by Tim Tigner
Whatever that was.
By my reckoning, we only had hours, maybe minutes to figure that out.
As soon as we released our embrace, I unlocked my phone with a special triple-tap and nervously checked the clandestine recording app. Since the screen remained lifeless, there was no way to tell if it was actually recording. That was the point.
It had.
I checked the first frames. Me in the car. I checked the last frames. Me unlocking the phone, just seconds ago.
“What’s that?” Katya asked.
“A video of everything that just happened. I hope.” I panned through the mini display at the bottom while Katya looked over my shoulder.
“You did a good job of capturing faces, all things considered,” she said. “I had no idea you were recording.”
“The trick was holding the phone in the same hand I used to press the box to Oz’s chest. With that setup, keeping the camera on the action was easy.”
Satisfied with what I’d seen, I started the process of sending the video to the server in the cloud. That would take time, given its size.
With the upload underway, I hit Katya with the big question. “Do you know what their intentions are? What they’re planning to blow up?”
She shook her head, frustration apparent. “Only bits and pieces. I’ve been trying to figure it out. They secretly swapped the trailers of two semitrucks. Both from some farm.”
“Which farm?”
“I don’t know. I only saw it from the road.”
“Do you know how to get there?”
“I’m sorry. Oz kept a bag over my head.”
“No need to apologize. We’ll find some way to figure out where they’re going.”
I’d considered insisting that Oz tell me his plan, but quickly discarded the notion. Ours was already a high-wire negotiation. No sense turning it into a wrestling match as well. Since possession of the medal was what gave me balance, and the medal only mattered to Oz in conjunction with his plan, it was too big a risk. Besides, knowing what a planner he was, I had no doubt that Oz would have a convincing fake story prepared.
Katya cocked her head. “One driver mentioned he was headed to Miami.”
“You spoke to the drivers?”
“On a script. Sabrina was right behind me with her face hidden beneath a hat. And Oz was listening on the phone. But one driver just happened to mention his destination because he was in a hurry and it was a ways to go.”
“That’s good. Did he give any indication where in Miami?”
“No. He just said, ‘I’ve got a hard deadline for reaching Miami.’ ”
Katya went on to describe the roadside stop and how Oz had made use of the headphones.
“So no clues from the other driver?”
“Nothing.”
“Any clues where Oz is going now?”
“They’re leaving the country.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know for certain, but I believe they cleaned out their hideout and loaded their suitcases into the trunk.”
That confirmed the urgency.
I checked my phone. The video upload was complete. I copied the download link and texted it to Vic. Then, while Katya and I walked the beach hand in hand, I called the FBI ASAC on the phone.
“Special Agent Link.”
“Vic. It’s your white knight calling. Did you get my text?”
“I saw a text from a number I didn’t recognize. I’m in a meeting, so I didn’t open it.”
“It’s a video of Oz and Sabrina and their two co-conspirators. Their siblings, Omar and Shakira. It was taken just minutes ago on Stuart Beach, Florida. I think they’re on their way to an airport right now.”
“Which airport?”
My phone started beeping. “My battery is dying. I don’t know which airport. International for sure. Stuart Beach is midway between Cape Canaveral and Miami. Could be Miami, Fort Lauderdale or Orlando. Maybe even Tampa. But in any case, my money is on a private flight.”
“Why?”
“Because they have ninety-two million dollars, and want to fly below the radar.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. That threat you refused to prioritize, it’s going to be happening today in Miami. Actually, there will be two incidents. One in Miami and one someplace else. Or maybe two in Miami. I’m going to work on figuring that out. You need to get teams in place at all of Florida’s international airports, including those with puddle jumpers to the islands. The video is all the justification you’ll need, and it has—” My phone died.
“—their pictures,” I said to myself.
100
Of the Seas
Florida
KATYA KNEW that if she lived to be a hundred, she’d never again feel as relieved as she did at that moment. She was back with Achilles, away from her captors and free of the belt. At least the explosive part. She still had a ring of burlap stuck to her skin. She couldn’t keep her fingers off it.
“Give me two minutes,” she said to Achilles, before kissing him quickly on the lips and running into the ocean.
The water was cool but far from freezing. It felt fantastic. Much better than the barn hose. She dove in to rinse her hair and swam underwater for as long as her breath held out.
Standing waist deep in the wavy water, she began working the burlap, gently at first, then with more gusto. She wanted it off. Needed it off. The cold helped to numb her skin and the salt water would cleanse the wound, right? She didn’t really care. Not at that moment.
It didn’t take too long, even though Omar had reapplied the glue only hours before. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. She emerged from the ocean feeling spiritually cleansed.
Achilles had no shirt to dry her with, but he wrapped her in another tight hug and ran his hands over her body.
“I’m okay,” she said, looking at him and then her waist. “Fantastic even.” There was a bit of blood, but mostly just angry pink skin. She was fine with that.
