by Gary Ponzo
“I guess not,” Nick said.
A massive black bear hung on the wall, stuffed and staring down at them with a mouthful of sharp teeth.
Tommy pointed at the animal. “That something you-”
“It was there before I got here,” Nick said, lifting his attention from the computer screens and watching Jennifer Steele, Luke and Matt come into his office.
“Well,” Matt said, “you can cross Semir off the list.”
“Tell me about it,” Nick said.
They did.
Jennifer Steele brought Nick up to speed with her and Luke’s liberation of Matt and Tommy from Buck Martin and his Iron Mountain team. Matt added the capture of Semir and explained the battering Buck gave the kid.
“He okay?” Nick asked.
“He’s fine,” Matt said. “Luke bandaged him up on the ride over here.”
Tommy dug a purple toothpick in his mouth. “So are you gonna tell me about this Barzani guy?”
“Well,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair, “he’s smart. He graduated from Georgetown with a Political Science degree. That’s where he met Kharrazi. When Kharrazi had his … uh, car accident,” Nick tried to keep the satisfaction from his face, “Barzani took over. The thing is, he’s not as brash as Kharrazi, but he’s more progressive. He’s very tech savvy. He’ll keep his hands clean and let some of his underlings do the dirty work.”
“So this Barzani guy sets up camp here just to kill you?” Tommy asked.
Of course it was the perfect question to ask and if an eavesdropper were to listen to Tommy’s inquisitiveness they might mistake it for dumb curiosity. But Nick knew nothing could be further from the truth. Tommy might have dropped out of high school, but he could read a situation better than any Harvard psychology professor. It was one of Tommy’s true gifts. He’d been underestimated his whole life and loved every minute of it.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Nick said. “Why did he send his nephew to take a shot at me? If he was serious, he would’ve sent a true sniper.”
“This guy a religious fanatic?”
“No, these guys aren’t jihadists. They’re on a mission. There are over twenty million Kurds living in Turkey, Iran and Iraq. They’re the largest ethnic group in the world without a country. They want to declare a portion of Kurdistan a sovereign nation for Kurds.”
“So, what’s wrong with that?” Tommy jabbed his toothpick in between two molars.
“What’s wrong is Turkey asked for the U.N. to send troops to help subdue the KSF from ravaging villages. The Kurds want the U.S. to withdraw its troops so they can take control.”
Tommy sucked on his toothpick seemed to take it all in.
Nick turned to Matt and sighed. “I spoke with Trish Tanner.”
Matt’s lip curled into a disgusted look of anger. Dave Tanner was one of their teammates and they’d spent years chasing terrorists together. “How is she?”
Nick shook his head. “Not good. She was upset and spitting some creative words my way.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Matt. “She begged me to kill Barzani. She said, do it for Dave.”
“Who’s Dave?” Tommy asked.
“Dave Tanner,” Nick said. “You knew him, he was part of our team back in Baltimore. He was murdered last night.”
“Damn,” Tommy said. “They’re turning the table on you guys, making you the targets this time.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. He looked around the room at the rest of his current team and assessed their chances of catching Barzani. He needed help, but he didn’t know from where.
Nick looked at Matt. “You still have the password to the counterterrorist team’s file?”
Matt shook his head. “Not since we came here.”
“Shit,” Nick grumbled.
“Call Walt,” Matt said. “He’ll give it to you.”
Nick considered the idea when a voice came from the doorway. “Someone looking for me?”
A large, dark-skinned man stood with his arm around Julie, who beamed her delight at his presence. Walt Jackson strode into the room like a giant leopard, moving his six-foot-five frame with the elegance of an Olympic athlete. Which he was before he became the Special Agent in Charge of the Baltimore field office. He held a brown brief bag under his arm.
Julie said, “I found this man roaming the parking lot,” then she disappeared and closed the office door.
Matt was the first to greet Walt, first shaking his hand, then being pulled into a bear hug.
“Good to see you, Walt,” Matt said.
