The Secretary of State addressed the audience first. “I want to thank all of you for your support, and your unwavering dedication and allegiance to making our nation what it is today. Thanks to all the efforts of each one of you, our country is a much safer place in which to live and prosper.”
She continued speaking regarding the state of world affairs and the troubling situations around the globe with various terrorist organizations, and assured everyone that, “Thanks to the efforts you put forth, we do not need to fear experiencing those same terrible consequences here in our own country.”
Saleem checked his watch. It was past 2:15, and Tariq had not come to check on him. “I guess I’d better go ahead anyway,” he uttered to himself. “I wonder what is keeping him so busy he could not come help me.”
The men’s bathroom was empty, so he removed the ceiling grill from the air vent and lowered himself through the opening. Dropping to the floor, he remained still, listening for anyone that might come into the restroom. When no one did, he moved to the sink and splashed some water on his face, checked himself in the mirror and drew a deep breath.
He brushed the small amount of dust off his checkered sport coat and gray slacks, clipped the plastic identification badge on his jacket breast pocket, and pulled out his gun. After verifying it was loaded, he replaced it in the shoulder holster that Tariq purchased for him. He looked at his watch again. It was time.
Quietly opening the restroom door just enough to check, he saw no one standing anywhere close, and no one seemed to be looking in his direction. He pulled the door wide open and stepped out into the second level area.
He started walking casually, heading for the elevator at the far end of the floor. Hearing the speaker from the floor above, he checked his watch again. 2:22.
Saleem wanted to be standing by the far elevator at the time of the explosion to avoid being caught in the mass destruction he was about to cause. That far away from the blasts, he might survive. He was ready to die serving Allah, but he thought he could serve Allah better if he lived a while longer.
Two men in dark gray pinstriped suits stood by the double door off to the right, talking. They would have looked like twins except that one agent, Alan Malone, had a yellow tie while James Thomas, who everyone called Jimmie because he was the youngest agent in their detail, wore a light blue tie. Malone started over to intercept Saleem, who grimaced, thinking, of course I’m a person to question. No one else is moving around.
“Excuse me, sir,” Malone said as he approached. “FBI.” He opened a small leather case and showed Saleem his credentials. “Most everyone is upstairs where the speakers are. May I see your badge?” He held out his hand.
Oh boy. Here goes the first test. Can he tell my badge is a fake, or did Tariq do a good job? Saleem unclipped his badge and held it out for the man. “I ─ uh ─ I wasn’t feeling well. I’ve been in the bathroom for a few minutes.”
“Okay, sir,” Malone said, looking at the badge. He turned it over. “What is your name, sir?”
Saleem paused. Think, damn it, think. Suddenly he remembered. “Why, I’m Leon Rogers. From Texas, you all.”
Both men smiled.
“Well, Mr. Rogers, may I ask why you were in this restroom, so far from everyone else?”
“I told you. I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t want a lot of other people around me if I started vomiting. It would be embarrassing.”
“Yes, of course.” He handed the badge back. “Are you feeling all right now?”
“Yes. I think I’m okay. I’m going to walk a little, to be sure I’m a bit better. I’ll take the far elevator over there,” he pointed, “to give me a little time.” He smiled again at the FBI man.
Malone reached out and gently took hold of Saleem’s arm next to his shoulder. “You’re sure you’re okay? I can walk with you if you like.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I just want to be sure I’m okay before I sit down with everyone else.”
The agent nodded. “I understand, Mr. ─ Roberts, was it?”
“Rogers. Leon Rogers. From Texas.”
“I understand. Let us know if you need any assistance.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The FBI agent turned and walked back toward the office door where he had been. Saleem held his breath for a few steps, then slowly let it out. He inhaled deeply and tried to calm himself. He turned his head to look back and make sure the FBI agent wasn’t following him.
He saw the two agents standing by the door. Malone, the one who talked to him, was waving his arm and pointing to Saleem. What is he doing? Saleem shrugged, waved back at him and kept walking. As he turned back toward the direction he walked, he spied two more men dressed in suits and ties beside the railing overlooking the vendor area. They stood about forty feet away, with both men watching him.
They continued to watch as he neared them. The taller of the two dropped his arm off the railing and took a step to the side. Nervous, Saleem looked around for a closer elevator. There was none, but he saw the sign for the back stairway off to his right. He angled toward it, glancing back to check on the two men. They just stood there, watching him. He exhaled deeply and whispered thanks to Allah.
Checking his watch, Saleem saw it was 2:32. Time passed so slowly. It seemed like it took him forever to reach the stairway, but now he was there, and it was time.
Retrieving a cell phone from his jacket pocket, Saleem flipped open the cover. The graphic for the phone service provider displayed on the screen. He had memorized the phone number he needed to call, but he had also programmed the number into the contact list ─ in case he became nervous and couldn’t remember it. At this point, he decided he didn’t want to make a mistake being so nervous and dial an incorrect number, so he selected the call list, then highlighted the number he was to call.
He quickly checked his watch one more time. 2:35. Time to call.
“Allah bless me,” he said softly. He pushed the call button. After a few seconds, he heard the number start to ring. He closed his eyes. “Allah, let it be your will.”