21

Washington, DC
5:56 PM Sunday, January 18

Frustration nipped at Brynn’s nerves. She looked at her notes spread across the conference table inside the SNAP fulcrum and then glanced up to the whiteboard filled with their theories about Riad’s connection to the three men who had been killed in the last five days.

That fact was the only thing keeping her focused on the mission and not the awkward introduction to Jack’s girlfriend the night before.

Her gaze moved to Director Walsh’s office, where Jack and Garcia were taking a call from the director, who was who-knows-where in a meeting. On a Sunday evening. The only one not working today was Lyla, who Garcia mentioned spent Sundays with her family. At least someone had a life outside of work.

Brynn turned her attention back to the information they had been studying for the last several hours. Somewhere in front of her there had to be a clue. What was it?

“I think I found something.” Kekoa crossed the room from his office. “And just in time.”

Brynn turned to see Jack walk out of Walsh’s office, Garcia behind him. “Sorry that took so long.”

“It’s fine,” Brynn said, avoiding Jack’s gaze. “Everything okay?”

Garcia went to his desk, grabbed something, and then tipped his fingers to the brim of his ball cap as he passed. “See you tomorrow.”

Brynn’s heart leapt in her chest. Tomorrow? She stared at her notes. They hadn’t made any progress and Garcia was leaving for the day?

“Everything is fine.” Jack sat in the chair next to her and looked to Kekoa. “Did I hear you say you found something?”

“Sure did.” Kekoa unrolled his silicon keyboard with a flourish and began typing.

She forced herself to relax, grateful Jack was still ready to work.

“Lyla’s favor came through on Tarek Gamal and Seif El-Deeb.” A second later, the faces of both men appeared on the screen. “The reason I couldn’t find anything on them is because they did not enter the US under their names.” Kekoa typed, pulling up two passport photos. Both photos were of the men, but the names did not match. “Seif El-Deeb entered as Qasim Fadel and Tarek Gamal as Ammar Hammadi.”

Brynn sat forward, a renewed energy pumping through her. “Any significance in those names?”

Kekoa hitched a brow at her. “Family names in the Middle East are passed on for generations. Like hundreds. Trying to narrow down who these names belonged to in order to specifically connect them to El-Deeb and Gamal . . . would take years.”

“Oh.” Brynn sat back. “Yeah, that would be hard.”

“I’m going to assume you’re not testing me.” Kekoa gave her a sideways glance, a tease in his voice. “And I did find something interesting on El-Deeb.”

A new image filled the screen. An older Arab man with gray hair in a long gray galabeya. Next to him were two women, one older and the other younger. Both were smiling and wearing the traditional Egyptian robe, but their galabeyas had ornate gold-and-pink threading that matched their head scarves.

“This is Ibrahim al-Hussan and his wife, Marwa, and their daughter, Heba. Mr. al-Hussan runs a small grocery store in Giza. Their daughter is, or was”—Kekoa’s voice lowered—“married to Seif El-Deeb.”

Jack exhaled. “Is there any reason why Seif El-Deeb would be targeted? Does his family or his wife’s family have any connection to terrorist organizations?”

“I can’t find much on his family. Like I said, the name is very common. The only thing I found on his wife . . .” Kekoa pressed his lips together, looking guilty.

Brynn’s concern grew, afraid not of what he found but how he did it. “What’d you find?”

“Egypt doesn’t carry the same rules regarding health records, and it didn’t take any fancy skills . . .” Kekoa raised his hands, eyes on Brynn. “Promise.”

“Okay.” Brynn nodded.

“Seif El-Deeb’s wife, Heba, is pregnant and the baby’s not healthy.”

The three cups of coffee Brynn had earlier felt like sludge in her stomach. She stared at the photo of the younger woman. It was hard to tell how old she was, but the bright smile and light in her eyes radiated hope.

“Is the baby going to be okay?” Jack’s concern pulled her gaze to him. He glanced over at her, a softness in his eyes, before looking back at Kekoa. “Will they have medical care for the child and mother?”

