“You killed them, too?”
“Yeah, lucky shot with a grenade. We need to get one of these goons alive, but I haven’t managed that yet.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about that. Where’d you get the gun anyway?”
“It was Dad’s. Got it from his bedroom when I heard the footsteps.”
“You sure know how to use it.”
“Well, Dad insisted. So, you still got the Pakistani in Kenya?”
“No, the two Kenyans have a plane. They’re bringing him over. He’s not going anywhere until he talks.”
“Okay, you’re taking me to a safe place, but you’re also bringing the Pakistani defense minister to the same place? How safe is that?”
“Nobody knows where we are. You’ll see when we get there.”
“You never told me how you ended up working there.”
“That was pretty easy. After the injury, I never got drafted. Jenny offered me the job out of the blue and I needed the work. Thought it was gonna be a desk job. What about you? What do you do?”
“I just graduated from GW. Haven’t found a job yet. Been waiting tables and bartending. Late nights fending off drunken advances mostly.”
“What did you study?”
“Would you believe journalism? Thought I wanted to be a reporter. Now…not so sure.”
“You play any sports?”
“Soccer four years.”
“Thought so.”
“You knew I played soccer?”
“No, just figured you for an athlete.”
“I saw you get hurt. Watching the game with Dad. You ever think about it much?”
“Days like today, yes. Darn knee hurts like crazy. Doing this isn’t the best rehab.”
“Not like that. Any regrets?”
“At first…yes…watching my teammates win a championship a week later…that was rough. I was so proud of them and it hurt like crazy not being on the field. After yesterday…no regrets.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Didn't make the news? Incident at the NBA playoff game in Detroit.”
“Oh that? There was a blurb on Fox about it. Some nut job came in the loading dock area and shot the security cop. Cop got him too. Found both bodies after the game. Weird.”
“They sure swept that under the rug. Maybe for the best.”
“There was more to it than that?”
“Yeah. The nut job had poison gas canisters and was about to put them in the ventilation system. He was opening one when I shot him.”
“What about the cop?”
“Already dead when I got there.”
“Poison gas in the ventilation system at an NBA arena? How many would have died?”
“No telling. Almost twenty thousand fans in there. Game had already started. Maybe someone would have started evacuating people, but if it was VX gas, a lot of people would have died pretty fast. Could have been hundreds…or thousands. Thirty seconds later I would have been too late. Wouldn’t have been there if I got drafted.”
“Maybe someone else would have stopped it.”
“Don’t know. As much intel as we had, you’d think the CIA would have caught it as well, but nobody else was there.”
“So, you were in Detroit to stop that and then you just up and show up at my dad’s house four hours later?”
“He sent a message to us, wanted to talk and thought someone was following him. I got the first flight from Detroit and came straight there. Too late this time. Sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about.”
“I know, just sorry about the whole thing. I can’t imagine…”
“I’m trying not to think about it much. Who would want him dead?”
“As weird as it seems, I’m thinking it’s the same people who tried to kill Ansari.”
“But there’s no connection…is there?”
“Not that he was aware of. I’m still trying to piece it together. Doesn’t make much sense, unless all of this…all of these attacks…someone’s behind all of them.”
“And Dad found something out?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. Even if he didn’t, someone’s trying to tie up loose ends. Eliminate anyone who could know anything, whether they do or not.”
“And that made Mom a target too? What kind of heartless son of a…”
“And you as well. You were all targets.”
“So now I’m still a target?”
“Probably. Your dad could have talked to you. They don’t know if he did or not. Why take chances?”
“That explains a lot then.”
“Explains what?”
“He sent me a text from the restaurant. Told me to take the thumb drive from his desk. I have no idea what’s on it.”
“You have it?”
“In my purse somewhere.”
“Jenny will want to see it when we get there. Hey, I saw that.”
“Saw what?”
“That yawn.”
“Yeah…”
“Just put the seat back and grab some Zs. I’m good.”
“I don’t want to sleep. Afraid.”
“You have any bad dreams, I’ll wake you up, okay?”
He waited a moment for a reply, but there was none. Her head was against the window and she was gone.
The Office
Five hours later
Jenny heard the elevator door and turned to see Casey and Rachel exit and come toward her. She got up and approached them, took one look at Rachel, and enveloped her in a hug.
“Casey told me. I’m so sorry.”
Rachel buried her head in Jenny’s shoulder and for the first time gave in to the grief. Casey went to Ahmed’s desk and pulled up a chair.
“Good job in Detroit, buddy,” Ahmed said.
“It was a close call. A few seconds later…”
“Well you made it. Shame about the cop. That was on the news, but they didn’t say anything about the gas.”
“Probably for the best. You know how people would be if that got out.”
“Was the attacker an Arab?”
“Looked like it.”
“Good they swept it under the rug then. I get enough bad looks as it is.”
