He handed me the device.
I turned to the other officer, “You call this in and stay with the family. Tell dispatch we’re tracking the vehicle south on Main. We’ll radio our location from time to time. Tell them to send backup.”
By the time we left the hotel on Pershing Road, the kidnappers were already passing Thirty-first Street.
“We don’t want to spook them,” Ox said. “Let’s move over to Gillham Road where we can use our lights and sirens. You watch that GPS thing and maybe we can get ahead of them.”
I called dispatch and kept them informed of the kidnapper’s movements.
The blip on the screen slowed down and seemed to stop at Thirty-seventh Street.
“Hang a right on Thirty-ninth,” I said. “We’re past them. We can head north on Main and cut them off.”
We had just passed Thirty-eighth, when we saw a vehicle pull up in front of one of the old hotels that had been converted to apartments.
“There!” I said. “That’s them. I see a driver and another man in the back seat holding Julio.”
Just then, another cruiser appeared with lights and siren blaring.
It pulled up in back of the vehicle and we pulled up to within inches of the front bumper cutting off any possible escape.
All four of us leaped from our cruisers with weapons drawn and approached the car.
“HANDS ON THE WHEEL!” Ox bellowed.
Realizing that their situation was hopeless, the kidnappers surrendered quietly.
Seeing a familiar face, little Julio threw himself into my arms and held on tight.
A very happy and relieved Velasquez family met us in the lobby of the Crown Center hotel.
Diego thanked us profusely, but as I returned the GPS tracker, I couldn’t help but think that without that device, the outcome might have been quite different.
As I drove home that evening, I was a man torn in two different directions.
In the space of just a few weeks, miracles of modern technology had helped us save a baby, find an injured driver, take drug dealers off the street, and capture the creeps that had taken little Julio.
These same technological wonders had also been responsible for casting suspicion on Arnie and Nick, two guys just trying to be good citizens by keeping the public informed.
Even worse, it had led to the arrest and detention of Professor Rhinehart, Amir and the other Pakistani students and their host families.
I marveled that there are so many things in our lives that can be either a blessing and or a curse depending on how they are used.
Once again I thought of the monumental task that Lady Justice has, trying to keep things in balance, and I realized that now, more than ever, she would need all the help we could give her.
She can’t do it alone.
There are just too many things and too many people to watch.
CHAPTER 16
As the day of the All Star Game drew closer, Mustafa finalized plans for his assault.
Each day, small pieces of the C-4 were smuggled into the stadium and hidden among the pyrotechnics used during regular games.
By July 10th, there would be enough to fill the four hot dog containers that the vendors wore around their necks.
He had Zareef and the other three vendors making trips to the outfield on a regular basis so that their presence on All Star day would not be suspicious.
Bit by bit, the parts for the devices that would be used to trigger the C-4 were carried in and stowed in the vendor’s lockers.
At home in the evenings, the four men practiced assembling the triggering devices until they could do it blindfolded.
Although Zareef was thoroughly committed to his role in the attack, he was amazed at the distractions that presented themselves --- distractions that could have made him waiver in his determination if he had let them.
One of the biggest distractions was Julie.
For some reason, maybe because he was so pathetic in the beginning, she had taken him under her wing.
She tutored him in the art of making change and was constantly inviting him to the informal gatherings of the stadium personnel.
He saw her often at the games and when she passed him as she went about her usherette duties, she would touch his arm.
Occasionally, when their eyes met, she would give him a little wave and a wink that would make his heart melt.
The other distraction was the people at the Three Trails Hotel.
The old woman with the bat had turned out to be more of a housemother than a landlady.
She was always fussing around the place making sure that everything was running smoothly.
He figured out right away that she really cared for the tenants and for the old hotel itself and that her bark was a lot worse than her bite.
He had seen a policeman stop by the place several times and found out from Old Man Feeney that he was the owner.
He always stayed in his room until the cop was gone. No point in arousing suspicion.
Lawrence Wingate, his neighbor and fellow worker at the stadium had taken him to the diner and showed him the location of the closest laundromat.
He had been upset when Mustafa had dumped him off at the old hotel, but the people had welcomed him and made him feel at ease.
There were worse places that he could spend his final days.
“How many times must I tell you?” Professor Rhinehart shouted. “There were only six Pakistani boys in our exchange program. Only six!”
Mark Davenport stomped out of the interrogation room and joined Lyman Rawlings in the adjoining room with the one-way mirror.
“I can’t break him, Lyman. What do you think?”
“He’s either one of the toughest old coots we’ve ever run across or he’s telling the truth.”
“We’ve looked at these six kids from every angle,” Davenport said, “and we’ve come up empty. We’ve found absolutely nothing to suggest that they’re anything but students.”
