On the Heels of Evil

by D. E. Daum

  “I’m at the hospital, in Jane’s room.”

  “How is she?”

  “Jane is Jane. She’s ready to get out of here and go after the terrorists.”

  “That’s probably not a bad idea. We need all the help we can get.” Kelly was getting a signal that a call was incoming. He said. “Love, I have another call coming in. I’ll call you later.”

  “Saleem here.”

  “Saleem, this is Hayden. I don’t know what to tell you. Our boys insist they never heard any mention of a bomb. There was a terrorist operation planned, but it did not involve a bomb. Both Khan and Safar, under separate interviews, say the plan was for the eight of them to go into the casino at 8:00 P.M. on Memorial Day, guns a-blazing.”

  “That jives with what was in the van. They had about two thousand rounds and five dozen grenades. Seems like overkill if they were going to set off a nuclear bomb. How come only eight? There were ten in their party.”

  “Apparently, Hamadi and Ali were the organizers. They were there to make sure the others performed their end of the operation. They were a couple of real sweethearts. Obviously, they thought they were too valuable to go on a suicide mission. Funny thing is, they died before anyone else. I think I’ll get a few people up here, each with a Geiger counter and blanket the hotel.

  “Good idea, Chief. Got to go.”

  Kelly signed off as their vehicle pulled up behind a Long Beach city patrol car. Their bomb expert, who had not said a thing so far, was asleep on the far back seat. Kelly let him be, while Reynolds and Haman got out, met up with Santani and his partner and together introduced themselves to the uniformed patrolmen.

  Kelly asked, “Did you ring the bell or try the door? They nodded. “Did you check with any of the neighbors?”

  “Yes, we tried the neighbor on each side,” said Officer Dirks. “Nobody is home in Apt. 111, but in 113 we talked to a Marissa Sanchez. She knows and likes the suspect. She told us he’s been gone about five days or so. She figured he was staying with his girlfriend.”

  “Did you ask her if she knows where the girlfriend lives?”

  “No, we didn’t. Do you want us to?”

  “Yes, and while you’re at it, interview everyone on the bottom floor. My men will take the top floor. Reynolds, you go with Nick and his partner. Haman doesn’t speak enough English, so he’ll stay with me. I guess I’ll have to break in the door.”

  Officer Dirks put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder and when he had his attention, shook his head, raised a key to eye level, and said. “I got it from the manager.”

  Once inside, the apartment was hot and dark. Kelly turned on a light. He and Haman fanned out to see what wonders were there to discover. The apartment was neat as a pin. Kelly took the kitchen, and Haman took the master bedroom. Kelly found a brochure for the New York, New York Hotel in a drawer, but that was old news. He went through the garbage, which was under the kitchen sink and contained nothing of interest. He went into the living room, which had a couch, chair, end and coffee tables—all Danish Modern—a TV, VCR, a bookshelf stereo, and a collection of about fifty CDs. The collection contained a half dozen hip-hop CDs, some alternative rock, a few jazz discs, some big band albums, and surprisingly, some progressive rock and country CDs.

  Kelly then proceeded to examine the videos, which were mostly pre-recorded classics, like Ben Hur and The African Queen. What stood out, though, was a home recorded DVD, entitled, “The Right Hand of Allah.” Kelly figured it contained a recording of his speech, but stuck it in the player just to make sure. It was his speech, which meant he didn’t want to be seen by Colin Rhamati. Flipping the DVD player off, he continued to search and between the CD and DVD cases, sat a couple of framed photos of a lovely black girl. Kelly pulled the pictures out of the frames. On the back of one was an inscription—With Love, Samantha. He put the pictures in his pocket.

  There was a bookshelf near the front door and Kelly checked out what Colin most likely read. There were some classics mixed in with novels. He then wandered into the second bedroom, which Colin apparently utilized as a home office. Ah, a computer. Kelly wasn’t in Jimmy’s class, but he knew his way around cyberspace. Kelly started to boot up the computer when Haman walked in and said, “Thought you needed to see this.” He handed Kelly a brochure for a self-storage center. Kelly looked it over and discovered that it was located in Las Vegas. He drew out his satellite phone.

  “Hayden, Saleem here. Haman found something very interesting in Rhamati’s apartment. It’s a brochure for a storage complex in Las Vegas. It’s called Eazi Stor, spelled E-A-Z-I S-T-O-R and it’s located at 1877 W. Industrial Rd. Handwritten on the back is what appears to be a unit number—C126.”

  Crenshaw, both excited and anxious said, “Fantastic, I’ll jump right on it.”

  “Not so fast, Hayden. I want you to ask Jimmy or Sally to do their thing on the computer for me. I need everything that they can dig up on Rhamati’s apparent girlfriend, Samantha. She’s African-American, looks to be about twenty years old. I know that’s not much to go on, but it’s all I’ve got right now. I’ll fax her picture when I get a chance.”

  “Is there anything else? I want to jump on this storage thing ASAP.”

  “That’s all. Keep me informed.”

