Palmer continued. “Cummings is not even the senior agent of the Albuquerque field office. That assault team should have been commanded by any of two or three more senior agents, yet Reyes specifically took her daughter hostage.”
McGrath nodded. “Because he knew once we knew he was in-country, the operation would fall under our jurisdiction, and we would assign Cummings to lead the assault. Which means Reyes knows her connection to us.”
“And our agency identity.”
“And Pete’s identity.” McGrath paused and reached for his mug of now cold coffee on the desk next to their workstation.
“Pete’s after-action report of the hit on Mark Johnson indicated that Reyes saw him and Cummings standing near Johnson at the shooting. Maybe he used facial recognition to ID Pete.”
McGrath nodded. “Yet, he not only queried Pete’s name in the FBI database, he queried mine also.”
She had significant doubt in her voice. “He’d have to have very high-level military connections either here or in Mexico to access intel resources that could find Pete’s file. He and his team are as deep black as we have.” She paused. “As are you and I. Still, that doesn’t explain how he could know your identity or your affiliation with Pete.”
“You’re suggesting we have a leak.” There, he’d said aloud the thought that had been nagging him all morning.
“Possibly,” she said. “But our team is small. Just the two analysts we have here and the two who were reassigned last week, and you and me. And the president and a limited number of her senior staff.”
McGrath nodded. “We’re operating at Special Access Level Three, and I report only to the president. So unless she has a high-level leak in her cabinet, I think we can assume the intel is coming through Mexican military channels.” He paused for a moment, then continued.
“Pete has a five-year special ops history before joining us. It’s at least conceivable that a foreign intelligence agency has a file on him.” McGrath made that statement like he knew it was not really possible. Still, it was something he had to say just to be thorough.
Palmer added, “We’ve suspected that Reyes is connected to high-ranking officers in the Mexican military. That’s presumably how he obtained transportation and the sophisticated weaponry used for the original snatch.”
“If we uncover clear evidence that there’s a foreign military component to Melissa’s kidnapping, things are going to get a lot more complicated.”
“I agree,” Palmer said. “This incident in Albuquerque, especially if connected to Melissa’s kidnapping, could start a war or at the very least provoke a significant international event.”
McGrath shook his head. “None of this explains why Reyes has resurfaced again like this.” He pointed at the monitor. “Or why he started a bloodbath in Albuquerque. If he wanted to negotiate the girl’s release, he could have made contact the same way he sent the ransom demand. That would have given him more credibility than murdering FBI agents. Or he could have just killed Heinmann and his family, and left a note with them. He doesn’t need a face-to-face meet with Pete.”
“Unless he has some other agenda or some personal interest in Pete.” She paused. “And you.”
There was a subtle change in her tone, a slight inflection or maybe a tiny pause at the end of her statement that froze the blood in McGrath’s veins. He glanced sideways at Nancy Palmer, and his gaze lingered on her sky-blue eyes for a moment. Then he took a deep breath as an impossible scenario suddenly stood foremost in his mind. He turned fully to face his deputy.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this isn’t Alfonso Reyes’s work. I’m thinking this is Carl Johnson.”
“Carl Johnson is dead. He committed suicide.”
“It certainly appeared that way,” Palmer said. “But the motivation for this ambush fits more with Johnson than Reyes.” She paused, and McGrath got the feeling she was still working through the scenario in her mind. “He knows we’re looking for Reyes and a ‘particular American girl.’” She did the quote-unquote thing with her fingers as she mentioned the phrase given to Agent Cummings. “We’ve put Lenore in charge of that op before. He might assume we’d do so again.”
McGrath shook his head. “He specifically said he wanted to negotiate Melissa’s release, but she’s been missing over a month, and we’ve kept this out of the media. There’s no way Johnson could possibly know she’s still missing.
“Besides,” he added. “There’s absolutely nothing in his records, either during or after his military service, that suggests he has the training or the skills to conduct an ambush like this, nor that he has the disposition or the capacity to murder people or to take that kind of revenge. He’s a law-abiding citizen!”
“That was before he was interrogated and before his son died.” Palmer paused. “He was a professional project manager and planner. Given adequate resources and a mental imbalance caused by emotional distress, I’d say he might be able to pull this off.”
McGrath shook his head. “It’s still too far-fetched to believe an off-the-street model citizen could turn terrorist in four weeks.” He stood silently, considering all the facts. He continued to glare at the wall monitor as if it would reveal previously undiscovered information. Then he said, “What do you recommend?”
Palmer turned to the management workstation. “I’ll take another look at Johnson’s suicide and the house fire to see if I can positively verify his remains.”
He nodded. “If this is Johnson we’ve got to put him down A-S-A-P. We can’t have him interfering with our primary mission.”
Palmer nodded. “He’d need help. A blast like that,” she said with a nod at the monitor, “would take military-grade explosives, and that’d be very expensive. He’d need money and he’d need someone with military experience to set the detonators. And to do the kind of computer hacking the FBI is reporting, he’d need a specialist with prior high-level intel service.”
