Traitors Within

by James Rosone

  The sound of a police radio interrupted his glazed-over pool of thought. “1071. Shots fired! Shots fired! Two armed men are shooting at the triage center we just set up near Willis Tower. Suspects are armed with AR-15s and are continuing to shoot at officers and rescue workers. They are running down South Wacker Drive, away from Willis Tower. Officers down! Repeat, officers down! Send additional ambos immediately!”

  The mayor listened intently to the updates. After a few moments, one of the officers reported, “They’re hiding behind an armored truck. We have them surrounded now. Our team is about to move in.” Suddenly, the audio was interrupted by an incredible BOOM!

  “What was that, Officer?” yelled one of the police captains into the radio. No response. They tried a few other signals. After a frantic couple of moments, the captain turned to the mayor and said, “Sir, it’s no use. None of the men are responding.”

  The mayor turned to his police chief and shouted, “George, what in the blazes is going on?”

  George Monroe, the newly appointed police chief, had been talking on his cell phone when the mayor yelled at him. He put up his left index finger as if to say, “Just one moment.” When he finished a few brief words with the person on the other end, he hung up the phone and turned to speak to the now exasperated mayor.

  “Sir, I apologize, but I was just talking with one of my captains who was near the Willis Tower. He told me that it appears a large vehicle bomb has gone off.”

  “Lord help us,” gasped the mayor.

  “From his immediate observations, it didn’t look like there was any significant structural damage to the building that might cause it to collapse, but there are a lot of injured people. Most of the buildings around the area have had their windows blown out as well.”

  The mayor just stood there, dumbfounded by what was happening to his city. How could this have happened? he grumbled to himself. He immediately wondered what group could be behind such a terrorist attack.

  As the mayor stood there like a statue, pondering what was happening to his city, Chief Monroe was trying to gather as much information as possible on how this had happened, who was responsible, and if there were any additional threats they should be worried about.

  Police Captain Eddie Jordan walked up to the chief and said, “Sir, I just received a flash message from the FBI. They believe there may be a third bomb that’s about to go off.” His voice sounded remarkably calm amongst all the chaos.

  *******

  Captain Eddie Jordan was an old-school cop. He believed in developing a network of informants throughout the city. He was highly regarded in the CPD circles, and just prior to the old chief being relieved of his duties for going against the mayor’s refugee policies, Captain Jordan had been placed in charge of a new CPD intelligence unit. His group was charged to go after gangs and narcotics, but over time, as the mayor turned the city into a sanctuary city and began to accept tens of thousands of refugees a month, he had quietly formed a smaller unit inside his, to specifically infiltrate this community and keep a watchful eye out for any Islamic extremists.

  Captain Jordan continued, “The FBI also sent us a passport photo of who they believe the Metra bomber was.” He linked his tablet with the large monitor in the room and brought the photo and passport information up.

  The mayor was the first to notice the entry date. “This Fahd al Saud just arrived three days ago. Did this notification from the FBI come with any intelligence on who he met while he was here?”

  “Not yet, but now that we know what the bomber looks like, we may be able to go through some of our CCTV cameras and see if we can spot him,” Chief Monroe replied. He didn’t sound very optimistic about their chances.

  Captain Jordan interjected, “I’ve told the officers in my unit to drop everything they’re working on and to focus on this new information. We’ll start scanning through the CCTV cameras and try to determine who he may have met with while he was in Chicago. He had to have had help, and my team will figure out who those individuals are.”

  The chief nodded his head. “Thank you, Captain Jordan. I want you to get your team to start working on who those two attackers near the Willis Tower were as well. Once the on-scene commander collects their biometrics and sends them to the FBI and CPD, you should have access to them, too.”

  After talking with a few other officers outside the command center, Captain Jordan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his smartphone. He placed a quick call to his intelligence group’s operation center. He needed to get more information quickly. When a female voice answered the phone, Jordan jumped right into the conversation.

  “Officer Yates, have we found anything out about the two attackers at the Willis Tower? And has the FBI sent us any additional information?”

  Yates responded, “Yes, Captain, we did find something. We just got their biometrics back from the FBI. Apparently, one of the attackers was a Dallas Police SWAT member, and the other was a part of the recent refugee program. The FBI said they have confirmed through biometric data that the SWAT member was John Osborn and the second attacker was Zameer Mandi.”

  Captain Jordan shook his head in disbelief at the realization that a police officer had been part of this dastardly attack. “That’s good news that we were at least able to identify the attackers so quickly, but I can’t get over the fact that one of them was a cop.”

  He paused for a second as he formulated his next course of action. “Yates, does the FBI have any additional information? Do they believe this was an attack by some Islamic extremist group? Has anyone claimed responsibility?” Jordan asked. He knew the mayor and the chief would be waiting on that information.

  She responded, “The FBI says it appears John Osborn had converted to Islam many years ago, and he had recently traveled to Saudi Arabia. The FBI tells me that they’re going to be making a public statement shortly about the attacks, but they do believe this to be a terrorist attack committed by an Islamic extremist group. Right now, they’re trying to narrow down which group.”

