Monster

by Bernard L. DeLeo

  She recorded everything, stopping each time the Syrian hesitated or paused. Reskova would at that time take Al-Ashri back over the ground they had just covered at least three times until she was satisfied with his answers. McDaniels clarified the more language intensive questions in Arabic. The Syrian explained reluctantly his cell only received specific directions and expenses for each mission, large or small.

  Reskova saw McDaniels glance uneasily at Rasheed when Al-Ashri mentioned a future mission involving a school in Washington D.C. The Syrian told them the airliner incident had been a dry run to attract attention back to airline safety and misdirect resources. Al-Ashri explained his man, McDaniels had killed, was never to have taken his belligerence to the point of altercation.

  “Did you know there were Air Marshal’s on board?” Reskova asked.

  “We could not be sure. Our objective was to attract attention and gather information. It was the first test in bringing aboard the wooden knives.”

  “But you were not to cause an incident?” Reskova asked with skepticism. “Your man seemed hell bent on launching a takeover. It seemed to us you had signaled your approval.”

  Al-Ashri started to speak, but then shook his head no. Reskova glanced at Rasheed, who bent down next to Al-Ashri.

  “Little lamb,” Rasheed whispered in Arabic next to Al-Ashri’s right ear, causing the Syrian to cringe away, startled at Rasheed’s nearness. “I am hearing the little pigs calling for your blood next door.”

  Al-Ashri rocked in his chair, pain and fear etched into his features. “We…we were to seize the plane if an opportunity arose,” the Syrian blurted out finally.

  “Then you did signal your man?” Reskova pressed, to confirm on tape what McDaniels had claimed.

  When Al-Ashri nodded, Rasheed nudged him.

  “Speak up,” Rasheed ordered.

  “Yes,” Al-Ashri said fearfully. “I signaled for the operation to begin.”

  “What would your objective have been?” Reskova asked. “The cockpit was sealed. What could you have done other than take control of the passenger area?”

  “In the second phase… we would have killed passengers to see if the pilot would open the cockpit door.”

  “And if they didn’t open the cockpit?”

  “We would have blown the hatch and thrown passengers out, one by one, after making them plead for their lives to the pilot.”

  “The Air Marshals would have stopped you.”

  “We were well trained. We… we knew your mindset on hostages. There were many of us. We would have grabbed many hostages.”

  “Some training,” Reskova muttered, anger getting the best of her. “Cold Mountain here ate your boys’ lunch. Hell, the stewardess in coach was a match for your men. I…”

  “Boss,” McDaniels interrupted gently, “better get on with the questions.”

  Reskova paused, with a visible struggle to control her anger.

  “Okay. What about this school operation you mentioned? Was your incident supposed to trigger it?”

  “I only know it would happen soon, whether we were successful or not,” Al-Ashri replied dejectedly. “Our failure may even speed up the school mission. We are in need of a victory to bring in money and new recruits to the cause.”

  “Massacring children is now a victory?” Rasheed suddenly screamed in Al-Ashri’s ear, yanking the Syrian’s head back by the hair. “Tell all you know quickly. I tire of you, oh brave little Terrorist.”

  “That is all,” Al-Ashri pleaded. “I swear to Allah… that… that… is all I know. Please… I…I… have told you the truth.”

  Rasheed looked at McDaniels. McDaniels shook his head in the negative and Rasheed released the Syrian with disgust.

  “We should feed this brave child killer to the pigs anyway.”

  “If we don’t get to work on this school deal, we’ll be too late to stop it, Major,” McDaniels replied. “We’ll come see our homeboy later if he left anything out.”

  “I agree,” Reskova added. “Let’s turn Al-Ashri and the rest over to Homeland Security. They’ll need to hold them incommunicado from each other as well as keep them separated from the outside world. Homeland Security can finish the interrogations using what this shit-head has given us. I’ll call Tom and Jen. They’ll need to meet us in Washington.”

  Chapter 11

  D.C. Cell

  Aginson sighed in disapproval. “You shattered his hand. Was that your idea of an introduction, Colonel?”

