by Rafael Hines
They pulled out the plastic gas can from behind a tree and doused the car from bumper to bumper. The whoosh of flame ignited by a cigarette sent fire high into the sky.
“Liquid nitro?” Where’d you come up with that shit?”
“I dunno. Musta seen it on TV.”
“Dumb ass.”
“Tell your friends, no more cabs,” the leader said to the cabbie.
The four young men were confident on their home turf. They slowly tucked away their weapons and casually strolled into the maze of connecting buildings.
The driver stared at the burning car, unable to comprehend what had just happened to him. He quickly gave up trying to figure it out and took off running.
At area cab stands where off duty cars were lined up, Molotov cocktails sailed through the air setting dozens of the closely parked taxis ablaze. All over the city, cabs were targeted. Kids on bicycles pedaled up to them, puncturing tires with knives and ice picks. Once disabled, the kids would jump onto the hoods and spray paint a simple three word message on the windows: “NO MORE CABS!”
New York FBI Headquarters
26 Federal Plaza, Downtown Manhattan
Captain Jimmy Ryan sipped his fifth cup of black coffee of the day. Since the initial attack on Union Square three days ago he’d only been able to snatch a few hours of sleep here and there. The coffee barely dented his fatigue, but there was just too much to do.
“What do you plan to do about Valdez’s war on taxis?” SAC Terry Hall asked.
Like Ryan, Terry was exhausted. He hadn’t slept at all. Though he’d showered and shaved, hot water couldn’t erase the dark circles under his eyes, or the deepening lines in his face. Managing the search for Amir Khan while keeping Washington continuously updated was taking its toll.
“I’m not going to do anything about it.”
“Come on Jimmy. They’re attacking cabs all over the city. We can’t sit back and do nothing,” Terry said.
“My friend, as you already know, since I got the call we’ve arrested four terrorists. That’s four so far. Four,” he said again, holding up his fingers for emphasis.
Before the first cab attacks started, Jimmy received an anonymous call on his mobile phone. The caller suggested that once the cabs were disabled they would be part of a crime scene and could then be thoroughly searched. Jimmy had every available bomb squad member out in patrol cars inspecting the damaged taxis. Two had explosive residue in their trunks and the other two had pictures of both John and Felix in their glove compartments. All four drivers also had unlicensed firearms in their possession. They were immediately arrested and were now being questioned.
“We can’t allow this shit to happen in our town. Look out the fucking window Jimmy! You can still see the smoke from the burning cabs.”
“Yeah, I see it, and I’m good with it. Gonzalo’s methods may be crude, but we needed some blunt force trauma to get things moving. Anyway, we’ve already arrested a bunch of his baby vigilantes. Not one over sixteen. The other thing is, they haven’t injured a single person. They just disabled the vehicles. I asked them what they thought they were doing and they said they were, ‘getting busy for Chris.’ They said they were trying to help us and wanted to get back to what they were doing. I personally let two of ‘em go and asked ‘em to stop burning cabs so all the evidence doesn’t go up in flames.”
“You set them free?! You asked them to what?!”
“You heard me Terry. I let them go to pass on the message. Like it or not, this is one of those rare occasions where the good guys and the crooks have a common goal… and a common enemy.”
“I should have you arrested for what you’ve done, Jimmy.”
“You’re tired, and I know you don’t mean that. I know you’ve got the president and the whole fuckin’ world watching you on this, but the fires are gonna stop and now you’ve got four live terrorists in custody. That’s a big win for you, buddy.”
“Maybe. Maybe, you’re right,” Terry said wearily. He leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, and rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands.
“Your guys making the other arrests?”
“Yeah, as we speak.”
“That’s another win and quick progress.”
“The press and Washington don’t see it that way.”
“They don’t know shit about investigating and you know it. You’ve done a great job so far, my friend, but you’ve gotta get some z’s before you fall over or make a bad decision. You shut it down and I’ll make sure everyone on our side keeps gettin’ busy too,” Jimmy said with a smile.
He guided his friend over to the couch and turned out the lights before leaving. Terry was already snoring when Jimmy carefully shut the door behind him and gave terse commands to the FBI agents and police officers that were waiting for him.
Fort Dix Army Base
Burlington County, New Jersey
“First a five mile run, and now this shit?”
“We’ve been standing out here for two hours.”
“That sun is killing me.”
“You two better shut up and get some focus. Something’s going down.”
“You think?”
“I know. This ain’t no drill. All the officers are looking real tense man. They’re waiting for something.”
“What?”
“Dunno. But whatever it is, I guarantee you, it ain’t gonna be good.”
“Yeah, you’re right. They’re real tight. Something’s going down, and it’s gonna suck for us whatever it is.”
The thirty-one-thousand-acre base was locked down on direct orders from its commanding general. The troops were wet with sweat, standing at attention with the hot late afternoon sun in their eyes. Most of them thought it was just another surprise drill in the never-ending routine of surprise drills. They were wrong.
