by Laura Scott
“Shut up or I’ll shoot you in the belly right now.”
The woman stopped crying.
There were more jostling movements as the two men negotiated her up and into the back of the ambulance. Mustaf could feel the gurney move as she was set on top of it.
“Do as you’re told and you’ll live. Continue fighting and we’ll kill you and the kid you’re carrying. Understand?”
“Yes.” The woman’s voice was a mere whisper.
There was a loud noise as the back of the ambulance was shut, and within minutes, the vehicle was moving again.
Despite his discomfort, Mustaf smiled.
The pregnant woman would assist them in getting through the roadblock without a problem.
Maybe these men weren’t as useless as he’d thought. He might make it back to Syria after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
September 11 – 5:30 a.m. – Washington, DC
Jordan awoke when his cell phone rang. He felt around for his phone, then squinted at the number.
Yates. This couldn’t be good.
“Rashid,” he whispered so as not to wake Diana and Bryn.
“A pregnant woman was taken from a rest station roughly two hours ago.” Yates got straight to the point. “When we sent out the word to the checkpoints, one of the cops admitted to letting an ambulance through carrying a pregnant woman who was unusually silent as they checked the vehicle.”
Jordan felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. “Mustaf got away.”
“I believe so.” Yates paused, then added, “Not only did we let an innocent woman and her unborn child get kidnapped, I’m very much afraid we’ll never find him.”
He glanced over to where Diana and Bryn were sleeping. Easing away, he made his way into the bathroom where he could talk without disturbing them. “They have to be taking him to an airport.”
“I already have them all on high alert,” Yates said wearily. “But that hasn’t stopped them so far, has it? You were right about the ambulance, but they got through anyway. Who knows what tactics they’ll use to fly him out of here?”
“Only because they’re heartless enough to use a pregnant woman.” He felt sick at the thought of the poor woman being found dead when she was no longer needed. “How could we have anticipated something like that?”
Yates didn’t answer. Jordan sighed, knowing it was Yates’s job to do just that. Anticipate every possibility. He felt bad for the guy, knowing how much pressure he must be under.
“Any idea where the strike will take place?” Yates asked.
Jordan sighed. “No. Any or all of the monuments could be potential targets.”
“There has to be a way to stop this.” Yates sounded desperate. Jordan could relate.
“We’re trying our best.” He thought back to the bombs Elam had made, the one with the odd row of flowers design that stuck out as different from the rest. “You should know that Sun took out a man named Tariq Omar Haram Shekau at our last safe house. He is high up on your terrorists watch list.”
“When and where?” Yates asked with sharp interest.
He filled the FBI director in on the details of how Sun had taken out Tariq. “I went back to search for the trigger for the bombs but didn’t find it.”
“Which means it’s still out there,” Yates said in a grim tone. “You need to find it.”
“I know.” Too bad he didn’t have a single workable clue.
“Getting Tariq might be the only bright spot in this whole fiasco. Call me as soon as you know something.”
“I will.” Jordan disconnected from the call. Since he was up, he quickly used the facilities and showered, feeling slightly more human when he emerged fifteen minutes later.
Diana and Bryn hadn’t moved. For a moment he gazed down, watching them sleep. He thought about what Tariq had said about none were innocent and he’d kill them all.
But he was wrong. Kids were innocent. They didn’t deserve to be used as bait, or worse, murdered. He thought of his mother, the way she’d taken him to the amusement park when he was young. The same way he’d planned to take Bryn.
In that moment it clicked. The row of flowers bomb Elam had made was something he’d seen before at the carousel in the amusement park.
No. Was that really possible? Would Tariq have cold-bloodedly planted bombs at a local amusement park?
He pulled out his phone and called Sun. “Bring the sat computer in ASAP.”
“Okay.” She sounded sleepy.
He paced the length of the room, waiting impatiently until Sun tapped lightly at the door. He pulled it open and gestured for Sun to come inside.
“What time is it?” Diana asked groggily from the bed.
“Early.” He took the computer and waited impatiently for the device to pick up a signal. Then he typed in amusement parks in DC, and his heart dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized there were several.
“What are you looking for?” Sun asked, leaning over his shoulder.
“That row of flowers design Elam made might be something from one of those merry-go-round rides.” He pulled up each amusement park’s website until he found two of them that had carousel rides. “Like a border that might be on the sit-down section or on one of the horses.”
At least there were only two parks with merry-go-rounds. He glanced up at Sun. “Get Elam, hurry. We need him to tell us which one of these is the target.”
Sun nodded and slipped out of the hotel room. Diana crossed over to him, running her fingers through her tousled hair. “You found something?”
“Maybe.” He couldn’t say for sure, but it all seemed to make sense.
Diana glanced at the image on the screen and paled. “No. He wouldn’t.”
“Why not? Didn’t he tell you none are innocent and he’d kill them all?” Jordan felt certain he was on the right track. “What would the country see as a worse attack than nine eleven? Killing our children. That’s what.”
