by Mark Donovan
“What happens if Williams decides to attack at night?” asked Fenton doubtfully.
“These particular Hunter-Falcon sensors have been configured to operate in day or night lighting,” responded Ron. “Basically their nano-material mass that makes up the key sensor material in them, can absorb small amounts of light and amplify it prior to presenting the image to the video camera portion of the sensor. It works in a similar fashion to night vision goggles.”
“And what happens if Williams is wearing a mask?” asked another of the FBI Fly Team.
“Well then we’re screwed,” said Dave. “But from what my wife reported, there were no signs of masks used by him and his accomplice in Eberswalde, Germany.”
The FBI Fly Team leader seemed to be mollified with Dave’s response. He just hoped that Spencer remained consistent in his approach to attacking public water supplies.
“I brought along one other item,” said Ron proudly as he placed his hand on a double-high stack of large containers.
Dave already knew what it was, but the FBI Fly Team looked over at Ron again with interest. When Ron had all of their attentions he finally described what was in them.
“Inside these two large containers is a water purification system specifically designed to neutralize any contaminated water supply. All we need to do is introduce it between the water storage tanks and the main city water pipes. Once installed it will kill off the cholera like bacteria and separate the inert material from the water before it is pumped into the city’s water mains”
“Well again, it sounds like another water-under-the-bridge type solution, and I mean the pun,” said Fenton.
“Correct,’ responded Dave. “However, if Mr. Williams is successful deploying the cholera like toxin before we can stop him, at least we can prevent hundreds of thousands of people or more from becoming ill, or worse yet, dying.”
“Agreed,” Fenton replied. “But at this point our mission should be focused on finding Mr. Williams and stopping him, rather than on containment and resolution.”
“We’re all for that,” responded Ron.
“Well alright,” said Fenton as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road. Every minute we stand here and bullshit, the more likely Mr. Williams will be successful in his demented quest. My team will help carry out these containers to our vehicles. They should be waiting for us outside the terminal. I had the airbase operations group order us three SUV’s specifically equipped for this type of mission.”
“I suggest that we go out and visit every one of the water utility stations in order of supply capacity,” said Dave. “At each one, Ron and I will get a squadron of Hunter-Falcons airborne. We will then leave one of your guys behind to monitor them, while the rest of us continue on to the next station and deploy another squadron. Within a couple of hours we should be able to have every station in the city under surveillance.”
Fenton nodded in agreement. “There are six stations around the city. If Ron can stay behind and man one of the stations, you and I can act as floaters ready to act as first responders when Williams shows his face.”
“That works for me,” said Ron.
“Likewise,” responded Dave.
After loading up the three SUV’s Dave and Ron rode with Fenton and one other member of his team in the lead vehicle. The other four men divided up evenly in the two remaining SUVs. As they drove to the largest utility station located north of downtown Dallas, Fenton received a phone call. After listening for a minute to the person on the other end of the line he hung up. He turned to Dave and Ron who were in the backseat.
“While we were in the air, I sent out a request to all police jurisdictions along the Texas/Mexico border to send me any reports of stolen vehicles in the last twenty four hours. It turns out a blue Chevy Cobalt was stolen sometime last night in the town of Granjeno, Texas. The town is notorious for border crossings, as the Rio Grande is shallow and narrow there, and there is no fence or wall to have to jump over. Suffice it to say, Granjeno is a prime candidate for someone like Mr. Williams to cross over into the United States undetected.”
“So we need to be on the lookout for a blue Cobalt,” said Ron.
“That was Dallas police headquarters. They’ve already initiated a city wide all-points bulletin for the vehicle. If it’s in this town, and not buried in a garage or hole, we should be able to locate it.”
“And hopefully Mr. Williams will be sitting in it,” responded Ron.
“And if not that, at least we may find some evidence on where he’s headed,” said Fenton.
Over the next two hours the Hunter-Falcons were deployed at all of Dallas’s water utility stations, and each one manned by one of the team members and Ron. However, there had still not been any report from the Dallas police about the blue Chevy Cobalt.
With all their bases covered, Dave suggested to Fenton that they may want to patrol the areas near the largest two water stations. As they cruised the area in between the two stations Fenton commented, “We don’t know how many canisters of the cholera toxin Spencer has. It is possible he may have partners that could attempt to contaminate multiple water supplies simultaneously.”
“I suspect Spencer is working on his own,” said Dave. “From what my wife explained to us in Washington, he seems to have his own personal vendetta against the United States due to the unfortunate death of his wife years ago, at the hands of the U.S. government I might add. He also had plans to kill his accomplice in Turkey, but my wife beat him to the punch.”
Fenton looked over at Dave for a second, surprised by his last revelation.
“Though Spencer is Muslim, and certainly had a relationship with Aref Zarin and his extended Al Qaeda team, I think he is more of a lone wolf if you will, focused on settling his own personal score, rather than so much for the bigger cause of Al Qaeda.”
“Interesting Intel and perspective,” responded Fenton. “A lone wolf, though dangerous in his own right, is an easier issue to deal with than a whole team of Al Qaeda members attacking a set of targets, as was the case in 9/11.”
