“Uncle, I do not know where my father has gone. He was not here when I returned from my trip. He left no note.”
His uncle interrupted him by raising his hand. “Benny, I would appreciate if you would leave us. I’ll ensure Aziz has his dinner. We have a family issue we must discuss and it would not be appropriate for you to continue to be here.”
Benny quickly left, his body showing his relief in being able to leave.
“Please, Aziz, let us sit and you can tell me everything.” Aziz went into the living room with his uncle behind him. He sat down on the sofa and Mustafa sat in the chair directly across from him.
Aziz told his uncle everything that had occurred since his uncle had dropped him off — how he’d looked for his father in the store and at his office, gone out and found the car gone from the garage, gone to school with the thought his father would be here upon his return. “After Benny closed the store, he came up here and we talked while he fixed us dinner. The phone rang and it was my father.”
“He called?”
“Yes”
“From where?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“What was the number?”
“It was blocked”
“What did he say?”
“He told me he was sorry he’d gone without letting me know. He was still upset about my mother’s death and needed time for himself. He told me he would be back tomorrow when I got home from school.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“No, nothing I can remember.”
“And he gave you no idea where he was or how far away he was?”
“No, just that I shouldn’t worry and he would be back tomorrow and that I shouldn’t tell anyone he was gone.”
Mustafa was surprised by Akmed’s last statement. “Really? He told you not to tell anyone, including me.”
“Yes, he said it was okay for Benny to know, but no one else.”
“I see. You are a good boy, Aziz. You have grown into a fine young man. You know you are right to tell me this. It is important that you always tell me these things. Many good things are planned for you but, you must always remember to be honest.”
“Yes, uncle”
“Aziz, here is some money. Why don’t you go down the street and pick us up something to eat at the Indian restaurant. I’ll stay here but, please hurry.”
“Yes, uncle. I’ll get you your favorite.” Aziz grabbed his jacket and went out the door, leaving Mustafa still sitting in the chair.
Mustafa was perplexed. While Aziz might think his father’s mourning and need to be alone was understandable, Mustafa knew the truth. Aziz’s parents weren’t man and wife. They didn’t have the bonds of love of a traditional couple. None of the “parents” were that close to result in this level of mourning. Mustafa knew Akmed was upset that he wouldn’t pay for the cancer treatments that would have undoubtedly saved Mahasin’s life. But, the money was to fund the mission, not to cover medical expenses and, at this point, a parent was expendable. From Mustafa’s perspective, he would be done with all of them and take the cousins into his own house but, that would raise too much suspicion. All the parents were becoming a challenge. They had tasted too much of the American life and had started to become beholden to the materialistic ways of this country.
He needed to find out where Akmed was and whom he’d been with. There would have to be a confrontation tomorrow. Mustafa would be here to meet Akmed when he returned, so he could get to the bottom of this quickly. He wasn’t going to sacrifice the mission because of Akmed. The cousins were almost ready. He would move forward quickly if he’d no other choice.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SOUTH PHILADELPHIA
Jordan hopped out of the cab, even before it came to a complete stop. Stan had arranged a military flight from D.C and Jordan had insisted on a cab and not a government sedan for transportation. The last thing he needed was the local gang scouts announcing “five-oh” and hollering “whoop-whoop” with his arrival. Things seemed to be unraveling and there was a need for a new plan. The variables had grown larger and more numerous than he liked and he wanted to get things reigned back in as quickly as possible.
He ducked down the alley behind the building housing the command center. He recognized the face of the man loitering in the alley. He couldn’t recall his name, but they had worked together previously.
The sentry acknowledged Jordan with a slight tilt of the head that wouldn’t have been picked up by anyone else, the man stooped over trashcan, acting like he was scrounging for food. As Jordan walked by, the man said softly, “Go down the second walkway, through the back door, up the rear stairs.”
Jordan focused on the path to the rear of the building and turned left. The building was a typical Philadelphia row house. It seemed to have been fairly well maintained compared to others in the neighborhood. The paint was fresh and the yard and surroundings free of trash and litter. Jordan sprang up the steps to the rear door, entered and found the rear stairs. The building was incredibly quiet. As he got to the second landing, another man was standing at the top of the stairs. Dressed to fit in as a tenant, he eyed Jordan as Jordan hit the last step.
“You Jordan?”
“That’s me.”
“Second door on the right; it’s mayhem in there now.”
“No doubt. Thanks.” Jordan headed down the hall and entered through the second door. The difference from the hallway to the apartment, command center, was like night to day. A dozen people were either at makeshift desks or huddled in groups of two or three. No one looked up when Jordan entered. He scoured the room for Frank when he came bounding around the corner.
“What’s the update on Mustafa?”
Frank noticed Jordan and got a grin on his face. “About time you showed up. There’s a bedroom down the hall I’m using as my office. Why don’t you throw you stuff down there and I’ll get you up to speed. It also overlooks Akmed’s apartment.”