  Kelly sat down at the computer and started looking around. He was surprised by how little he was able to find out. The e-mails were innocuous, as were the bookmarks. There were several reports in the word processing section, but they seemed to be for school. Kelly decided Colin was a student, at least part time. This man is too normal. He doesn’t act or think like a terrorist. A serial killer can maintain an air of normalcy, but a terrorist can’t. There’s too much rage. A terrorist’s abode would be loaded with extremist propaganda, paraphernalia, posters, and books. He needs to surround himself with such things to sustain the rage.

  Haman returned holding a thin book and said, “Something else.” He tossed it to Kelly. It was a diary.

  “We don’t have time to read this now. Let’s round up the others and find a motel nearby!”

  Chapter 11

  After Kelly and the others registered at the Best Western Motel, Kelly reflected upon what they had learned. Nick Santani and his partner had struck out. With the exception of a redneck in Room 226, who didn’t care much for blacks or Arabs or for people of color in general, all they found out was Colin was courteous, unassuming, quiet, and helpful, all requisites for sainthood.

  Dirks and his partner fared a little better. Three doors down, they found another Muslim, who knew Colin fairly well. The man’s name was Salema Toos, and he originated from Indonesia. He attended the same mosque until he became disgusted by the radical tilt of the clergy in the last year. Salema set up a prayer room in his spare bedroom, and everyone was welcome there. Colin sometimes prayed there. He noticed that Colin had been gone a week but didn’t think anything of it, because Colin told him he was going to Michigan.

  Marissa Sanchez had no idea where Colin’s girlfriend lived. She thought it might be near, because Colin met her in a nearby bookstore where she worked. She thought her name was Sandra Palmer…

  Kelly woke up to the shrill ring of his satellite phone. He glanced at his watch. Nine–thirty. The countdown continues. “Saleem here.”

  Hayden was apparently flustered and frustrated. “Saleem, I’m stymied. Things are getting worse instead of better. More complicated too!”

  Having barely woken, Kelly tried to gather his thoughts. “Tell me about it, Hayden.”

  “We opened the storage unit. The elusive nuke was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the storage unit was filled with dozens of empty crates of armaments. Saleem, we’re talking about some heavy ordinance here, everything from AK47s to RPGs. There were even three empty crates for armor piercing .50 calibers. What the fuck is going on?”

  Kelly’s mind was buzzing. “The good thing is, you can stop worrying about a nuclear explosion in Vegas. The bomb was likely never delivered there. That’s why Kh
an and Safar didn’t know about it. Now, for the bad things. My guess is that Las Vegas is about to sustain a major terrorist event. If I’m reading this right, you probably have multiple terrorist cells assigned to create carnage and havoc in many if not all of the various major hotels there. However, that’s nothing.”

  Crenshaw interrupted, “Nothing? What do you mean? An assault like that could kill hundreds if not thousands.”

  Kelly continued. “Think, Hayden. If the bomb never made it to Las Vegas, where is it?”

  “Oh my God, It’s in L.A.”

  “And Memorial Day is in fifty hours. LA is a lot bigger and harder to evacuate. Shall I go on?”

  Book VII

  Countdown

  Chapter 1

  Los Angeles, California

  For a minute, Kelly thought Hayden had hung up, then he heard a commotion over the phone. He heard someone yelling, “Call 911.” A new voice on the phone said, “Is anyone there?”

  Thank God. It’s Jimmy. “Yeah it’s me, Saleem. What happened?”

  “I think the Chief is having a heart attack. Sally and George are attending to him. Medics are on the way. What did you say to him?”

  The news he had delivered to Hayden could push a normal healthy man over the edge. “I simply explained the situation in unmasked terms.”

  “Saleem, What do we do now? No one is in charge. Crenshaw is down, Dickens and Starbird are in the hospital. You’re in California. We’re leaderless.”

  “Is Fawler back yet?”

  “Yes, I believe he’s in his room.”

  “Tell him he’s temporarily in charge. I’ll call the hospital to see if Starbird can take over.”

  After he hung up from Jimmy, he dialed his wife. “Mariam, this is Saleem. Things are unraveling fast. Where are you?”

  “Oh, my husband, I was so worried about you. Where are you and when are you coming back?”

  It’s so good to hear Mariam’s voice. “In good time, my dear. Are you in our hotel room?”

  “Yes, I’m in our room. I just barely returned from visiting Jane.”

  “Mariam, that’s why I called. We are in a crisis. Do you think Jane is well enough to return to work?”

  “I don’t know, Saleem. She seems much better, but it’s only been a day since our ordeal.”

  He wished he could be with her. Instead, he enumerated the calamitous events of the last twenty-four hours. Is that all it was, twenty-four hours? Seems like a week. “Mariam, we have no one—in a time of national crisis—no one to take command. Jane is our only hope.”

  Mariam was properly concerned and sympathetic but firm. “My husband, Jane is our friend. You cannot ask this of her. What about this person, Fawler? Cannot he take over until you finish this atomic bomb incident? Then you can take command.”

  “There must be someone capable of making the big decisions. For example, we should start evacuating Los Angeles, because the bomb is set to go off in forty-nine hours.”