“Okay, follow up on those angles,” McGrath said. “But his mention of a rendezvous location was too detailed, too intentional. We have to proceed with the dual possibility that this still might be Alfonso Reyes with a new agenda. If so, he’s getting bold or greedy, or maybe he really is willing to negotiate for the girl’s release.”
McGrath turned to the analyst. “Jimmy, one of Alfonso Reyes’s estates is in north-central Mexico, isn’t it?”
The young man did some fast keyboard work and nodded. His big Afro wobbled with the gesture.
“Yes, sir. It’s one of several he maintains through the country. But that specific estate he mentioned is a fortified compound a couple hundred miles south of the border, east of a place called Nuevo Casas Grande. The compound is pretty isolated too. It would be a good place to hide a hostage if he had one.”
“Coordinate with Customs and Border Protection to get a surveillance drone in the air over that compound. I want to know what’s happening down there.” He turned back to Palmer. “I’m going to send Pete out to Albuquerque heavy.”
Heavy meant Pete was going out with a six-man tactical assault force fully armed and ready for any contingency. If the enemy was Carl Johnson, Pete would be licensed to kill. If the enemy was Reyes, he was fully authorized to conduct any negotiation necessary to secure Melissa’s release.
If negotiation proved ineffective, then he was authorized to perform any onsite experimental interrogation necessary to determine the girl’s location. If successful in that objective, he was further authorized to conduct full-envelope covert intrusion, even across the border, into whatever property—public, private, or government—and in any country, in order to retrieve the girl. In short, he had full authority to act without accountability.
The analyst cleared his throat and said, “I have Special Agent in Charge Figueroa on video link from Albuquerque.”
McGrath nodded, and the monitor showed the Director’s small conference room. The eight chairs were filled with the Director’s senior staff, and
a half dozen other agents stood against the walls.
McGrath said. “My condolences on the loss of your people.” Figueroa nodded, and McGrath continued. “I assume you’re at a heightened security readiness?”
The local FBI commander looked haggard, and McGrath could only imagine how a lawman would feel after suffering the worst attack of his career. His suit jacket hung from the back of his seat, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His black tie was loosened, and his top shirt button was undone. He stood at the head of his conference table and leaned forward, braced by his fist knuckles on the surface. His holstered sidearm was visible on his right hip. The man looked very no-nonsense.
“We are. The building is locked down, and all field agents and personnel accounts with access to classified information are being sequestered along with their families. Also, all computer access codes have been changed so no one outside the building can access our servers now. Cummings will be debriefed as well when she returns.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Director McGrath, police have responded to a call at Special Agent Cummings’s residence. Armed men broke into her house, assaulted her mother, and kidnapped her daughter. I believe this action is connected with the ambush of her team. With her daughter hostage, she is part of the case, and I have specific protocol requirements.”
“A foreign national has performed an act of terrorism on American soil,” McGrath said. “Since the individual responsible is currently under investigation in connection with another terror event, this case falls under the jurisdiction of the Terror Event Response agency. My office has already taken the lead in all operations regarding this event going forward. We’ll need your cooperation and resources, but as of this moment Special Agent Cummings is reassigned to my office as liaison to your office. There will be no debriefing, clear?”
Figueroa paused, clearly not happy. “Understood.”
“Special Agent Cummings, are you still on the line?” She had been patched into the briefing on her cell.
“I’m here.”
“How are you holding up?”
She paused and he heard her take a deep breath.
“My daughter has been kidnapped, sir. How do you think I’m holding up?”
He glanced at Palmer, and she nodded, obviously making the same assessment that he had. Cummings’s voice was shaky, which was expected after her ordeal, but she had a good mix of anger and anxiety. She was still in the game.
“Your security clearance has been raised to Special Access Level Three. You report directly to Agent Klipser. He will brief you when he arrives, clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well,” McGrath said. “We’re going to put a trace on your cell.” He glanced sideways at the tech analyst.
“On it,” Jimmy said. “Thirty seconds.”
“If Reyes contacts you again, tell him that Klipser is en route. And don’t worry. We’ll get your daughter back.”
The monitor went blank as both sides terminated the briefing, and McGrath told the analyst to put Klipser on the speaker phone. He briefly summarized the new information regarding the possibility that the Albuquerque ambush was conducted by still-alive Carl Johnson, and not Alfonso Reyes.
“I’m flagging Johnson as a Tier One terror suspect, Pete.”
“Understood.” Klipser said over the speaker.
Palmer tented her eyebrows. “You’re basically putting out an assassination order on Carl Johnson, and yet Reyes is only a Tier Three suspect?”
“That’s because we need Reyes alive regardless of what he’s done or what he does going forward. Right now, he’s our only link to finding Melissa. However, if the perpetrator of today’s ambush is really Carl Johnson, then he just murdered eight federal agents and left American wives and children without their husbands and fathers. He’s Tier One.”
Palmer started to say something, but McGrath interrupted her.
“Look, if this is Johnson, and I’m still not convinced that it is, then he deserves what he gets. He put himself in the game and now he’s got to play by the rules.”
