by R. A. Lamb
I focused the glasses, “Yeah, that’s the guy on the motorcycle. Ah, Jamad.”
Jamad was dressed in a dark blue shirt and jeans. “Call Hank, Kathy. I think we found the leak.”
Kathy dialed the number, “We see one of them. He’s standing at the edge of the square. What do you want us to do?” She listened. “Okay, I hope they hurry.”
She handed me the phone and said, Agent Holland has agents down there and an undercover lookalike is going to the bench.”
I saw a young guy wearing sun glasses, a baggy sport shirt and khakis walk across the square. His hair was the same color and cut as mine. He sat down on the bench and opened a magazine.
Jamad started to move. “Hank, he’s moving.’
I heard Hank relay the message. The guy on the bench casually kept reading.
There were several people in the square, most in business suits and a few tourists. Jamad stopped to let three men walk in front of him. He did not seem in a hurry.
“Hank, he’s almost to him,” I screamed into the phone. I suddenly felt a chill and realized my shirt was damp from my own perspiration.
Jamad raised his hand leveling a gun at my lookalike. That wasn’t supposed to happen. This was to be a simple meet; then agents were to move in and capture the mole. The magazine flew into the air. The man clutched his chest and fell to the ground.
Several people looked at him but didn’t realize what was happening. Jamad turned and strode toward Market Street.
I shouted, “Hank, Jamad shot your agent. He’s heading for Market Street.”
I heard Hank shout, “Take down the shooter in the square.
Two men in suits and one dressed like a tourist moved on the terrorist.
People around them started to panic. Some dropped to the ground, others ran for the nearest entrance of a building.
Kathy and I stood frozen at the window and watched the scene play out below.
I saw the man who fell to the ground turn over and draw a weapon from under his shirt. Thank God for vests, I thought.
One of the men in a suit cut Jamad off and grabbed his gun arm while the one dressed as a tourist tackled him from behind. Jamad was wrestled to the ground and cuffed. It was over quickly. No one was hurt.
I raised the phone and shouted, “Hank, they have him.”
A dark blue SUV pulled to the curb and the back door flew open. The two men in suits lifted Jamad and pulled him toward the car. One of the suits put his hand on the top of Jamad’s head and eased him down toward the open door when Jamad’s body lurched and fell backward onto the seat.
All four undercover agents immediately drew their weapons and scanned the surroundings. One of the suits raised his wrist to his mouth, held it there and then motioned to the others. He jumped in the car, slammed the door and sped off taking Jamad’s body away from the scene.
Kathy and I heard Hank’s voice through the phone, “Sniper. Roof, West Tower. Move on it.”
The other suit, the tourist and my lookalike raced toward the building Kathy and I were in.
“Red and Blue positions, the shooter is on the roof of the West Tower. If you see movement take the shot, Hank commanded.
He shouted into the phone, “Todd, you and Kathy take the stairs and get out of there. Call tonight, same time.”
My heart was pumping like mad. We raced to the stairway and down to the lobby. People seemed confused, not knowing what to do or go. We made our way through the crowd and to the rear entrance. Kathy and I ran with another couple to the parking lot, got in our car and drove away.
My chest was tight. Breathing was hard. Kathy sat motionless in the seat, pale and staring. “Do you realize what just happened? Jamad was shot by his own people. How could they do that?” Kathy put her head in her hands.
“Obviously they don’t want anyone in custody or questioned. This is my worst nightmare.” I pressed my foot on the gas and raced down 267 toward Bethesda.
All I thought of was getting to someplace safe. I turned on the radio maybe it would distract us for a few minutes. As I changed stations I heard a local news reporter say
“We have just been informed a shooting occurred in Reston, Virginia. The FBI apprehended a suspected terrorist at the Reston Town Center Fountain when shots from an unknown assailant reportedly hit the terrorist. Stay tuned to this station for further updates. On the financial front the Dow took a dip today on fears of…”
I switched stations and found some pop music, “Kathy, I wish we knew if Hank’s men caught the sniper and are close to finding Alkobar. I have this really bad feeling.”
Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, “Me too let’s get to the motel so we can hear the news before you make another call to Hank.”
We got back in plenty of time to watch the evening news. I picked up the Washington Post in the lobby. The headline read:
TERRORISTS CONTINUE TO CAUSE CHAOS
IN DC AREA
Kathy came into my room and picked up the Post lying on the sofa. “Listen to this. Citizen’s in the Washington DC area fear additional terrorism attacks. The series of incidents including the Capitol Hill bombing, the policemen murdered in Tyson’s Corner and the body of a suspected terrorist found stabbed in a house boat near the Jefferson Memorial Tidal Basin cause panic among Washington residents.
A spokesman for the police department said hundreds of calls have been pouring in and significant leads are being followed.”
Kathy continued reading the paper to herself. I sat down on the sofa beside her and flicked on the TV. There was a game show on. The noise was a good distraction. A few minutes later the news began. And the commentator said,
“The top story today is another act of terrorist. This time at the Fountain at Reston Town Center. A sting operation set up to apprehend members of the terrorist cell operating in the Washington DC area apparently went bad. As the FBI closed in shots rang out sending the crowd in the open square into panic. We now switch you to a live press conference on the steps of the Police Department in downtown DC. The Mayor and other officials are making a statement.”
The scene switched. Kathy and I watched intently as the Mayor flanked by the Chiefs of Police from DC and Reston finished his statement. Hank Holland stood behind them.
“…and we assure you every available member of the force is focused on catching those who have committed these atrocities and brought to justice. Now I’ll turn the podium over to DC’s Chief of Police Virgil Ratkin who will answer a few questions.”
The DC Chief of Police and the Mayor changed places. Hank looked uneasy as he scanned the group of news reporters and the crowd of curiosity seekers who stood behind the taped off area. The camera zoomed out and paned around the gathering crowd. Several reporters shouted questions.
Chief Ratkin leaned toward the bank of microphones,
“As you all know I am limited in what I can say since this is an active investigation, however, we need the public’s help in locating the terrorists.”
A picture of Mohan Alkobar flashed on the screen.
“A reward of $250,000 dollars is offered to the person who provides information leading to the capture and conviction of the cell leader Mohan Suk Alkobar. He is extremely dangerous. Do not attempt to apprehend him yourself. Call 903 555 2565. Now your questions.”
A reporter shouted, “How close are you to finding the cell?”
“We are following several leads and are closer than ever before.”
“How big is this cell and is there any truth that they set July fourth as a target date for the next attack?”
“Three members have been neutralized. It is possible they have been replaced. I can’t comment on suspected targets or dates but I can assure you we will take every possible step to protect the public.”
“Do you still have the witness in protective custody?”
“All I can say is they are safe.”
“They? Are there more than one? Did they all work for Congressman Bradford? What
can you tell us?”
The Chief glanced at the Mayor who flinched then stared blankly above the crowd.
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen that’s all the time we have for questions.”
The reporters continued to shout. Over the roar the Police Chief turned. The Mayor was already two steps ahead of him.
Chapter 10
I turned toward Kathy, “The Police Chief just made us roommates for a while longer.”
She didn’t seem to appreciate my attempt at humor. We ordered Chinese, I really wanted pulled pork and sliced brisket from Willies BAR-B-QUE Barn but that was a thousand miles away.
The Green Pagoda delivered a sack filled with cartons of Moo-Shu Pork, Szechuan Beef and fried rice. Kathy set out the paper plates, plastic ware and handed me chop sticks. “That’s my attempt at humor, Cowboy.”
That was the first time we laughed all day.
“Todd, there was a question on the news broadcast that frightened me.”
“You mean about more than one witness? By the way how are you supposed to eat rice with these things?”