  Captain Jordan now had the information he needed. “Thank you for the quick work on this. By chance, has anyone reviewed the CCTV footage from Union Station to see if this Fahd al Saud had previously staked the place out before he blew himself up, or if he was accompanied there?”

  “Actually, Jorge just finished looking over the footage, and he said they saw Fahd there yesterday afternoon with another man. They walked around Union Station and the nine-eleven platform, stopping briefly at what we believe was the point where the bomb went off.

  “Before you ask,” she continued, “we don’t know who the second man was yet, but our camera got a good look at him, so we’re confident we’ll find something. We sent the image over to the FBI and Interpol. I’ll call you back as soon as we find something.”

  Letting out a sigh, Captain Jordan responded, “Officer Yates, I can’t thank you and Jorge enough for your hard work on this. You guys are clearly putting together a lot of information very quickly. Let me know as soon as you have some noteworthy updates.” He didn’t say goodbye but just hung up the phone. He knew Yates wouldn’t take it personally; they were all too busy for formalities at this point.

  As he terminated the call, he looked up to see several FBI agents walk into the mobile command center, walking toward the mayor and Chief Monroe. He immediately walked toward them so that he could hear what they were saying.

  Captain Jordan didn’t have time to relay any of the information he’d just learned before the FBI agents started talking. The newcomers were already making introductions.

  “I’m Special Agent in Charge John Deeks, the agent in charge of the Chicago field office. We have some information we would like to share with you so that we can bring you up to speed.” He gestured toward the table and chairs in the center of the expandable trailer, indicating they should all sit down.

  As everyone took their seats, SAC Deeks proceeded to show them what they had discovered up to this moment. “As you
may know, we’ve been coordinating with Captain Jordan’s group,” he said, nodding toward him, “and have identified the two attackers at the Willis Tower. The first of the two attackers at the Willis Tower was Zameer Mandi. He came to the US as a refugee and settled in Chicago about two years ago. By all accounts, Zameer had kept to himself and stayed out of trouble, so we had no reason to suspect he was a part of anything nefarious.”

  Captain Jordan felt a bit irritated that he hadn’t been the one to break the news, but interrupting would have made him seem petty, so he kept his mouth closed.

  “The other attacker was named John Osborn. He was a Dallas Police officer and member of their SWAT team. What we know about Officer Osborn is that he converted to Islam about five years ago, but we don’t believe he was radicalized until the death of his wife. After she was murdered in that Dallas mosque attack a few years ago, he made a lengthy trip to Saudi Arabia, which is where we believe he came to hold extremist views.” As SAC Deeks spoke, one of his fellow agents showed several pictures of Officer Osborn and Zameer on the screen in the room.

  Agent Deeks continued, “We believe you’re already aware that we’ve identified the first attacker that blew up the Metra station.”

  Everyone nodded. Deeks went on, “His name is Fahd al Saud. He was a Saudi national who had just arrived in Chicago from Riyadh three days ago. We aren’t sure who he met or what kind of support he received, but we’re fairly certain that he was a part of an ISIS terrorist cell operating here in Chicago.”

  The mayor interrupted to ask, “How do you know this is an ISIS cell and not some other terrorist organization?”

  “Just prior to the Metra bombing, an ISIS spokesman broadcast a message on several jihadi websites, saying that they were about to carry out the first of a series of terrorist attacks against the city of Chicago today. Within five minutes of his posting, the Metra bombing happened. Then the Willis Tower bombing. We believe a third bomb is likely to go off today, and we’re actively working to determine where and when it may happen, but as of right now, we have no leads.”

  Everyone in the room looked nervous, almost panicked as they waited for the other shoe to drop.

  A third bomb…please, God, not another bomb, Captain Jordan silently prayed.

  Chapter 16

  Lower Wacker Drive

  Mohammed listened studiously to the radio. His heart leapt when he heard the breaking news about the Metra bombing as he continued his drive into the city. About thirty minutes later, he heard an announcement about two men who were shooting rescue workers near the Willis Tower. Then a few minutes later, the broadcaster sounded exasperated as he announced that another massive bomb had gone off near the Willis Tower. There was no official tally of casualties, but so far, the death toll was expected to be in the hundreds, if not the thousands.

  Mohammed continued to drive on Lower Wacker Drive, though the traffic was starting to get worse. He was concerned that he might not make it to his designated target on time. He still needed to turn on North Wabash, and judging by the traffic in front of him, it was going to be a little while before he got there. He reasoned that people must be trying to flee the city. Mohammed had driven this route at least a dozen times with the same truck, timing everything, but he couldn’t account for the reaction to the previous attacks. As he approached the stoplight, the excitement Mohammed felt continued to grow. If things went well, his eighteen-wheeler just might cause one or more buildings to collapse.

  Four months ago, Mohammed had been trained on how to drive a specialized tractor-trailer carrying liquid natural gas. He began to drive this trailer regularly, so he would become comfortable operating it. The unique trailer system held a capacity of up to 641,080 cubic feet of LNG. Essentially, the truck had been turned into a forty-ton mobile bomb that was now being driven into the heart of Chicago.