“Where’s Avi this morning?”
“Headed to the lake. Ken’s arriving any minute with our new house guest.”
“That should be interesting. I wonder if he knows yet.”
“Ken said they’ve been drugging him on the flight. He’ll find out when he gets here, sure enough.”
“You think he’ll talk?”
“What choice does he have?”
“What would happen if we turned him back over to his government with evidence?”
Ahmed made a gesture of drawing his finger across his throat.
“Exactly. I think he’ll talk. If not, you and Miriam could put the fear of Allah in him.”
“Not sure that would work. To him, we’re probably no better than infidels.”
“You’re all Muslims?”
“It doesn’t quite work like that. Yeah, I go to Mosque when I can and do my prayers, but that’s about it. Half my family is ashamed of me. Most of us in the U.S., we’re what the media calls moderate. Some of the folks in the Middle East would use a different word. We’re apostate. We live in the west and tolerate Christians and Jews. I have cousins who would just as soon cut your head off, and mine too just for being your friend.”
“Ansari probably doesn’t want to lose his head.”
“Right, but his options can’t be that good right now. Treason against his home country or terrorism against the U.S. Off with your head or life in prison.”
“At his age, life in prison probably wouldn’t be so bad. How many years can he have left?”
“So, this is where you work,” Rachel said.
“Oh, yeah…Rachel, this is Ahmed…Ahmed, Rachel.”
“Pleased to meet you, Ahmed.”
“The
pleasure is all mine…and over here with headphones on ignoring us is Miriam.”
Ahmed reached over and pulled the headphones away from Miriam’s ear to get her attention. She paused the audio file she was translating and came over to greet Rachel.
“Nice to meet you. Heard what happened. I’m so sorry.”
The two exchanged a hug.
“Guys, I hate to be anti-social,” Casey said, “but I haven’t had much rest the last couple days. I’m gonna grab a shower and a nap. Wake me when Avi gets here.”
21
Jeremy Hess heard the door chime and wheeled from the back room to the front counter of Jarhead Bait & Tackle, where a familiar face greeted him.
“Why hello professor, what can I do for you today?”
“Come on, Jeremy, how many times have I told you…”
“Yeah, name’s Avi and you’re retired. Takes some getting used to.”
“I’m a bit thirsty. What you got in the fridge?”
“Just stocked it. Water, pop, beer…whatever you want.”
“I’d like a beer, but I have to drive back to Harrison. Got any lemonade?”
“Sure, buck fifty for the good stuff, or a dollar for the other.”
“Life is too short to drink cheap lemonade,” he said as he handed Jeremy two dollars, “Keep the change.”
“Not fishing today? Fine day for it.”
“No. Picking up some friends. They should be here shortly.”
“They gonna be tying up a boat?”
“Not exactly.”
“You’re gonna have to go out with me when you get some time. Got me a new boat that can take the wheelchair. Well, boss man bought it for me.”
“You have it here? Can we take a look while we wait for my friends?”
“Sure thing. It’s tied up right at the pier.”
Avi walked with Jeremy as he wheeled to the pier and stopped alongside what at first glance looked like any other fishing boat. It became clear that this was no ordinary boat as Jeremy manipulated a set of controls on his wheelchair that caused a hydraulic ramp to extend from the side of the boat to the pier.
“The remote is built into my chair. I can wheel right into the boat and secure the chair behind the steering wheel. There is also a place to secure the chair in the back if I want to fish from there. And all the storage lockers are reachable from the chair. He had it custom built.”
“That is a very fine boat. You have some boss.”
“Tell me about it. But you’ve known him longer than I have. More of a friend than a boss.”
“You hear that? My friends are coming.”
Jeremy scanned the water for an incoming boat and saw nothing.
“Not on the water, up there,” Avi said as he pointed at the sky.
Jeremy looked up and saw the amphibious plane grow larger by the second until it touched down on the lake and taxied to a stop against the pier. A moment later Ken stepped from the plane to the pier with a rope and made everything secure. He went back into the plane and emerged a minute later with Elijah, a groggy Tariq Ansari supported between them.
“My car is unlocked,” Avi said to Ken, “You can secure our friend in the back seat and I’ll be with you shortly.”
“That guy looks familiar,” Jeremy said as he watched Ken walk Ansari to the car, “I’ve seen him on the news.”
“If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything,” Avi said.
“That guy’s been missing for a few days and your friends had him all along?”
“Something like that, but you don’t know anything.”
“That’s right. I didn’t see anything. So, you’re off so soon?”
“Afraid so.”
“Okay, but you gotta come back when you have some time.”
“Sounds great, but I’ll have to take a rain check for now.”
“Jenny, you might want to take a look at this,” Ahmed said.
Jenny pulled up a chair at Ahmed’s workstation.
“Whatcha got?”
