Carlos’ interview unleashed a media frenzy in Paris not unlike the tabloid-journalism in London during Wimbledon. The front page of French newspapers had a picture of three people taken on a yacht in Monte Carlo. Carlos had his right arm around the other man’s shoulders. The caption to the picture identified the other man as Agbu, international terrorist. Ambre was standing to the left of Carlos, smiling up at the two men.
Journalists explored the connection between tennis, drugs and international terrorism. The Basque movement was explored in depth and fifty years of terrorism were revisited, as was the possible connection to Al-Qaeda. Agbu was acknowledged to be the leader of the Basque radicals, if not the overall movement. Drugs, extortion and kidnapping were said to be the Basque’s primary sources of financing. Little mention was made of the benefits that Agbu’s New ETA had brought to the Basque.
There was waning interest in the Saddlebrook love triangle, at least for the moment. Neither Ambre nor Pete had disputed Carlos’ chronology that they had stopped dating before Carlos arrived. The terrorist and Basque connection gave the press bigger stories to write about.
The tie-in between Agbu and Ambre, and the possible drug connection, was more serious to the French. The picture was dated several months prior to the time she was suspended for violating the WTA drug policy. Ambre had claimed at the time it was a result of a doctor’s prescription for an allergy and some tennis fans were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt at the time, but not anymore. These were the same fans that believed Barry Bonds bulked up by working out at the gym. Ambre’s image was tarnished, as the fickle public was ready to believe the worst.
The women’s semifinals were set: 11:00 AM Justine Henin-Hardenne vs. Ambre followed by Mary Pierce vs. Lisa Simpson.
The press billed the early semifinal match between Henin-Hardenne and Ambre as the de-facto finals; the winner would be a heavy favorite in Saturday’s final. Justine had won the French Open in 2003 and was popular with the French crowd. Although only seeded #10 because of numerous injuries, she came into the match with a 23-match winning streak and three straight tournament championships.
The crowd reaction to Ambre was lukewarm as she walked onto center court. Many of the 15,000 fans jeered, a far cry from the adulation she had received in prior matches. The 1,500 or so Belgiums in the crowd cheered Henin-Hardenne wildly while the French fans appeared neutral. Ambre’s home-court advantage had disappeared.
Henin-Hardenne was quick around the court and possessed beautiful groundstrokes. Mary Carillo called her backhand the most elegant backhand in tennis. Her serve was only average and could produce double faults, but the rest of her game was solid. The big question was her health as she came into the tournament with a slight back injury that had required treatment in prior matches.
Some athletes would have caved under the pressure and the adverse reaction of the crowd, particularly since it would take almost a perfect match to upset the former champion. Ambre reacted to the adversity with an anger that was apparent to the crowd and her opponent. She took advantage of short second serves and five double faults to break Henin-Hardenne twice in the first set, the second time to win the set 7-5. “Yes! Come-on!” she screamed as she put away a volley on set point.
The Belgians in the crowd started to rhythmically clap and shout encouragement to Henin-Hardenne while the French fans remained silent. Ambre glared up at the crowd in anger, and was obviously unnerved by the lack of crowd support. The second set went to Henin-Hardenne 6-2 and the match was even.
Justine was serving at 3-1 when the match turned. At 30-15 Henin-Hardenne came to the net behind a huge backhand into the corner, forcing Ambre to throw up a defensive lob. Henin-Hardenne was in position to hit the overhead when the wind picked up and blew the ball over her shoulder and forcing her to hit an awkward overhead. She framed the shot sending it into the third row of the grandstands and fell to the ground contorted in pain. Her back had given out. After 10 minutes of treatment she tried to continue and attempted one painful serve before walking to the net to congratulate Ambre. The crowd gave her a standing ovation as she walked off center court.
Ambre didn’t bother to come back on the court to acknowledge the crowd. She quickly packed her tennis bag and headed to the dressing room. The polite applause from most of the French fans was drowned out by a chorus of boos and jeers. French newspapers would claim the booing came from the Belgian fans, but Ambre knew the truth, and so did everyone else that witnessed the terrible display of poor sportsmanship. After waiting 40 years for a French-born woman to reach their nation’s championship, they booed. Headlines of world newspapers proclaimed; “How Typically French.”
Juan was still injured from the explosion and eager to talk after learning that it was Agbu’s bomb that had caused the explosion. He described in detail the two days Agbu had spent in the apartment. Dr. Munyo had been disappointed to learn that Agbu had already gone and was concerned that the stitches would not hold. The bandages needed to be changed twice a day or the wound might become infected.
“I just told the doctor about the package Agbu had left for him, when your men knocked. I opened the door and the next thing I remember was your guy screaming something at the doctor and yanking me into the hallway. I tripped and was still lying on the floor when I felt the explosion.
“Where were the doctor and your roommate?”
Cal was sitting on the couch and I guess the doctor went in the bedroom to get the package. The bedroom door was open so I figure your guy saw Dr. Munyo holding the bomb, and then all I remember is feeling the shock of the explosion. I never heard it go off.”
It was an accident, Chris thought. Forensics had determined that the bomb was in the bedroom. Agbu must have left the bomb to kill the doctor and the two roommates. Alex and Ray were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her agents would be alive if they had been a little slower or if Chris had told them to wait for backup. The agents were not the targets. Chris wasn’t sure if this made her feel any better, but at least she knew. She was filled with revulsion that Agbu could execute the people that had tried to help him. There was no longer any doubt that Agbu was desperate and dangerous. He would not be easy to stop.