“Dear Lord in Heaven,” Diana whispered.
He silently agreed.
“Wait, though,” Diana said with a frown. “I thought we were working with a timeline that indicated the attack would take place at eight thirty-nine in the morning, about the same time as when the first plane hit the tower? These parks don’t open until eleven a.m. on weekdays.”
She had a point. “But they open at ten on Saturdays.” Today was a Saturday. He felt a flash of excitement. “The plane that was headed for Washington, DC, the one the passengers caused to crash in Pennsylvania. What time was that?”
“I don’t remember.”
He’d already googled the information. “The plane crashed at 10:07 a.m.”
Diana sucked in a harsh breath, and they both stared at each other for a long moment. The good news was they had a lead and possibly extra time to work with. They’d find a way to convince Yates to shut it down.
The bad news was that if they were wrong about the amusement park location, or didn’t find the bombs in time, far too many young innocent lives would be lost.
* * *
September 11 – 6:17 a.m. – Richmond, VA
“Let her go, we don’t need her anymore.”
Mustaf had remained lying beneath the gurney for far too long. Pain was his constant companion, and listening to the woman silently weeping for the past few hours hadn’t helped.
“Kill her,” he said.
The two fake paramedics ignored him. The ambulance had come to a halt, and he heard the back door open. The vehicle moved as someone jumped out the back.
“Please don’t hurt me or my baby,” the woman begged.
“Get out here, now.”
More movement of the vehicle as she was taken out through the back. Mustaf struggled to extricate himself from beneath the gurney, no easy feat as there wasn’t a lot of room to work with.
And wave over wave of pain made his vision blurry.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Mustaf loo
ked up at the fake paramedic looming over him. Had he blacked out? He seemed to have lost a few minutes. “Did you kill her?”
“Get up, old man.” The paramedic sat back without offering to help. “We’re late for our appointment at the airport.”
The driver slid behind the wheel and started the ambulance. Within seconds, they were headed back on the interstate.
Mustaf managed to get up off the floor and back onto the gurney. He tried to look through the back window but couldn’t see any sign of the woman.
“If you didn’t kill her, she’ll point you out to the police.”
The fake paramedic shook his head. “I don’t think so. I took her driver’s license and told her I know where she and her husband live.”
Mustaf closed his eyes, finding some comfort in being on the gurney compared to the ambulance floor.
He would have preferred no witness left at all, but it wouldn’t matter. By the time the police found these two idiots, he’d be safely in the air on his way back to Syria.
Where he belonged.
* * *
September 11 – 6:46 a.m. – Washington, DC
“Which one is it?” Jordan asked impatiently.
Diana put a warning hand on his arm, knowing that Elam was doing his best. The poor guy looked scared to death at the way Jordan was glaring at him.
Elam had gone back and forth between the two websites, zooming in on the photos to get a better look. It seemed to be taking forever, so she understood Jordan’s impatience.
Still, it was better to get the right answer than a forced guess.
“I believe this one.” He lightly tapped the screen over the first website Jordan had pulled up. From what Diana could tell, it was the larger of the two amusement parks.
“You believe or you know?” Jordan asked in a testy tone.
Elam regarded him steadily. “I believe. I cannot say for sure without seeing the carousel up close. The flowers need to be exact, yes? If they’re not exactly right, it could be the wrong one.”
“Jordan, maybe we just have both parks closed as a precaution,” Diana said softly. “At least there wouldn’t be casualties.”
“If I can convince Yates one or both of these are the actual targets.” Jordan sighed.
Diana felt a warning chill skip down her spine. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because we need proof.” Jordan waved at Elam. “And all we have is a definite maybe.”
“Let’s get over there and see if we can find any of the devices ourselves,” Diana suggested. “If we find one, then it’s a no-brainer that Yates will close the parks.”
“It’s going to take time to get there, and what if we’ve picked the wrong one?” Jordan’s voice was tense with the weight of responsibility he carried. “Not to mention the places are huge. We could look for hours and not find one of the devices.”
“Then stop wasting time,” Sun said. “Let’s go. You can contact Yates along the way, warn him of the danger. He may just go ahead and shut them down.”
“Bryn and I are ready to go.” Diana glanced over as Bryn emerged from the bathroom.
“Can we get something to eat on the way?” her daughter asked. “I’m hungry.”
Diana was relieved that Bryn had gotten some sleep and was feeling hungry again. She didn’t delude herself that the effects of the kidnapping had already faded, but maybe Bryn was finding a way to move forward.
“I’d rather you and Bryn stay here.” Jordan glanced at Sun. “You could stay with them again.”
“Jordan, you need more than two people to search the park,” Diana protested. “And we’re going to get Yates to shut them down, so the danger will be minimal.”
Jordan’s gaze clashed with hers, naked fear in his eyes. “If something happens to you or Bryn . . .”
“It won’t.” She hoped.
“She’s right in that we need all the help we can get,” Sun pointed out. “Maybe we can get the local authorities to assist as well.”
