IRRITATED ABOUT BEING IN the right place at the wrong time, Ashley mulled over yesterday’s fiasco in Roswell. A chance to reconnect with her suspect had turned into a humiliating failure. If she had arrived a day or even a few hours earlier, she might have linked up with him. Clenching her teeth, she wondered how much had to go wrong before something good happened. Yes, she discovered one barrel missing out of a total of sixty. A positive discovery, at last, but why such an elaborate delivery system? What's so important about one small barrel or more to the point– what’s in the damn barrel? She didn't know, but she knew it wasn't honey.
She carried the toolbox she appropriated from Smith Trading upstairs to Bill Johnson. It held tools that most likely had fingerprints on them. If prints were lifted from the tools in this box, she might finally experience that 'something good' she needed. When Ashley entered Bill's office, she found him with his feet on the desk, head back and eyes closed. Ashley dropped the heavy plastic toolbox in the center of his cluttered desk with a loud thump. Bill opened one eye.
"You know," Ashley said, "one of the few things you can get fired for in Federal service is sleeping on-the-job." She plopped down in a chair next to his desk.
"I'm not sleeping." He opened the other eye. "I'm thinking. That's what they pay me for. I'm too old to do real work."
"Real work? Like what?"
He let his feet fall to the floor and sat up. "Like putting the cuffs on some asshole who needs to learn respect for the law."
"Your cuffs are in the drawer, but you still make it possible for other agents to use their cuffs, often."
Bill removed his glasses and adjusted his hearing aids. "I hate people who pity old folks." He winked at Ashley and replaced his glasses. "So what the hell is this?' He pointed at the toolbox. "You taking up carpentry in your spare time?"
Ashley leaned forward, "Based on the warrant you sent me yesterday, I found this box and it got me excited. I’m sure our suspect has handled these tools. I have to admit my expectations are aroused."
A twinkle flashed in Bill’s eyes. "I love it when you talk dirty." He then yanked a drawer open and pulled out a pair of thin rubber gloves. "I'll bag these items and have the print-guys go over them.” He pulled his glasses halfway down his nose, and tilted his head. "Did you get the word about the videoconference downstairs? It has to do with your case."
Still enjoying Bill's ‘talking dirty’ joke, Ashley nodded her head.
Bill shoved his glasses back up his nose. "Old Ed Delong will run it. The director himself. I understand it has to do with an intelligence break-through."
Ashley stuck her thumb up. "Maybe things are coming together?"
THE PRESIDENT appointed Ed Delong to serve as the Director of the FBI because his background and experience proved his ability to manage a complex agency with evenhanded discipline, and little or no tolerance for failure. While politically loyal, when it came to law enforcement he was a lawman one hundred percent.
"Are we ready?" Delong asked.
The video technician answered, "Yes, sir. Albuquerque will come on line any second now."
Delong placed his unlit cigar on the table and regarded the assembled participants who sat in a semi-circle facing the wall-sized video screen. "Okay people, so I can move along, and not waste time here's my agenda for this morning. I'll start with introductions followed by a brief summary of our plan, then open the meeting for discussion. Any questions?"
Admiral Smithy asked, "How much do your people in Albuquerque know about this case?"
"They originated the case and made significant discoveries locally before we knew the true scope of this threat. Based on your work at the NSA, Admiral, this is no longer a murder investigation in the deserts of New Mexico. But to answer your question, they don't know about the seventh message or the infiltration plan. I held that back for security purposes.”
Smithy nodded his approval.
At that moment, the video screen brightened showing four faces, well-tanned by the New Mexico sun. Delong straightened his tie. "Good morning, Mr. Kent. I'll introduce our panel, then brief you on our plan of action followed by a Q and A. To my left is Admiral Henry Smithy, head of NSA and Leo Adornetto, Director of National Intelligence. On my right is Mike Johansson and Rashid al Youris, who you know." Delong moved his notes to see them better. "Three days ago Admiral Smithy and his NSA team, with the help of Doctor Youris, received and decoded the last of a series of seven messages. As we speak I'm sending number seven to you on a secure line. Based on this new information we know three conspirators will meet in El Paso tomorrow, Thursday. The purpose of the meeting is to train your suspect to perform an act of terror. The nature of the act is unknown."
Delong eyed the Albuquerque crew. Except for Bill Johnson, they looked about as comfortable as a cat on a raft in white water. "We’ve identified these conspirators as technical experts. It’s essential that we learn the nature of their mission. To do that, we have devised a plan to infiltrate this Team of Deliverance, as they call themselves. Johansson here," he pointed at Mike," calls our plan Operation Full Moon. You'll understand why when you read message seven...and, oh yes, Mike named your un-sub the Lone Wolf, for obvious reasons."
Walter Kent squirmed in his seat. Ashley's tried to appear calm, but failed. Dorothy Hogan adjusted her audio recorder, and Bill Johnson sanded his fingernails with a plastic file.
"What I'm about to tell you is confidential. Lives are at stake." He shoved his notes aside and looked at them through the camera lens. "Doctor Youris speaks several languages and is Muslim. He has volunteered to assume the identity of one of their team members. The details are in my report to you. This group of co-conspirators will gather in El Paso tomorrow, but the actual meeting will take place Friday somewhere else." Delong picked up his cigar, inspected it, then put it in his mouth. "Any questions?"
