The generals briefcase, p.23
The General's Briefcase, page 23
Motion across the expanse of the two yards caught his eye. Jo’s Beemer was parking behind his Range Rover. Mike Sato climbed out of the passenger seat. Bob Xavier exited the rear door. Neither man tried overly hard to conceal the MP5 submachine gun strapped under his blue blazer.
Alex smiled. The attack dogs have arrived, ready to rock and roll.
He waved them over, and they clustered at the rear of the garage.
“As far as I can tell, there are no nosy neighbors watching. The garage is empty and looks like it’s barely been used. It appears Dana’s cell has flown the coop. We’ll be cautious going in, just in case.”
His comment was met with quiet nods. No one was gung-ho.
Alex glanced at his watch, 1:05 p.m.
“Jo, you and Mike take the rear door and clear the downstairs and basement. Bob and I will take the front door and clear upstairs. We go in sixty seconds.”
The entry and search was accomplished without incident. The place was cleaned out, and the terrorists’ departure confirmed.
Alex called the team together in the living room.
Jo said, “The coffee maker in the kitchen still contains a cup of lukewarm coffee. Looks like they left this morning.”
Bob ran down the stairs and hurried into the room. “I may have something. This scrap of paper was discarded on the floor of one of the smaller bedrooms.”
He handed the note to Alex, who held it up to the light and read it aloud. It contained the name and address of a motel.
“Motel 1, Arlington.”
“Dana was shorthanded,” Jo said. “One of her new members hasn’t had time to be trained to her usual standard.”
“Let’s roll,” Alex said. “Jo, you ride with me. Give your keys to Mike.”
They hurried outside, slamming the rear door closed.
Alex started the Range Rover and peeled out of the parking space. “Call Felix and tell him to bring his team and meet us at the motel in Arlington. Call Amal and have her alert the FBI to what’s going down. If a forensic team scrubs the Pimmit Hills house, they may find something we missed.
As Jo opened the door and climbed in the Range Rover, Alex said, “Phone Amal. Tell her to burn rubber and meet us at the motel. We may need her ability to speak to the terrorists, assuming any of them can’t or won’t speak to us in English. Ask Courtney to take charge of developments at the Pentagon.”
CHAPTER 74
Coming from the Pentagon, Amal was the first to arrive at Motel 1. She brought Luke in case the situation evolved into a firefight. She hesitated before getting out of the car.
“We’ll wait until Alex and Jolene get here. At this point, we don’t know whether we’re dealing with one terrorist or the entire cell, however many that might be.”
“Let’s talk to the desk clerk,” Luke said. “He may be able to tell us what room the guests are in and how many there are.”
“Good idea.” She exited the car, drew her pistol, and concealed it under her jacket.
The man at the desk appeared to be in his fifties and had spent too much time catering to patrons at third-rate establishments. His white shirt was wrinkled. A garish tie with a small stain that could be mustard did nothing to improve his appearance. A five o’clock shadow was more than two hours early. He looked ready for a nap.
He scowled at the unwanted patrons and uttered a perfunctory greeting. “How can I help you?”
Luke stepped forward and leaned on the desk, towering over the clerk.
In a voice loaded with menace, he said, “This morning you rented one or more rooms to terrorists. Unless you want to spend the rest of your few remaining years in prison, you’ll tell this lady anything she wants to know.”
Terrified, the man looked first at Amal, next at Luke, then back to Amal. He was afraid he’d guess wrong about whom to address.
Near babbling, he said, “I’ll tell you everything. Actually, I don’t know anything. Some young Muslim-looking guy came in alone early this morning and rented a room for three nights, starting last night so he could have immediate access to the room. Some woman made a reservation for him over the phone yesterday with a credit card, so I thought he was legit. He’s in room 203 in the back. You can use my master key if you want.”
Amal held out her hand. “Give.”
He fumbled to remove the key from his chain and passed it to her.
“What else do you know?” she demanded.
“He didn’t have a car, but that didn’t seem suspicious. Lots of people who stay here for a few nights don’t have cars. The woman didn’t come with him. This place may not look fancy, but it’s not a hot-sheet motel.” The man tried to look indignant at the idea he’d be a party to anything sordid, drawing himself up to his full height of five feet seven inches.
