott calling a cabin. A minute later they were on the first floor and heading towards the suite loaned to Grace Kelly. Two armed agents stood in front of the 70

door, with two more agents near the elevators and stairway cage. Scott knocked lightly on the door of the suite, attracting a female response.

‘’Who is it?’’

‘’Agent Benson, Miss Monroe. Please open up.’

The door opened a few seconds later, with a Marilyn Monroe in a bathrobe and pajamas beaming with joy at the sight of Grace Kelly. She then shared an emotional embrace with the princess.

‘’Grace, you’re safe, thank God! We were so scared for you.’

‘’Agent Benson told me what you did to save Caroline. I cannot thank you enough for that, Marilyn.’’

Marilyn Monroe made a small, embarrassed smile at those words.

‘’No need to, Grace: many would have done the same. You must be anxious to see your daughter. Come: she’s sleeping in the secondary bedroom.’

Grace didn’t have to be told twice and followed Marilyn inside, going to the second bedroom of the suite and opening cautiously the door. Seeing her little daughter sleeping in the large bed brought tears to Grace’s eyes. Seeing that, Marilyn patted her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

‘’Go sleep besides her, Grace. I wil leave you now with Caroline.

‘’Thank you, my friend.’’

Closing the door of the bedroom behind Grace, Marilyn then returned to the suite’s entrance and faced Scott Benson.

‘’Since Grace is back, I suppose that the bastards who did that massacre at the main entrance have been caught?’’

‘’In fact, they are all dead, Miss Monroe.’

‘’Better stil ! Well, I suppose that I can now return to my own room and leave Grace alone with her daughter.’

Marilyn was about to turn around to go get her day clothes and the few hygiene items she had brought from her room when Scott Benson touched gently her shoulder while smiling at her.

‘’Miss Monroe, if I may, I would like to say that what you did to save Princess Caroline was very brave. You are a woman to admire in many ways.’

Marilyn, touched by his words, smiled with appreciation.

‘’Thank you, Mister Benson. Maybe we could have supper together tonight.’

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‘’I would like that very much, Miss Monroe. I wil see you later, then.’’

With Marilyn then closing the door, Scott turned around and started walking towards the elevators but hesitated and stopped after a few steps, thoughtful. There were a few things that had bothered him since the bloody kidnapping, things concerning one of the Pan Am passengers. Taking a decision, he went up to the large second floor lounge that was used to search for information about the passengers and crew of the Clipper America and to interview them. At this early hour, with the Sun stil hours away from rising, he found only a lone agent there, watching the lounge to prevent the files there from being tampered with. Nodding to that agent, Scott then went to the file cabinet that contained the files made on each passenger and crewmember, searching for and pul ing out a specific file. Sitting at a nearby desk which supported a computer linked to the Internet, he started reviewing in detail that file, soon making a few Google searches on the computer. After maybe fifty minutes of work, he sat back in his chair and blew air lightly: if his reasoning was right, one passenger had a big secret indeed to hide. He was certainly going soon to have to confront that passenger about it.

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CHAPTER 8 – NEW LIVES

10:19 (New York Time)

Monday, October 12, 2015

Main entrance of the Mologne House Hotel

Washington, D.C.

Scott Benson, along with Grace Kelly, her daughter Caroline and many other passengers of the Pan Am 164, was on hand to say goodbye to Marilyn Monroe, who was waiting with her luggage under the covered porch of the hotel. On her part, the actress was both anxious and hopeful as a big white limousine was approaching the hotel, escorted by two police patrol cars. She had been contacted on Saturday by the famous mil ionaire and playboy Hugh Hefner, now aged 89, who had offered her a place to live at his Playboy Mansion in Los Angeles. Hefner had also promised to support the revival of her acting career. Having in fact been the first ever centerfold girl for Hefner’s then new ‘Playboy’ magazine, Marilyn already knew the mil ionaire and had readily accepted his offer. With nothing left of her estate and with little money on her, Marilyn had realized quickly that she would need some serious support if she wanted to restart her career as an actress. What today’s public expected from actresses was quite different from the 1950s, while Marilyn’s type of beauty was not considered the ideal anymore. She in fact had found most modern actresses to be either too skinny or overly muscular in comparison with the plump looks favored in her time. Marilyn was however resolved to gain again a place of prominence in Hollywood.

When the limousine stopped in front of the porch and the driver came out to open the rear door for her, Marilyn saw that Hugh Hefner, thin and frail, was already sitting in the back. The old playboy stared at her with gleaming eyes from the back seat, admiring her youth and beauty while smiling at her.