“Yeah, well I couldn’t exactly stand still while a couple of my old agents became targets.”
Nick moved around the desk now and Walt was careful to keep his greeting to a two-handed handshake, dropping his bag on the desk.
“How are you?” Walt asked, sincere as always.
“I’m fine,” Nick said, glancing at his shoulder. “A flesh wound is all.”
Walt frowned. “Yeah, right.”
Nick made some introductions, then directed Walt to the only chair which might hold his large frame-the chair behind Nick’s desk.
Walt sat down with a grunt. He had bags under his eyes. “Been traveling all day,” he said, stretching out his legs.
Tommy must’ve sensed a law enforcement meeting coming on as he edged toward the door.
Before he took a second step, Walt said, “Sit down, Tommy. I could use some of your help here.”
Tommy’s chest pumped out at the comment. He grabbed a folding chair to sit on, then resumed his toothpick routine.
“I hope you didn’t come all the way here just for me?’ Nick asked.
The sun momentarily hid behind a cloud while Walt looked down at his shoes. “You know about Dave, right?”
Nick nodded.
Walt said, “I don’t like the timing.” He reached over and grabbed his bag. He came out with an eight-by-ten glossy of Dave’s body. He handed it to Matt and watched his ex-partner grit his teeth.
When Nick got the photo, he wanted to hand it to Steele before he even looked it over. Dave appeared to be in an alley lying face down looking away from the camera. His neck was twisted at an odd angle as if he’d fallen on a rock. Steele took the picture and spent more time than Nick did before handing it to Tommy.
“Professional,” Tommy said.
“That’s right,” Walt said. “Two bullets to the back of the head.”
“He owe anyone any money?” Tommy asked.
Walt raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, actually he did. He was down heavy to a bookie in D.C. It made us wonder if that direction was a possibility.”
“How much?” Tommy asked.
“Five grand.”
“Uh uh,” Tommy said. “Not enough to get slammed like this.”
“Tell me,” Walt said.
Tommy leaned over to put the photo on the desk, then said, “There’s a ten grand rule in D.C. Everyone abides by it. Someone runs their debt up to nine grand and they stop playing or leave town. No one’s dumb enough to go over the limit.”
“Maybe he was dealing with someone who didn’t know the rules?”
Tommy waved his toothpick at Walt. “Nah. The street wouldn’t allow it. Too many steps to booking inside the beltway. The SEC practically regulates the damn thing.”
Walt smiled. “Thanks, Tommy.” He turned to Nick and made it a point to look at his shoulder as he spoke. “So like I was saying, I don’t like the timing.”
Nick stared out the window and thought about Dave Tanner’s wife and kids. For a brief moment he remembered that he himself had a child on the way, but he quickly brushed away the thought like a housefly.
“Any idea who did it?” Nick asked.
Walt leaned his head back. “That bothers me. We’ve practically had that scene scrubbed with a microscope and came up with nothing. No prints which matched anyone in the computer, no witnesses. Nothing.”
“Barzani paid a professional, no doubt,” Nick said.
“He’s the ultimate delegator,” Matt chimed in. “What about the rest of the team?”
Walt cocked his head, “Those three? You see them hiding in a safe house while the rest of the office goes after Dave’s killer?”
Matt shook his head.
“Exactly,” Walt said. Then he squirmed a bit trying to get comfortable. “I need to tell you, there’s credible evidence the KSF is attempting to detonate a bomb at LAX.”
“How credible?” Nick asked.
Walt seemed to understand the question. He shrugged. “It’s not strong, but it’s LAX and we can’t afford to be wrong about it.”
“So there go our resources,” Matt said.
There was a twinkle in Walt’s eye as he watched his two star pupils putting the puzzle together.
“That’s right,” Walt said. “That’s where I’m headed right now. I won’t be able to offer you much support. They’re not threatening anything around here.”
“Except us,” Nick said.
“What about the Army, the National Guard, Hostage Rescue?” Steele asked.
