by Lisa Harris
After Carlton and Frank wrapped up the briefing, I walked over to where Alice was sitting and picked up the eyeglasses.
Once she showed me how to turn on the camera by pressing a decorative icon on the earpiece, I waited for Ben and Jennifer to get instructions from her about their devices, and then we all headed over to the New Headquarters Building to pick up our weapons from the Agency’s small arms depository in Support Services.
As we got off the elevator on the second floor, my cell phone vibrated, and when I noticed Senator Mitchell’s name on my screen, I told them I needed to take the call, and I’d catch up with them in a few minutes.
I didn’t tell Ben the Senator was calling me.
I hadn’t mentioned the role his father had played in getting me to come to Washington. Although I was still planning to tell him about it, I hadn’t found an appropriate time to bring it up yet.
Not that I’d actually been looking for one.
Once I stepped over to a set of windows that provided a panoramic view of the Virginia countryside, I answered the Senator’s call.
“Good afternoon, Senator.”
“Titus, why haven’t you called me? I’ve been expecting to hear from you for the past two days. Have you convinced Ben to come to his senses and get over his silly infatuation with the Imam’s daughter?”
“Not yet, but it’s looking more promising all the time.”
“Well, that’s good news. How soon do you think he’ll break up with her?”
“I’d say it could happen tonight.”
“Excellent. The timing’s perfect. The Senate hearings on the Turkish situation are scheduled to start Monday morning.”
“I’m sure it will all be over by then.”
“See? I knew it would only take a word or two from you, and Ben would realize how foolish he was to get involved with her. Kamila may be a lovely woman, but the fact that Faraji Hanim is her father makes Ben’s relationship with her extremely complicated.”
“Yeah, it makes everything complicated.”
“Well, I’ve gotta run now. Thanks for helping me out and for making sure Ben stays out of trouble. I’m counting on you to keep your eye on him.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll definitely keep my eye on him.”
“I’m sure you will, and if Ben knew you were watching his back, he’d probably appreciate it too.”
Ben knew I was watching his back.
Whether he appreciated it or not didn’t matter.
All that mattered was keeping the Imam safe tonight if Nazim had plans for his men to storm the compound during the birthday party.
My gut was telling me it was when and not if.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time the three of us got to Ben’s house around four-thirty, we had less than thirty minutes to get dressed before Kamila was due to arrive at five o’clock.
I had just finished inserting my Glock 19 in my side holster when I heard the doorbell ring, and since we agreed Jennifer and I would be sitting in the living room when Kamila walked in the door, I quickly put on my sports jacket, grabbed my WAV device eyeglasses off the dresser in Ben’s guest room, and hurried down the hallway.
When I got to the living room, Jennifer was sitting on the couch wearing a silky-looking black dress with Alice’s black onyx necklace dangling from her neck, and Ben was standing by the front door dressed in a navy blue suit, wearing the navy blue tie with the silver hexagons—Alice said the WAV device was embedded in a hexagon.
The moment I sat down on the couch next to Jennifer, I gave Ben a nod, and he walked over and opened the door.
When Kamila stepped in the room and glanced over at the couch, I had a flashback to a few days ago when I’d seen her at the rehab center, and for a brief moment I wondered if she might remember seeing me outside the door of her therapy room.
I told myself I looked a lot different than I did then, especially since I was wearing glasses, and as Ben introduced us, I could read nothing on her face that would indicate she recognized me.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Kamila,” I said, standing up and offering her my hand, “and thank you for the invitation to attend your mother’s birthday party.”
“Yes, thank you for inviting us,” Jennifer said. “It’s very kind of you.”
“I’m delighted you could join us.” She looked over at Ben and gave him a smile. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting some of Ben’s friends all week, especially someone who works with him at CIS.”
She took a step toward Ben and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He hesitated a moment, but then he put his arm around her waist and drew her close to him. I had a feeling Kamila was expecting Ben to kiss her. Instead, after a few seconds, he stepped away from her, stole a quick glance over at Jennifer, and reached inside his pocket and pulled out his car keys.
“I guess we better head up to Great Falls now,” he said. “Traffic is always heavy on the Georgetown this time of evening.”
“Aren’t you going to comment on my outfit, Ben?”
Kamila stepped over to the center of the room and assumed a model-like pose. “I know how much you love it when I wear red.”
Kamila was wearing an off-the-shoulder red dress that reached just below her knees. The color was a striking contrast to her coal-black hair, which was pinned away from her face—perhaps to show off the diamond necklace she was wearing. She also had on a pair of black three-inch heels and was carrying a matching handbag.
“You look fantastic, Kamila. Red is definitely your color.”
She gave Ben a smile, and then she gestured at Jennifer. “I love your dress, Jennifer, and your necklace is absolutely gorgeous. The pendant looks similar to an antique piece my mother inherited from my grandmother.”
“Yes,” Jennifer said, fingering the black onyx pendant, “this necklace has been in my family for several generations.”
