Sleeper Cell

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by Chris Culver


  Kamil Salib’s hand hovered over the aluminum alloy frame of his AR-15 rifle. It was loaded. The optics were dialed in. He had additional ammunition in a bag at his feet. Now he just had to wait.

  He had been awake for almost twenty-four hours straight, and he should have been exhausted. Instead, he felt more alive than he ever had in twenty years on Earth. His parents thought he was in his dorm at the University of Illinois. They thought he was two years from completing a degree in engineering that would land him a middle-class job and lifestyle. They wanted him to marry a good Muslim girl and have children.

  He would have done that gladly had he been born into a better world. That wasn’t the life he had ahead of him, though. His destiny was to become a soldier for God. His mentor, Hashim Bashear, had shown him that. Now, Kamil would make Hashim proud. Still, his stomach fluttered.

  “I’m nervous,” he said, looking to his friend, Daniel Hakim. The two men sat on a deer blind built into the crotch of an oak tree approximately twenty feet from the ground. The wooden structure had been painted black, making it difficult if not impossible to see against the night sky, while the foam insulation they sat on muffled the sound of their movements and blocked their infrared signature to anyone on the ground. They were as safe in the trees as a newborn babe would be in her mother’s arms.

  “There’s no need to be nervous,” said Daniel. “We have God on our side.”

  Daniel was right, of course. At twenty-five, he was five years Kamil’s senior and had years of experiences Daniel would likely never have. He was strong and confident. More than that, he had walked the straight path every day of his life. Kamil couldn’t have asked for a better mentor or friend.

  The plan this evening had come together hastily and took the combined efforts of five people to prepare. The actual execution came down to Kamil and Daniel, though. Kamil’s hands trembled with nerves, but he could knew he could do it. He had to.

  Lieutenant Ash Rashid had nearly derailed Butler al-Ghamdi’s mission that afternoon by showing up at Kim Peterson’s house unexpectedly. Had he been there five minutes earlier, Butler probably would have been dead. As it was, Butler succeeded and survived relatively unscathed, but Rashid almost ruined everything.

  They needed to deal with him and fast.

  Hashim Bashear had come up with the plan, and Hamza Bashear had worked out the details. Butler had suggested using himself as bait in order to lure the detective to a location at which Kalim and Daniel could ambush him, but Hashim said it wouldn’t work. The detective was too intelligent and cynical for that. He’d sniff out an ambush and come with such overwhelming force everyone would die.

  The plan Hashim had devised was subtle and precise. It took advantage of the detective’s nature and had levels he’d never see through.

  “Do you think Butler went through with it at the camp?” he asked.

  Daniel nodded without looking at him.

  “Butler is a soldier who has already proved himself. It will be your turn this evening. I’ll be with you. With God, no one can stand in our way.”

  Kamil nodded and drew in a breath. It had already been a day of firsts for him. He had stolen his first car—a Toyota Camry—and he had been involved in his first operation, but he had yet to fire a weapon except at paper targets. God willing, that would change tonight. Kamil didn’t know why they had to kill the people they did, but it wasn’t his place to know. He was just the weapon. God was the true marksman.

  Tonight, Ashraf Rashid would die, and nothing could stop that.

  Chapter 34

  By the time I reached the interstate, it was past the time my wife would be putting the kids to bed. I had barely talked to them all day. I needed my kids more than they knew. I chose to be a police officer because of them. I was a reasonably bright man. I had a law degree, and I had some money saved up. If I had really wanted to, I could have hung a shingle and become an attorney in private practice.

  That wasn’t my calling, though. I was a dad. If I had a purpose on Earth, that was it. Though I had originally joined the police force because I needed a job, I stayed because I wanted to make the world safer for my children—and for other children. Sometimes I succeeded, and sometimes I failed, but everything I did came back to them. I wished I had gotten to hear their voices today.