Walt sighed and went for the obvious retort. “The military is a bulky sword,” he said. “What this requires is a scalpel. A small tactical team of professionals.”
Walt looked around the room, his eyes landing on Steele. “That’s where you come in. They’re going to need your help here.”
The room stayed silent while Nick considered the challenge of going after Barzani with the inhabitants of that small room.
Walt let out a big breath, like he was holding it in for just such an occasion. He edged forward on the chair and counted off on his fingers. “First of all you’ll have full access to our tech squad. You need a license plate run or a satellite image, you got it. Second, I’ve sent for a couple of agents to come up from Phoenix. They can set up a safe house for Julie until we can resolve this mess. Third, I’ll have a specialist sent up with those guys. Someone with gear to help track Barzani. And finally …” Walt looked at Nick and Matt. “Do what you two do best. Use your instincts.”
Nick and Matt nodded.
“So,” Walt said, repositioning his stiff legs. “What do we do?”
“Start with what we know,” Matt almost chanted. It was the same question Walt would ask during every briefing and induced the same response each time.
“And what do we know?” Walt asked.
“Barzani has been here for six months,” Steele said.
Walt smiled. “That’s right, Jennifer. What does that mean?”
“It means he’s had time to plan,” Steele answered.
“Good,” Walt said. “What else.” He was playing the mediator. Like a good football coach trying to press the right buttons to squeeze the most out of his players.
The room was quiet for a minute while Walt drummed his thick fingers on the desk.
Finally, Nick said, almost absently, “They’re using cash.”
This brought a great big grin to Walt’s weathered face. “Go on.”
Nick looked over at his deputy who was sitting in the back of the room, paying attention, but not seeming comfortable with a roomful of federal agents. “Luke, you’ve been here the longest. Go to all the local realtors. Find out who paid cash to rent a place up here five and six months ago. Only the ones who paid by cash. There won’t be many. It’s not like Barzani opened a checking account. After that, check the car lots. Find out about any big cash purchases within the same time frame.”
Luke left the office with a smile, seeming grateful to be part of the chase.
Nick thought about Luke’s skill with terrorists and gestured to Steele. “Jen, go with him. I don’t like him out there without someone with experience. He has a tendency to react too quickly.”
Steele nodded and left the room.
They sat silent for a moment. Walt pointed to Tommy. “You have any connections in Mexico?”
“Sure,” Tommy said. “What are you looking for?”
“We’ve discovered a large tunnel under the California border. It went directly into a dirty warehouse a couple of hundred yards into the country. It’s different than most tunnels we find, very sophisticated. Halogen lights, oxygen, the whole works. I need to know if there was any Kurdish involvement with this project or simply a high end drug tunnel.”
Tommy hopped to his feet, pulled out his cell phone and headed for the door. “I’ll make a call and find out,” Tommy said. Then he closed the door behind him.
Chapter 8
Tommy felt the cool mountain air hit him as he stepped out of the sheriff’s office and dialed a contact number on his phone. Even though he’d been in Payson less than a day, he was beginning to develop an appreciation for the small town’s atmosphere. It was more open and serene. He could see himself living in a place like this where the skyline was etched with pine trees.
Back in west Baltimore the streets were teeming with possible assailants. Tommy’s innate ability to detect a foreign body in the city’s bloodstream always served him well, but it had been fine-tuned from years of mingling with the crowd and creating alliances. Out here, however, it seemed much easier to spot an intruder. There were no drug dealers hanging out on the corner, or gangbangers looking to initiate new members.
So it was easy for him to spot the shadow lingering behind the steering wheel as he strode out onto the wooden deck. The figure behind the wheel seemed to track Tommy as he moved onto the gravel parking lot, paying too much attention to an ordinary man on his cell phone.
Tommy waited four rings, then heard the tone click over to voice mail. A male voice on the phone said, “Go.”
“Hey, Hector, it’s Tommy. Give me a call.”
Tommy pushed his phone off and watched the figure in the car stare at the sheriff’s office. From the parking lot Tommy could see Julie standing by a small window. The man’s attention seemed to be on her.