“Show me a floor plan of the second floor.”
The man opened a drawer in the front desk and handed her the floor plan for the motel.
The sound of Alex and Jolene charging through the door caused Amal to react by whirling and pointing her pistol at Alex, who was in the lead. “Sorry. Next time, don’t forget to knock.”
Strictly business, Alex frowned. “What have you learned so far?”
“A young Muslim guy checked in early this morning. A woman reserved the room for him, starting last night for three nights. He’s alone in room 203 in the back.”
She showed the floor plan to Alex and Jolene.
Alex pointed to Luke. “Stay here and keep our friend company. Phone us if any of the other terrorists show up. The three of us will head for room 203.”
He put his phone on mute and gestured to Jo and Amal to do the same.
Once outside room 203, he held his finger to his lips. He eased the master key into the door, turned the knob, and quietly entered the room. He spied the young man lying on the room’s only bed, sound asleep on his stomach and snoring loudly enough to serenade the neighbors if any were around.
Jolene whispered to Amal, “Handcuff him and give me the key.”
Amal holstered her pistol, opened her purse, and removed a set of handcuffs. She sidled up to the bed, grabbed the terrorist by the left wrist, and fastened the cuff. When the man awoke, he struggled to escape. She seized his right wrist, torqued it behind his back, and chained both hands together.
Dragging a desk chair next to the bed, Alex lifted the man and forced him to sit in the chair.
Dazed and terrified, the subject stared at his captors. “Why are you hassling me? I didn’t do anything. Are you cops? Am I under arrest?” His eyes fixed on Amal, who leveled her pistol at him. “Don’t shoot.”
Not saying a word, Amal stepped forward and pressed the weapon against his forehead.
Jolene pushed the pistol aside and moved in front of Amal.
“We won’t have to kill him. I’m sure he’ll cooperate.” Jolene played good cop in the good cop/bad cop scenario. She leaned over the young man, as though they were partners in crime, and spoke in a quiet voice. “To answer your question, no, we’re not cops. We’re your worst nightmare.”
Amal continued to look threatening.
Jolene said, “What’s your name?”
“Abdullah . . . Abdullah Khauli.”
“See, I told you he’d cooperate. There’s no need to kill him,” Jolene said triumphantly, looking over her shoulder at Alex and Amal, as though she’d just won an argument. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.” By this point, Abdullah had the message loud and clear. To survive, he had to cooperate.
“Stand up,” Jolene said. When he complied, she added, “Turn around.”
She unlocked the handcuffs and handed them to Amal, along with the key.
“He won’t need these. Abdullah has proven he’s eager to cooperate.”
Pushing gently on Abdullah’s chest, she eased him back into the chair.
“Now, listen carefully to what I have to say and don’t interrupt. We know you’re a terrorist. And we know you’re helping Dana Hussein al-Sadi who plans to explode two nuclear weapons in the Washington area.”
“NO,” he screamed.
She shushed him. “Please, you were winning points for cooperating. Don’t blow it. If I’m convinced you’re working with me and telling the truth, I’ll find a way to shorten your stay in prison.”
Abdullah gasped.
“Yes. You will spend time in prison. But how long and how severely you’re treated can be determined by those of us in this room. I’m with the Feds.” She pulled out her credentials and flashed them in front of Abdullah, too rapidly for him to take in her agency. “I have the power to influence whether you’ll serve time at a supermax prison where the felons are alone in a cell twenty-three hours a day, and the other hour they live in fear of being beaten up or stabbed with a shiv. Or you could be sent to a country club prison where all the white-collar criminals go. I can determine whether you’ll be sentenced to life in prison or only a few years.”
She pulled her pistol and pointed it between his eyes. “If you refuse to cooperate, I will shoot you right here, right now.”
Abdullah shuddered, reacting as though he feared death was only seconds away.
“You choose your destiny. Tell me the truth, the whole truth right now, and I’ll be merciful. Lie or continue to deny, and this will be your last moments on earth. Or you may experience time in prison that’ll feel like an eternity in hell.”