  I put the thought out of my head and focused on the drive. I didn’t have lights or a siren in the Mustang, but the roads were mostly empty except for long-haul truckers. The left lane was clear, and my car had a big V-8 engine. All in all, it meant I made pretty good time.

  About twenty miles from Indianapolis, I got a call from Agent Havelock. Since I didn’t like to talk while driving, I pulled off on the side of the road and turned on my emergency blinkers.

  “Havelock,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  “You want the good news or the bad news?”

  “What’s the good news?” I asked.

  “We found the warehouse and checked it out. Nobody got hurt.”

  I nodded. “Okay. That’s good news. What’s the bad?”

  “We didn’t find anybody. We found your suspect’s cell phone, but it looked as if he had dropped it.”

  I swore under my breath and then rubbed my eyes. “Okay. Any idea what they were doing in the warehouse?”

  “Yeah. They were making explosive devices. We found some snipped wires, a pair of soldering guns, and a few printed circuit boards. We didn’t find any explosive material, but our bomb-sniffing dog indicated that he smelled some.”

  I closed my eyes. “You told me earlier that you had signals intelligence that said something big was about to happen in Indianapolis. Could this be it?”

  “It might be part of it,” he said. “I’m bringing in a technical team to dust the place for prints and see what we can find. The warehouse next door has security cameras on its exterior, so I’ve already got agents trying to track down video. Might be able to find something there. This building is owned by a freight logistics company that went belly up, but this is a busy area. Somebody will have seen something. We’ll work the scene and see what turns up.”

  It sounded like a reasonable plan, but before I could say that, my phone started buzzing, indicating an incoming call. I glanced at the screen. It was Nassir. I told Havelock I’d call him back and then answered my brother-in-law.

  “Nassir,” I said. “You okay?”

  “Butler’s here.”

  I paused for a second, surprised.

  “He’s at your camp?”

  “Yes,” said Nassir. “He’s scared. He didn’t want to go with the other boys, but he didn’t think he had a choice.”

  That was one possibility. The other one—the one I found much more likely—was that he was in the middle of everything, and he was playing Nassir and his friends.

  “Okay,” I said, nodding. “Can you put him on the phone? I’d like to talk to him.”

  “Hold on,” said Nassir. I waited for a new voice to come on the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Butler, yeah. This is Lieutenant Ash Rashid of the Indianapolis Metro Police Department. I’m glad you called. Seems you’re in a little bit of trouble.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I fell in with a bad crowd and got in over my head.”

  It was a lot of clichés for one sentence, but I wasn’t there to critique his word choice.

  “I’m glad you realize that. How are we going to fix this?”

  The kid’s voice was shaky. “I know where the guns are.”

  “That’s a good start,” I said. “Are they being stored with any explosive devices?”

  “We never had explosives,” said Butler, quickly. “The guys aren’t into explosives. They took over a house. It’s halfway between Indianapolis and Terre Haute.”

  So much for the benefit of the doubt. This guy was a liar. Now I needed to give him some rope and let him hang himself.

  “What do you mean they took over a house?”
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  “They found it online and broke in,” he said. “It’s like a cabin. It’s for sale, so they knew nobody would be in it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Are they at the cabin right now?”

  “No,” he said. “They’re probably looking for me. If you go now, you’ll be able to get the guns and leave. You can arrest them when they come back. That’s what I’d do.”

  I nodded to myself. “You know these guys, so if that’s what you’d do, that’s what I’ll do. What’s the address?”

  As he said it, I pinned my phone between my shoulder and ear and wrote it down on a notebook I kept in my jacket pocket.

  “All right, Butler,” I said. “You sit tight at Nassir’s camp. I’ll check out the cabin and arrest your friends. They won’t bother you again.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant,” he said, his voice much lighter than it had been a moment earlier. “You’ve saved my life.”

  “I’m just glad you did the right thing. Stay with Nassir and take care of yourself. I’ll take care of this cabin.”

  He thanked me again before hanging up. Next, I called the Brown County Sheriff’s Department and asked them to pick Butler up and put him in custody. This little shit wasn’t going anywhere. Then I called Agent Havelock back.

