by Dee Davis
“Well, it can’t be a vote.” Ms. Giovanni shrugged, her posture making the gesture almost regal somehow. “We aren’t in session, and there are no delegates in town.”
“But you do have meetings?” Jillian pressed, her cheerful façade slipping a little due to Ms. Giovanni’s obvious lack of interest.
“Of course.” The woman shrugged again. “But none of them are happening today. In light of the elevated threat to the city, the secretary general suspended all business. Particularly any meetings that might put a visiting dignitary at risk. It’s standard protocol.”
“Are there people still in town who were planning on attending the meetings?” Simon asked.
“There are always dignitaries in the city,” she said, “and more often than not, they have some business with us. But we have excellent security and are hardly in need of help from the locals. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that we have things well in hand.”
“And I assure you that unless you want an international incident on your hands, you need to cooperate with us.” All signs of congeniality were gone. In fact, Jillian’s eyes were flashing with anger. “We are not locals, Ms. Giovanni. We are Homeland Security. And despite the fact that this is international soil, you are still within the borders of the United States, which gives me the right to require you to answer our questions.”
To the woman’s credit, she didn’t even blink, but Simon could feel a subtle shift in the tension stretching between the two women. Jillian had made her point.
“What is it you want from us?”
“We need a list of every high-level meeting that’s been canceled as well as any that may have been moved or rescheduled within the next few days. I’ll also need a list of those attending the meetings, their country of origin, and their position with the UN.”
“Is that all?” the woman asked.
“No,” Jillian replied, and Simon bit back a smile. In truth, he was enjoying the show. Ms. Giovanni had met her match. “We’ll also need detailed information on the purpose of each of those meetings.”
“Some of that is classified,” Ms. Giovanni protested. “This is an international organization, and as such, you can imagine that there are dealings here that would best be kept out of American hands.”
“Last I heard, America was the single largest contributor to your organization, 22 percent of your regular fund and 27 percent of the peacekeeping budget. Not to mention the land on which this building sits. I think that gives us the right to be concerned about the security of members who may be under threat while visiting New York. I don’t give a damn about state secrets, Ms. Giovanni. We just need to identify the potential target so that we can eliminate the threat.”
“Perhaps if you give us the intel you possess, we can take over the investigation.”
“Not going to happen,” Simon said, cutting the protest short. “But I do promise that we’ll keep you apprised of what we find out. As a matter of diplomacy.”
“So if we could have the list, please,” Jillian said, her tone dropping back to conversational.
Ms. Giovanni typed something into her computer terminal and a printer against the far wall sprang to life. In less than a minute, she retrieved a stack of papers, holding them out to Jillian. “I’ll hold you to your promise to keep us in the loop, and I trust you’ll be sure that the list is disposed of in a secure fashion when you’ve finished.”
“I’ll shred it myself.” Jillian took the papers, and after shaking hands again, they retreated, battle won.
“Well done,” Simon said, as they walked into the elevator and Jillian pressed the button for the basement. “You were a warrior in there.”
“I hate women like that.” Jillian shrugged, a perfect imitation of Ms. Giovanni, and Simon laughed.
“You really are magnificent.” He watched as she ducked her head, but he could see her smile. “So where are we going?”
“We passed an empty office on the way in. In the public section near the coffee shop.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to get ourselves back on U.S. soil?”
“I’d prefer it, quite honestly, but we can’t afford to waste any more time. And just in case Ms. Giovanni is trying to keep something from us, I want to be here where we still have access.”
The elevator doors slid open, and they walked out into the lobby, past the coffee kiosk, to a door leading to a small, clearly unused office. There was a desk and two chairs, but nothing else of consequence.
“It might be easier to just have Harrison hack into their computers.”
“Talk about starting an international incident,” she said as they walked inside, shutting the door behind them.
“Not possible. Harrison is way too good to be caught. But I’m pretty sure Avery would frown on the idea. So we’ll try your way first.”
After they sat down, Jillian pulled out her iPad, opened the FaceTime app, and then chose Harrison’s name from a list of contacts.
Simon shot her a quizzical look as she propped the tablet up so that they both could see the screen. “I thought we’d agreed that we weren’t going to call upon Harrison’s unique skill set.”
“I’m not asking him to hack anything, but he and Hannah are a heck of a lot faster looking things up than we are. I figure it’ll make the search to identify the target go more quickly.”
Thirty minutes later, they’d eliminated three-quarters of the list. Half because the meetings and the people involved weren’t high-profile enough to provide the impact that would make an attack worthwhile. And the other quarter because, once their meetings had been canceled, the people involved had left the country.
“This is going nowhere fast,” Simon said, frustration replacing the surge of adrenaline he’d felt after the meeting with Ms. Giovanni.
“We’ve still got a couple more to check out,” Jillian said. “It just takes one. And I know we’re on the right track.”
“Well, this one looks like a possibility.” Simon ran a finger beneath the listing. “A peacekeeping meeting concerning the genocide in the Sudan.”