“So hopefully if we can find and neutralize him, we can at least put an end to this immediate threat,” said Dave.
Fenton’s phone started to ring again. While steering with his left hand he pulled his phone out of his shirt breast-pocket with the other and hit the answer button. After a twenty second call, he hung up and looked over at Dave.
“They found the blue Cobalt. It’s only about four blocks from here. The Dallas police is saying we need to come have a look.”
Chapter 46 (April 18, Monday 4:00pm, Dallas, Texas)
After stopping into a sporting goods store to pick up a pair of wet-suit boots and a dry sack, Ahmad cruised the northwest streets of Dallas looking for a place to find a replacement set of wheels. He knew he had already been pressing his luck driving the Cobalt around Dallas much of the day. Finally, after searching for nearly fifteen minutes, he found what he was looking for. It was a large grocery store parking lot, target rich with potential replacement vehicles. But what made the location so attractive to him was the fact that there was a remote Chinese restaurant building near the grocery store facility that had very little patronage at the moment. It was too early for dinner and well past the lunchtime crowd. The grocery store parking lot also encompassed the Chinese restaurant building and a large empty field bordered the back of the restaurant. Nice and private, thought Ahmad.
Ahmad glanced over to his right. Barak had been sitting pretty much comatose the entire time he had been in the vehicle, ever since they completed the recon of the water utility station.
“You feel like Chinese?” asked Ahmad.
Barak turned to him and said, “I’m not really hungry.”
“Well I am, and we’re going to be busy for the next several hours. We’re stopping in.”
Barak did not respond.
Ahmad drove into the large shopping plaza parking lot and headed for the separate Chinese restaurant
building. However, instead of parking at one of the many open parking spaces in front of the restaurant he continued to drive the Cobalt around to the back of the building.
Barak stared out the front windshield, totally uninterested and just trying to figure out a plan to walk away from his situation and Ahmad. He was a madman on a death mission, and quite possibly for a reason that went above and beyond Aref’s bigger objective, thought Barak. Ahmad seemed to have a very personal reason for accomplishing the assignment. For himself, however, Aref’s latest request went way above his level of commitment to the jihadi cause. The McCall, Idaho situation had been bad enough for him, but participating in a mass killing, genocide, was beyond his level of commitment to Al Qaeda.
Ahmad brought the Cobalt to rest in the back parking lot of the Chinese restaurant, facing away from it, looking out into the neighboring field instead. He put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Barak turned his head to him to ask why he had chosen to park where he did, but before he had the chance to utter a single syllable Ahmad karate chopped him in the throat with the side of his hand, instantly crushing Barak’s windpipe.
For a brief second Barak’s eyes locked onto Ahmad’s, a panicked and questioning look on his face as he struggled to breathe, the realization of suffocation quickly sinking into his consciousness. However, Barak’s understanding and silent plea for help was fleeting, as Ahmad grabbed the back of Barak’s head by his hair and proceeded to slam it forward several times into the Cobalt’s dashboard. On the forth blow Ahmad released his hold on Barak’s head just as it hit the dashboard, causing it to violently bounce off of the dash and then bang into the seat’s head rest behind him. When Barak’s head finally came to rest, it lolled and twisted into an impossible position on his neck, his eyes open and vacant, blood dripping from his nose and face, and all signs of life expunged from him.
Ahmad took in several deep breaths as he allowed his heightened senses to calm down from killing Barak. He hated to kill his own brothers, but he had concluded that Barak was a risk to the mission and the long term goals of Al Qaeda. Ahmad could tell that the western civilization jihad in Barak had either faded away or was never present. He had to die.
Ahmad needed to get a new vehicle. He stepped from the Cobalt, opened its trunk, and pulled out the knapsack and duffle bag carrying the canisters. He then went around to the other side of the vehicle and opened the passenger front door, where Barak’s lifeless body lie. He quickly searched through Barak’s pockets looking for any items that might identify him. The idiot was carrying a wallet with a Massachusetts driver’s license in it. Ahmad put the wallet in his knapsack, shut the passenger door, and then walked away from the vehicle. He didn’t care if Barak’s body was found. By the time anyone had the guts enough to come up close to the vehicle to check on Barak’s physical health condition, Dallas police would have much bigger issues to deal with. Ahmad made his way to the grocery store parking lot. Ten minutes later he was driving out of it in a beige Ford Escape.
Chapter 47 (April 18, Monday 5:30pm, Dallas, Texas)
Dave and Fenton pulled into the parking lot behind the Chinese restaurant. There were several Dallas police cars and an ambulance parked in a semi-circle around a blue sedan. Cops milled around the vehicle and between the police cars. Dave and Fenton jumped out of the SUV and walked over to the man who looked like he was in charge of the investigation.
Fenton showed his identification to the officer and asked, “So what do we have going on here?”
“We have a late thirties, possibly early forties, dead male body seated in the front passenger seat of that Chevy Cobalt.” The officer glanced over to the vehicle. Its front passenger door was open and Dave could see the lower torso of a man sitting in it. “He appears to be of Middle Eastern descent,” said the officer.