As we walked out and got inside Ben’s SUV, the ladies continued chatting about their fashion accessories. However, once we were on the expressway headed north toward Great Falls, Kamila glanced in the back seat where Jennifer and I were sitting and addressed me. “Titus, I understand you’re an expert on the Middle East. What’s your assessment of what’s happening in Turkey today?”
“Are you asking me about the economic situation or the political climate?”
“I suppose I’m asking you about both, but I believe Turkey’s economy would rebound if the leaders in the People’s Liberation Party would stop spreading false rumors about President Evren’s economic reforms. The PLP is also responsible for inciting the riots, and that’s why there’s so much upheaval in the country today.”
“I wouldn’t place the blame entirely on the PLP,” I said. “I believe President Evren has to bear some of the responsibility for the chaos. Perhaps if he would refrain from blaming the U.S. when there’s an uprising and begin to address the corruption in his administration, the country would be able to move forward.”
Kamila shook her head. “The country can’t move forward until someone stands up and denounces the PLP, which is something I’ve been urging my father to do ever since President Evren accused him of working with them to overthrow his presidency.”
I asked, “Should I refrain from bringing up this topic with the Imam tonight, or is it something he would be willing to discuss with me? I certainly wouldn’t want to say anything to offend him.”
Kamila laughed. “Oh, he’ll be willing to discuss it with you, all right. Just be prepared for him to ask you lots of questions, some of which have nothing to do with the topic.”
Ben said, “She’s got that right. He grilled me pretty good last Saturday night, but it wasn’t about politics; it was mostly about American culture.”
Kamila placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Now that he knows you’re Senator Mitchell’s son, you won’t get off so easily tonight.”
She looked over in the back seat. “I didn’t tell my father Ben was related to Senato
r Mitchell, but my brother Omer found out about it, which means we’ll definitely have to discuss politics tonight.”
Since Ben and I figured Omer would recognize me as the person who was outside Ben’s townhouse when they had their confrontation, we agreed one of us should bring this up with Kamila.
Her remark sounded like the perfect opening, so I said, “I could tell your brother was upset that you kept that information from him.”
Kamila looked puzzled. “Do you know Omer?”
Ben looked over at Kamila. “Titus was waiting for me outside my townhouse the other day when Omer paid me a visit. He saw the whole thing.”
“Oh, I see.” She shrugged and shook her head. “You’re right. Omer got mad about it, but that’s because he’s paranoid about Senator Mitchell’s congressional hearings on the situation in Turkey. For some reason, he thinks the Imam will be extradited back to Turkey when the hearings are over.”
Ben shook his head. “That won’t happen.”
Nobody said anything for a few seconds, but then Kamila said, “It might actually be a good thing if the Imam went back to Turkey. He has a great deal of influence on the PLP, so if he could get them to denounce violence, they could form a coalition with President Evren’s supporters, and Turkey would be a united country again.”
Jennifer said, “You don’t really believe your father would willingly go back to Turkey, do you?”
“No,” Kamila said, shaking her head, “not willingly.”
By the time we arrived on the outskirts of Great Falls, the conversation had turned to the birthday party for Miray Hanim, Kamila’s mother.
I thought Kamila seemed a lot less tense when she began telling us what we should expect when we arrived at Camp Tamal. “My two older sisters have been planning this dinner for several months now, so if you like Turkish food, you’re in for a treat tonight.”
After we all agreed we loved Turkish food, Kamila gave us a rundown on her siblings and their families.
As I heard her talking about her family, I found it hard to believe this was the same person who had been making plans with Barat Mustafa to have her father kidnapped by an agent of Turkish National Intelligence.
But then, when she returned to the topic of the PLP and asked me what I thought about one of the PLP leaders being arrested for planting a roadside bomb near President Evren’s motorcade, I realized Ben was right about Kamila.
Apparently, she had become so obsessed with the atrocities being committed by the PLP, she was willing to have her father forcibly returned to Turkey so he could disavow any involvement with the group.
It was almost as if someone had brainwashed her into believing she would be doing her father a favor if she helped President Evren’s Turkish intelligence agents put the Imam on a plane and take him back to Istanbul.
I said, “My Turkish sources tell me there was no evidence the PLP was responsible for planting the bomb, but perhaps you have different contacts than I do.”
Kamila looked out the passenger side window and didn’t answer me for a few seconds. Finally, she turned toward the back seat and nodded. “I’m sure that’s true. Even though I haven’t been back to Turkey since I was nine years old, I’ve made an effort to stay in touch with my fellow countrymen.”
“You have friends in Turkey?”
“Oh, yes. Friends and acquaintances. Whenever anyone from my homeland has reached out to me, I’ve always responded to them. Consequently, I’m in contact with people from all sides of the political spectrum.”
“Are you saying you’ve been in contact with—”
Before I had a chance to finish my question, Kamila cut me off and pointed to the sign on Springvale Road that indicated Camp Tamal was just ahead. “This is where we’re going. I grew up at Camp Tamal and lived there until I went away to college. It was a Muslim youth camp before it was given to my father for his own personal use.”