Tommy considered getting help from inside, but was afraid the guy might bolt. He decided to be direct. Maybe the guy was simply waiting for someone, but Tommy couldn’t afford to wait. From what he’d heard, this Barzani guy could be using anyone to get Nick.
Something gnawed at Tommy’s gut and it took a minute for him to realize what it was. Julie. She was inside that office waiting for Nick, being the good wife. Being brave. He had to eliminate any possibility the shadow was a danger.
Tommy went to his rental car, which was parked behind the man’s car. He went around the back and opened the trunk, stalling for time. Trying to figure out what to do next. From behind the opened trunk he could see the back of the car. Tommy waited for someone else to leave the office or someone to pull in, but in this one horse town, it could be a while. He was about to dial Nick’s cell phone when the guy started the engine. Tommy lost his patience and decided to do what he did best. Go head first. Be the aggressor. Take the tail by surprise.
He slammed the trunk shut and took long, strong steps toward the sedan. As he approached the passenger side of the car, he could hear the window slide down. He bent over to see who he was dealing with and saw right away his haste had cost him. The man behind the wheel held a pistol with a confidence which took years to acquire.
“Get in,” the man grunted.
Tommy had one option. As he opened the door, he got a good look at the man. There was an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth and a smug grin on his face.
Tommy dropped into the passenger seat, shut the door, then wheeled and snatched the gun from the man’s hand. He aimed the gun directly at the man’s chest and pulled the trigger. A sliver of a yellow flame popped out of the top of the gun. He held the gun still while the man leaned over the flame and sucked his cigar to life.
“Joey Tess,” Tommy said. “Always with the toys.”
Joe Tessamano held the freshly lit cigar between his left index and middle fingers and reached over to give Tommy a bear hug. “Been too long, Tommy.”
Tommy patted Joe’s back and pulled away to see him smiling, his bright
white teeth gleaming against his tanned face. “The fuck are you doing out here?”
“I’m living down in Scottsdale now,” Joe said, taking a quick drag on the cigar to keep it going. “A couple of hours drive.”
“Hey, how’s Kenny doing?”
Joe rolled down his window and blew out a stream of smoke into the mountain air. He paused for a moment and Tommy braced for the bad news. Joe’s son had been strung out on heroin for years. When Joe came to Tommy for help, Tommy put the word out on the street: any dealer who sold to Kenny would pay dearly. Tommy had cachet back then. He never had to say things twice.
Now Joe looked over at Tommy with a sparkle in his eye. “He’s doing great.”
“Really?”
“He’s a veterinarian over in San Diego. Got a wife and 3-year-old daughter.” Joe fished around the inside of his jacket with his free hand and came out with a photo of a young girl in a pink dress holding a giant lollipop in one hand and a ‘Happy Birthday’ balloon in the other.
Tommy grabbed the picture. “Aw, she’s not spoiled at all, is she?”
Joe chuckled, taking the picture back and stuffing it into his pocket. “She’s the love of my life.” He looked over at Tommy with a sentimental smile. “Hey, Tommy, listen … uh, thanks.”
“For what?”
Joe cocked his head slightly at Tommy’s charade of ignorance.
Tommy waved the back of his hand at him. “Yeah, of course, Joey. I’m glad he made it. I’m happy for you.”
Joe pointed his cigar at Tommy. “‘You know what I always liked about you? You never took an order without asking why. Cap would tell you to scare someone, or break a bone and you’d always look at him and ask why. No one ever asked Mr. C. why about anything except you. And the beautiful way you’d spin it when he gave you that dark glare. ‘But Mr. Capelli, should someone ask me why I’m doing something and all I do is shrug, well pretty soon they’re going to fill their head with their own ideas and maybe it’s not the right ones. Maybe they guess wrong about your motivation, then maybe they start talking behind your back, start making their own plans.”
“Then,” Joe added, “You’d give him that classic Tommy look with your eyebrows raised and say, ‘I’ve gotta have your back, Boss.’”