Shaken to the core by the threats from the one person in the room he believed to be his salvation, Abdullah was sobbing. His shoulders were shaking.
“I’ll give you one last chance to cooperate, Abdullah. What are Dana’s plans?”
He wiped away the tears, with the air of having decided to gamble on his female captor’s mercy.
Startling everyone, the alarm on Abdullah’s cell phone began buzzing.
“Don’t shoot,” he screamed, holding up his hands to ward off the expected attack. “That’s my wake-up call. Dana’s meeting me here in twenty minutes, at three o’clock. We’ll leave here, headed for New York. Dana needs me.”
When Jolene raised her eyebrows skeptically, he said, “I may look like a kid, but I’m a trained scientist.” He threw his chest out proudly as if to prove the boast. “I know how to activate the suitcase nuke, or to troubleshoot if there’s a problem. The bomb was okay when Majid and I examined it last night after we placed it in the trunk of the car of the woman Reema seduced. She called me to hand off the woman’s car keys. I gave them back after we hid the bomb.”
Near babbling, he stared at Jolene to see how his words were being received. Reassured she took no aggressive action, he continued, speaking somewhat more confidently. “The woman was expected to drive to her job at the Pentagon. Dana only needs me if something goes wrong with the bomb, but nothing can go wrong. She’ll detonate the nuke at four o’clock sharp while we’re driving out of town.”
Jolene stared at her teammates, presenting a calm facade, but astonished at the matter-of-fact revelations of the young terrorist.
Abdullah continued to talk, the floodgates now open. His voice was filled with pride at his role in the historic attack to come. “The bomb can only be detonated from Dana’s cell phone. She dials a certain number and enters the code. Majid and Dana are the only ones who know the codes. Unless someone goes through the correct procedure, the bombs are safe.”
Jolene cleared her throat, trying to hide how shaken she was by the thought of a nuclear weapon exploding at the Pentagon, less than two miles away. “You’re doing very well, Abdullah. I’m proud of you. Tell me the name of the woman Reema seduced.”
“Barbara Willoughby.”
“And Barbara works for the Pentagon?”
“Of course. The whole point is that her parking place is close enough to the building to ensure a lot of casualties and maximum damage.”
Jolene glanced at Amal who pulled out her cell phone as she ran from the room.
“Of course. That’s good to know. You’re racking up a lot of points on the board, Abdullah. If you keep going this way, your future will look much brighter.”
Abdullah relaxed slightly.
“Tell me. What are the plans for the second suitcase nuke?”
“I have nothing to do with that. It’s entirely Majid’s responsibility.”
Jolene nodded. “I see. And where is that bomb?”
“Majid keeps it in the trunk of a BMW in the parking garage at Union Station. He plans to park the BMW near Congress. He’ll call from his cell phone and enter the code number to trigger the bomb at 4:00 p.m., while driving out of town in a green Hyundai Elantra.”
“What’s the color and model of the BMW?”
“Red. A 2014 BMW 3 sedan.” Abdullah was preening at being able to show off his knowledge of vehicle models.
Jolene gestured to Alex, who quickly exited the room.
She knew at this juncture both the bomb squad on standby at the Pentagon and the one in the District would be alerted. She breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t out of the woods, but, at long last, things were beginning to look up.
Abdullah had fed them the targets of the two suitcase nukes—the Pentagon, which they’d long suspected was Dana’s primary objective—and Congress. She tried to think what further information she could pry from the pliable youth.
“Where is Reema, and what’s her role at this point, since she succeeded in seducing Barbara Willoughby and getting you her car keys?”
“Her only job was to seduce Barbara. She was a huge success. I last saw her at Willoughby’s condo when she gave me the keys to Barbara’s car so we could put the nuke in the trunk. Dana never told us what Reema was to do next or where she was going. She’s a nice girl, very sexy. I wish her next job were to seduce me.” Abdullah blushed. “I hope she’ll be okay when the bombs explode.”
“We need you to tell us the names and assignments of other members of your cell.”