  “So I just got a phone call from Butler al-Ghamdi, the owner of the cell phone found at your warehouse. He lied his ass off and denied having anything to do with explosives. He wants me to go to an abandoned house so I can arrest his partners before they hurt anyone.”

  Havelock paused for a second. “Sounds like an ambush.”

  “That was my assessment, too. Can you put a team together to ambush their ambush? The house is halfway between Indianapolis and Terre Haute, so you’re not too far from it.”

  “Yeah, we can do that,” said Havelock. “I’ve got eighteen tactical officers here, so I’ll send a small team to scout the location and put together a plan of assault. Where are you?”

  “South of the city, about forty-five minutes from the airport.”

  “Then get your car in gear,” he said. “By the time you get here, we should have some more information about what to do.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said, already looking over my shoulder so I could get back in traffic. I gave Havelock the address and then wished him luck before hanging up.

  The drive to the airport was uneventful. I found Havelock and his agents right where I expected them in the warehouse’s parking lot. Havelock and a second agent were huddled around a laptop on the hood of an SUV. I parked nearby and flashed my badge to the first agents to walk to my car. They nodded and directed me toward their boss. Havelock nodded a greeting to me and then looked to the man beside him.

  “Ash, this is Special Agent John Rose. John, this is Ash Rashid.”

  “Nice to meet you, Agent Rose,” I said, shaking his hand. I looked to Havelock. “Any news?”

  Havelock looked to Agent Rose.

  “My advance team has arrived at the location, but there’s no sign of your bad guys. The cabin’s empty.”

  So our ambushers stood us up. Reminded me of dating in high school.

  “Has your team been inside the house?” I asked.

  Rose shook his head. “Not yet. They’re deployed throughout the woods nearby, but they’re staying back. We’ve scanned the house with infrared scopes, but it’s totally empty. There’s a red pickup truck in the driveway, but it looks as if it’s been there for a while.”

  I thought for a few moments. Even if the bad guys weren’t at the cabin, they chose this particular spot. There may not have been anything there, but we needed to check it out anyway.

  “If the house is empty, we don’t need a tactical team,” said Havelock. “Ash and I can go in and check it out. The rest of the team can go back to Indianapolis.”

  Agent Rose drew in a deep breath and then nodded.

  “The cabin’s remote, so backup will be slow to get there in case of emergency. You okay with that?”

  “Our other option is to tie up an entire tactical team for a wild goose chase,” said Havelock. “If there’s an attack in the city, we’re going to need every tactical officer we can get. Lieutenant Rashid and I will be fine in the house. Keep your advance team in place. If we run into problems, we’ll have six armed officers on site.”

  “If that’s how you want to do it,” said Rose. “My team and I will head home.”

  “That’s what we’re doing,” said Havelock, turning to me. “And that means you’re driving, Ash.”

  That sounded fine with me. Before leaving, I thanked Agent Rose for his help and wished him luck in the city. He said the same to me. We all headed out at the same time, although we turned in opposite directions on the interstate. Havelock and I settled into an easy silence as we drove.

  Since we were already west of the city, the drive only took about half an hour. A black SUV awaited us on the side of the road as we neared the address. I parked, and an FBI agent wearing black tactical gear stepped out of the heavy vehicle. His name was Ken Hanson, and he was the advance team’s leader. I shook his hand. He had a firm, rough grip.

  “So what do we have?” I asked, looking around. At this time of night and this far from the city, the night felt oppressively dark. Last year’s leaves covered the forest floor, while this year’s leaves formed a canopy overhead that blocked out all but the barest hint of moonlight.

  “There’s been no movement since my team arrived,” said the agent, turning and pointing in a southerly direction. “There’s a ridgeline directly south of the house. I have a man stationed there with an infrared scope. He’s got clear sightlines into the house, but he’s not seen anyone inside. I’ve got a man to the east in a slight valley. He’s got sightlines to the house and the road, but nothing’s moved. And finally, I’ve got a man on a hill to the west of the house. No sign of movement there, either.

