by Alex Ander
Hardy interjected. “Did you forget about the note, demanding the release of Anderson Cole in exchange for Abby’s life?”
Dahlia shook her head. “That doesn’t add up. Cole is a nothing when it comes to terrorists. Yes, he made headlines when he killed all those people in Minnesota. Up until then, however, he was a zero...nobody. I don’t think Yamadi wants Cole.” Dahlia put her hands on the front seat headrest, pulled herself closer and turned her body to the left to include Charity in the conversation. “I think this whole thing with Cole was a diversion. Cole wasn’t supposed to talk. He was in U.S. custody, lawyered up and not saying anything. Yamadi was betting on a combination of our politicians not wanting to make hard choices, and our lawyers abiding by our judicial system to buy him the time to carry out his real plan. He never anticipated you transferring Cole to another country, interrogating him and getting Yamadi’s name.”
“So, what’s his real plan?”
Cruz answered his question. “Yamadi wanted us, and the whole U.S. Government, focused on Anderson Cole and his possible role in the kidnapping, while Yamadi used his underground contacts to smuggle Abby out of the country.”
“Exactly,” said Dahlia, leaning back in her seat.
“Think about it, Hardy.” Cruz fixed her eyes on him. “Is there a better ace in the hole than a sitting President’s daughter? Yamadi could play that card multiple times, getting whatever he wanted from the United States. James Conklin may be the President, but he’s also a father. No father would be able to resist demands to keep his daughter safe.”
Hardy was mulling over everything the two women had been telling him. It made perfect sense. Frankly, it scared the hell out of him. If Yamadi succeeded in getting Abby to another country, the United States would have lost control. Right now, the situation had been contained within the country’s borders. All the federal agencies and state and local police could be deployed, along with the nation’s intelligence services, to search for Abigail. Once she was outside the country, however, that control would be greatly diminished, and the situation would go global. Abby could be smuggled into any country and never kept in one place for too long, keeping intelligence services always guessing. “We cannot allow Abby to leave American soil. How do we find Essam,” Hardy corrected himself, “Halim?”
Dahlia spun her head toward Charity. “That’s where Charity, and her facial recognition software, comes into play.”
Charity cocked her head and stared at Dahlia. “We don’t have a picture of Halim. I’ve already checked for everything on Essam, and there’s no picture of him. If you say the two are one in the same…” She let her voice trail off and held out her hands. “We still don’t have a picture to plug into my software.”
Dahlia grinned, held up her phone and twisted her wrist. “We do now.”
Chapter 28: Dots
Once Halim’s image had been uploaded from Dahlia’s phone into Charity’s facial recognition software, the two women switched to the task of plotting the known locations of Halim’s antique shops, scattered across the Western United States. Charity had downloaded to her laptop the flash drive Dahlia had given to Hardy. Without it, the mission would have rested on Dahlia’s memory. She would have had to recall the city for every antique shop Halim owned.
While Charity and Dahlia continued their work, Hardy and Special Agent Cruz checked and re-checked the gear stowed in three duffle bags in the back of the SUV. When Hardy had asked Jameson for the Hostage Rescue Team, he put in a request for weapons, tactical equipment and clothing for three operatives, too. Hardy was relieved when Jameson did not inquire about the third duffle bag, since he had not told his boss that Dahlia had joined them in Denver. Hardy was delaying the release of that piece of news for as long as possible. The original plan called for getting as much information from her as possible and moving on with the operation. She was not supposed to be involved in the mission beyond the intelligence-gathering phase. Jameson had pulled aside Hardy after the OR briefing and emphasized that fact. Hardy drove from his mind the thought of the upcoming meeting with Jameson. I’ll deal with him when this is all over and Abby is safe.
With nothing left to do, but wait for Charity to find something, Hardy placed a call to Director Burroughs. When he had discovered, from Agent O’Neill, that it was Secretary Gillespie who had initiated the assault, Hardy knew he owed Burroughs an apology for his behavior on the phone. Since there was some down time, he figured now was the perfect opportunity to pay the debt. To her credit, Burroughs was very professional. She accepted his apology and moved on without making an incident of the situation.
…………………………
An hour later, Charity’s search for Halim resulted in several hits. Getting everyone back in the SUV, she placed her laptop between her and Dahlia, facing Hardy and Cruz in the front seat. She brought up a map of the Southwestern United States, specifically, the states of California, Nevada, Utah and Arizona. Several dots were scattered around the area where California, Nevada and Arizona came together; a few outlying dots were to the northwest and southeast.
Charity pointed at the screen. “These are the locations where Halim has been spotted.”
Hardy interrupted her. “What’re the dates on these sightings?”
“They go as far back as two weeks ago.”
Hardy nodded.
“The red dots have a less than fifty percent match potential. The yellow dots are between fifty-one and seventy-five percent. Green dots have a greater than seventy-five percent chance.”
Hardy sliced his fingertips across his throat a couple times. “Let’s lose the red dots, Cherry.”
“I figured you’d say that.” She hit a key and the red dots disappeared. “Most of the remaining dots are centered to the east of Los Angeles.”
Cruz shifted in her seat to get a better view of the screen. “Cherry, what are the white ones?”