Finally free to speak, Walter Kent began. "First, I would like to thank you for the work you have done in support of this case. We knew we were dealing with a serious situation, but we didn't know the depth of this threat." Ashley started to speak, but Kent squeezed her hand under-the-table and gave her a quick shake of the head. "I understand a Joint Terrorism Task Force will be formed. What is the JTTF status?"
Johansson in DC spoke up. "I can answer that." He turned and addressed Kent. "Excellent question. I have formed a task force and will deploy it when needed. I'll keep you informed."
"Thank you, Mr. Johansson. Meanwhile I'll strengthen our team in Albuquerque.”
Bill Johnson gazed at the DC panel. "Ed, a couple of weeks back I sent a human hair sample to DC for a DNA analysis. Today I'm sending you some fingerprints I believe belong to Mr. Wolf. Considering the importance of this case, could you speed the lab work for the DNA and the data search for matching prints?"
"Because this request comes from you, Bill, and because we used to work the streets together, I will personally see to it."
"Thanks, old buddy." Bill went back to sanding his nails.
At full attention, Ashley said, "I understand the need to keep tight security. Our suspect is not your everyday suicide bomber. He’s brilliant, well trained and ruthless. He makes plans for every eventuality, and so far has stayed a step ahead of us at every turn. If we are to stop him, we need to know what you know when you know it."
Kent interrupted. "This is Agent Ashley Kohen. She's the Lead Investigator on this case. Very dedicated, sir."
Delong pulled his cigar out of his mouth and held it next to his face. "I can tell she's dedicated. Nothing wrong with that. Agent Kohen, I'm personally invested in this case. You will know what we know as soon as it’s appropriate."
"Yes sir. I meant no disrespect. I'm still frustrated. I missed picking up his trail by only a few hours yesterday."
"A few hours. Tell me about that."
"The Lone Wolf received a shipment of barrels in Roswell. He unloaded the cargo container while I interviewed Bashir Hashim in El Paso. When I returned the next day, the container was gone. I discovered one barrel missing from the shipment."
Rashid perked up. "Excuse me. You said shipment. The sixth message referred to a shipment. This may explain that reference. Give us details about what you learned."
"In Roswell, a city with hundreds of beekeepers serving the pecan groves, the Lone Wolf received a cargo container with 60 barrels of honey. It originated in Dubai. I found only fifty-nine barrels off loaded."
"That’s important," Admiral Smithy noted. "Dubai is a major port for middle eastern goods. Honey is a popular commodity. A clever choice if you want to smuggle something into our country. Sixty barrels would be almost impossible to inspect at the port of entry. It probably passed through with little or no scrutiny."
Adornetto, silent until now, asked, "The question is what fits in a receptacle that size and still poses a threat to us?" No one spoke for a few seconds. Delong drew a big question mark on his notes. Admiral Smithy's expression remained grim.
Youris glanced at Johansson, who gave him a thumbs up gesture. With a hopeful expression, Rashid looked around the room. "Perhaps I'll have an answer to that question come Saturday night."
AS SOON AS THE Washington briefing ended, Ashley downloaded Director Delong's report, and the seventh decrypted message. Both Kent and Johnson reviewed the information with her. "The background profiles of Kosloff and Suri describe them as men with menacing underworld ties," Ashley said. "Maloof is not in the same league with them,"
Kent crossed his arms. "Kosloff and Suri will never leave America, at least not alive."
Johnson agreed. “With our task force primed and ready, you may be sure we'll pounce on them after their meeting Saturday. The Lone Wolf is another matter. We’ll watch his every move until he is disarmed or should I say–defanged."
Ashley grinned. "You do have a way with words, Bill. And, speaking of words, I must call Jerry Cebeck in El Paso and alert him to the arrival of our special guests tomorrow."
WHEN CEBECK RECEIVED the call from Ashley, he had finished eating the last piece of stale pizza left over from the night before. It had rained all morning, driving the humidity up. He needed a shower and clean clothes.
"Good morning, Jerry," Ashley said.
"What's good about it?"
"You don't sound happy."
"Happy? Happy is a one of the seven dwarfs. At least Happy had six friends."
Ashley heard frustration in Jerry's voice. She'd worked a few solo stakeouts in the past and understood the feeling. "Well cheer up, Snow White will rescue you. There have been some major developments."
Jerry grunted, "About time."
"I'm sending you Joe and Fred as backup. You'll need them. Three important bad guys are heading your way starting tomorrow. They’ll arrive at Bashir's doorstep, most likely at different times. Our information says they will leave Bashir's house and go to an unknown meeting location with the Lone Wolf. You need to follow them and keep us informed."
“Who's the Lone Wolf?"
"He's the same guy who blows up motor homes. Do you have a secure connection?"
"Yes. The El Paso Field Office arranged that."
"Good, I'll send you details."
Jerry’s voice sounded a bit brighter. "This explains it."
"Explains what?"
"Yesterday Bashir showed up with a new car from Hertz Rental. A Chevy Suburban equipped with two cargo carriers mounted on top. He must be planning a trip."
"It sounds like your special skills are needed. Is the Bug Man alive and well?"
"He will be...tonight."