  “If you saw the video we took of the so-called intro, you already know it was self defense.” McDaniels ignored Reskova’s knowing leer directed his way. McDaniels, Reskova, and Rasheed sat down opposite Aginson and Dreyer at the table set up in a meeting room at the Los Angeles Police Department.

  “He could not have attacked you if left in the manacles he was transported in,” Dreyer pointed out.

  Reskova clamped her hands together and leaned forward. “No disrespect, Sir, but can we stop talking about the poor baby’s hand and go on to what we found out about the school massacre our interrogation turned up?”

  “We were hoping for you to be a calming influence when these two gentlemen get too creative, “Aginson replied. “It… ah… never mind… let’s focus…”

  “Let’s hash this out now. Since you feel this is so important, why not get it out in the open? If I’m running this team and we have to handle these perverted weasels, what can we do, offer them candy to cooperate? McDaniels and Rasheed did exactly what you brought them onto my team to do.”

  Aginson and Dreyer exchanged knowing glances.

  “Very well, Agent Reskova, you’ve made your point. We’ll deal with the fallout. There will not be any release of the Al Ashri interrogation. Syria has been put on notice there will be an immediate response if Al Ashri’s gang is linked to the Syrian government. Syrian officials, of course, are shocked that we would even think their government has ties to terrorists.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Your Detroit mission has been scrapped temporarily,” Aginson continued. “Proceed to your home office in D.C. and begin operations there. Are you convinced this is for real?”

  “Yes, I am,” Reskova answered. “We still feel you should try to gain confirmation with interrogations of Al Ashri’s gang.”

  “Count on it,” Aginson said, turning to Rasheed and McDaniels. “What about you two?”

  “I believe the threat to be real,” Rasheed answered after glancing at McDaniels. “Also, as to the methods we employed, I am merely a third world, backward soldier. We are of a culture unsympathetic to child murdering swine.”

  “Yes, you and the Colonel’s innovative interrogation tactic will receive much interest in the intelligence community I am sure. We cannot allow a Russian school type incident on American soil. Muslims would not be safe anywhere in America if such an attack happened.”

  Dreyer handed Reskova a manila envelope after Aginson finished speaking. “Here are your tickets to Washington. Have you contacted the rest of your team yet?”

  “I called them yesterday. They’ll meet us in Washington.”

  “I’m glad you anticipated our orders,” Aginson said wryly. “Your team will have free reign on any resources you might require. The Colonel’s credentials and the authority to appropriate anything you need is also in the envelope. Good luck, Diane, I think you have the right people for this operation.”

  “So do I. I will contact you after we get settled in.”

  “You have my private number. Don’t hesitate to call me.”

  “No Sir, I won’t.”

  * * *

  Reskova sat between Rasheed in the window seat and McDaniels sitting uncomfortably in the aisle seat. They had been in the air for over two hours.

  “Aginson should have bought us first class seats,” McDaniels complained, shifting his bulk more towards the aisle. He immediately pulled back as a stewardess hurried past, brushing against him.

  “You’re not going to whine t
he whole way, are you, Cold?” Reskova’s words prompted a laugh from Rasheed. “With the headlines you received the last two days, we’ll be lucky he didn’t send us back by bus. I couldn’t believe the fan base you’ve developed, right Kay?”

  “Oh yes, Boss,” Rasheed joined in gamely. “My brother, Cold - it was very exciting, autographs and everything.”

  “Thanks, Kay.” McDaniels settled in waiting for the needle.

  “Those kids asked for your autograph like you were Lebron James instead of a cold blooded killer,” Reskova added in a whisper only Rasheed and McDaniels could hear. “I’m glad you won’t be doing any undercover work.”

  “Thanks, Boss, it’s always nice to be appreciated.”

  “Will you be having your entourage meet us in D.C., Cold?” Reskova asked, grinning innocently at McDaniels.

  “You two are just jealous.”

  Reskova laughed. “Yeah, that’s it. Did you have to stand there signing for twenty minutes?”