Palmer nodded. “But after having seen this,” she said pointing at the center monitor displaying the burning ambush house, “I’d be very careful about escalating this if we’re dealing with Johnson. We haven’t yet profiled him, and we don’t know his state of mind. Personally, I’m seeing a man who has nothing to lose. He’s not afraid to play large.”
“Pete can handle escalation just fine.”
Palmer put her hands on her hips and faced him. “And what of his hostage, Lenore’s daughter?”
“Collateral damage.”
“What!? The president would never approve of this.”
“The president is not running this op, Agent Palmer. I am.”
“Haven’t we done enough to this man? Hell, he looks so much like Reyes, maybe we should recruit him. We should figure out how to use him to get Melissa back.”
“I’ve made the call, Nancy, so get onboard with it.” McGrath turned away from her and spoke at the monitor, even though Klipser was only on audio. “Are you clear on your instructions, Pete?”
“Perfectly.”
McGrath turned to Jimmy. “See to Johnson’s Tier One status.”
The analyst nodded. “I’ll have to coordinate with the FBI Executive Assistant Director for National Security, sir, because their Counterterrorism Division deals with terrorism threats inside the US.”
“I’m aware of that,” McGrath said. “Just get it done.”
Klipser said. “How shall I handle Agent Cummings?”
McGrath glanced at Agent Palmer, but she just stood there with her hands on her hips glaring at him.
“Think real hard about this, Aaron. You’re too close to this, and you’re headed down a very slippery slope.”
“All I care about is getting Melissa back, and I’ll do whatever I have to.” He took a deep breath and spoke to Klipser. “Pete, keep Cummings close, in case she is contacted again, but consider both mother and daughter compromised and expendable.”
“Understood. My team and I will be wheels-up by three, and we’ll be in Albuquerque just before sundown. Have the FBI agent meet us at the airport.”
The comm link went dead, and Palmer looked like she was going to continue the debate, but the young analyst gasped.
“Agent Figueroa’s office just found Alfonso Reyes’s Albuquerque base of operations!”
Chapter 34
1232 MST Monday
Albuquerque, NM
It had been a shot in the dark, a Hail Mary pass, a Plan-B. He didn’t know who the girl was or what had happened to her, or if she was even still missing. That wasn’t why he’d kidnapped the agent’s daughter, but he was still going to use her against her mother. The ruse had simply been an easy way to get Klipser to Albuquerque. If they—whoever they were—hadn’t fallen for it, he’d have to figure out some other way to find those agents.
He’d hit pay dirt, though. They thought he was Reyes. They thought he had their girl. And they were coming for her. In a deep corner of his mind, he started planning a scenario where he might find out who she was, and how he could find her and use her against the government. Maybe Cummings knew who she was. Maybe she’d trade information in exchange for her daughter’s life.
The ops center was practically empty. A fold-out table from Wal-Mart served as Erickson’s computer desk. The only piece of equipment on the desk was the man’s high-end laptop. It was connected by cable to the high-def wall monitor. The only other equipment in the ops center was the bank of power strips charging the disposable cells. That was it. No tables or couches or chairs or lamps.
Garcia continued to give Erickson instructions according to the plan Carl had outlined. The mercenaries stood in the middle of the ops room, watching the data cascade across the wall monitor and listening, Carl was convinced, to every word spoken by Garcia, Erickson, and himself. All four mercs wore black cargo pants and black turtlenec
ks. All were armed with knives and guns, but they’d left the heavy weaponry and body armor out in the garage.
Carl addressed his team. “To be clear, the people who are coming for me are probably CIA black-ops guys.”
The female Merc Four, jutted her chin forward and said, “What exactly is our mission?”
Carl gave her and the others a sly grin. He wasn’t sure where he got his new confidence, but it felt good. “Kill everyone except these two.” He pointed at the wall monitor.
A badge photo of Special Agent Cummings from her personnel file filled the right half of the screen. She was dressed in her typical FBI dark suit with a light-blue blouse. Intense brown eyes stared at the camera. Her blonde hair was pulled severely back. Minimal makeup adorned her oval face.
On the left half of the screen was an artist’s conception of Agent Klipser. During his hacking foray into the FBI’s computers before the lockdown, Erickson had found no surveillance photos of the man or team who had retrieved Carl from the FBI building a month ago, so he concluded that the building’s security videos had been erased. He downloaded a software program which he used to produce a likeness of Klipser as described by Carl. It was a good likeness, Carl thought—slender face, square jaw with its perpetual scruffy five-o’clock shadow, thin lips, narrow nose, closely spaced hawk-like black eyes that seemed to bore through their target, close-cropped military buzz cut that was very short on the sides of his head, but a little longer on top. It was an intense face he would never forget.
“I’m fairly sure this woman, Special Agent Cummings, knows the identity of a man named McGrath who gives them their marching orders, but I’m absolutely certain that Agent Klipser knows him. I want them both alive if possible, but if I can’t have both then I’ll settle for only the woman. Because we have her daughter, she is more likely to respond favorably to my requests for information. This man, Klipser, will be too hard to break.”
American Terrorist Trilogy Page 18