Surrept (11 page)

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Authors: Taylor Andrews

Tags: #Women Sleuths, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Surrept
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Matt hits his client with the come to Jesus pitch. "Look Reggie, I cannot help you unless you get down and tell me the whole story, like you never told me that you were a veteran and served forty-nine months in the Army in Iraq and Afghanistan. It's things like that can help me help you. You have got to come at me straight Reggie."

Reggie looks down as he thinks. "I've been a veteran since I'm thirteen, right here in five points, man. The guns are just bigger over there and you don't get no time for taking care of business. Shit man, they give you medals for putting work in." He stares at his attorney intensely. "What do you need to know, because if you know about that, then you have put two and two together and know where I got the dope from, right Mr. C.?"

"I didn't for sure until just now, but now we know why Freddie the Fed has come to play in your sandbox, and that can help us with our strategy in getting you a lot less time."

Reggie leans back in his chair and stretches to prepare for this come to Jesus event with Matt that he is about to have. "Okay, Mr. C., this is what it is . . ."

***

It is the next day across the world in Islamabad, Pakistan, an eleven-hour time difference.

In the middle of the city, the minaret glows with light in a small mosque. A cleric descends the stairs in its tower after the prayers he recited from above in the desert night. The cleric enters a room with an ancient world map on a large table where he has several small hourglasses sitting on the map. He turns them each as they run out of sand. The strategically placed hourglasses sit on the map table, like men on a chessboard. Each piece marking their targets: London, Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego, New York, Washington D.C., Philadelphia, Miami, Cleveland, Chicago, Denver, Dallas, Austin, Seattle, Portland, Minneapolis and Atlanta.

Each hourglass has small stones sitting around it on other cities.

Chapter Eight

The next morning in Colorado, the sun peaks through the clouds that cover the Denver skyline as commuters rush to their destinations in the chill. It is seven-thirty. A young Middle Eastern man enters an RTD bus wearing a backpack. He looks like a student en route to school.

Another Middle Eastern man boards another RTD bus in Arvada at the transfer station and another enters at the Mile High transfer station across from Invesco Field stadium near Federal Avenue.

Downtown at the Greyhound bus depot two men and a young woman, all of Middle Eastern decent, enter buses bound for different destinations. They all are carrying bags onto the buses.

Another woman dressed in traditional Islamic garb crosses the pedestrian bridge at Englewood station wearing sunglasses and a drab long coat and gloves. She looks around the staging area platform as she awaits her Metro train to downtown Denver.

The train arrives, and Adriana Pucci boards, dressed in traditional Islamic garb, with the other commuters. She finds a seat near the window so she may leave her bag under the seat as she departs the train in nine stops. The train speeds off.

Ahmed looks out the window as the Denver landscape passes and wonders about the hundreds of others across the country and Europe that are about to commit the same acts as he is about to commit in about twelve minutes.

His mind dances with images of carnage and suffering that are about to take place and his stomach is turned by his thoughts. He closes his eyes and tries to picture images of his family and their suffering. But he cannot escape the focus of the task before him.

Adriana hears the announcement over the public address system of the Metro that she is at the next stop. She slides her bag under the seat and gets up to depart. The train doors open and she exits as the train pulls away.

Ahmed looks at his watch and gets up as the train doors open. He pulls a cord in the bag he left under his seat as he departs the Metro car. Ahmed makes his way out of the train with his head down. The train doors close and he hears the screams of the passengers as the choking gas fills the cabin of the train. He walks quickly and disappears into the city movement.

***

Back at the Middle Eastern Deli, Omar and Kari are working in the store and hear the sounds of sirens and the wail of emergency vehicles racing down Colfax in the front of the store. Omar moves toward the window sensing something serious has occurred. An early customer joins Omar and watches as the vehicles race by.

Across town, Dana has just arrived at her ground floor office. She hears the sirens screaming by and she looks outside, not knowing that her life has just changed forever as the worst attack on the United States unfolds.

Ahmed walks slowly to not draw attention, knowing that his original plan made while he was still in England has just been unleashed on an entire nation and abroad. Ahmed arrives at the delivery van and looks around to check if he has been detected. He unlocks the door and climbs in.

Ahmed removes his ball cap and wig and grabs the clipboard to see where his first delivery is. He starts the van, and drives away as emergency vehicles rush past him.

Just eleven blocks away, Adriana Pucci gets into her car as she watches police with gas masks board a bus in the middle of the street. She removes her head cover and wig and adjusts her hair in the mirror. Adriana pulls away from the curb as the world around her is in chaos. She enters the I-25 freeway southbound toward the ad agency offices.

***

Across the nation, the Department of Homeland Security building is buzzing with activity and with helicopter traffic. The Operation Pot Luck team arrives for an emergency meeting under red alert status ordered by the Secretary of Defense, under orders from the president of the United States.

The White House is completely surrounded. The layers of security vehicles and personnel is unprecedented.

The Capitol building is evacuated and secured. The security details have relocated most all of the legislative leaders to a secret location in Virginia. Special Forces and National Guard troops surround the Pentagon.

Inside the briefing room of the Homeland Security building, the Operation Pot Luck team has assembled and the room is quiet as Homeland Security Director Karen Satriano enters, her face is cold and expressionless as she sits down.

She looks down as she speaks. "I just got off the phone with the White House, and we are all expected there this afternoon at fourteen-thirty hours to report and debrief the president on the largest attack in our history upon American soil." She looks around the room as if disgusted at them as well as herself. "Gentlemen, we knew this was coming and we were unable to stop it. We failed our country. We know we are faced with the task of not allowing this to happen ever again, and who knows, that could be occurring at this moment and we seemingly are helpless to defend against it." She stares at those gathered. "The events of the past three hours have proven that we are defenseless against such heinous attacks."