Juan provided them the cell phone number that he had called on Agbu’s behalf. The number was registered to Enrique, who had barely escaped from the raid on Basque sympathizers. Without divulging the source of her information, Chris asked the French police to put a trace on the number so the next time Enrique used that phone they would pinpoint his location. Unfortunately, the French phone company took 24 hours to implement the request and missed Agbu’s call to Enrique by minutes.
Juan also was able to recall most of the materials that Agbu had requested. It was the basic formula for making anthrax.
The French were closing in on Agbu from a different direction. Their prison informant had given them the names of the three men that had escaped with Enrique to the mountains. The night before they left two of the men were in a saloon boasting about a large stockpile of weapons at the cabin in the mountains. There was also a rumor about chemical weapons.
The backgrounds of the men with Enrique were also interesting. Rico had a reputation as a chemist and was constantly experimenting with home made beer and wine. Many suspected him of making chemical weapons. Stefano was a pilot who owned a small, single engine airplane he used for crop dusting. The plane was missing.
The informant had never been to the mountain hideout, but knew it was in the general vicinity of San Sebastian. A massive air and land search was begun, while additional pressure was put on the Basque prisoners that were still in custody.
Agbu’s meeting with his old friend at the Paris nightclub had gone well. They talked about old times for almost an hour before Agbu turned the conversation to the French Open and Roland Garros. Fifteen minutes later Agbu had the information he was looking for and the final piece of the puzzle was in place.
Lisa was greeted by thunderous ap
plause as she walked onto center court. It seemed every fan had a camera, most of them new Nikons. Lisa rewarded the crowd with a huge smile and wave. Mary Pierce, the higher seed, preceded Lisa onto the court and also received a nice reception, although slightly less enthusiastic than Lisa’s.
At least the French fans were consistent. Pierce, the 2000 French Open Champion, proclaimed to be French, but the French crowd never embraced her as one of their own. Pierce was born in Montreal and grew up in Florida. She claimed French citizenship when her father’s crude behavior thoroughly alienated US tennis officials. Unable to get special treatment and access to US training facilities, her father decided Mary would take advantage of the fact her mother was French-born. It was like Greg Rudinski in later years claiming he was English, not Canadian. It was within the rules, but British fans have never taken to Rudenski either. After winning the 2000 championship, Pierce further alienated many French fans by trying to speak to them in bad, Montreal French, with an American accent. Now, Pierce was back. Her French was more fluent and she appeared fully recovered from a series of injuries, but the French crowd still kept her at arms length. Lisa appeared to be the crowd favorite.
Mary Pierce possessed a high-risk game that could be very good or terrible. When on, her flat, hard groundstrokes penetrated the court. At other times her lack of mobility or net game overshadowed her strengths. Lisa wondered which Mary Pierce would show up.
I think it bothered Pierce that the crowd was not totally behind her. Regardless of the reason, she never got into the match and handed Lisa a surprisingly easy 6-1, 6-1 win. Pierce was gracious in defeat and received a nice round of applause as she left the court waving for possibly the last time. She wasn’t getting any younger and the injuries were starting to take their toll.
Lisa congratulated Pierce and the chair umpire and put her racquets in her tennis bag, before returning to the court to a thunderous ovation and thousands of flash bulbs. The decibels increased when she pulled a new, Nikon mini-cam, and filmed her adoring fans as she turned and waved in all directions.
Lisa was in the finals of the French Open.
The French zeroed in on Enrique, narrowing his location to the mountains around San Sebastian. Friday evening they got a break due in large part to the popularity of GPS telephones. Companies now issue mobile phones to sales reps or drivers because this type of phone gives a precise location and whereabouts of the employee. Parents want GPS phones to know where their children are. This technology provided the French police with a key breakthrough.
Enrique had placed a call from the cell phone number Juan had provided. The call was from Southern France, just over the border. Within an hour they organized a joint French-Spanish operation and raided the farmhouse. They found the cell phone in the bedroom of an elderly couple that had owned the farm for 36 years, but missed Enrique and his friends by hours. “They told us not to use the phone until Sunday, but we wanted to see if it worked,” the farmer explained.
Police quickly got a description of the car and broadcast an all-points bulletin with instructions to apprehend the three men in the vehicle on sight. “They are armed and dangerous,” the communication warned. The fourth terrorist, presumably Stefano, had left by plane before dawn. Police alerted private airports to be on the lookout for a single engine crop duster with black and yellow markings.
Chris and a team of CIA forensics agents arrived minutes later and searched the barn where the four men had stayed. After an hour of searching they had found nothing of substance. It was clear that Enrique and his friends had been there, but they had left nothing behind. The dogs arrived just before the agents were ready to give up, and quickly pointed the men to the trapdoor hidden in a horse stall under a foot of straw and manure. Guns drawn, they descended into the 20 x 20 basement. They didn’t like what they found. “There is a virtual armory here,” the agents reported. “They have everything from handguns to rocket launchers.”
Twenty minutes later they discovered the 300-kilometer tunnel that led to a well-equipped, 20x20 chemistry lab. “We’re not experts,” they reported back to headquarters, “but it doesn’t look like they have been making wine. We better get someone up here to look at this. It could be anthrax.”