Kekoa shook his head and shrugged. “From what I can find, the family is not wealthy. Seif El-Deeb worked for Nile Telecom as a support analyst, which I think is like tech support. It seems like a pretty stable job, but he doesn’t make much, and I don’t think they cover insurance like our country does.”

“They don’t.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “And culturally, it would be up to Seif to provide for his wife and child. I can’t imagine the baby’s care when it’s born is going to be cheap.”

“Which might mean Agent Flores was right,” Brynn said, thinking about what the ICE agent said about trafficking. “What if Seif came here to earn money to send back to his wife? Got here and realized it was a scam?”

“He was trafficked,” Jack said, eyes fixed on the photo of Seif El-Deeb. “He was willing to risk it all for his wife and child.”

Brynn shifted, feeling like Jack’s words held a deeper meaning meant only for her. She fought against the memories from the previous night trying to make their way back to her mind. It didn’t matter that she’d almost allowed herself to consider what a future with Jack might look like, he had moved on. And finishing this assignment was what she needed to do to move on too.

“Seif El-Deeb might’ve come here to help his wife and child, but we can’t dismiss that maybe he didn’t.” Brynn glanced between Kekoa and Jack. “Both men entered the US illegally. If they were smuggled here for work, it seems unlikely that whoever secured their fake passports and flights and got them to the house in Clifton suddenly decided to kill them. All of this appears . . . calculated.”

Jack’s eyebrows lowered. “You think they came here for another purpose?”

“If Seif El-Deeb’s intention was to help his wife and child no matter the costs, we need to find out exactly what kind of work he was willing to do.”

A heaviness filled the space, and Brynn watched Jack digest her words. His lips were parting to say something when his cell phone rang, the noise so jarring it caused her to flinch.

“I need to take this,” Jack said, rising and walking into Walsh’s empty office.

Brynn took in a long breath, the tension pulling at every muscle in her body. “I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but any luck on Riad’s laptop?”

Kekoa’s shoulders lowered. “It’s weird. It’s like Egypt doesn’t want anyone hacking into their system and learning their secrets.”

She grinned, appreciating his humor. “That is weird.”

Jack stepped out of the office. “We need to go.”

His dark expression worried her. “What is it?”

“A body has been discovered.” Jack’s gaze found hers. “They think it’s Riad.”

Inside the car, Jack explained that a jogger stumbled on a body assumed to be a homeless man in Rock Creek Park. When Metro police identified Riad, they called Special Agent in Charge Brett Samson, of the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force. He was the one who had phoned Jack and confirmed it was Riad and that he’d been shot.

Shot.

The news made her nauseous and numb, the latter having nothing to do with the frigid temperatures frosting the Tahoe’s windshield. As heat blasted from the vents, her mind played through every interaction she had with Riad. Had he come to the US to find a friend? Was that the favor? Was it more? Was he connected to Seif El-Deeb and Tarek Gamal? Joseph Ansari? The whirling questions had her off-balance, a feeling she didn’t like one little bit.

What is happening?

Her unspoken question lingered in the quiet of her mind as she stared out at the skeletal branches of the trees bowing and swaying in the wind. Longing filled her. What would it be like to be rooted and secured no matter the storm?

After her father was injured, Brynn lived in the insecurity of not knowing what would come next. Her parents told her she couldn’t control the future, but Brynn wanted to be prepared. She poured all her energy and focus into her career, hoping it would allow her to reclaim the balance that had been stolen from her life.

The Tahoe took a left on K Street. Brynn sat forward, realizing they weren’t heading in the direction of the park. “Where are we going?”

“After I spoke with Agent Samson, Walsh called. We’re needed for a meeting.”

“Right now?” Brynn’s eyes flashed to the passing scenery outside the SUV. “What about Riad?”

“He’ll be taken care of.” Jack glanced over. “Everyone out there has a high-level security clearance, and their cooperation in the investigation is specific to the information I gave Agent Samson about the case. When they’re finished, we’ll get the report.”

“And Walsh can’t wait until that’s done to meet? It’s not like we’re going to have anything to offer him.”

“If it were just him, maybe.” Jack pulled up in front of the White House. “But I don’t think anyone here is going to wait.”