  “What was I supposed to do? We were standing in the security line. It’s not like I had somewhere to go. Besides, I had to ride the wave.”

  “You’ve definitely achieved more than your fifteen minutes of fame ration, Mr. Mountain.” Reskova nudged Rasheed.

  “Yes, soon you will have your own tee-shirt line,” Rasheed took his cue. “It will…”

  “Don’t do it, Kay,” McDaniels warned.

  “It will say,” Rasheed ignored McDaniels, gesturing with his hands like a conductor of an orchestra, “Beware! on the front and The Cold Mountain on the back with your picture. They will be very popular. I will have the franchise for my store.”

  Reskova clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. McDaniels traded irritated looks with Rasheed, who waved him off, much to Reskova’s continued amusement.

  “I hate to interrupt all this fun, but do either of you have an idea where to start with this school threat, because I do.”

  “I’m listening,” Reskova replied.

  “These guys have a network feeding them information. That will put a few different factors into play. They won’t want anything to do with high security targets because they can’t risk failure before they even begin. They won’t target schools with a high Middle Eastern student body. This operation will be meant to accomplish what Al Ashri outlined - recruitment and money back home. If they wipe out a bunch of Muslim kids, they’re screwed. I figure the target will be a lower middleclass neighborhood with a high Jewish populace… most likely a private school.”

  “They’ll figure to get a goodly portion of middleclass white kids too. This sounds like that Tom Clancy novel where terrorists went after President Ryan’s kid.”

  “I read that novel, Boss,” Rasheed said. “That would not fit into Cold’s scenario. These men will want to do as much damage as was done in Russia, if not more. They will count on the same indecision the Russians experienced.”

  “And by the time someone in authority makes a decision they’ll have the whole school wired,” McDaniels added.

  “Well, we’re on it.”

  “If we find the target in time.”

  “They’re not very good in the woods, but I think you’ll feel a little better when you see Tom and Jen work. Those two are the best forensic and computer investigation people alive. They see patterns where no one sees patterns.”

  “I’m glad. That wasn’t a cheap shot at your team, Boss. We’ll need them to give us a place to start. Once I know the target, Kay and I can find the probable weak spots for an attack while you try and back trace for a pre-emptive strike. If they make it to the school, things will get real dicey.”

  “You mean because of the explosives?”

  “They’ll probably have enough to take out the city block. Don’t rule out car or truck bombs. Instead of running into the building as they did in Russia, they could simply drive right through the front entrance.”

  “Good Lord!” Reskova whispered.

  “If my experience is relevant,” Rasheed added, “these dogs have been seen by someone in the area. They will be pretending to be something they are not.”

  “Cold and I were discussing our problem with Middle Eastern Terrorists coming up from Mexico with Mexican names and birth certificates. They’ll be so far under the radar we’ll have a hell of a time isolating them.”

  “If we can find the area they will make mistakes,” Rasheed said confidently. “They are poor play actors, especially when they anticipate dying on the mission.”

  “You mean like hit the bars and prostitutes just before?” Reskova asked Rasheed.

  “Possibly, but I do not believe they will emulate your 911 attackers. They will be more subtle. I have no doubt they will use women in the attack as did the ones in Russia. I believe they will possibly try to send the women in first with explosives. Once they control the entranceways, they can bring in their whole group. In minutes, they would be completely in control.”

  “We cannot let these animals make it into the school or even near it,” Reskova said anxiously. “I hope you both slept real well, because we’ll only have catnaps until we get these people.”

  “Cold and I have been without sleep for long periods before, Boss.”

  “Good, let’s hope Tom and Jen have a head start on this.” Reskova leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

  “Boss?” Rasheed said, gently shaking Reskova’s shoulder.

  Reskova jerked awake with a startled gasp, reaching under her jacket. McDaniels caught her wrist firmly as other passengers jostled down the aisle of the plane.

  “Easy, Boss, we’re on the ground,” McDaniels whispered close to Reskova’s ear. “If you pull your piece out now, you may get more headlines than I have.”

  Reskova ran a hand through her hair as she sat up straight. “I was really out.”