  “I can’t guarantee the house is safe, but there’s nobody in it, and it doesn’t look as if anybody’s been in it for quite a while.”

  Agent Hanson probably couldn’t see me, but I nodded and looked to Agent Havelock.

  “You want to drive or walk?” I asked.

  “Might as well drive,” he said. “If the house is empty, nobody’s going to shoot up the car.”

  I reached into my pocket for my keys. “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter 35

  Special Agent Scott Kaler had positioned himself on top of a ridgeline beside an old oak tree approximately half a mile from the house, giving himself a sweeping view of the valley below him. He thought about his five-year-old daughter. He loved that girl with everything he had. He loved her mom just as much. This was supposed to have been his night off, and he had the whole evening planned. First, they would go play miniature golf, and then they’d have dinner. Afterwards, they’d go home, Kayla would go to bed, and Scott and his wife would relax on the couch with a movie. There was a good chance he would have even gotten lucky.

  Now, he was stuck in the woods. Neither Kayla nor his wife had wanted him to leave, but they understood he had a job to do. Since he wouldn’t get the chance to tuck her into bed that night, he had sung her a song right before he left, and now he couldn’t get the damn thing out of his head.

  “Are you humming, Kaler?”

  It was Special Agent Santiago Muniz. Kaler swept his rifle’s infrared scope across the valley below him, searching for movement, before keying in his microphone.

  “Negative. That must have been Agent Havelock. Must have swiped a radio. I hear he’s into show tunes.”

  “He does have quite the spring to his step now that he’s sleeping with that lady from Homeland Security,” chimed in Agent Nicholson.

  “That’s enough, guys,” said Ken Hanson, the seniormost agent in the group. “We’re here to do a job, not gossip about the boss.”

  “Copy that,” said Muniz.

  “You hear anything about this detective we’re covering?” asked Nicholson. “I hear he’s a dick.�


  “I hear he’s killed more people than cancer,” said Muniz. “Guys from DC picked him up this afternoon. He has a file half an inch thick.”

  “That’s enough,” said Agent Hanson. “Both of you. I want this line silent except for mission-specific communication.”

  Kaler heard the conversation, but he didn’t pay attention. Instead, he drew in a slow, even breath and panned the rifle across the valley. As his gaze swept to the west, he saw a figure he hadn’t seen before. Kaler estimated him at about twelve hundred yards distant. The sniper pulled the microphone to his lips and centered the crosshairs of his scope on the man’s chest, already mentally calculating the figures he’d need to make the shot.

  “Hanson, we got anybody west-southwest of the house?”

  “Negative, Kaler. You see movement?”

  Kaler adjusted his scope for the distance and wind speed. “Affirmative, sir. I got a shot. You want me to light him up?”

  “Our rules of engagement are to shoot only if we’re shot at. We don’t want to shoot the neighbors if we don’t have to. Does he have a weapon?”

  Kaler watched for a moment.

  “I can’t tell from my position.”

  “Then get into a position in which you can tell,” said Hanson.

  “Affirmative,” said Kaler, reluctantly taking his eye from the scope. He pushed off from the ground but didn’t stand upright. Instead, he crouched as low as he could, trying to stay in the shadows as he eased himself closer to the man he had seen. About ten yards away, he found a tree that had fallen, giving him a decent place to set up again. When he scanned the surrounding woods, the figure he had seen was gone.

  “Hanson, my target is MIA. I can’t find him again.”

  “You sure he was there?” asked Muniz.

  “Yeah,” said Kaler. “What do you think, boss? Now seems like a pretty good time to call in air support to me.”

  He waited a moment, but Agent Hanson didn’t respond.

  “You read me, Ken?”

  Again, he waited, but again, no one responded.

  “Ken. I need you to say something,” he said. He paused for a five count. “Anybody in visual contact with Hanson?”

 

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