“Hold them this way and scoop. And don’t stab your meat, pinch it like this.”
She laughed again as I reached for a plastic fork. “A guy could starve,” I muttered defensively.
Kathy set down her chop sticks, “What I meant was the question about July fourth. Before you were brought to the boat I heard them talking about the Fourth, the concert at the reflection pool and the fireworks. Mohan said the boom on Independence Day will be felt around the world and the others cheered.”
“That’s two weeks from tomorrow. Did you hear anything else?”
“No, that’s about it.”
“Search your memory. It could be important. It’s a little early but I think we should call Hank.” I dialed.
“Holland.”
“Is it safe to talk?”
“Yes, glad you called. Things are happening quickly.”
“We’re nervous Hank. Did you find the mole?” I put the phone on speaker so Kathy could hear.
“In a manner of speaking. I narrowed it down to someone in Chief Ratkin’s office or one of the CSI’s and then laid out the bait. Not long after I talked with Ratkin in his office one of his officers turned up missing. I wasn’t suspicious at first until we had the Chief’s office scanned for bugs and found one.
You were already in place at the Fountains at Reston Town Center so we let it play out and you saw the rest. I’m glad you’re safe.”
‘Who disappeared?”
“Jamie Hendricks.”
“You mean the guy who drew the composite sketch of the terrorist I saw? Why he seemed so helpful and interested in any details that could help.”
“Exactly.”
“Did he tell you where you could find Alkobar and the others?”
“There’s a little problem. He’s still missing. The good news is we think the leak is plugged. The bad news is --”
“Jesus, Hank does he know about the credit card and ID you gave me? Can he trace us? Do we need to find another place?”
“No the card and ID I gave you I got outside the system. Let’s say someone owed me a favor. They’re clean.”
“That’s a relief. Kathy heard something you should know. We’re on speaker. I’ll let her tell you.”
Kathy repeated what she told me. The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. “That fits with some of the pictures we got from the flash drive we found at the “Y”. There were several shots of the concert stage, last year’s celebration and it explains why there were pictures of the fireworks staging area. It didn’t make a lot of sense until now. This could be important. I’ll follow it up.”
“What do you want Kathy and me to do?”
“Nothing right now, just sit tight. Check in tomorrow, same time.”
Hank hung up and I put the phone on the end table. I felt depressed and sensed Kathy felt the same way. It’s amazing how fatigue sets in when everything seems to be going wrong and you don’t see a way out. We sat for a long time in silence until Kathy said, “Do you think things will ever be normal?”
I put my arm around her and she laid her head on my shoulder. I whispered in her ear, “Yeah, I’m sure it will and probably soon.”
“I hope you’re right but I don’t feel that way right now.”
“Hey, we still have that run to the Lincoln Memorial and back and I can’t wait to beat your butt. By the way you never told me what the prize was.”
She didn’t answer like the Kathy I knew. She slid her hand under mine. I laced my fingers through hers.
“Todd?”
“Yeah.”
“Tomorrow could we pretend all our problems are gone? Could we do something, go somewhere, like ordinary people?”
“Like?”
“I don’t know but I want to be outside. I want to feel the wind; the sun, someplace where worry is behind us.”
“Do you know a place like that, Kathy?”
We sat in silence, holding hands.
“Yes I do. Let’s make a picnic lunch, go to a park, stretch out on the grass and stare at the clouds.”
“Sounds perfect.”
She turned and whispered, “When I was growing up, my parents took me to Mohasat. It’s a state park in Arlington. There’s a lake, I guess it’s really a reservoir, but it had a beach and I would take off my shoes and wade, toss pebbles and watch the ripples spread in wide circles. It was a wonderful place.”
“We’ll go tomorrow.”
Kathy turned her face to mine. I had never seen her tears before. “It’s a date, Cowboy.”