“Yeah, but the principals aren’t even in the country,” Hannah said, her voice sounding tinny as it was projected over the tablet’s speakers. “It was originally scheduled as a video conference. And I can’t find any sign that it has been rescheduled.”
“The last one doesn’t look much better.” Harrison’s face swam into view as he moved in front of his computer’s camera. “It was meant to be a reception for a visiting dignitary, but it’s been canceled.”
“Which dignitary?” Simon asked.
“It doesn’t say here,” Jillian responded, a little line forming between her eyes as she studied the information. “You finding additional information there?”
“No,” Hannah said. “And it’s weird. I haven’t had any trouble accessing additional information about the other meetings.”
“How did you manage to get a password for the UN’s computers anyway?” Simon asked her.
“Friend of a friend. I’ve found it pays to get to know the techs at Langley. Anyway, I couldn’t have accessed anything if the files had been password protected. I’m just logged into the UN’s online information system. They track meetings there.”
“So why isn’t this one listed?” Jillian asked, clearly still perturbed.
“I don’t know, but I’d say it’s a red flag,” Simon said.
“Great.” Jillian sighed. “So now we have to go back to Ms. Giovanni.”
“Hang on,” Harrison said. “I think I just found her files.”
“Harrison, I told you no hacking.” Jillian looked over at Simon for support, but he just shrugged.
“Technically, I’m not hacking. I already had a way in, remember? I just sort of managed to sneak around a few proverbial closed doors.” They waited for a moment, the sound of Harrison’s keystrokes carrying across cyberspace. “Okay, I think I’ve got something. She’s got a file for the event. But it’s encrypted.”
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p; “I am so not explaining this to Avery if we get caught,” Jillian said, still looking to Simon. But he was enjoying the whole thing way too much to protest. And besides, he had a gut feeling they were about to find what they were looking for.
“I’m in,” Harrison said. “You should be able to see the file on your screen now, too.”
As promised, a document opened. Simon peered over Jillian’s shoulder, trying to ignore the tug at his groin as he inhaled her perfume.
“There must be a mistake.” Hannah was obviously reading from her end as well. “This isn’t a reception. It’s a summit.”
“And a hell of one at that,” Simon said with a low whistle. “I knew there’d been chatter about the Palestinians and the Israelis resuming peace talks, but I had no idea they’d actually been scheduled.”
“This isn’t just the Palestinians.” Jillian leaned forward, her face reflecting her surprise. “Several of the attendees listed are ranking members of Hamas.”
“So this is a big thing,” Hannah said. “But there’s no one named Yusuf. And aside from the obvious Jewish/Islamic connection, I’m not sure what the tie-in to Joseph would be.”
“Still, you’ve got to admit it’s a big fucking deal,” Simon said.
“Yeah, but it was canceled,” Hannah reminded him.
“Which puts us back to square one, I’m afraid.” Harrison sighed. “I’ll close the file so that your Ms. Giovanni won’t realize we’ve been in there.”
“No, wait a minute,” Jillian said. “I recognize one of the names. Bilaal Hamden.”
“I know it, too,” Harrison agreed, the sound of typing coming from the screen again. “I’m pretty sure he’s the son of a high-ranking member of Hamas.”
“I don’t see another Hamden on the list,” Simon said.
“He wouldn’t be there,” Harrison continued. “He’s an old-timer. Was a big player about ten or fifteen years ago. He’s got to be like seventy.”
“I remember the story now,” Jillian said. “The kid, Bilaal, was part of the Palestinian Resistance Movement. And he was killed in action. But then like six years later, it turned out that he hadn’t died at all. He’d been taken prisoner. And then there was one of those prisoner release things, and he was part of the trade.”
“Right.” Harrison nodded, his face back onscreen again. “And his father was totally stoked. It was like his son had risen from the dead.”
“And to top it off,” Jillian said, “if I’m remembering right, he made inroads with his captors and gained their respect. I think he saved an Israeli kid or something. That’s one of the reasons they let him go. It was big news at the time.”
“Which would, of course, make him a valuable asset for any attempt at peace talks. He’d be the ideal negotiator.” Simon felt anticipation rising.
“Anyone else seeing a similarity here to another lost son?” Jillian asked, excitement coloring her voice.
There was silence for a moment and then Hannah let out a whoop. “Joseph. Oh, my God, Bilaal is Yusuf.”
“It fits,” Jillian said. “And if you think about it, what better way to instigate an incident whose ramifications would certainly threaten the world as we know it. Bilaal is a hero among his people. And he’s respected by certain parties within Israel. But if he were killed in a meeting with Israelis taking place on U.S. soil, you can bet your bottom dollar the entire Arabic world would want retribution. And they’d look first to their sworn enemies. The Israelis—”
“—and us,” Harrison finished for her. “We’d be drawn right back into the heart of a war in the Middle East.”
“It’s Operation Yusuf,” Jillian continued. “It has to be. But if it’s going to work, they can’t just bomb the meeting or crash a plane into the building. They can only take out Bilaal. It has to be an assassination.”