“This may sound like an odd question, but did you hear any talk of eggs and potatoes? Or see any?” Achilles asked.
“The only farm product I saw was chickens. Tens of thousands of chickens. That’s where they lived and kept me prisoner. A gigantic chicken barn with big fans at each end. But I did see lots of worktables and evidence of flat brown and enamel white paint.”
“What’s the relevance?” he asked.
“Eggs are enamel white. And potatoes are flat brown.”
Achilles closed his eyes and threw back his head. “Of course! How did I miss that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Personal Propulsion Systems bought a bunch of paint. The receipt didn’t say which colors, but I should have made the connection.”
“Explosive eggs and potatoes fits everything I know,” Katya said. “Does that help us catch them?”
“It will help us find the bombs once we know the target, but Miami is too big to be helpful. They have everything. A major airport. Sports stadiums. Luxury hotels. High-rise residences. Office towers. Concert halls. Colleges and universities. We tell Vic eggs and potatoes in Miami and he’s got nothing.”
“So what do we do? Should we drive around looking for the farm? See where they sent trucks?”
“How closely can you estimate the location? Can you find it in the next hour?”
“Probably not.”
“Then we need another way. A second data point. Did you hear any talk of Cape Canaveral? Or Disney?”
“No, but they always spoke Arabic.”
“Locations would sound the same.”
Achilles was right, but that wasn’t helpful. She hadn’t— “The only English words I heard were serenity and tranquility. They repeated those several times on different days.”
Achilles perked up. “What was the context?”
“It was during some excited discussions, but I don’t know more than that.”
“Those are both spiritual wor
ds. Could it have been part of a prayer?”
“Why use English words then?” Katya asked. “Surely there are Arabic equivalents.”
Achilles cocked his jaw. “Could those be proper names? Maybe religious retreats?”
“The Serenity Center and the Tranquility Center,” Katya said, trying the idea on for size. “That could be it. Targeting a specific religious group certainly fits the terrorist mold. We should Google it.”
“Agreed. But my phone died.”
“Do you have a charger in the car?”
Achilles shook his head as his mind worked the puzzle. “They would have to be huge retreats, right? We’re talking tons of eggs and potatoes.”
“Twelve pallets worth,” Katya confirmed. “And probably a lot more than that. I’m thinking the explosive pallets were mixed in with regular ones. Otherwise, the two trucks would have been far from full.”
“That approach would also add camouflage. Good point. Who needs that big a shipment of eggs and potatoes? All at once?”
“The Army needs enough to feed an army?” Katya suggested. “Is there an army base in Miami?”
Achilles abruptly stopped walking and started looking around. Clearly excited, he quickly spotted what he wanted, said, “Follow me,” and took off running.
Katya sprinted after him toward two people lounging on the sand. Big guys in their early twenties.
Achilles reached them first and said something she couldn’t hear. She didn’t catch their reply either, but their body language wasn’t encouraging. “I just need it for a minute,” Achilles said as she caught up.
“It’s almost halftime,” the closer guy said.
Achilles wanted their phone.
“It’s really important and urgent,” Achilles said. “Look, commercial,” he added, pointing at the screen.
“One minute,” the guy stood and handed Achilles his phone.
“Siri, where is the ship tranquility.”
Siri thought. “Here’s what I found. Does that look good?”
Katya couldn’t see the screen.
Achilles said, “Siri, where is the Tranquility of the Seas?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know that location.”
“Siri, where is the cruise ship the Tranquility of the Seas?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know that location.”
“Okay, guy,” the phone’s owner said, holding out a beefy hand, palm up. “You can plan your cruise later, on your own phone.”
“Siri, what cruise ships are in Miami, Florida, today.”
“Okay, here’s what I found.”
Katya watched with great anticipation as Achilles clicked a link to cruisecal.com. Could it be that simple? An alphabetized spreadsheet of cruise ships popped up, listing their current port and arrival and departure times.
The other college football fan stood and waded in close. “Dude!”
Achilles began scrolling the list, zooming in when he reached S. “The Serenity of the Seas departs Miami at four p.m. today.”
“And the Tranquility?” Katya asked.
“Departs Port Canaveral, also at four p.m.”
101
The Split
Florida
AS ACHILLES CHECKED HIS WATCH, the phone’s owner snatched his property back. The football fans were amped up now too, but in a very different way, twitching their shoulders and leaning in. Katya was pleased to see Achilles deflate them with a simple “Thanks a lot,” before turning her way. The boys had no idea.
“We can still stop them,” Achilles said with a determined look she knew well. He grabbed her hand and began jogging toward the parking lot.
“We?” Katya asked. “We should call the police.”
Achilles looked her way but didn’t slow. “I went through the whole Tip Line discussion with the FBI yesterday. It’s like going to the DMV. They’re inundated and understaffed.”
Katya found that hard to believe. “But we’ve got details!”