I kissed her forehead and held her tighter. The next morning Kathy was up before me, well she was most mornings, but this morning she was beaming. She was wearing a powder blue blouse and navy shorts. “Todd, I found a spare blanket in the closet, we’ll borrow a couple of beach towels from the pool and buy lunch on the way. Let’s get going.”
We were on the road by nine thirty heading for Mohasat State Park after stopping at a super market and buying lunch supplies. Kathy went to the deli section and picked out the food while I got a bag of ice, a Styrofoam cooler, and a bottle of wine.
When we arrived, I was surprised how large the park was. There’s hardly anyone here, probably a different story on the weekends, I thought. I followed the signs to the lake. We drove through a forest of hardwood trees, mostly maple and oak with small stands of cedar scattered here and there. The countryside was hilly, not really steep but with winding roads and lots of bare rock mixed with grassy slopes. This was a whole different look than the DC area I had seen.
We arrived at the lake and chose a grassy knoll near the gravel beach instead of one of the picnic tables with an adjoining charcoal grill. We were alone except for a couple walking their dog along the edge of the water. A few white clouds drifted overhead and the sun’s reflection shimmered on the quiet water.
“You picked a great spot, Kathy.”
“I love it here. Todd, you get the food and I’ll spread the blanket.”
I opened the wine. We had a feast, sliced ham and roast beef, French bread, three bean salad with cupcakes for dessert. I handed Kathy a pebble.
“What’s that for?”
“Ripples.”
She grinned and tossed it into the water. We watched them spread.
“Feel like a hike, Kathy. I know it’s not like a run but…”
“I’m game if you are. There are some trails not far from here.”
We packed up and drove further into the park where it bordered a national forest. I parked near an entrance to a walking path called Lookout Trail. It appeared well kept; we set out into the woods and walked about thirty minutes. It was quiet; the only sounds were birds and a few squirrels which scampered out of our way. Up ahead a hill of bare rock and boulders rose above the trees.
“Let’s head for the lookout, Kathy, and catch the view. Just short of it was a foot trail which led into the dense woods and
the national forest. A sign nailed to a wooden stake read,
Do Not Enter
Path Closed to Public Use
I looked up at the rocky terrain of Lookout Point and the sign indicating the path to the top. “That’s steeper than I thought. I doubt many people get all the way up.” I was not sure Kathy heard me since she was already climbing. About three quarters of the way was a break in slope and a sign which indicated we had reached Mohasat Lake overlook.
I caught up with her, “Wow, what a view.”
She raised her hand to shield her eyes and I slipped my arms around her waist. She rested her other hand on mine and leaned toward me. A light wind gently wafted her hair against my cheek. I could have stood there all day.
Below us was a sea of treetops and the shimmer of the lake where we had lunch some distance away. Immediately to our left a stream meandered its way down into a valley and near the bottom, a clearing of lime green foliage, which contrasted with the rest of the forest. At its edge I spotted the small rooftop of a building. “That’s odd to be in a national forest, what do you make of it?”
“Nothing really, just a rundown shack.”
I turned, “We’ve got time. Do you want to check it out?”
“I don’t know, Todd. That sign said do not enter.”
I snickered, “When did we start following the rules?”
We climbed down to the base and Kathy reluctantly followed as I entered the narrow path which followed the stream into the valley. The path was not maintained and we carefully watched our footing. We must have walked another twenty minutes and were about a hundred yards from the lime green plants on the valley floor when I spotted the shack and a flash of movement. I motioned Kathy to stop.
“I don’t like this place, Todd, let’s go back.”
“Shh, stay here. It just dawned on me what this is. I want to check it out.”
I knew she thought it was a bad idea but I eased forward trying not to make a sound. I was maybe twenty yards from the break in the trees when I spotted someone come around the corner of the shack. The man was about my height, with dark hair and eyes wearing jeans, sandals and a faded blue collared work shirt. What I noticed most was the shotgun he was holding. My heart started racing. Holy crap, why didn’t I just leave it alone and listen to Kathy?
