I wasn’t going to let that happen.
It was indeed Shahid.
His left eye was completely swollen shut and his face was contorted in either rage or pain. It was hard to tell the difference. However, he had no weapon in his hand. He wore his weapon around his waist.
It was a suicide belt packed with explosives.
The moment he saw me, he raised the detonator in his hand and shouted, “Allah Akbar.”
I immediately turned and sprinted out the front door, throwing myself down the porch just seconds before the bomb went off.
I was disoriented and confused for what seemed like a long time. Finally, the fog lifted, and I saw Danny and an FBI agent hovering over my face.
I assured them I was okay.
As reality set in, I realized the whole area was swarming with FBI agents. Some were in blue windbreakers. Others were decked out in SWAT gear. I also heard the distinctive thump, thump, thump of a helicopter overhead. Ambulances arrived and medical personnel started setting up a triage area near the old barn.
When I refused medical attention, Danny took a set of car keys from one of the agents and motioned me inside a maroon Crown Vic sedan.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking me over.
“Positive.”
“Good. We’re getting out of here.”
He made a tight U-turn across the front lawn of the farmhouse and drove a quarter mile down a driveway to a gravel road where he turned left.
Just like Shahid, he skidded as he hit the loose rock.
“What’s the hurry?” I asked.
“Trust me. We needed to leave.”
“I trust you, but why the hurry?”
“After Nikki told me Shahid had kidnapped you, I called—”
“Whoa,” I said, interrupting him. “I’ve changed my mind. Tell me what happened to Nikki.”
“All I know is Shahid shot her a couple of times,” he said, “but she was able to contact the dispatcher and make it back to her car. That’s when she called me on her cell phone. She said the two of you had found Shahid, and that he’d taken you hostage. Her speech was pretty garbled, but I got the gist of it. She was giving me the Chevy’s license plate number when she stopped talking. I think she must have passed out.”
“The plates wouldn’t have mattered because Shahid switched them almost immediately.”
He nodded. “A couple of federal agents were debriefing Bashir when I got Nikki’s phone call. The story I gave them was that Shahid had been located, and had taken a hostage. The hostage was my …” he paused and made quotation marks with his hands, “undercover agent.”
“So now I’m an undercover agent?”
“Makes a good story, don’t you think? Anyway, as you saw, the FBI called in a lot of firepower to go after Shahid, but that’s also the reason I had to get you out of there as quickly as possible. I didn’t want them questioning you too closely.”
He quickly glanced over at me and added, “I’m sure you’d agree an FBI interrogation would not have been good for your career.”
“You’re right about that.” I punched him on the shoulder. “Thanks for everything, Danny.”
With a big grin on his face, he replied, “Just watching your back as always.”
“Yeah, right.”
He turned serious. “Immediately after Nikki called me, we started tracking you on your cell phone.”
“Did Nikki give you my iPhone number? I’ve always called you on my Agency phone.”
“I got it off your business card,” he said. Then he started laughing. “Remember? The one you shoved in my face trying to impress me with your promotion to Senior Fellow?”
I ignored his loud cackling and said, “When Shahid was on the phone, his responses made it sound as if a superior was ordering him to that ranch. Shahid even called it a camp. I’m betting that location is some type of staging area for recruits before they’re deployed elsewhere. Shahid might have even trained there himself.”
“With the stockpile of weapons we found in that barn, I’m sure you’re right. We also found more suicide vests. Speaking of which, why do you think Shahid blew himself up like that?”
I thought about his question for a moment.
“At the end of the conversation I overheard, he mentioned something about making a sacrifice. He said it had to be done. Maybe it had to do with his failure in Norman. At any rate, I believe what I heard was his agreeing to take on a suicide mission, probably wearing the belt to a crowded stadium or mall. But when he got to the ranch and knew the place had been discovered, he just decided to take out as many law enforcement personnel as possible.”
“How were you able to find Shahid in the first place?”
I told him about Katherine’s research on Paul Franklin. Then I explained how I’d made the connection between the photographs of Shahid’s roommates that he had shown me at Twigs’ Diner and the Arab students outside of Franklin’s office.
Danny shook his head. “With his diplomatic background, do you really believe Paul Franklin is involved with bringing terrorists into the country?”
“I couldn’t say for sure, but the death of his wife had a tremendous effect on him. If he hates America like he hates Israel, I’m sure he’s more than willing to help Hezbollah get a foothold here.”
“So what went wrong at the house on Surrey? How was Shahid able to take you hostage?”
I decided not to tell him about Nikki showing up in the alley unexpectedly, because I was afraid he might think her late arrival played a role in what went down there. I certainly had no intention of letting him blame her for my mistakes.
“I believe Shahid had lookouts in the neighborhood or had seen me at the front of his house earlier, or maybe he’d just driven into the garage before Nikki and I arrived. In any event, he must have been hiding on the other side of the fence, and, when I went around the side of the garage to look through the window, he slipped around behind Nikki and disarmed her. He was going to take her with him, but I convinced him to take me instead.”