“That certainly doesn’t explain the email transmissions that Echelon picked up just as they were leaving the country. It can’t be just a coincidence.”
“I have one more boy to question. Keep your fingers crossed.”
Davenport looked at the sheet of paper in his hand. “You’re Amir Akhtar. Is that correct?”
Amir nodded.
“You’re staying with Professor Rhinehart?”
He nodded again.
“Why are you holding us? We’ve done no wrong.”
“I’m afraid we have no choice. We have to hold you until we are absolutely certain that the six of you are not plotting against the United States.”
Amir looked surprised. “Six? I thought there were seven of us.”
Davenport couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Seven? Are you sure?”
“In the beginning I was told that there were six of us, but then a seventh boy joined us at the airport.”
“What was his name? Tell me about him!”
“I --- I don’t remember much. It was so long ago --- and I have not seen him since we got off the plane.”
“Think! Concentrate! This is really important!”
Amir closed his eyes.
“I think his name was Zareef --- he never spoke his surname. I asked him where he went to school and he said the University of Karachi.
“Then it was time to board the plane and we spoke no more.”
Davenport ran back to the interrogation room where Dr. Rhinehart was being held.
“Professor, what is the name of your student from the University of Karachi?”
He thought for a moment. “That would be Nasir Shakoor.”
“Could there be another?”
“No, we selected only one student from each university. Nasir was the only one from Karachi.”
“Then who is Zareef?”
The Professor looked puzzled. “I have no idea. He certainly wasn’t part of our exchange program.”
&nb
sp; Davenport returned to the adjoining room.
“Lyman, we’ve found our bogey!”
CHAPTER 17
Our next squad meeting was certainly one to remember.
The Captain opened with some words of praise.
“I want to thank the officers assigned to the Velasquez security team. What could have become an embarrassing international situation ended happily due to the quick and decisive action of the team.
“The Velasquez family asked me to extend their thanks and good wishes to the men involved.”
I couldn’t help thinking again, that the outcome could have been very different without Diego’s RFID device.
The Captain continued, “This incident is just a reminder that with any event inside our city, there are those waiting in the shadows to take advantage of the occasion.
“With that in mind, we must focus our attention on an upcoming event of major proportions --- the All Star Game.
“As you are aware, the eyes of the nation will be focused on Kansas City next week, and like the Super Bowl, such an event requires heightened security to ensure the safety and well being of the fans that will come from all over the country.
“Our department will be a part of the security team led by the Department of Homeland Security.
“I will now turn the meeting over to Mark Davenport.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“My mission here today is not to alarm you, but to prepare you for the events of the coming week.
“Any time there is an event of national significance, it is the responsibility of the Department of Homeland Security to assess any possible threats.
“Due to some transmissions that my department has intercepted and the possibility of a rogue agent in the city, we have declared the All Star Game to be a NSSE, a National Special Security Event, as was the recent Super Bowl in Indianapolis.
“An NSSE designation puts the United States Secret Service in charge of event security, the Federal Bureau of Investigation in charge of intelligence, counter terrorism, hostage rescue and investigation of incidents of terrorism or other major criminal activities associated with the NSSE, and the Federal Emergency Management Agency in charge of recovery management in the aftermath of terrorist or other major criminal incidents, natural disasters or other catastrophic events.
“We will be setting up a mobile command center just outside the stadium that will coordinate all of the event security.
“Gamma ray cargo and vehicle scanners that can see through six inches of steel will be installed at every entrance to monitor all vehicular traffic.
“Surveillance cameras will be installed that will record every inch of the stadium and perches for law enforcement snipers will be erected.
“Teams from the National Nuclear Security Administration will be on hand with equipment to detect radioactive isotopes that could be emitted by a dirty bomb.”
Naturally, that statement made me think of Nick’s goofy transmissions broadcasting, ‘I dropped my bomb pop today and got it dirty’.
I’m guessing that the Federal Snoops got their panties in a wad over that one.
Mark continued, “During the game the airspace for a 30-mile radius over the stadium will be restricted and patrolled by NORAD fighter jets.”
“So no little fly-overs with a Cessna pulling a banner encouraging you to ‘EAT AT JOE’S’,” I thought.
“Behind the scene, we will have chemical and biological detection devices, bomb-retrieving robots, high-tech weaponry, and even a small unmanned aerial vehicle equipped with a camera that could fly inside the stadium if necessary.
“Officers, you are a vital part of this security team. You will be patrolling the grounds and the stadium on foot, constantly monitoring the crowd for suspicious or unruly behavior.
“One more thing, you are our eyes and ears on the street.