“Rachel gave me this thumb drive before she took her nap. It’s from her dad’s computer. It was encrypted, so I’m just now seeing the files.”
“So, he didn’t drop the ball. He forwarded your file to the FBI director and copied his subordinates with instructions to prioritize the intel and act on it immediately.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He knew he was innocent and he still took the fall.”
“He didn’t know who he could trust. Either someone else at the CIA intercepted the email or it was ignored. This is serious.”
“Can’t be too many people involved. I’m betting his emails got intercepted.”
“What’s that audio file there?”
“Haven’t played it yet.”
“Let’s give it a listen.”
Ahmed played the file and they heard Prescott’s conversation with FBI director Steve Walcott.
“That sounds pretty cut and dried,” Jenny said.
“So why did Prescott just dump it on the FBI?” Ahmed asked.
“Technically, the CIA can’t operate on U.S. soil, so something like this would fall under the FBI’s counterintelligence division. The FBI would have the authority to act on something like this, as well as the jurisdiction to perform arrests. Prescott was acting according to the law.”
“And covering his ass by recording that call.”
“Ahmed…” Miriam said.
“Pardon me, covering his behind.”
“Yes, he did cover himself. I feel bad for ripping into him now,” Jenny said, “I should have known it wasn’t his jurisdiction.”
“Then the president should have known that as well, but he sure didn’t waste any time getting rid of him.”
“Should we take a look at Walcott’s email, see if he did anything?” Miriam asked.
“I already took care of that,” Jenny said, “he forwarded the file to a couple subordinates and make a call to the counterintelligence division as soon as he got off the call with Prescott.”
“Then who dropped the ball?” Ahmed asked.
“That’s what we have to figure out. It doesn’t smell right. How many more files are on that drive?”
“Just a couple more that I’m waiting on. The encryption is pretty good.”
“So, Prescott was paranoid about something.”
“Yes, he was,” Rachel said as she pulled a chair up to look over Ahmed’s shoulder, “Anything interesting on that drive?”
“Good Lord girl, you startled me. Have you always been that good at sneaking up on people?” Jenny asked.
“Runs in the family.”
“You have a nice nap?”
“For a while until the dreams came. Figured I’d come out here.”
“We’re still cracking the encryption. We found a recorded conversation with the FBI director. Your dad did everything by the book, turning the threat over to the FBI because they would have the authority to act on domestic issues.”
“So, the FBI let it happen?”
“I found email and phone conversations coming from the FBI director where he contacted the proper departments, so on the surface it doesn’t look like the blame is his either.”
“So, Dad did exactly what he should have done and the president still fired him? And he did nothing to fight it? This doesn’t make any sense.”
“There are still quite a few files on this drive. The computer’s deciphering them as fast as it can, but it might be a while before we have everything. How long was your dad acting paranoid?” Ahmed said.
The elevator door opened and Ken and Elijah ushered Ansari into the room, followed by Avi.
“Ahmed, I think we might need your services as a translator. Let the computer do its thing,” Jenny said.
The drugs were wearing off and for the first time in the last couple days Ansari was beginning to worry. These Africans had saved his life, but one of them had disappeared and now they had brought him a long way to a secretive base of some sort. He became
more worried as Ken and Elijah lead him to a small room with a table and he was instructed to sit down. An attractive young woman sat down across from him and was joined by an even younger Arab man.
“Hello Tariq,” Jenny said, “I’ve been looking forward to talking with you.”
Ahmed translated this and Ansari’s eyes went wide for a moment before he got control of himself.
“My name is not Tariq, it is…”
“Cut the crap,” Ahmed answered in Arabic, without waiting for Jenny, “We know who you are.”
“What did you just tell him?” Jenny asked.
“What you were probably going to say anyway,” Ahmed said, “I told him we know who he is.”
“Let’s do this the right way from now on, okay?”
“Tariq, we know who you are. There’s no denying that.”
Jenny waited for Ahmed to translate and from then on, the conversation flowed well enough, or as well as it could with both parties waiting for the translation.
“We know how much money you were paid and we know that you fled the country the next morning and went to Kenya. What we don’t know is why you were paid that much and who paid you. That is what you’re going to tell us.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” he replied.
“Who we are doesn’t matter. What does matter is that someone else wants you dead, and I imagine your country would probably want the same if we turned you over with the evidence we have. You are only alive right now because of us.”
“Why should I tell anything to an infidel?”
“Fine, have it your way. Ahmed, you talk to him. You know what we need. This middle man stuff is too tedious.”
Jenny left the room and Ahmed looked Ansari in the eye, addressing him in Arabic.
“Okay, Tariq, you’re going to tell us whatever you know. If you’re cooperative, you might live a bit longer. If not, we can take you back to Islamabad. How long do you figure you’d last there?”
Wolf Trap (Casey Reddick Book 1) Page 16