Jordan sighed. “Fine, let’s hit the road.”
Diana caught one last glimpse of the amusement park website before Sun closed the satellite computer. She shivered, thinking of the dire possibilities.
Giving herself a mental shake, she silently prayed to God for wisdom and guidance so that no children would die today.
Please, God, not children.
* * *
September 11 – 6:58 a.m. – Washington, DC
His plan was to arrive at the airport early, hoping to get word on Mustaf’s reaching his destination so that the money would be transferred into his offshore account. He wanted to be on his flight and out of DC for good.
If traffic wasn’t so awful, he’d already be at the airport. But thanks to the roadblocks, things were moving even slower than usual.
What was taking so long anyway? Mustaf should have arrived in Richmond, Virginia, by now. He’d expected a call confirming his arrival before now.
But he hadn’t heard a thing from either of his contacts. Not the one paying him for making Mustaf’s travel arrangements or the other contact, keeping him informed of the impending terrorist attack.
He smacked the steering wheel with frustration. Soon, very soon, his absence at the task force meetings would be noticed. And while he’d booked his travel arrangements under a false identity, he needed to be long gone before they began looking for him.
If Yates really had suspected him, it wouldn’t take them long to flash his photograph all over the news. And Yates had the power to get his photo into the hands of every blasted TSA agent of every airport within a one-hundred-mile radius.
Another reason he’d hoped to get to the airport early. If he didn’t get there soon, there was a stronger risk that his photo ID would be flagged.
His phone rang, startling him. It was one of his contacts. “Yes?”
“I need you to meet me at the amusement park.”
What? That wasn’t part of the plan. “Why? I thought you had everything under control.”
“Yes, but there has been an unanticipated problem. I need you here, now.”
No way. He wasn’t going. “That’s impossible. I’m needed elsewhere.”
“Oh, I think you will come. Mustaf hasn’t reached his destination yet and won’t unless you do as I say. I need you here. Do not disappoint.” His contact ended the call.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel with a rare flash of panic. He didn’t like it. Mustaf should have been at his destination, and things should be progressing as planned. He’d done his part, hadn’t he?
But if he ignored his directive, he’d never get the rest of his money. And he didn’t trust these creeps not to turn him in.
This detour would be cutting things close, but there was still time. He’d have to find a way to make time. Cursing under his breath, he exited the freeway so he could turn and head in the opposite direction.
This thing needed to be finished once and for all.
* * *
September 11 – 7:02 a.m. – Washington, DC
“The president would like to see you.” Yates had just returned from the bathroom and eyed the Secret Service agent standing in front of him through red bloodshot eyes. After spending the entire night in the office, he was in no condition to meet with the president, but then again, saying no wasn’t an option.
“Of course.” He ran a hand over his stubbly chin. At least he looked as if he’d been working hard.
Too bad he didn’t have much of anything to show for it. A missing and likely dead pregnant woman, Mustaf’s escape, and no location for the terrorist attack.
He glanced down at the conference room where the task force was beginning to assemble. He paused and poked his head inside. “I’m meeting with the president, stay here until I’m finished.”
The task force members eyed each other warily. “Sure thing,” Geoff North said. “Sounds like you have updates for us.”
Not enough of an update, Yates thought sourly as he left the
building with his detail. Not nearly enough to prevent another terrorist attack from taking place right under their noses.
* * *
September 11 – 7:13 a.m. – Washington, DC
“Yates isn’t answering his phone.” Jordan couldn’t believe Yates wasn’t answering his calls, even though he’d used the guy’s personal cell phone. The number only five people had, including the president. He hoped that this was only temporary and that Yates would respond as soon as he was able.
If someone within the task force had gotten to Yates, they were in deep, deep trouble.
“Did you leave a message?” Diana asked.
“Two of them.” He slid the phone into his pocket, trying to calm his racing heart. There was still time. The amusement park wouldn’t open for a while yet.
He bowed his head and prayed that God would show them the way. They had to get there in time to find what they needed and to shut the place down.
They just had to.
“Traffic’s worse than usual,” Sun said from behind the wheel. She’d insisted on driving as she claimed she’d gotten more sleep than he had and that he needed to focus on getting in touch with Yates.
Usually he preferred to drive, maybe going back twelve years to the car crash that had occurred when Diana was driving them away from the explosion. The crash that had sent him to the hospital and had taken Diana from him forever. Or so he’d been told.
It was a testament to how exhausted he was that he simply didn’t care about letting Sun drive. All he wanted was for Yates to respond to his calls.
“Don’t forget to get us something to eat,” Bryn reminded him.
He managed a crooked smile. “I won’t. Sun? When you find a fast-food restaurant close to the exit, we’ll need to grab something.”
“There’s one up ahead about three miles. I’d prefer to use the drive-through.”
“Fine.” Normally Jordan wouldn’t stop at all, but traveling with an eleven-year-old meant you couldn’t ignore basic needs.
And he wouldn’t mind coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.