  Mariam was unmoved. “Saleem, do not underestimate your resolve. You are more than capable of making that decision, though I see no reason for it.”

  Kelly was incredulous. “What do you mean? There are twelve million people in the path of nuclear annihilation. Why don’t we need to evacuate them?”

  “My husband, you are a wise man with excellent judgment, but I think you may be too close to see what is obvious from a distance. Did those wicked men, Hamadi and Ali, need eight additional men to bring an atomic bomb here, when one could accomplish the task? No, it was never their plan. Why would the nefarious ones come to Las Vegas, when they were not going to participate in the chaotic attacks? To watch? Possibly, but what is more likely, is to get out of the path of nuclear annihilation. Now, where is this nuclear device? My love did you ever check with the transport company to make sure the maleficent ones did indeed pick it up? I would not b –”

  Bingo! She’s right and I’m a dummy. Kelly interrupted, “Mariam, you are an incredible woman. I have to go.”

  Chapter 2

  As soon as he hung up from Mariam, Kelly called the transport company and inquired if his cargo had arrived. The man checked his log and then the computer. Finally, he said. “Yes, Mr. Rhamsy. We still have your cargo. You were supposed to pick it up a week ago. In fact, I sent you an e-mail two days ago, reminding you to pick it up. The day the cargo arrived, someone claiming to be you tried to pick it up, but he lacked proper ID. You do have ID, don’t you?”

  Kelly was so excited he could barely speak. “Ah, yes, sure. I have it right here. What do you require? Driver’s license, credit cards, passport?” Mariam was right. My wonderful Mariam has found the bomb. Kelly thought. “Can I ask you a question? My shipment is a commercial gas range. Do you know if that will fit in a Suburban, or will I have to rent a panel truck?”

  “I think it will, but if it won’t, there’s a truck rental place at the end of the pier. They’re not open at night, though. It sounds like you intend to come and get it now.”

  “Yes, I need it. Are you open all night?” asked Kelly.

  “We are, but I get off at midnight, which is a couple minutes away. Karim works the graveyard shift.”

  I don’t like this. Chances are Karim is a good person, but he’s an Arab and I’m not going to take a chance, when I’m this close. He said, “Tell you what. What did you say your name was?”

  “Burt.”

  “Tell you what Burt, You want to make an easy grand?”

  “A grand? What’s the catch?”

  “Nothing. I want to deal with you. It’s ten minutes until you get off, and it’ll take me around thirty minutes to get there. Wait there, load me up, and you’ve got the easiest thousand buckaroos you ever made.”

  “It’s your money. Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting.”

  * * * *

  Reynolds drove and Kelly talked. Mariam was right about the bomb, so she might be right about me taking charge. Kelly called the National Security Advisor, though it was almost 4:00 A.M. in Washington, and briefed him on the events. He explained the tight time line. He felt it would take too long to send someone to replace Crenshaw, and suggested himself as the best person to take charge. The NSA was impressed with what Kelly and his crew had accomplished so far and acceded to Kelly’s suggestion. Kelly indicated that he was formulating a plan to confront the terrorists and would be requisitioning some heavy backup. He wanted to make sure the NSA was on the same page and would back him.

  After his talk with the NSA, Kelly called Fawler, who had assumed local authority. Kelly, who was still formulating his plan, ran it by Fawler, who had some damned good ideas himself. Kelly asked Fawler to start implementing the plan. If he met any resistance, he was to refer them to the National Security Advisor. When Kelly hung up, he felt good about Fawler. He was smart and businesslike. Now if he could just get Jane back in action, he would be extremely confident.

  * * * *

  Getting the bomb was one thing, disarming it was another. After having the bomb disarmed one time, whoever rearmed it made sure no one disarmed it again. Bill Chase, the bomb expert, seemed unsure of himself. He showed Kelly where numerous traps, double and triple wiring had been installed, which were disguised. One slip and it could possibly detonate. As a safety precaution, Kelly had the bomb flown to a remote area on the Nevada Atomic Test Site. They brought two more bomb experts in to confer with Chase on the best way to proceed. The bomb was now in a place where it would do little harm. Only a handful of government employees, coyotes, rattlesnakes, and scorpions were now in harm’s way, so Kelly and Haman hopped the plane back to Vegas where a major armed terrorist operation was anticipated in forty-two hours.

  Chapter 3

  Las Vegas

  It was good to be back at the Control Center. It made Kelly feel more in (surprise!) control. He checked with Fawler, who had not left the Control Center since he got back, almost thirty hours ago. He wouldn’t even leave to get something to eat. They compared notes, and Fawler updated K
elly on his manpower and armament requests. When he finished, Kelly went to see Jimmy.

  “Hi, Jimmy. Thanks for your help the last couple of days.”

  “There’s nothing to thank me for, sir. It’s my job!”

  Kelly patted his back. “Thanks anyway, for a job well done. Have you been monitoring the crazies’ websites?”

  Jimmy grinned. “You bet, sir. Lots of chatter. Nothing definitive yet, but we keep hoping.”

  “What we’re after is who and where. If you hear anything, let me know. If I’m not here, tell Fawler.”

  “You got it, sir.”