  “Yes, we even had to move you slightly because of the… ah…” Rasheed shut up when he saw McDaniels shaking his head.

  “What?” Reskova asked, glancing back at McDaniels. “Was… was I snoring?”

  “Oh, Boss, it would be an understatement to call…” Rasheed began.

  “Shut up, Kay,” McDaniels cut Rasheed off. He shrugged at Reskova who had blushed. “Forget it, Diane, it wasn’t a big deal. Kay moved your shoulder and you quieted right down.”

  Reskova noticed some of the people in the seating around them waiting to exit the plane smiling at her. Reskova sank back into her seat. “By the way everyone’s looking at me, I’d say I must have been an 8.0 on the Richter scale.”

  “You hit a few high notes before Kay repositioned you a little.”

  “I never snore,” Reskova said.

  Rasheed chuckled. “I will take your word for that, Boss. Perhaps it was this recycled air they pipe through the vents.”

  “Maybe.” Reskova stood up as McDaniels moved into the aisle, backing up to let Reskova and Rasheed out. She looked over her shoulder at McDaniels. “I didn’t talk too, did I?”

  McDaniels started to speak but Rasheed put an arm around Reskova, guiding her out into the aisle and toward the airliner exit.

  “Do not dwell on this, Boss. I am sure no one heard you call out Cold Mountain in your sleep.”

  “I what?!” Reskova tried to stop but Rasheed kept propelling her on with a laugh.

  “Kay’s just jerking you around, Boss,” McDaniels called out after her.

  “Not funny!” Reskova hissed over her shoulder at Rasheed, who glanced back knowingly at McDaniels.

  The huge hand McDaniels clamped firmly down on Rasheed’s neck as a warning worked only to evoke more laughter from Rasheed, who hunched his shoulders comically. “I am very glad to be in this group. I hope these other two agents are also entertaining.”

  Reskova spotted Barrington first. He gave her a little wave.

  “That can’t be good. We’re being met.”

  As the trio drew near, Barrington with Rutledge next to him led the group to a place away from the crowd of arriving passengers
and people meeting them. When they were in a more secluded spot both FBI agents turned to greet their comrades. Rutledge shook hands with Reskova. She then surprised McDaniels with a quick hug. Barrington shook hands with Reskova and then McDaniels as Rutledge released him.

  “We’ve been following your adventures, Colonel, or should I say Cold Mountain?” Barrington smiled. “Welcome aboard.”

  “You’ve sure had an exciting intro to our little group,” Rutledge added.

  “Thanks,” McDaniels gestured at Rasheed. “This is my good friend, Kumar Rasheed. Just call him Kay. He’s joining us. We worked together in Iraq.”

  “We heard how helpful he’s been,” Rutledge replied, shaking hands with Rasheed, as did Barrington.

  “I am very happy to meet you both,” Rasheed said, turning toward Rutledge after shaking hands with Barrington. “What, no hug?”

  Rutledge blushed. Barrington and Reskova both laughed. McDaniels gave Rasheed a light push on the back of his head.

  “Don’t mind Jen, Kay, she just remembers if not for Cold Mountain here, the three of us would be dead,” Barrington explained, indicating Reskova and Rutledge.

  “I understand very well. I read over the file notes on the headless Hughes.”

  “You two didn’t meet us just for sloppy hellos,” Reskova said. “What’s up?”

  “We’ll explain on the way,” Rutledge answered. “Do you have any bags? We have a car and driver right outside baggage claim.”

  “Let’s go then,” Reskova indicated Barrington and Rutledge should lead the way.

  “The driver okay?” Reskova asked after the five of them were seated in the small limousine.

  “FBI with top secret clearance,” Barrington replied. “We have a lead.”

  “A couple moved in nearly three years ago,” Rutledge explained. “The first thing Tom and I did was look for non-Middle Eastern names with contact to Middle Eastern interests.”

  “Bingo. Jen turned up this couple’s phone records with hundreds of calls to the Detroit area. The recipients of the calls left some evidence through calling card purchases of Middle Eastern backgrounds.”