The joint military, ATF, FBI and Homeland Security task force came through the main entrance with weapons drawn and ready. Two soldiers broke formation and took off running. Warning shots were fired, and one ended his futile attempt at escape by first throwing his hands up in the air and then lying face down on the parade ground as instructed. The other one wasn’t going out without a fight. He did a crab walk while he frantically reached for the small caliber pistol stashed in his boot. He stopped, stood up, turned to face his pursuers, and pointed his gun towards them. Before he could fire a shot he was cut down by the ominous force of automatic weapons on full auto.
Another private, and a Captain were also rounded up and hand cuffed. They hung their heads, resigned in the knowledge that their fates were sealed. The captain had betrayed his country for his secretly held radical beliefs. The private had done it for money. Their motivations were different, but both knew their lives were over. They would never be free again and life without parole was the best they could hope for.
The origins of the C4 plastic explosives recovered from the Union Square Park attack had been traced back to the armory at Fort Dix. Once the source was identified it was clear that the conspiracy involved multiple military participants and that at least one officer had to be a key player. Three other soldiers were already in custody and the Special Ops interrogators were merciless in their quest for information.
The United Nations
1st Avenue and 44th Street
New York, NY
Diplomats and leaders from around the world listened intently to the harsh speech being given by the president of the United States. Word of his arrival in New York to visit victims of the attacks traveled fast, but no one at the UN anticipated this. The Secretary of State was scheduled to speak today. They had expected the focus to be on economic globalization, trade balances, and the need to reduce carbon emission around the world. Although everyone knew the terror attacks would be incorporated into the presentation, they did not expect it to dominate the speech. They were wrong.
The president had already been speaking for twenty minutes. His message was strong and clear, hard hitting and aggres
sive. He was a man known for his composure, and had often been criticized for his almost casual demeanor when confronted with controversy or crisis. Until today he was viewed as a man immune to pressure. Today he did not attempt to mask his controlled anger.
“I have always believed that engaging in war should only be undertaken when all other avenues of communication and diplomacy have failed. I believed that before I took office, and I believe it now.
“I also believe that once every other option has been attempted, once every one of our overtures towards a peaceful resolution has been rejected, once the United States of America has been attacked by an individual, a terrorist organization, or a foreign country, we will spare no effort in bringing them to justice. So today I am speaking directly to those responsible for the cowardly attacks on the brave and innocent citizens of New York City. The world is not big enough for you to hide in. We are coming for you and those that support you. That is not a threat. It is a promise.
“Over the past forty-eight hours, through the diligent efforts of the Joint Terrorism Task Force, and through unprecedented multi-agency co-operation, we now have over thirty five individuals in custody that were clearly part of this conspiracy to kill American citizens. I will add that the arrests were not just made here. With the help of our allies, terrorists were captured in Saudi Arabia, The United Arab Emirates, London, and Canada. The United States of America thanks each one of those countries for their assistance and for their continued efforts in the war on terror.
“Now, for those countries that are harboring and assisting terrorist organizations, we have some bad news for you. You are now alone and isolated in the world. The leaders of the free world have agreed in principal to sanction the twelve countries identified as terrorist allies. These sanctions range from trade embargos and forfeiture of assets amongst others. Taking the lead on imposing these sanctions, this morning the United States of America has confiscated over fifty-one billion dollars in assets. Believe me, this is only the beginning. The price of aiding and harboring terrorists has just gone up.”
A dozen U.S. aides walked down the aisles handing the lists of sanctions and asset forfeiture packages to the twelve foreign delegations. Several got up quickly and raced out of the room, while others shouted out in protest. The president looked at them with fire in his eyes.
“So now you have something to say? Well so do I. The banks you have used to funnel money to murderers are now closed to you and the businesses you set up to finance terrorism are forfeit. The money is gone for good. It will be used against you, funding training and equipment for all the agencies involved the Joint Terrorism Task Force. If you don’t want to lose more than you already have I suggest you hand us the terrorists.”
He glared at the protesting delegations scattered around the room for another moment before resuming his speech and softening his delivery.
“I entered my presidency by addressing the world, and encouraging dialogue between friends and foes, between allies and adversaries. Very few of the self-proclaimed enemies of the United States of America accepted my invitation to sit down at the table. Instead, they have continued down a path of misinformation, lies, and ultimately violence.
“So now your assets have been seized and your countries are isolated and alone in the world. Turn over the terrorists you are harboring and we can discuss reintegration into the global economy. Nations from around the world are joining hands and working together as never before in this new war on terror. Over the past three days I have spoken with the leaders of France, the United Kingdom, Spain, Germany, Italy, Russia, China, Japan, Pakistan, India, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Mexico, Brazil and Argentina. They have all committed to working together to eradicate terrorism by isolating and ostracizing those countries that harbor terrorists.
“There are no longer any gray areas. It is now time to choose a side. You can get busy living by participating in the global economy based on fair trade, environmental responsibility, and a commitment to peace and prosperity, or you can bear the burden of leading your countries down a path of destruction. That is the price for promoting the murder of innocent civilians around the world.”
There was a thunderous applause. Many world leaders were on their feet cheering, clapping and banging on tables.