‘’Hello, Marilyn. It has been a very long time since we saw each other.’

‘’It has, Hugh.’’ Said softly Marilyn, shocked by his age. ‘’Could you just give me a minute to say goodbye to some friends here?’

‘’Anything you say, my dear.’

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The first one Marilyn turned to and hugged warmly was Grace Kelly, who was also going to leave the hotel this morning.

‘’I wish you the best in Monaco, Grace. I wil write you often, I promise.’’

‘’And I wish you a successful return to acting, Marilyn. Good luck to you in Los Angeles.’’

‘’Thanks!’’ Said Marilyn, moved, before crouching in front of little Caroline to kiss her on her forehead.

‘’Goodbye, my little Caroline. I wil miss you.’

‘’Me too, Marilyn.’’ Said the toddler in her tiny voice, her face sad.

Her heart heavy, Marilyn got back up and exchanged kisses on the cheeks with Antonio Mancini, who was due to leave with Grace Kelly and Caroline.

‘’Good luck with your new life in Monaco, Tony. You are a brave man and a true hero. I promise to write to you too.’

Antonio Mancini, trim and fit-looking in his elegant but outmoded suit, smiled down at the actress.

‘’Knowing you was a true honor, Miss Monroe. I wil be looking forward to go see your next movie.’’

Marilyn grinned happily at those words, then faced Scott Benson, also kissing him on both cheeks.

‘’Tell Jane Hatfield that I wish her a prompt recovery, Scott. As for you, be careful! You deserve a good woman in your life.’’

‘’Why? I already have such a woman in my arms right now.’

Marilyn’s smile widened and she gave him a quick kiss on the lips before stepping back and turning to get in the limousine. The big car rolled away a minute later, once all her luggage were aboard. Scott sighed with regret while watching the limousine go: Marilyn Monroe certainly had not lost the aura of sexiness that had made her so popular in the 1950s.

Not even ten minutes later, another limousine, this time escorted by no less than four vehicles full of heavily armed federal agents, rolled to a stop in front of the hotel.

This time, it was the turn of Grace Kelly to say goodbye to the ones staying in the hotel.

After exchanging accolades with Grace and little Caroline, Scott shook hands vigorously with Antonio Mancini. The Italian-American had received on Saturday a proposal by a representative of Prince Albert of Monaco to become the personal bodyguard of 74

Princess Grace. With his job as a wine buyer for a now long-closed wine and liquor store gone and with no relatives left alive, Mancini had jumped on the offer and was now going to accompany Grace Kelly and little Caroline to Monaco. Scott spoke in a low voice to him while looking him in the eyes.

‘’You have proved to be a brave man indeed, Mister Mancini. You also certainly lived by the old rule: no women, no kids.’

While nearly imperceptible, Scott saw the slight reaction of the hit man when he said the old mafia rule about not touching women or children and not kil ing someone in front of his family. He however added a few words quickly.

‘’Don’t worry, Mister Mancini. This wil stay strictly between you and me and you may leave for your new life in Monaco without worrying. Your prompt actions saved the life of Agent Hatfield and prevented the kidnapping of little Princess Caroline. Whatever you did in the past wil stay in the past. Have a good trip to Monaco.’

Sighing with relief, Antonio smiled to the FBI agent and also spoke in a near whisper.

‘’Thank you for your comprehension, Agent Benson. You have my word of honor that I wil from now on stay on the right side of the law. Protecting Princess Grace and her daughter will certainly be a job I will be proud to do.’

‘’And I am sure that you wil do an outstanding job worthy of a Marine.’’

Antonio puffed up his chest at those words.

‘’Once a Marine, always a Marine! Goodbye, Agent Benson. Give my wishes for a prompt recovery to Agent Hatfield.’’

‘’I certainly will, Tony. Again, have a good trip.’’

Mancini then went to the limousine with his suitcases, loading them in the trunk before going to sit in the back with Grace and Caroline of Monaco. As the limousine started to roll away, Scott wondered to himself if he should or not tell Janet Hatfield about Antonio Mancini. After thinking for a moment, he decided against it: he had given his word to Mancini and he was going to abide by it. With the limousine now out of sight, Scott went back inside the hotel. With Coco Channel having left for France on Sunday and with Jack Lemmon stil in hospital, all the V.I.P.s were now gone from the hotel and Scott would soon pul out his agents. There would stil however be a number of federal civil servants, led by Ramsay Weathers, who would stay to continue to help the remaining passengers and crewmembers of the Pan Am flight adapt to a new life in 2015. That job was in no way looking like an easy one right now. One unfortunate male passenger had committed suicide on Sunday after his children from a wife he had divorced in 1958 had 75

refused to help him. Those children, now in their sixties, had even refused to take his subsequent calls. What had caused such animosity was unknown to Scott, but the grief and pain of being turned away like that had been too much for the poor man, who had then hung himself in his room. Scott was hoping that no other similar tragedies would happen, but he appreciated fully how difficult rebuilding one’s life was in a world that was quite alien from what one had known.

