Enemy Among Us-A Jordan Wright Thriller (35 page)

“Those guys at the door are trained. I think they’re Special Ops,” Jordan said.

“Are you providing confirmation, sir?” The sniper queried.

“Not at this point. It’s just a hunch. Wait! Yes, confirmation! I know one of them. Definitely Special Ops.” Jordan eyes were focused on Jon Halloren, a former colleague from previous missions.

“We have confirmation the men at the door are Special Ops,” the spotter said into his radio. “I repeat. Confirmation men at door are Special Ops. Stand down when hostages secure.”

“Jon, you son of a gun. You turn up in the strangest places,” Jordan said under his breath.

“You know him?” Kate was by his side as both were watching the men being escorted away from the building by the police.

“Yeah, we’ve done some ops together in the past. If you were ever in a hostage situation, he’s the guy you want to have in the room with you. He’s top notch.”

“Do you want to go down and talk with him?”

“I do, but I still think we need to get to the Mint. We’ll call Max on our way down. Tell her what we saw and where we’re going. Max and William both know Jon.”

Chapter Seventy

“Max, this is Jordan. Do you read?” Jordan called over their frequency.

“Go ahead, Jordan.”

“Are you aware of what’s going on at the Constitution Center? The hostages are coming out.”

“Yes. We watched it up here.”

“Did you see who brought them out?”

“Sure did. We’re having him and his team brought up here. Are you still on the roof?”

“Negative. Kate and I are en route to the Mint. We saw Mustafa there and are going to go over and investigate. Could you call over and let them know we’re coming?”

“Sure will. Keep us posted.”

“Commander, do we have a line to the Mint from here?” Max asked.

“I believe we can call directly to their security center.”

Stan walked over to Choufani. “It might expedite things, Sharif, if you made the call. I’d have to go through the crap about who I am and why I’m here. You can cut through that if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not a problem. Lieutenant Hall, can you connect me to the security center in the Mint?”

The Lieutenant walked over to the phone and looked at the master list for the number.

“If I might suggest,” Stan said to Choufani, “let’s not tell them about Mustafa. If you would just tell them two agents are coming over and want to check some things, do you think that could get them in? I want to make sure we don’t tip Mustafa off. I really want to catch him. My guess is the Mall is the diversion and the Mint is the target.”

“Okay, I can do that. But I want to move some of my units closer as back up. Then, if something does start to go down, we can be on top of it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ve got them on the line, Commander. It’s a Captain Patterson, sir.” The Lieutenant handed the phone to Choufani.

“Jim, Sharif Choufani here. Look, I’ve got two agents coming over there just to check things out. Could you have someone meet them and take them around?” Choufani was listening to the reply. “I realize you are on lock down, but we’re facing something unique here on the Mall and we just want to cover all of our bases.” Choufani again was listening. “Thanks, Jim. It’s an Agent Jordan Wright and Agent Kate Woolrich. Two of the best and they’re on loan to us from the Feds, but we’ve turned them into Philadelphians.” Choufani laughed and hung up the phone. He looked at Stan. “They’re in. Patterson will meet them at the main entrance. Remember that steak dinner you’re buying me?”

Stan nodded.

“I think you owe me another.”

“Not a problem. My pleasure.” Stan slapped Choufani on the back, startling him. “I’ll let Jordan know.”

Chapter Seventy-One

“I have a problem. I have a problem! Aziz! I need help! Help me!”

Aziz heard the voice over his radio. At first, he wasn’t sure whose it was. Why had someone broken the rules and used Aziz’s name? He keyed his radio. “This is one. Who is this?

“Aziz, this is Parijan. Our hostages are leaving. They are running out the door. What do we do?”

Aziz couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew Parijan was a member of the team at the Constitution Center, but, where was the leader, Soroush, number four on their call signs. He knew Parijan wouldn’t know the codes, so Aziz had to respond and find out what exactly had happened. “Okay Parijan, first tell me what happened to Soroush.”

“There were men here, amongst the hostages. One of them said he needed to go to the bathroom. We were taking him, but as we walked by the desk where Soroush was seated, this man jumped and grabbed Soroush and hurt him. Soroush is unconscious. He may be dead!”

Aziz sighed. This was not good. To Aziz, it sounded like Soroush had gotten sloppy. “Parijan, tell me what happened next.”

“More men got up from the group. Two of them charged Naseem and knocked him out. After that, they yelled at the other hostages to move and they ran to the emergency exit doors. Before we could do anything they were gone. They’re all gone Aziz! What do we do?”

Only Naseem and Soroush had guns and it sounded like the men who had attacked them got the guns. With all the hostages gone, it would only be a matter of minutes before the SWAT team would try to breech the building. There was little Aziz could do for his cousins at this point. Perhaps he could use the distraction to his advantage. He just needed to think. “Parijan, take everyone and go to the center of the building, away from any of the doors, and barricade yourselves in a room with no windows, if possible. We will try to come get you later. You have nothing to fear.”