New York State District Attorney Joshua Fishman’s Office
Downtown Manhattan
“You know why you’re here, Cindy?” Josh Fishman asked.
“Haven’t got a clue, sir,” answered Cynthia Weatherspoon, the NYPD Chief of Detectives.
“Sir? You’ve been calling me Fish since as far back as I can remember.”
“That was when you were fresh out of law school, looking like a deer in the headlights, wearing that shiny polyester suit. You’re the DA now, and you’re lookin’ razor sharp in that Hugo Boss,” she said with a smile.
“I wore that poly blue pin for three years. Made it shiny from all the ironing. Seems like so long ago,” Fishman said.
“That’s ‘cause it was a long time ago. We’re both all grown up now.”
“Yes we are, aren’t we,” he said, carefully avoiding eye contact.
“Look Fish, I know you’ve got something shitty for me. You didn’t call me over here to stroll down memory lane. Just spit it.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Cindy. I was stalling. So here it is… John Bishop.”
“The war hero?”
“The one and only.”
“Is this ‘cause of his Uncle?”
“I guess, in part, but it’s more than that. Looks like he may have killed a Yale student seventeen years ago.”
“Yale student? I just read about that case in the news. Didn’t his cousin go down for that?”
“Looks like his cousin Felix took the fall for him,” Fishman said, handing over the file. “Look at the four wit statements on top,” he added.
After carefully reading through each statement given by the four student witnesses she slowly removed her glasses and sighed.
“This is thin Fish. Real thin. You’ll need a lot more than this to convict Bishop.”
“I know, I know. Look Cindy, this guy’s not just a war hero. He saved a lot of lives at Union Square, and his younger cousin died this afternoon from wounds he received in the second attack.”
“I heard the president went to see him,” she said.
“The president pinned the Bronze Star on the kid’s chest before he died and then said a prayer over him.”
“And after that you want me to slap the cuffs on Bishop?”
“No, I want you to get a few of your best detectives to investigate. Subtly.”
“Come on, Fish, what the fuck is goin’ on here?”
“Look, you’ve read the smear campaign and heard all the stuff in the news. Some of the rags are printing more dirt about the Valdez mob and Bishop than they are about terrorist attacks in our own city. Bottom line here is that he pissed off some very powerful people. I’ve been presented with a potentially wrongful conviction in a murder case and I’m ordering you to investigate.”
“This was never a murder case and you know it. At most it was negligent homicide, but it reads more like self-defense to me.”
“My office is prepared to indict him on second degree murder. There also may have been a racial component, so we may up it to murder one with depraved indifference.”
“What!? You’re trying to send Bishop up for life without parole? I can’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head from side to side. “I feel sorry for ya, Fish. I miss that kid in the polyester suit that was gonna change the world. He’d never be part of this.”
“I miss him, too.” He looked melancholy as he stared down at his desk. When he raised his head his eyes were hard, his jaw was set. His decision was already made.
“I feel sorry for you too, Cindy,” he said.
“Because you’ve got me doing you’re dirty work?”
“Honestly, I hope it doesn’t pan out, but if the evidence points to
Bishop I want you to put the cuffs on him with the cameras rolling. You’ll personally take him on the perp walk. You understand?”
“Asshole.”
“Yeah, well, they say Fish always stinks from the head. Now get busy doing your fucking job. And don’t ever think you can talk to me like that again if you want to keep it.”
Chapter 27
Schedule A Meeting
Campos Plaza, LES
The Campos Plaza housing project is made up of four long connecting buildings designed in a fortress-like square with a large open courtyard at its center. With only two main entrances, the original architects had unknowingly created a layout that was custom made for urban warfare. It was easy to defend and ideal for ambushing intruders.
Neither law enforcement nor enemies of the family could enter the housing development without being spotted. It made it the perfect place for the brothers to conduct their business and Gonzalo had made Campos his flagship stronghold over thirty years ago. The family had dozens of individual and connecting apartments throughout the complex. It allowed them to move throughout the buildings and from floor to floor without using the hallways or the elevators. The many thousands of tenants were happy to be living under the Valdez flag. Drugs weren’t sold there and the safety of everyone at Campos was guaranteed. It was truly a crime-free zone. At least at the street level.
Gonzalo Valdez sat at the head of a long mahogany table. His nephew Antonio sat at his right, his brother, and Antonio’s father, Sesa, at his left. Fiero was too angry to sit, and instead paced menacingly around the large conference room. Carlos and Macho had been making Chris’ funeral arrangements when they were summoned to Campos. Macho could barely control his emotions. He sat in silence, his eyes red and wet. He looked like he’d aged ten years over-night. The other brothers, Victor and Calixto, had been administering to the family businesses, but also returned for the mandatory meeting.
John, Felix and Bunny arrived and silently took their seats. John was fuming, his cheeks contracting and releasing, contracting and releasing, from unconsciously flexing his jaw muscles. The terrorist with the broken arm had given him several names and addresses. He’d passed the intel over to Christmas and his team and they immediately went into action. John wished them luck before they left, but really wanted to be by their sides on the front lines. He wanted to be on the hunt.