“I think you’re right,” Hannah agreed. “And all the other stuff that’s happened was designed either to facilitate the strike or to keep us from figuring out what was really going on.”
“Well, they damn near succeeded there,” Simon said. “But no matter what they were planning, the meeting has been canceled. So the threat, if there was one, has been eliminated.”
“Except that it hasn’t,” Harrison asserted. “Look at the last page of the document. At the very bottom. There’s a date and an address. They didn’t cancel it. They moved it. And buried the details in the fine print. So much for standard operating procedures.”
“Well whatever the original intent, the meeting is happening today at three.” Jillian leaned closer to the screen, her expression grim.
“That’s in less than twenty minutes,” Simon said. “If they’re sticking to the original schedule, Bilaal is giving the opening statement.”
“Which means there’s no time.” Their eyes met across the table. “We need to let them know.”
“I’m trying to contact security at the summit,” Harrison replied, “but there’s no one answering. Looks like someone’s jamming signals. Unless they are trying to make a call, they won’t even realize the phones are down.”
“What do we know about the location?” Jillian asked, pushing to her feet, tablet in hand.
“The building is on the East River in Murray Hill,” Hannah said. “It’s mixed use, commercial and residential. The UN maintains a conference room there. And it looks like you were still right about the FDR. According to my information, the building straddles the highway just like the UN. You guys are only like ten blocks away. If you hurry, you can make it.”
CHAPTER 24
The Essex Arms had been built at the turn of the century, its graceful lines indicative of the financial wherewithal of the original tenants. But at the moment, Simon wasn’t interested in architecture.
The UN conference suite occupied both the third and fourth floors of the building. What had originally been two apartments had been combined to make the main conference room with a mezzanine built above it in the back to house the translation booths.
The suite was accessed by a private elevator. Entrance required a passcode, which Hannah had provided before they’d lost telephone contact, the lines still jammed. Simon and Jillian stood in it now, watching as the numbers slowly inched upward.
“We’re going to have to move quickly,” Simon said, checking his watch. “There won’t be a lot of time for explanations. We’ve got to size up the situation and identify the interloper before he has the chance to get off a shot.”
“My guess is he’ll be in the mezzanine. It’d provide the best angle for a shot.”
“I agree. According to the blueprint Hannah downloaded, access is up a set of stairs in the back of the room to the right. If necessary, we’ll split up. One of us will stay with Bilaal while the other heads for the mezzanine, hopefully cutting the shooter off. But with communications down, if we have to move fast, UN security isn’t going to know who we are.”
“Which means they could mistake us for hostiles.” Jillian nodded. “But I don’t see that we have any other choice.”
“Hopefully, we’ll have enough time to explain ourselves, but just in case, be ready. And follow my lead.” He drew his weapon as a bell dinged and the doors slid open.
They stepped out into a short hallway with a single door at the end.
“I’d have expected there to be security,” Jillian said, pulling the Glock from its holster.
“Despite what Ms. Giovanni said, security at the UN is notoriously lax even for something as delicate as this. And besides, according to public record, this meeting isn’t even happening.”
“Yes, but I’m thinking this is our missing link. Moving this meeting had to have been a result of the attacks on the city and the elevated terror alert. Maybe not a perfect example of standard operating procedures but probably a predictable one,” Jillian said as they moved to flank the door. “Which means that there had to have already been a plan in place to move the meeting here should something happen to compromise the security at the Secretariat.�
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“And if the Consortium has someone on the inside, they’d have known that.”
“So clearly there’s a reason why they wanted the meeting moved here. Easier access or maybe even less security.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to figure it out. You ready?”
She nodded, and on a silent count of three, Simon reached for the door and swung through it, weapon raised, Jillian following right behind. In front of them, just to the right of a set of double doors, a man in uniform jumped to his feet, eyes wide with surprise as he reached for his gun.
Jillian held up her credentials as Simon lifted a finger to his lips.
For a moment, he thought the guard was going to refuse to cooperate, but then he nodded, and both men lowered their guns.
“Has the meeting started?” Jillian asked, keeping her voice almost to a whisper.
The man nodded. “About two minutes ago.”
“And Bilaal Hamden? Is he in there?”
“Yes. I saw him myself.” The guard frowned, his eyes still on the gun in Simon’s hand. “What’s this all about?”
“We have reason to believe that someone inside is planning to kill Bilaal.”
“Impossible,” the man said. “The only way inside is past me. And everyone attending was cleared, first through the UN and then through me.” He waved a hand at a list on his desk.
“Then you’ve got a mole.” Jillian reached past him to pick up the list, scanning it quickly. “I can’t be sure, but I don’t see any names that weren’t in the original file.”
“Is your radio working?” Simon asked the guard.
“As far as I know.” He retrieved it, holding it out for Simon to see.
“Is there someone in there you know you can trust?” Simon continued.
Confusion and doubt washed across the man’s face.
“Look,” Simon cajoled, “I realize we’re asking you to take a leap of faith here, but if we’re wrong then there’s no harm done, but if we’re right, then you’ll be helping us save a life.”