Karen Satriano looks at the FBI's assistant director. "Kevin, I am going to ask one time; what exactly does the FBI have on these events that have spanned our entire country as of right now, and I mean all of it, for the record and on the record."

Kevin Anderson holds a large file and opens it as he begins his debriefing. "The attacks occurred in concert in twenty-two United States cities and London, spanning from coast to coast at precisely oh-six-hundred hours eastern standard time. These attacks were well planned, and executed in unison. The attacks were designed to result in maximum fatalities. This attack targeted the prime commuter population nationwide. All of the attacks occurred within seventeen minutes of each other simultaneously, across the United States." He scans their faces.

"It is our belief that the attackers all used the same weapons delivery systems now identified as a chemical gas release on all types of public commuter transportation, targeting the general public."

"There are presently—as of eleven in the morning eastern standard time—five thousand two hundred twenty-three confirmed fatalities, eleven thousand seven hundred nine injuries and seventy-one percent of those are now to be considered critical. We are receiving data by the minute and the math is growing. We have six suspects confirmed dead due to their participation in these attacks, who had become victims of their own acts, and we suspect others could be presently hospitalized.

"One suspect died in custody in New York city due to an oral consumption of granules that have been deemed to be a household drain cleaner, which he ingested at the point of apprehension, prior to being restrained. This incident occurred as the male suspect was taken into custody by transit authority officers while still in the field. We have two other suspects in custody, one in San Francisco, and the other in Philadelphia. The fatalities are sure to grow and our assessment is expected to increase by at least fifty percent by tomorrow this time."

Kevin Anderson scans the quiet room again. "The preliminary findings on the source of the gas seemed to be manufactured easily through the mixture and combinations of household cleaning products used worldwide, that when combined, create a highly caustic and potentially lethal gas. The modus operandi for the attacks is identical in nature. The suspects entered each venue as commuters, and all detonated their devices or left them for detonation by timer, causing a calculated chemical reaction that witnesses all concur happened when the suspects walked away from their carry-on baggage and or parcels."

"Included in these attacks were sixteen subway terminal areas, twenty-six commuter bus stations, thirty-nine commuter transfer facilities and twenty-two individual subway and/or commuter trains nationwide. We are experiencing an epic volume of calls and tip information by the public. There is an overall general pandemic of panic throughout the nation and Great Britain, and we are presently awaiting the European statistics."

"We have also confirmed that there were twenty-three law enforcement and first responder rescue fatalities and nine service men or women were among those fatalities as well. All suspects were of Middle Eastern descent, or African nationals, according to witnesses and those apprehended, who are now considered suspected, not verified enemy combatants."

The room is quiet as the assistant FBI director speaks. "In addition, the nation's public transportation systems are most all suspended from operations and the overall economic loss is expected to be devastating to this country. Evidence found at the scenes of the attacks was all similar: carry-on bags that were all treated with various lubricants or other products that we suspect were used to prevent collection of DNA and other evidence. This operation was organized and disciplined."

"We are collecting all videos and photographs of CCTV from all of the sites and the surrounding areas nationwide. The United States attorney general has ordered that all suspects be charged as suspected enemy combatants, conspiracy, and detained without bail. The suspects will be detained under federal custody in three holding facilities across the nation. The suspects shall remain under the control of the FBI and possibly at U.S. military base facilities. The attorney general has suggested one western location, one mid-central, and one eastern." He looks at Leo Matz. "Those detainment facilities are presently being determined as we speak. The Department of Justice and White House attorneys are going to have an answer for us within two hours. As those requests are in the process of review under the statutes and guidelines set forth under the Patriot Act."

The phones buzz, interrupting the assistant FBI director.

Karen Satriano addresses Kevin Anderson. "Line two is for you, Kevin. It's a direct line to the Bureau."

Anderson snatches the phone in front of him. "Anderson." He grabs his pen and begins writing notes as he receives information, "Thanks, Agent Torres."

He hangs up and looks at the faces in the room. "The fatalities have increased by two hundred forty-one, and injuries have escalated by over eleven hundred twenty. The product used on the baggage to deter DNA sampling is apparently automatic transmission fluid used in automobiles mixed with hydrogen peroxide. And the female suspect being held in Philadelphia attempted suicide by hanging herself with the inmate-issue uniform but was not successful."

Leo Matz barks, "How the hell did that happen? Aren't these detainees under constant watch?"

The FBI director says, "Leo, they are all under twenty-four hour watch. That is why she was unsuccessful."

Leo dismisses Anderson's answer. "The transmission fluid technique is a common practice in Iraq and Afghanistan with IEDs used by insurgents and those associated with Al Qaeda. How long, Kevin, before we have tapes and stills available for review? I would like to enter them into image profiling database at Langley as soon as possible."

Anderson looks reluctantly at his CIA peer. "I will request copies and their release from the director and the AG before we leave here, Leo."

Karen Satriano frowns at the FBI director's answer and picks up the phone. "Get the attorney general on the phone now, priority one. This crap ends right now Anderson." Leo Matz smiles at her move to expedite and forego the internal politics.

***

Across the Pacific Ocean, it is fifteen hours ahead in Seoul, Korea. David Bloomfield is sitting in a bar watching CNN news with three of the Kiatsu executives. He has been trying to reach the U.S. for an hour; it is two in the morning Korean time. "Damn it, those recordings are still saying all circuits are busy. What the hell is going on there?"

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