Charity flicked her eyes toward Dahlia. “Dahlia helped me locate Halim’s antique shops. I plotted them on the map.”
“It seems the two closest shops to the sightings of Halim are in LA and Las Vegas.” Hardy eyed Dahlia and Charity. “Is that right?”
“That’s right.” Dahlia motioned toward the screen. “The next closest ones are in Reno and Tucson.”
“Can you take away all of the dots that are older than forty-eight hours?” Charity complied with his request and he studied the map. “Did you get any matches of ninety-percent or better?”
Charity nodded and tapped a couple keys before leaning back. Only a half dozen colored circles remained on the screen—four green and two yellow. “I’ve already examined this combination and the geographical center is only a few miles east of LA. Coincidentally, the three most recent hits are in this grouping.”
Dahlia crossed her arms over her chest and touched her fingertips to her pursed lips. “The LA shop is the most logical choice. We take the jet and we’ll be there in less than two hours.” Her eyes went back and forth from Cruz to Charity.
Cruz nodded. “It’s the best move.” She turned her attention toward Hardy.
Charity affirmed Dahlia and Cruz’s assessment.
Dahlia pressed him. “What do you say, Hardy? Are we going or not?”
Hardy stared at the map, thinking.
After almost a full minute of silence, Dahlia glanced out her window before whipping her head back toward Hardy. “Hardy, we’ve got actionable intel on Halim’s whereabouts, and potentially the President’s daughter, too. What’s the play?”
Not looking away from the screen, he answered her. “We go to LA.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, speaking from behind his hand. “I don’t want to let the shop in Las Vegas go, however, in case LA doesn’t pan out. Vegas is just too close not to check it out.” He dragged his hand down his face and held up his index finger. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.” He opened his door and started to get out of the SUV. He stopped, when he heard Cruz.
Cruz grabbed her phone.
“I’ll call Jameson and tell him what we’re doing.”
Hardy leaned in and touched her arm, stopping her. “Don’t make that call.”
“Why? What’s up?”
“I’ll tell you when I get back.” Hardy jogged to the second SUV and talked to the HR Team leader. He brought the man up to speed on their discovery and gave him orders to go to Las Vegas and prepare a raid on Halim’s antique shop. The HR Team was to conduct surveillance. The actual raid would take place on Hardy’s orders. The FBI’s Hostage Rescue Teams were some of the best-trained operators in America’s arsenal of counter-terrorism units, rescuing hostages held by criminals and/or terrorists. If Abby was in Las Vegas and not Los Angeles, he trusted the HR Team would do everything in its power to see to her rescue and safety.
Hardy slammed shut the SUV’s door and produced his cell phone.
“So, why aren’t we calling this in to Jameson?”
Hardy rolled his eyes toward Cruz. “You’ll find out in a minute.” A moment later, he put the phone to his mouth, when he heard the upbeat voice of the President’s secretary. The terrible events of the last twenty-four hours had to be wearing on her; however, she was a professional, not letting her emotions take control of her attitude. “Courtney, it’s Hardy. Can you put me through to the President?”
“I’m afraid he’s in a briefing at the moment with a few of his directors. I can let him know you called when he—”
“It can’t wait, Courtney.” Hardy waited and listened. He could sense she did not want to interrupt the President. Hardy urged her to go beyond the protocol. “You’ve met Abigail numerous times, right?”
“Of course, I have.”
“Believe me, when I tell you that what I have for the President is a matter of life and death. I need to speak with him, Courtney.” Hardy heard her short shallow breaths coming through the speaker.
Courtney glanced at the door to the Oval Office, while tapping her pen on the desk. Seconds later, she dropped the pen. “Aw, screw it.” Uncrossing her legs under the desk, she stood. Realizing her thoughts had been audible, she backtracked. “Oops, I’m sorry about that.” She sighed. “It’s been a tough day. Hold on.”
Hardy chuckled. She was a professional, but even professionals had their limits. He appreciated the brief glimpse into the personal side of her character. “Thank you, Courtney. I owe you one.”
She let out a short laugh. “If I had a nickel…” She pressed a button on her phone before setting the handset in the cradle. She went to the door to the Oval Office. Knocking, she took a deep breath and entered the room. All eyes immediately went to her. The Secretary of Homeland Security stopped speaking. She slid her body around the open door and walked toward the President.
The President acknowledged her. “What is it, Courtney?”
“Sir, I have Agent Hardy on the phone. He says it’s urgent. He needs to speak with you.”
The President did not hesitate. “Put him through.”
“I already did, sir. He’ll be there when you pick up the phone.”
The President put his hand on the phone, but did not pick it up. “Thank you, Courtney.” He waited for her to leave the room before he raised the handset. “Agent Hardy, this is the President.”
“Thank you for taking my call, sir. I wouldn’t have asked Courtney to interrupt you, if it wasn’t important.”
“I understand. What is it?”
“Is Director Jameson with you?”
The President flicked his eyes toward Jameson. “Yes, he is.”
“The information I have is for you and Director Jameson only, sir. Can you ask the others in the room to step out?”