Jennifer asked Kamila what it was like growing up on the campgrounds, and as she was answering her question, I reached up and pressed the icon on my glasses to activate the WAV device. A few minutes later, I saw Jennifer touching the back of the pendant on her necklace, so I figured her device had been activated as well.
As Ben slowed down to make the left-hand turn from Falls Point Drive into the gated entrance of the Imam’s residence on Sunset Lane, he glanced up at me in his rearview mirror and nodded.
All cameras were rolling. It was showtime at Camp Tamal.
Chapter Twenty
The guardhouse at the entrance to camp Tamal was a concrete structure with windows across the front and back and sliding wooden doors on each side.
There were two men inside, and when one of them got up from a high-back stool to slide open the door, I was curious to see if it was Yusef Kaynar, the NTI cell member we saw in the video at our briefing handing the guard a set of papers.
It wasn’t Kaynar.
This guy was much older.
I was able to see the backside of the other man inside. He was sitting on a stool watching a television game show, and I decided he was much too overweight to be Yusef Kaynar.
As Ben put the SUV in park and rolled down the window, Kamila waved at the guard. “Hi, Garo,” she said. “These are some friends of mine I’ve invited to the party tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Hanim. I’ll still have to see their IDs.”
“Oh, sure, I understand.”
We passed Garo our driver’s licenses, and as we waited while he compared our names against a list on his computer, I thought Kamila seemed a little nervous.
Once Garo gave us back our licenses, Kamila said, “Garo, I’m sorry you have to work tonight and can’t be at the celebration. I hope you’ll at least be able to view the fireworks.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’m looking forward to it.”
This was the first I’d heard of any fireworks.
I suspected everyone listening to Kamila’s conversation by means of our WAV devices, whether they were in the Bureau’s safe house on Old Post Road or in the Agency’s Ops Center back at Langley, were as surprised to hear about the fireworks as I was.
Like me, they were probably trying to figure out if Kamila’s conversation had some hidden meaning to it.
When Garo hit the button to open the gate, Ben didn’t immediately put the car in gear. I figured he was doing what I was doing—waiting for Kamila to have a final word with Garo, a final word that would reveal what kind of vehicle or by what means the members of the NTI cell would attempt to get into the compound, a final word that would give Frank’s SWAT team members sufficient intel to prevent the terrorists from getting into the compound.
When the security gate swung open, Kamila leaned across Ben and said to the guard, “Garo, would you make sure Derin keeps the dogs in their pens tonight? I’m afraid the fireworks might frighten them.”
“Oh, sure, Ms. Hanim. I’ll take care of it.”
That was it.
That was all Kamila said to the guard.
Once Kamila made her statement about the dogs, she leaned back in her seat. I admit I was stunned when I realized she had nothing else to say to Garo.
Ben must have felt the same way because he didn’t immediately move forward or roll up his car window.
After a few seconds, Kamila looked over at him.
“What’s wrong, Ben? The gate’s open.”
“Oh, yeah, right.”
Ben put the car in gear, moved past the gate, and made a right-hand turn onto Sunset Lane. After we’d gone about three hundred yards, I felt my phone vibrate.
It was Carlton.
He had sent me a text message.
As I read it, I saw Jennifer open her purse and remove her phone, so I assumed Carlton had sent us all the same message.
The text said, “No news. Be mindful of household staff, unusual guests, unknown factors. Communicate as needed.”
Even though Kamila hadn’t given us a clue as to what to expect the rest of the evening, my handle
r sounded as calm as he always did.
As I interpreted his text, neither the Agency nor the Bureau had come up with any new intel about the NTI cell, and since Kamila hadn’t given the guard any instructions about letting someone enter the compound, we needed to keep our eye on the household staff or any unusual guests at the party.
Unknown factors.
I wasn’t sure how to interpret that part of the message.
Wasn’t everything we discussed at the briefing an unknown factor?
Except, we hadn’t discussed the fireworks.
The fireworks were new—an unknown factor.
Was that what Carlton was talking about?
Although Ben hadn’t seen the text from Carlton, less than a minute after we left the guardhouse, he asked Kamila about the fireworks.
“I didn’t know you were planning to have fireworks for your mother’s birthday,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll love that.”
“I hope so. Since my sisters volunteered to be in charge of the food, I volunteered to make arrangements for the entertainment. I thought it might be fun to have our own fireworks display.”
Jennifer said, “Ben told us we weren’t supposed to bring your mother a birthday present. I hope he got that right.”
Kamila nodded. “You’re my invited guests. My mother would be offended if you brought her a gift. Ben got that right.” She gave Ben’s shoulder a squeeze. “I suppose that means you do listen to me.”
“Always,” he said, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips.
From her back row seat in the SUV, Jennifer couldn’t miss seeing Ben’s affectionate gesture. Even so, other than clenching and unclenching her fists, I thought she handled it well.
A few seconds later, Kamila glanced over at Jennifer. “How long have you and Titus been dating?”
Jennifer turned and gave me a loving gaze. “About a year now. Since we live in different countries, we don’t get to see each other that often, but when we do, we try to make up for it.”