  As Mohammed sat at the stoplight on Lower Wacker Drive and North Wabash, he began to sweat profusely. He was nearly to his target. His heart raced, and he felt as if his body was going to explode. To calm himself, he began to say prayers to Allah and recite various parts of the Quran. Finally, his truck moved between the Trump International Hotel & Towers and the Langham Hotel under Wabash Avenue. He reached down and grabbed the detonator. He held it tight in his hand as he moved his thumb over the red button on top. Then he slowly depressed the button until his world flashed and immediately evaporated with him.

  His LNG bomb exploded between both towers, near the base of their foundations. The concussion from the blast was so powerful that it blew the road above him completely apart, sending dozens of vehicles that had been sitting in morning rush-hour traffic high into the air. The foundation of Langham Hotel was so compromised from the explosion that the whole building began to tilt to the east toward Trump Tower, until the upper floors of the hotel snapped from their own weight, falling toward the street below and striking Trump Tower. The foundation of Trump Tower had also suffered immense structural damage from the blast. The structure began to tilt to the west, causing nearly the entire glass face of three of the four sides of the building to explode and shatter, showering thousands of pedestrians with glass shards.

  Mohammed had avenged his father’s death and brought the ISIS fight to the streets of America. His name would be remembered long after his death as the man who had killed hundreds of Americans in a single day.

  *******

  Back at the police command center, the group continued their discussion, trying to seek out any leads on where another bomb might explode. One of the officers turned away from the bank of computer screens he was monitoring, face white as a ghost. He cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Mayor, we just received reports of a third bombing. The report says the explosion detonated on Lower Wacker Drive, between the Trump International Hotel and the Langham Hotel.” The officer’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.

  Everyone in the group looked at each other dumbfounded, not sure what to say or do next. SAC Deeks immediately grabbed his smartphone and tried to call one of his officers at the Trump International Hotel. On a hunch, he had sent an agent to the Trump Tower because it was the second-tallest building in the city. He had figured if the terrorists were going to attack another skyscraper, this would probably be the one.

  It took a couple of rings before he got through, during which an entire lifetime seemed to pass by. When Agent Rodriguez picked up the phone, Deeks was clearly relieved. “Thank God I got you. Can you tell me what happened? What’s your assessment of the damage?” The TV news crews hadn’t moved any cameramen to the area yet, so they couldn’t rely on the news for any footage.

  Agent Deeks hit the speakerphone button on his smartphone and placed it on the table as the group gathered around. “Sir, you were right to send me to Trump Tower,” began Agent Rodriguez. “It was clearly the next target. What I’m seeing, it’s just unbelievable. We were in the process of evacuating the hotel, when suddenly, this enormous explosion happened. The glass façade of the building shattered, and suddenly it was raining glass down on everyone we had just told to evacuate. Then we heard a loud grumbling and the building started to shift. I’m standing across the street from the Trump Hotel right now, and it appears the hotel is leaning but still intact. The other hotel across the street on Wabash is nearly destroyed. Part of the top half of that hotel broke off and fell into the Trump hotel and the crater below, where the explosion apparently happened. It’s horrible, Sir. What do you want us to do now?” Agent Rodriguez’s voice was shaky, as if you could hear his knees knocking through his words.

  “Just continue to help evacuate people away from the blast area to safety. Keep your phone close, and I’ll give you a call in a little while to check in,” SAC Deeks said before he ended the call.

  The mayor put his head in his hands for a moment, dumbfounded. When he looked up, there was a fire in his eyes. “SAC Deeks, I just can’t believe this. Is it over, or are you expecting more attacks?”

  Deeks sat down, devastated at wha
t was happening. “Frankly, Sir, we aren’t sure. What intelligence we do have said there would be three attacks today.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. There had better be some scalps for me by the end of the day,” grunted the mayor.

  “Yes, Sir. I think we all want that,” responded SAC Deeks. Then he turned to the group and announced, “You heard the man…let’s get on that.”

  Chapter 17

  Scapegoat

  McClean, Virginia

  National Counterterrorism Center

  Director Mallory Harper was furious. The terrorist attacks in Chicago were all over the news. The images of bloodied and torn bodies of men, women, and children lying dead in the streets were horrifying. Chicago looked like a war zone. Then the FBI released the names of the attackers and, sure enough, two of the four terrorists involved were refugees who had been vetted and cleared through her department. Now the White House was all over her about how this could have happened. She needed information, and she needed a scapegoat.

  As she walked into the room, she barked, “Mr. Stone!”

  At the sound of her voice, Mike felt like ice was running down his back. “Yes?” he answered cautiously, looking up from the conversation he had been having with some of the analysts in the bullpen.

  “What information do we have on these two individuals? Who completed their vetting?” Mallory was furious that two of the people her department had vetted had just perpetrated the largest terrorist attack in American history.

  Mike walked toward her and guided them away from the other analysts. In a quieter tone, he said, “Director Harper, just so you know, I’m also irate that another major terrorist attack happened on our watch. I’m still trying to track down who completed the vetting for the two individuals who were approved by our department two years ago. I do need a few more minutes, but I’ll have more information for you shortly.”