“We are looking for a person of interest --- a Pakistani National. He would be in his early twenties and goes by the name Zareef. That’s about all we know, but if such an individual comes under your radar, report to us immediately.”
So there it was. Homeland Security was looking for a Pakistani and Amir and his friends were easy targets.
The Captain took the podium.
“I’m sure all of us are proud and eager to join with the Federal agencies to provide security for our city.
“Unfortunately with the influx of thousands of people, this is going to put a strain on our resources.
“Until the All Star game is over, all leave is cancelled and overtime has been approved.
“Your assignments have been posted.
“Walt, please stop by my office after the meeting.”
When I entered the Captain’s office, I was surprised to see Mark Davenport.
“Walt, I wanted a word with you in private. I know you had a personal interest in the Pakistani students and their host families and I wanted you to know that they’re being released today.”
I was both angry and relieved.
“What --- no bombs in the Professor’s office? No nuclear devices in the student’s book bags?”
“I know you’re upset and I understand, but it was a matter of national security.”
“National security! That’s your little catch phrase that lets you ignore the Constitution and the Bill of Rights and trample our individual freedoms!”
“Walt, these are troubled times. Since September 11, the world has changed. You have no idea how many similar incidents have been averted because of our heightened security.”
“But these people were innocent!” I protested. “They had absolutely nothing to do with terrorism!”
“You are right, of course, but if we hadn’t picked up and detained them, we would never have known about this Zareef character.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Zareef was posing as an exchange student to get into the country. Your friend Amir identified him.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m truly sorry that these people were inconvenienced, but think about it --- thousands of people may be at risk at the All Star Game and Amir gave us a valuable lead. Such a small inconvenience is the price we pay for the greater good.”
“So that’s it,” I thought. “In today’s world, personal freedom is now expendable if such sacrifice serves the ‘greater good’.
I could certainly see his point, but the relegation to second-class status of one of our country’s most cherished institutions was difficult to accept.
Ox and I, along with hundreds in the department, were assigned to stadium duty.
Each morning, we reported to the fifty-one foot mobile command center that Homeland Security had brought in.
Our police cruiser, like every other vehicle entering the vast parking lot was scanned by the gamma-ray gizmo.
Knowing that it could penetrate six inches of steel made me wonder what affect it might be having on my internal organs.
If I were still in my childbearing years, I might be concerned that my little swimmers might be trying to make it to the promised land without a tail.
Even though fences surrounded the lots, armed soldiers from the National Guard patrolled the perimeter of the stadium.
It was truly exciting to be able to walk where the typical fan would never go.
One morning, we were assigned to accompany the canine patrol. These fantastic bomb-sniffing dogs were so well trained that they could find a ladyfinger in a haystack.
On this particular morning, we were patrolling behind the giant scoreboard and water spectacular.
A stadium employee walked by and the dog went berserk. It took all the handler’s strength to restrain the animal.
The frightened employee flattened himself against the wall with the dog straining at his leash just inches away.
Naturally, the uproar brought a wave of security personnel.
It turned out that the employee was part of the staff in charge of the pyrotech
nics used during and after the games.
He had been working in a room filled with aerial bombs and rockets that would be launched at appropriate times.
The dog had done his job, but it was, of course, a false alarm.
When our tour with the canine patrol was over, I patted the big German Shepherd on the head. Naturally, he responded by sticking his snoot in my groin and taking a sniff.
He apparently found nothing explosive there and quickly moved on.
A lesser man might have suffered a blow to his ego, but I knew there was enough in the package he had passed on, to blow my sweetie away.
On another of our rounds, we passed a crew installing surveillance cameras.
I heard a voice coming from the top of a ladder, “Walt, is that you?”
I looked up and saw Lawrence Wingate waving from his perch high above the seats.
He climbed down and grabbed my hand. “Long time no see.”
“Lawrence, I didn’t know that you worked for the Royals.”
“Actually I don’t. My company was contracted to set up part of the security for the big game.”
He pointed to the camera, “All of these little babies are linked together into one massive system. They will be able to see everyone and everything. We can zero in close enough to see what a person is writing on their scorecard.”
“Pretty impressive.”
“Plus, I’ve scored these,” he said, proudly holding up a pair of tickets. “Guess who I’m bringing to the big game?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“Mary!”
“Mary --- Mary Murphy --- my Mary?”
“Yep! She’s been so good to me and she’s such a big baseball fan. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”
“I’ll bet she’s higher than a kite.”
“She was pretty excited, all right. Well, I’d better get back to work. These little fellows won’t install themselves.”
“Hmmm, Mary at the All Star Game --- what could possibly go wrong there?”
At last, the big day arrived.
[Lady Justice 08] - Lady Justice and the Watchers Page 14
