Gaddis Suites, Asyut
Chris moved to one of the lounge chairs in the sitting room, opposite the desk at which Emily and Michael were working. He sat on the edge of the seat and waited a strained moment for the others to turn to face him. Michael could see that Chris’s muscles were tensed. Something in his phone call had clearly put him on alert.
‘That was a friend and former colleague back in the Chicago Field Office. They’re dealing with a major threat against the Fourth of July parade – one of the biggest in the country.’
‘A threat?’ Emily leaned forward in the desk chair.
‘Presumed terrorist attack, specific type unknown. There’ll be tens of thousands of people lining the streets, from dignitaries, politicians and religious leaders to families and children out to celebrate the stars and stripes.’
‘Someone is threatening to attack crowds of children?’ Emily asked incredulously.
‘I’m told that every squad in the division has been tasked to the threat in one way or another. Apparently there are Middle Eastern connections as well.’
The shocking details notwithstanding, it was Emily who asked the necessary question.
‘That’s terrible, Chris. But what does it have to do with us? You made it sound like there was some connection between your phone call and our activities.’
‘There is. Apparently, the group responsible for the threat are identifying themselves as . . . Gnostics.’
‘Gnostics?’ The word fell simultaneously from the lips of husband and wife.
‘Again, I don’t have many details, but the threat’s come from a church claiming to be made up of Gnostic believers. And it’s more than just a local instance. There was an arrest in New York two days ago, some guy with a sniper rifle and a vendetta claiming to be a Gnostic as well.’
‘The “Gnostic terrorist”,’ Michael muttered, his mind flipping back to the news report Gwyth had forced him to watch on the small television in his office the day before. He had laughed incredulously at the ascription when it flashed across the news report’s captions. Could it actually be true?
‘That’s the one,’ Chris affirmed. ‘Apparently he’s connected to what’s going on in Chicago.’
A silence lingered as all three pondered the new information.
‘To my mind, there’s a real chance the activities there are connected to what’s going on here – I mean, how many Gnostic groups can be breaking out into fits of aggression at once?’ Chris probed. ‘It seems too much for coincidence. But I won’t know until I get there.’
‘Get where?’
‘Chicago. They’ve ordered me to fly in and help. It’s my old office, and suddenly they’re in need of someone whose expertise is in predicting terrorist activities from spotty intelligence. That’s been my specialty since I joined up with the Bureau. I’ve been given direct orders to return.’
‘When do you go?’ Michael asked.
‘In about an hour. A helicopter is already on its way from Alexandria to pick me up, and from there I’m on the first Bureau express to the States.’ Chris paused. Part of him wanted simply to stay in the hotel, sip a few cocktails and sleep off some of the pain from his wounded arm. A more important part, however, knew the significance of the call he’d received.
‘You go, see if there’s a connection,’ Emily interjected, ‘but we have to chase up what we’ve got in our hands here.’ Both men turned towards her inquisitively.
‘This Arthur Bell is clearly at the helm of whatever’s going on here in Egypt and London. If there’s even a chance he’s connected to what’s going on in America, it’s all the more important that we find out exactly what he’s up to.’