The President considered Hardy’s request to be unorthodox. Considering everything that’s happened, it’s probably par for the course. He covered the phone with his other hand. “Will you excuse me, gentlemen, while I take this call?” Everyone stood and headed toward the door. “Not you, Director Jameson.” He beckoned the man to return. When only the two men were left in the room, the President put Hardy on speakerphone. “Go ahead, Agent Hardy. I’ve cleared the room. Only Director Jameson is with me. You’re on speakerphone.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. I’ll get right to the point. I’ve got credible intelligence on where the kidnappers might be holding Abigail.”
Oh, thank God, thought the President. “That’s great.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Give me the location and I’ll get my people on it immediately.”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”
Chapter 29: Muck It Up
The President sat erect in his chair. “Could you repeat that, Agent Hardy? I thought I heard you say, no.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. President. After what happened in Denver, I’m not giving any other agency the opportunity to screw this up.”
“Are you referring to Homeland raiding the antique shop?” The President was aware of the situation. He had been given an update from Secretary Gillespie.
“I am, sir. My people secured the intel for that location, only to have Gillespie charge in like some cowboy and muck it up. I thank God Abby was not there. Homeland’s actions were unprofessional and dangerous. She could have been killed.”
“Agent Hardy, are you aware that your refusal to give me this information puts your career with the federal government at stake, not to mention a possible court-marshal?”
“Sir, as soon as Abby is safe and sound, I’ll turn myself in and you can start the official proceedings for my court-marshal. Until then, I won’t trust your daughter’s life to anyone else, but me and my team.”
The President was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, he would have excoriated anyone who disobeyed him; however, he was picking up an underlying tone in Hardy’s voice. The tone was more like that of a father, or an older brother, who was genuinely concerned for the welfare of his child or sister. In all of the President’s interactions with his closest staff, he noticed they acted like Abby were another case or mission, needing to be solved or completed. Jameson’s outburst disturbed the President’s thoughts.
“Damn it, Hardy, you’re out of line.” He got closer to the phone. “Your Commander-in-Chief has given you a direct order. Give up the location, now.”
“I’d be more than happy to…on one condition.”
“Now, you’re bargaining with the President. You’ve crossed a line, Hardy, that I don’t think you can come back from.”
Not looking away from the phone, the President held up his hand toward Jameson. “What’s the condition?”
“Mr. President, I want your word this information stays with the two of you. And, I want you to give me the necessary latitude to find and bring Abby home. She’s not just a faceless name in a file folder to me, sir. I think of her as a friend, a friend I would give my life to protect. In this case, that means getting her home to you and the First Lady.” Hardy waited, but no reply came. He played his last card. “Let me make it clear, Mr. President. I’m doing this my way, with or without your blessing. Of course, it would be much better to have it, sir.”
Jameson came further forward in his chair and opened his mouth to speak, incensed at Hardy’s outright disrespect for the President’s authority.
The President stopped him with a wave of his hand. “Agent Hardy, you have my blessing. You have proven on several occasions that you put your country, and those close to you, above everything else. I apologize for not seeing that sooner.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Jameson’s jaw fell open. He stared at the President, not believing what he was hearing. He leaned closer to his boss and spoke quietly. “Are you sure about this, sir? You’re putting a lot of faith in one man.”
“He’s not just a man, Phil. He’s a man who thinks of my daughter as one of his own. In my book, that makes him family.”
“There’s just one more thing, Mr. President.” Hardy’s voice had changed, giving away his feelings of uncertainty.
“What is it?”
Hardy hesitated before answering. “One member of my team is not technically authorized to be involved in this mission. Her name is Dahlia St. James and—”
Leaping out of his chair, Jameson cut off Hardy in mid-sentence. “Hardy, you were only to get information from her, not make her a part of your team. This is unacceptable. You have no idea where her loyalties lie. She’s not even an agent of the United States Government.”
“We both know that’s not entirely true,” snapped Hardy.
The President turned his head toward Jameson. “Who is this—”
Hardy did not hear the President. “Her assistance on this mission has been crucial to us getting this far. She’s called on her contacts and gotten us information on Yamadi’s whereabouts and possibly Abby’s location as well. Without her, we’d be stuck on trying to find Yamadi. As to her loyalties, Director, I’m the one working with her and I’ll vouch for her allegiances, too. Something you would know yourself had you made a little extra effort in the past to reach out to her.”
Jameson’s face was red, his pulse was beating faster, and the room felt as if it had gotten warmer. Had Hardy been in the room and said that to him, Jameson would have punched him. You have no idea what I did to try to find my daughter, he thought. Jameson decided to keep the conversation professional. He pointed at the phone. “Hardy, I’m ordering you—”
Raising his voice, the President got the attention of both his subordinates. “Will someone tell me who the hell this Dahlia woman is?”
Jameson backed down. Getting control of his emotions, he answered in a subdued tone of voice. “Sir, the woman in question is Dahlia St. James. Her real name is Dahlia Jameson, my daughter. She was an FBI agent at one time, but now she’s—”
The President held up his hand and shook his head a couple of times. “Wait a minute. You have a daughter, Phil. And, she’s an FBI agent. Why haven’t you told me about this?”