“There are no other members. Majid told us everyone else was killed. When I was recruited, another Muslim, named Fajer, was rejected. He had attracted the attention of the FBI, so Dana sent him away.”
“What kind of car is Dana driving?”
“A Mercedes-Benz 2015 C-Class sedan,” he said.
Jolene concluded she’d gotten all the information possible from Abdullah. The most crucial action was to forestall the bomb explosions, which was up to the bomb squads.
At that moment, Amal and Alex returned.
“I alerted the bomb squad at the Pentagon,” Amal said. “They’ll pinpoint where Barbara Willoughby’s car is parked and begin disarming the nuke.”
Jolene threw Alex a questioning look.
He gave her a grim smile. “The MPD Bomb Squad is deploying near the Capitol. Within minutes, they’ll have dozens of cops, FBI special agents, ATF, and Capitol Police searching for a red Beemer.”
“So far, so good,” Jolene said. “There’s nothing more we can do about the two nukes. Our priority is to apprehend Dana and any of her cell members who are still at large.”
Alex asked Jolene, “What more have we learned from Abdullah?”
“He’s been extremely cooperative. We know the only terrorists from that cell still at large are Dana, Majid, and Reema. The others are dead or captured.”
“It only takes one to detonate two suitcase nukes,” Alex muttered.
“No, two,” Jolene said. “Dana is scheduled to pick up Abdullah here at Motel 1 at three o’clock. She’s driving a Mercedes-Benz 2015 C-Class sedan. At four o’clock sharp, she’ll detonate the nuke parked at the Pentagon in the trunk of Barbara Willoughby’s car. Dana and Abdullah will leave here headed for New York City where they plan to meet up with Majid.”
Alex looked puzzled.
Jolene clarified what she’d learned from Abdullah.
“Majid’s job is to detonate the nuke in the trunk of a red Beemer parked near Congress. That explosion is also scheduled to occur at four o’clock. Then he’ll travel to the New York rendezvous.”
“What about Reema?”
“Reema’s whereabouts are unknown. She left Barbara Willoughby this morning. Abdullah said Dana never told the others in the cell where Reema would be going or what she would be doing. We can ask Courtney to question Willoughby to see if she can shed any light on what Reema is up to.”
Amal said, “I’ll call Courtney and ask her to quiz Willoughby.”
CHAPTER 75
Participants fled the meeting room when word leaked the Pentagon’s bomb disposal squad would be searching for a suitcase nuke hidden in the trunk of Barbara Willoughby’s car. Wearing protective gear—not that it would prolong their life if a nuclear bomb exploded near them—the bomb squad technicians rushed out to disarm the device.
Rick Birmingham stood next to Elmer Farnsworth outside the Pentagon meeting room. “The president gave the CIA the primary responsibility for finding the nukes,” Rick said. “Alex and Jolene exceeded their authority.”
Elmer looked at his partner in conspiracy as though he’d lost his mind. “Do you think President Scofield or anyone else will give a rat’s ass about that? Alex and his team won the game. Jolene scored the winning touchdown. She got the young terrorist to tell us their plans to bomb the Pentagon and the Congress. Every one of those NCTC bastards is a hero. In this town,” he and Rick had it in common to think of the Pentagon as an integral part of Washington, “success is the only currency that spends. Today, you and I represent failure. We’ll be lucky if we keep our jobs.”
“I won’t stand for being branded a failure. I’ll find a way to blame the outcome on Jolene.”
Shaking his head, Elmer said, “Rick, I say this to you as the closest thing you have to a friend. You’re full of shit. We lost.” Watching Rick’s face redden with uncontrolled anger, he said, “If you continue to push it, Jolene will retaliate by reopening the attempted rape charge against you. You need to face it. Everyone, including me, knows you’re guilty. Jolene’s mistake was to accuse you lacking evidence. Her dad has been working quietly behind the scenes to set the stage for her to reopen the case.” Elmer laughed nervously, “Now that she’s the queen of Alex’s merry band of heroes, she won’t need proof. All she’ll have to do is repeat the accusation. She’s untouchable. If she ran for sheriff in Dogpatch against Li’l Abner, Jolene would win in a landslide.”