“Dead. Any idea how?” asked Fenton.
“The man appears to have suffered severe blows to the front of his head and face as well as a crushed windpipe. From our initial assessment he either died of suffocation or from severe brain trauma injury.”
“Was there any ID on him?” pressed Fenton.
“Nothing. He was clean.”
“How about in the rest of the vehicle? Anything found in it?”
“Again it was clean. We ran the plates and the vehicle is registered to a woman that lives in Granjeno, Texas. We’re now doing a full forensic sweep of the vehicle, looking for prints, hair and fabric fiber samples, but I’m not expecting to find much that will be of any help.”
“How long ago did you find this vehicle?” asked Fenton.
“We got here fifteen minutes ago. The owner of the restaurant called about the vehicle when he saw it while emptying the trash. He said the vehicle was not there at three o’clock this afternoon.”
Fenton looked at his watch and did some quick math. “Do you mind if we have a look at the body and car?” asked Fenton.
“By all means, have as much time as you need,” said the police officer.
Dave and Fenton went over to the vehicle and initially looked at the body.
“Hard to say, but he looks like he could have certainly come out of Iran,” said Fenton.
“Or anywhere else in the Middle East,” responded Dave.
“Based on his clothing, and the dirt on his shoes, it would appear he has been out walking around in fields,” said Dave.
“Or possibly around water utility stations,” responded Fenton.
The two walked around the entire car and looked inside of it, making sure not to touch anything to contaminate the crime scene. The trunk was open. Dave peered into it and looked closely at the cloth fabric on the floor of the trunk.
“Fenton, do you see this?”
Fenton leaned in closer to the trunk.
“There is quite a bit of dirt and mud sitting in here,” commented Dave.
“Agreed,” responded Fenton.
“I would bet my bottom dollar that Mr. Spencer Williams was the driver of this vehicle and that he had large heavy items sitting in this trunk. Items that included knapsacks that crossed the Rio Grande and got possibly wet and muddy in the process,” said Dave.
Fenton looked closely at the mud stains and saw the outlines of where two large and heavy items had been placed inside the trunk.
“I agree,” said Fenton. “It looks like our man may not be far from here, and that most likely he is targeting one of the two stations in this local area.”
“Unless he got himself another set of wheels,” responded Dave.
“He most likely did, but based on the mud on that corpse’s shoes, I still believe Mr. Williams is targeting a station in the very close vicinity of here.”
Dave went around to the front passenger seat again and looked down at the corpse once more. He observed that the mud on the man’s shoes was still damp. Fenton was probably right he concluded.
Fenton started walking back to the SUV, with Dave following in quick pursuit. “I want to check on the two closest stations from here,” said Fenton. “See if our guys have seen anything.”
“Actually, I think Ron is at one of the stations close to here,” said Dave. “He’s at the North-West station.”
“Your right,” responded Fenton as he quickly recollected on what personnel he left where. “We’ll give him a call first, and then I’ll contact my guy covering the North-Central Water Utility Station next. I want to make sure that they are both on high alert.”
Chapter 48 (April 18, Monday 5:45pm, Dallas, Texas)
Ron sat in a chair in a small guard shack at the main entrance to the North-West End Water Utility Station, located on the south shore of Lake Lewisville. The sole guard for the entrance stood outside the shack monitoring vehicles coming and going from the water station facility. Ron was focused on the tablet computer that he was holding in his hands. Five minutes earlier he had received a call from Dave who had told him about the abandoned car found only a few blocks from the station, and the body found in it. Consequently Ron wa
s on high alert, monitoring the Hunter-Falcon data feeds for any strange movement on or around the water station complex. Dave had also said that Spencer may potentially be carrying one or two large pieces of luggage with him based on what they had discovered in the trunk of the vehicle. So far, however, Ron had not seen any unusual activity around the water facility. Similarly, the water tests that had been performed at the station in the past hour had all come back negative.
The sun was beginning to set so Ron was also reconfiguring the Hunter-Falcons, via the tablet interface, for night vision sensing. Though the night vision sensing technology in the drones did not provide the same level of image quality as the standard camera lens in the visual light spectrum, they would at least be capable of detecting any thermal movements in or around the facility. He set the audio-alarm feature on the tablet computer such that the detection of movement by any of the Hunter-Falcons, on any object that gave off heat and that was larger than a small dog, would trigger the alarm.
Across the road from the North-West Water Utility Station a beige Ford Escape pulled into a strip mall parking lot. Ahmad parked the vehicle at the far end of the parking lot, nearest the road, so that he had a clear view of the station and the sports field that was to the left of it. He could see that there was a youth soccer game underway.
Since there were no lights on the field, and with sunset coming soon, he expected the field would empty out within the next hour. But he was in no rush. With the sun about to set he would soon need to say his Maghrib prayers, and then afterwards eat. He glanced down at the KFC bag sitting on the seat next to him. Also, he wanted to wait until well after dark before proceeding with his mission, as he would be carrying the large duffle bag with him. He looked up at the sky. As the weather reports had indicated, there was a solid layer of clouds overhead. Fortunately, though, they were expected not to produce any rain showers.