14:30 (New York Time)

Thursday, October 15, 2015

United States Air Force recruiting center

Washington, D.C.

Things had been slow, to say the least, at the recruiting office today. In fact, the whole week had been rather quiet for Master Sergeant Jason Terlecki and his two other recruiting NCOs. While the Air Force had not been hit as badly as the Army by past federal budget cuts, it stil had to limit its enrollment goals. However, with the economy picking up in the last few months, few young and technically qualified people were looking for a military career. Most of the prospective recruits that Terlecki had interviewed in the last weeks had proved to be rather poorly educated, with many of them having criminal records and with a few having even tested positive for drug use on initial medical examination.

The opening of the entrance door of the office made Terlecki look up from his computer screen, where he had been reading his latest official emails. His eyes opened wide and he straightened in his chair at the sight of the four young and beautiful women who had just entered. Al four whore powder blue air stewardesses uniforms and were carrying each a pair of suitcases and a travel bag. Terlecki got up from his chair and walked around his desk to greet the newcomers, who were looking around with intense curiosity at the various recruiting posters on the walls.

‘’Good day, ladies! I am Master Sergeant Jason Terlecki, head recruiter for this office. What may I do for you?’’

The one that was apparently the oldest of the lot, a splendid brunette with grey eyes in her late twenties, answered him while delivering a kil er smile.

‘’Is the Air Force recruiting air stewardesses these days, Master Sergeant?’’

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Terlecki then saw the Pan Am insignia on their uniforms and understood who they were, making blood rush to his brain.

‘’Uh, I certainly can answer you quickly on that, miss. You are the stewardesses from that Pan Am flight that came by accident from the year 1959, right?’’

‘’Correct!’ Said the brunette, extending her right hand. ‘’Sandra Crystal, purser on the Clipper America. My friends are Roberta Holmes, Jennifer Woods and Mary O’Malley. We all speak at least a second language and have high school diplomas, plus have already a few years of experience as air stewardesses.’’

Terlecki beamed on hearing that: this was already better than the curriculum of much of the prospective recruits he had interviewed recently.

‘’Well, ladies, with such qualifications, I am sure that we can find something of interest for you. In fact, we can probably offer you many more job specialties than just air stewardesses, if you are interested.’

‘’You can?’’ Said Sandra Crystal, while the three other stewardesses showed joy on hearing Terlecki. The latter sat back behind his desk and showed the desks of his two NCOs to the women.

‘’If you may sit in front of my desk, Miss Crystal, my two colleagues wil be pleased to take care of two of your friends. Your last friend may sit beside you, so that she could listen to the information I wil give you. Let’s see first the list of specialties that are opened to recruitment right now.’

Calling up a specific program and file on his computer, Terlecki reviewed quickly the list now on his screen and nodded with satisfaction.

‘’The air stewardess trade is effectively stil opened for recruitment, miss.

However, I see many more trade specialties that are opened and that could interest you.

Do you have skil s in a particular domain, Miss Crystal?’’

‘’As I said, I am a trained air stewardess and I speak fluently French and Italian. I am also qualified in first aid. Uh, I was told that they now let women pilot aircraft in the Air Force these days. Is that true?’’

‘’It certainly is, miss. If you would have the right qualifications, you could even become a fighter pilot, miss.’

‘’A fighter pilot? Oh my god! Things have certainly changed since 1959.’

‘’They sure did, miss.’ Said Terlecki with a smile. ‘’I suppose that you would prefer a flying specialty, rather than a ground support one.’’

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‘’Definitely! What is open right now in terms of flying specialties, Master Sergeant?’’

‘’Quite a few things, miss. Even without having technical or engineering diplomas, you could apply right now for a good dozen flying specialties, including helicopter pilot, cargo master, cargo aircraft pilot, helicopter door gunner and, of course, air stewardess.’

Sandra Crystal, like Mary O’Malley, who was sitting beside her, opened her eyes wide in disbelief.

‘’My god! I was not hoping for such a wide choice being available to women.’

‘’Welcome to 2015, miss!’ Said Terlecki with a grin.

22:37 (New York Time)

Sunday, January 31, 2016