“That must have been a hard sell.”
“I told him I held a high position in the government, and he could hold me for ransom.”
“And he believed you?”
“I can be a convincing guy.”
“Or he was just gullible.”
“At least we’re speaking of him in the past tense.”
“So how did Nikki get shot?”
The moment I started explaining how Shahid turned his back on her, Danny got a call on his cell phone. He listened a moment and then hung up.
“That was the hospital,” he said. “I asked them to call me as soon as they had any word on your detective.”
My stomach churned. “And?”
“She’s out of surgery and in recovery.”
Danny took me back to the address on Surrey so I could pick up my Range Rover. The police had cordoned off the entire block, but he took my car keys and went to retrieve my car, while I waited in the Crown Vic.
While Danny was showing his credentials to the officer stationed outside the house, my attention was drawn to two men standing on the front porch. They were talking with Paul Franklin. Even from across the street, I could tell Franklin was distraught.
A few minutes later, Danny pulled up in my car.
After I took the keys from him, I pointed over toward the house. “See the white-haired guy with the Feds? That’s Paul Franklin.”
Danny observed him for a moment. “He seems pretty upset.”
“That may be, but—”
“I haven’t gone soft, Titus,” he said with a note of irritation in his voice. “His ties to Shahid and Hezbollah will be thoroughly investigated.”
I pressed him. “Don’t let his appearance fool you. His thoughts are lethal.”
“Leave Paul Franklin to me.” He shoved me in the direction of my Range Rover. “Go see Nikki. She’s in room 5601.”
I drove over to Norman Regional Hos
pital on Porter Avenue. However, before taking the elevator up to the fifth floor, I stopped in a restroom and scrubbed off the grime leftover from throwing my body in the dirt at the farmhouse. Although my shirt still looked filthy and my face had several cuts on it, I felt a little more civilized.
When I arrived on the fifth floor, I was surprised to see there was no security guard stationed outside Nikki’s door. Before that changed and I was put in the position of having to explain my presence, I quickly pushed opened the door and walked in.
The sight of Nikki, though, brought me to a complete stop.
She was hooked up to two machines. Both of them were putting out a steady rhythm of irritating beeps.
Her right shoulder was swathed in a white gauze wrapping, and her dark brown hair was covered in a blue hospital cap. The sound of her breathing seemed to indicate she was in a deep sleep.
However, as I took a seat beside her bed, her eyes fluttered a couple of times.
Seconds later, she opened them.
Giving me a weak smile, she said, “You’re … here.”
“In the flesh.”
She licked her lips in slow motion.
I held a paper cup with a straw in it up to her mouth and gave her a sip of water.
She stared at me with a glazed look.
“What … happened … to you?” she asked. There was a noticeable slur to her words.
“I don’t think you’d remember tomorrow if I told you everything right now, but it’s all good. Shahid is dead.”
She nodded her head slightly and closed her eyes again.
Suddenly, a large, African-American nurse appeared in the doorway. She looked surprised to see me.
“Sir, are you family?”
“Yes ma’am, I’m her uncle, Titus Ray.”
She nodded her head and gave me a big smile as she walked on in the room. “This young lady just came down from the recovery room, so the anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. You can sit with her, Mr. Ray, but she may not be able to talk to you for awhile.”
“I was told she had been shot.”
She nodded her head. “They had to remove two bullets, both of them from her right shoulder, but the surgery went well, and she’s going to be just fine.”
“She looks so pale.”
“Well, she lost a lot of blood before the ambulance brought her in. They transfused her in the operating room, so I’m sure you’ll see her color improving soon.”
The nurse walked over to Nikki’s bedside. “I’m about to take her vitals, but you’re welcome to stay if you like. The doctor just spoke to her police captain, and he’s going to station some officers outside her door very shortly.”
I got out of the chair, brushed Nikki’s cheek with my hand, and said, “I’d better go. I’ll see her tomorrow when she’s awake.”
As I turned to leave, Nikki opened her eyes slightly and whispered, “Bye, Uncle Titus.”
CHAPTER 31
When I called Nikki’s room the next morning, she sounded coherent and cheerful. However, when I mentioned I was coming up to the hospital to see her later in the day, she persuaded me to stay away until she was released.
“I have twenty-four hour protection right now,” she explained. “Danny wanted to keep you out of this investigation, so he gave my department some fairytale about Shahid discovering one of his Arab recruits was actually an OSBI undercover agent. He also told my captain I was shot while trying to stop Shahid from taking the agent hostage. When my captain heard this, he put a security detail around me in case one of the cell members decided to come after me.”
“He’s right to be cautious.”
“Danny told me what happened at the farmhouse. I can’t believe you weren’t killed.”
“If the FBI hadn’t showed up, I wouldn’t be here right now. Your phone call to Danny saved my life.”
She was quiet for several seconds.
Finally, she said, “I’m sorry I messed up yesterday.”
“How did you mess up?”