Jordan nodded and, conscious of the rhythm in the room, moved down the hall. On his way, he ran into a Lieutenant he knew from the Philadelphia Police Department. They recognized each other at the same time. “Jim, it’s been a while. I’m glad you’re part of the team.”
“Hey, Jordan! If I knew you were going to be a part of this, I would have turned and run the other way.” They both laughed. Jim O’Keefe had been with the Philadelphia PD for thirty-one years. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah same here. I know you’ve had a tough year in Philly, with the officer killings.” Jordan gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“Can you believe it? Five this year. You’d think we were in a war zone. It just makes no sense.” O’Keefe lowered and shook his head.
“Any of them connected?”
“No. Just a bunch of two strikers who were trying to avoid their third.” Jim was referring to the three strikes rule in criminal sentencing. Third convicted offense resulted in a mandatory prison sentence.
“Unbelievable. Hey, I’ll catch up with you later.” Jordan slapped Jim on the back. Jordan believed that things had connections, but they weren’t always obvious but, to have five patrol officers killed in an eight-month time frame had a reason beyond just happening. When he had spare time, he loved to research such things for the sake of his own curiosity. Maybe, when this was over and he had some downtime, he would tackle the killings. He had many friends on the Philly force and in the DA’s office, so he could probably get the reports and talk to people who investigated each of the incidents.
He found the room and threw his bag on the floor. He went over to the window and looked out. There was a diagram to the left of the window that identified the facade of the building across the street. Jordan could match which windows belonged to Akmed’s apartment, which door led up to the apartment, as well as the store. He glanced back and forth until he was comfortable that he knew the layout.
Frank entered the room. “I’m glad you’re here. We’ve got a good team here and a
ll of the locals are cooperating, but they are all tactical. I need you to help with our strategy, which now is zero.”
“Where’s the boy?”
“He’s in the apartment, in his room. He’s reading, but should be going to sleep soon. He was pretty upset after his uncle left. He’s struggling with his father’s absence.”
“Did he call someone to talk about it?” Jordan turned, alarm in his voice that another person was now involved and had this information.
“No. He talks to himself quite a lot. It’s been helpful.”
“Thank God for personality quirks. Where’s Mustafa?”
“Home. We’ve got a team of watchers there both front and back of the house. There have been no visitors. We got a tech team on standby, ready to go in and wire the place if he leaves tonight. If he doesn’t go out, they will go in first thing tomorrow as soon as he leaves.”
“Any chance to do an outside tap now?”
“He’s got two big dogs in the yard and they are barkers. We did a walk-by and, when our guys were a half a house off, the dogs started in and didn’t stop until our guys were on the next block.”
“What’s the background check shown on Mustafa?”
“Nothing really. From Iran and been in USA for fifteen years. No problems, has a green card and is sponsored.”
“By who? What does he do?”
“He’s a manager for a cleaning service. They do offices — even have some Federal contracts. We’re doing a background on the company now. We should have it back in an hour.”
“My guess is you haven’t come up with anything pointing toward their mission’s objective.”
“No. We still come up empty. We’re hoping when we get into his house we can get the names of the other family members. That might give us a clue. If Akmed is any indication, it seems only Mustafa knows and we aren’t even sure that he isn’t getting direction from elsewhere.”
“No, I think he’s the real deal. He may be waiting for the go signal, but I think he knows what they are going after. I want to listen to the tape of the boy’s conversation with Mustafa. Who’s got the tape?”
“Follow me.” Frank led the way out of the bedroom and led Jordan down the hallway, into the family room. He walked him over to the back corner where several tape players were on the table with headphones. “Here you go. The tape is in the machine. Need anything else, just let me know.”
With that, Jordan sat down, donned the headset and pressed play.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jordan removed the headphones off and pressed the stop button on the tape player. He looked at his notepad. It contained many scribbles, thoughts and the beginnings of ideas, only to be scratched through and a new one begun but, by the end of the page, everything was scribbled over. He hadn’t gotten anything out of the tapes, other than a concerned uncle spending time with his nephew. Mustafa was shrewd, didn’t say anymore than he had to and he didn’t overplay his hand. It was going to be critical to get into Mustafa’s house. He hoped the man truly had a job, which would require him to be gone for a long period. Jordan was sure Mustafa would not leave things around for them to find so the team would have to be thorough and careful.
Jordan felt the need to talk with Frank and get updated. He wanted to ensure he was on site for the take down of Mustafa’s house. He’d originally thought he would want to spend time in the apartment across the street, while Aziz was in school but, that would have to wait. He felt Mustafa’s house could be the goldmine.
He shifted his focus from his thoughts to the people around him. There seemed to be a commotion in the room. Jordan turned to face the open room holding the command center when he saw her. He quickly turned away and, under his breath, said, “Shit. Why is she here?” But he knew it was really only a matter of time. She was the best the NSA had to offer and, his personal thoughts aside, this case needed her.