“So do the paranoid, schizophrenic and deranged. We’ll sound exactly like a thousand other calls they get each day when we start talking of exploding eggs.”
“Thousand other calls?”
“The FBI Tip Line gets over two thousand a day. I’m guessing half are from nut jobs.”
Katya felt foolish. She’d made the mistake of confusing life with a television show. The real world revolved around overworked, underpaid people on the ground who were directed by politically motivated superiors and bogged down by bureaucracy.
“There’s another reason not to make a call, and that’s Oz.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Think about all his planning. It’s been meticulous.”
Katya thought back to her hostage situation. The headphones, the blindfolds, the padlock, the belt. The chicken farm, the sheriff’s cars, the uniforms, the black box. “No doubt about that. But so what?”
“He might not risk the chance that his hopes, dreams and hard work all get flushed by a phone call.”
“How could he prevent it?”
“Easily enough, given that most of the passengers will soon be aboard. He could send someone to both ports with instructions to blow the bombs if the ships begin an evacuation.”
“Which is exactly what would happen if the port authorities believe a phoned-in bomb threat.”
Achilles nodded grimly as the severity of their situation descended upon her. “No doubt his scouts will be tuned to the police band on the radio as well.”
“Couldn’t the police just jam the signal?”
“Even if they knew the proper wavelength, which they don’t, that’s much easier said than done, especially in a place as wired as a military installation. And there’s always the chance of a passive trigger. One that goes off if the signal is broken.”
“That’s what they put on my belt,” Katya said. “So what do we do?”
“We drive to the cruise ships and make the case in person. We ask to see the head of security and then we present him with the details—including our concern that evacuation will trigger the explosion. Since we know where the bombs are, they can work to disarm them without alerting Oz’s observers.”
“Makes sense, but which one do we pick? Which is closer, Miami or Port Canaveral?”
“They’re both about two hours away. One north, one south. We have three hours before the ships depart. I think we should hit both.”
Katya was more than a little shaken from her recent experience, but still quite capable of basic math. They couldn’t— “You want us to split up?”
“I don’t want us to split up. I don’t want to ever let you out of my sight again. But we double our chances of reaching someone reasonable that way. Who knows what we’ll run into in Miami or Port Canaveral. Best to try both.”
He led her to a metallic blue car with an uneven paint job. “You painted the white car?”
Achilles opened the rear door and pulled the key from between the cushions. Then he grabbed his wallet from beneath a floor mat. “Here’s a Visa card for gas, if you need it. The car has a full tank. The road we’re on goes to the highway. Just turn south toward Miami and follow the signs to the cruise terminal. At the cruise terminal, look for signs to The Serenity of the Seas. Then ask for the head of security for the ship, not the terminal, but the ship.”
Achilles was talking fast, but her mind was also in overdrive.
“You can abandon the car wherever it’s most convenient. Here’s my phone. The battery is dead, but charge it when you can so I can call you.”
“Is there any special code I should use or something like that?” Katya asked. “I’m not certain they’ll take me seriously. I don’t even have identification.”
“That’s just as well, because there’s a warrant out for your arrest. Use a friend’s name, but don’t let them bog you down with that bureaucratic stuff. Make it clear exactly what happened. What you witnessed as a hostage of Middle-Eastern terrorists. Whatever happens, insist they inspect all
the ship’s eggs and potatoes immediately. I’ll do the same thing with the Tranquility.”
“Even to me, that sounds crazy.”
“What choice do we have?” He gave her a strong hug and a forceful kiss, then ran off.
Katya took a deep breath, then dropped into the driver’s seat. It needed a lot of adjustment. Putting her feet to the pedals, she was reminded that she didn’t even have shoes.
102
Crippling Conclusions
Florida
SEPARATING FROM KATYA after such a short reunion was the next-to-last thing I wanted to do. The last was watching two cruise ships loaded with happy families explode—knowing I hadn’t done everything in my power to prevent it.
To get to Port Canaveral, I took advantage of an unwitting accomplice. The man who had peed on the parking lot donated his aged BMW to the cause.
Call it a hefty fine.
I’d hoped to find a cell phone in his car, but that search yielded no fruit. Being disconnected was frustrating in general, but exceptionally so at a time like this. I considered stopping to buy a burner phone or charger, but didn’t want to get off the highway. I was cutting it critically close as it was.
At least I’d gotten the call and video in to Vic before going dark.
I started the drive thinking through my opponent’s plan. Oz was doing what the original Osama had done. Turning a routine, mass transportation operation into a mind-bending, morale-crushing act of terrorism.
If he succeeded, the impact might surpass that of 9-11. Casualties on the two ships could rival those from the Twin Towers. The whole cruise industry would go down in flames. Worst of all, the world would learn that explosives could be hidden from the best detection system. Once that word got out, no crowded place would feel safe. No mall, no stadium, no office, no school.
I simply could not fail.