“I shouldn’t have been so wishy-washy about going with you to check out the garage. If we had coordinated our plans, it might have turned out differently.”
“I completely understood your reluctance to get involved. You felt a responsibility to follow departmental rules.”
“Yes, but I was already breaking the rules by allowing you to help me with the investigation. I think if I had been willing to follow your instincts in the first place, we could have done a better job of making a plan before I simply charged in there.”
“I don’t agree with your assessment at all. You did what you had to do.”
I tried making her feel better by changing the subject. “Are you able to remember what happened?”
“I’m still a little hazy about events after I was shot, but I remember everything before that happened,” she replied. “When you were looking inside the garage, I was standing with my back to the privacy fence, covering you in case anyone came out of the house. Then, all of a sudden, Shahid came up behind me and put a knife to my throat. He told me to drop my gun, and that’s when you came around the corner of the garage.”
“He must have seen me when I was parked across the street from the house. He probably slipped outside to watch the house from the neighbor’s yard. I had a strong sense something was going on inside the house when I parked there, and I shouldn’t have just ignored my feelings. I should have waited.”
“Those duffel bags inside his trunk made it look as if he were getting ready to leave. If you hadn’t acted when you did, he could have gone to Denton, strapped on that suicide belt, and killed hundreds of people. If that had happened, think how you’d feel today.”
“I’m just sorry I put you in a situation where you got shot.”
“We got the person who murdered Farah Karimi. That’s the important thing.”
I thought of Bashir Karimi and wondered if Shahid’s death had brought him any measure of comfort.
I said, “I saw you go for you gun when I was getting inside the trunk. What happened after Shahid shut the trunk lid on me?”
“He fired two shots at me before I could get a shot off at him, and then he took cover inside the garage. When he pulled the car out, I tried hitting his tires, but I was a lousy shot, and, in my own defense, I was feeling pretty weak by then anyway.”
“Danny said you made it back to your car.”
“My car was parked on the street at the end of the alleyway. I remember telling myself I had to get to my car so I could follow you, but how I made it back there is still a little unclear. I don’t remember talking to Danny at all. I’ve tried to bring up the details, but they just won’t materialize.”
“Yesterday, your nurse told me you’re going to be fine.”
“That’s what the doctor said this morning. He may even release me tomorrow.”
“That soon?”
She laughed. “It surprised me too.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been praying for you.”
“You have? That’s not something I’m used to hearing.”
“Well, it’s not something I’m used to saying either.”
“Once I get out of here, you’ll have to make good on that promise to tell me more about yourself.”
“When you get home, I’ll bring you over a pot of my famous chili and let you interrogate me.”
It was good to hear her laugh again.
The moment I got off the phone with Nikki, I called Paul Franklin’s office to reschedule my meeting with him. His secretary said she would have to call me back later because Professor Franklin was taking some time off to deal with some personal issues.
I suspected those issues included having a chat with Homeland Security.
It had been forty-eight hours since I’d heard anything from Carlton about the search for Ahmed, so I sat down at my computer to send him an email.
I worded my message very carefully.
I didn’t want it to sound as if I
thought he wasn’t doing his job—any operative making that mistake would never get another choice assignment. However, just as I was about to push the send button, my satphone rang.
It was Carlton.
His voice was loud and agitated. “What were you thinking?”
For one insane moment I thought he knew I was about to send him a nagging email.
“Sir?”
“I just viewed the satellite feed from a raid yesterday at a ranch near Denton, Texas where the FBI captured about a dozen Muslim extremists. Guess whose face I saw on that screen?”
“Yes, sir. I can explain that.”
“Did Danny Jarrar get you to go undercover for him?”
“Ah … no … not really. I didn’t—”
“If that’s a denial, then why did the OSBI undercover agent look exactly like you? Do you want to get fired? Is that what this is all about?”
“No, sir, not at all.”
“Good,” he said, pausing for several long seconds, “because we’ve confirmed it was definitely Ahmed Al-Amin who shot Simon Wassermann.”
Confirmed—I liked the sound of that.
However, I refrained from any I-told-you-so remark.
Carlton continued, “I managed to convince Deputy Ira to let you go after him.”
I was stunned by this news.
In fact, as my mind absorbed his statement, the part of my brain responsible for forming words and coherent thoughts simply stopped functioning altogether.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, I heard you,” I said, finding my voice at last, “and I definitely want the assignment. Does this mean I’ve been taken off medical leave?”
“In a manner of speaking. You need to wrap things up there, and check in here at Langley on Monday morning.”
“What made the Deputy change his mind about me?”
“He owed me a favor, and I cashed it in. Let’s leave it at that.”
“And Ahmed? Where is he?”
“I’ll brief you when you get here on Monday morning.”
I thanked him for the opportunity to bring Wassermann’s killer to justice, and he acted as if my gratitude wasn’t necessary. However, I knew he expected me to acknowledge what he’d done for me.
One Night in Tehran: A Titus Ray Thriller Page 25