Kate Woolrich had driven up from D.C. after the Deputy Director assigned her to the case. She was the Agency’s leading expert on foreign supported domestic terrorism. She strongly believed there were cells throughout the United States, as well as Europe and Asia, just awaiting a signal from abroad to go into action. She kept a bag of clothes packed in her government Suburban and was ready to respond to the newest threat or to track down any evidence which would support her theory.
Early on in her work, she’d crossed paths with Jordan. At first, she had found some of his theories and methods unorthodox. However, as she immersed herself into the same issues, she became ever more convinced he was onto something and might be able to crack the code on how to identify and track these groups and eliminate them prior to their activation.
“I learned more about what I’m up against and it has done nothing more than embolden me to eventually demonstrate to those fools that if you keep thinking about this as just another criminal investigation, they are always going to be able to carry out their attacks and we will continue to only be able to react to them. Sometimes, I’m not sure who is the bigger enemy — the radical Islamic fundamentalists or the people who are paid to protect us. I choose not to be myopic about this. It’s real and it needs to be stopped.” Jordan had summarized in a briefing she had attended.
Kate recalled that as the moment she fell in love with Jordan Wright. She knew at the time the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. Jordan was focused. He needed to prove he was right. She felt the best she could do at the moment was to support him. Hopefully, the love would come.
She was sure on the last case they’d worked she’d pushed a little too hard. They were in upstate New York, investigating a group of Libyan immigrants who had moved to the US prior to Qaddafi denouncing terrorism. The premise was that one of two things could be happening with this group. They could be going rogue, which means they were going to go ahead with their mission and not wait for a green light from their handlers in Libya or, there was always the possibility that Qaddafi was bluffing, to prevent future air strikes to his country and was still in control of the cell.
Jordan and Kate were the only two members of the team on the ground in New York, though they had substantial support assets in their respective headquarters to process all the data and information they were gathering. It had been a tough assignment but, it also gave them downtime together. Kate fondly recalled some great dinners — not from the standpoint of food and atmosphere, since they were not near any gastronomic oasis but, rather, it was the conversation. She learned a lot about Jordan, where he’d grown up and the history of his family, along with the challenges of growing up in wealth and privilege, only to see it destroyed by his parents. It was so different from her Midwest upbringing in Ohio. Her parents both worked, her father at a local manufacturing plant making commercial food equipment, her mother a cook in the junior high school cafeteria. What they lacked in material wealth they made up in love and care for one another. Listening to Jordan made her appreciation of her parents deepen and, while she always couldn’t wait to get out of the small town of her youth, she came to feel it would be where she would want to return, to raise her own family.
One night they observed the group leaving their compound and decided to attempt to infiltrate the house. They had a warrant and moved from their observation post as quickly as possible. They had notified the command center of the suspects’ movement, but had felt it was better to take advantage of them all being gone, which was rare, versus following them to see where they were headed.
They did a quick reconnoiter of the house to ensure no one was present and also to double check there were no alarms or traps. Feeling confident that everything was how they thought it would be, they entered through the back door. The Libyans hadn’t upgraded any of the locks, so getting into the farmhouse was accomplished with relative ease. Kate moved about the first floor as Jordan headed upstairs. They uncovered a treasure trove of information about the group and its makeup. They spent over an hour looking at and photographing documents and they were able to mirror the hard drives of the
five computers they found.
Before they left, they headed to the basement and found a well-equipped chemical lab. It was hard to figure out exactly how the Libyans would utilize it, but it was obvious it could be used to create any number of explosive materials and, with the right hands and mind, some simple bio-weapons.
They felt they had pushed their time limit, so they headed out the door and back to their vehicle in the woods. Not long after they had packed their gear and begun the download of the information back to Washington, the headlights of a large SUV appeared. It stopped in front of the house and two men in overalls climbed out.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s one of ours.” Kate chuckled as the men opened up the back and removed several large cases, which they carried into the house.
“We’ve never seen these guys before, but they sure seem to be on a mission.” Jordan turned around and grabbed a larger pair of night vision binoculars off the back seat. They were too big to constantly use, but came in handy if he needed a higher level of detail. He scanned the vehicle. “It doesn’t have any plates. It’s definitely been customized with beefed up suspension, larger tires. No antennas, doesn’t seemed to be armored.”
After about forty-five minutes, the men emerged from the house and left in the vehicle.
“Should we follow them?” Kate looked over at Jordan. He nodded negatively and pointed toward the house. Kate returned her focus to the house and brought her binoculars back to her eyes.
Just then the whole area lit up as bright as a summer day as the house lifted off its foundation and exploded with a force that caused the complete destruction of the structure. Soon, pieces of wood and glass and other materials rained down on their car. Secondary explosions were coming from what was left of the basement.
Enemy Among Us-A Jordan Wright Thriller Page 10