“Yes, Aziz. That is what we will do.”

Aziz knew that he could never go rescue them. There wasn’t any more he could do, but he hoped by them doing what he asked it would delay the SWAT team in their effort to take control of the building. Aziz needed to determine his own action.

“Number one, this is three.”

“Go ahead three.” Three was the leader in the Visitors’ Center, the building adjacent to the Constitution Center. Aziz was guessing they had seen what was taking place next door.

“What are we going to do, one? This is bad. My team saw the hostages leave. They know the police will enter there soon. What’s our plan? What are you going to do?”

The last thing Aziz needed now was for another one of his leaders and their team to be in a panic. This had gone from bad to worse, faster than he’d anticipated.

“Three, nothing has changed. Stay on task. Team four made some mistakes. Keep your team focused. Take nothing for granted.”

“Yes one, but this wasn’t supposed to happen. Mustafa said we would be in control and the enemies of Islam would try nothing.”

“They haven’t tried anything. Team four messed up. Make sure you team doesn’t do the same. One, out.” Aziz couldn’t waste time with this conversation. He had to figure out his next steps. Mustafa was to have called forty minutes ago and he still hadn’t. Aziz wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was unlike Mustafa to not do something he said he would. Aziz walked to the far end of the building, facing north. He moved the canvas out of the way, so he could look down the Mall. He could see the eastern part of the Constitution Center that wasn’t blocked by the Visitor’s Center, which was located directly between them. He didn’t like what he saw.

Aziz could see police units had surrounded the entrance. The police would move in a matter of minutes to capture the team and the team wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. The men who initiated the escape had more than likely told the police that they didn’t believe there were any more weapons, and since Soroush and Naseem knew how to arm the explosives, they had decided only to arm them at a later point to ensure none of them went off prematurely. He really hoped Mustafa would call since he needed his advice. They had never planned for this happening.

“One! One! This is three. We’ve got a problem.”

What could it be now, Aziz wondered as he turned away from the window?

Chapter Seventy-Two

Mustafa and his team were back at the secured door, just as they had been earlier. He assumed the guards had rotated and someone else would monitor the camera as he inserted his key and opened the door. They quickly moved inside and packed the cloth wrapped dies they had earlier pulled off the shelf. In the Engraver’s room of the U.S. Mint, a team of men and women designed, carved and manufactured the dies that stamped the coinage for the United States Monetary system. With these dies and the ability to purchase the right metals, one could duplicate the coins used everyday. Flooding the market with excess coins could have a devastating effect on the economy.

The attempt had been made in the past to either counterfeit or steal the printing plates for the paper currency used in The United States. But, with the advent of the new designs for the major bills, it had become almost impossible to pull off credible bill duplication in the numbers necessary to cause a problem.

Coinage in the United States had not dramatically changed in years. It was such a standard and people were so used to it, even efforts to introduce new coins — such as the Sacagawea dollar coin — had failed to be adopted by the American public. Merchants didn’t inspect counterfeit coins, as they did with currency. When Jerome first told Mustafa what he wanted, Mustafa had laughed and thought Jerome was crazy. After he heard the entire plan, Mustafa found Jerome a genius since according to Jerome, there were many places in the world where he could set up shop and mint coins without any interference. He’d also figured out an ingenious way to get the coins back into the U.S. Everything was focused on dirty bombs and drugs at ports of entry.

Mustafa would be a rich man by the end of the day. He just needed to deliver the dies and the engravers to Jerome and the Cayman Islands bank account he’d opened would be filled. It would be enough to last a life time when he included the money he’d held back from the Iranians when he’d decided to switch masters. Life would be good.

“Everything is packed, Mustafa. We’re ready to go when you are.”

The shelves were nearly empty and the carts were even heavier. After they placed the various dies in the carts, the men had opened up more bags of dirty rags to throw over the top and fill the carts.

Mustafa inspected the room carefully, to ensure they hadn’t left anything. He looked at each of the carts and made sure nothing was visible that would give them away. “Okay, the plan is the same. We’ll move toward the back door. Hopefully, we can get through the guard. It may still be Johnny. Those guards don’t rotate as often but, this time though, when we go out the door, you will head toward the vans. I’ll stay on the dock. When you have everything loaded, I’ll take care of the guard and open the gate. We will have to move quickly and get out. Everyone has their route, so make sure you follow it. No mistakes, no changes and you must not stop anywhere.”

They all muttered in the affirmative to Mustafa.

“Let’s go.”

He opened the door and the men moved their carts out to the corridor. They didn’t encounter anyone and as they rounded the last corner, Mustafa saw that Johnny was still at his post.