by Gary Ponzo
The tech specialist seemed to understand the question. “Okay, well, Semir’s shoes had significant amounts of chlorine and moisture. When I say moisture I mean saturated H2O. This type of fresh water is found primarily around lakes, rivers and streams. There’s very little chance this concentration of moisture was the result of recent rainfall. The molecular structure just doesn’t match up.”
Nick and Walt were sitting back now, hands in their laps, like they were listening to a good bedtime story.
“And the two guys you scraped from the cabin last night?” Nick asked.
“The same,” Stevie said. “The samples I took from their shoes were identical to Semir’s. Wherever Semir was, they were there within the past seventy-two hours.”
“And you found this on only two of the men’s shoes?” Walt asked.
“Yes. And one other thing. I sent samples to Phoenix just to verify my results and they came back with even more detail. They’ve also found traces of copper in all three of their shoes.”
“Copper?” Nick said.
“Yes.”
Nick looked to his right and caught Walt’s shrug.
“Not sure what that means,” Walt said.
“There’s some copper mines in the area,” Nick said. “Maybe that’s where they’ve kept the Semtex.”
“It’s possible,” Walt said. “What’s the name of the power company which handles the dams in the area?”
“Salt River Project,” Nick said, then considered the question. “I like where you’re going.” He looked at Stevie. “Get a high end SRP engineer over here as soon as possible. Tell them it’s a matter of national security.”
“Got it,” Stevie said, then shut the door behind him.
Nick stood up and smoothed out the paper map with his one good hand. He’d had every federal building protected, every national park. “No matter how much I look at this map, I just can’t find anything which could cause significant damage with a large amount of Semtex. A building, yes. A park, sure. But there are no sporting events or large concerts scheduled for today. Everything points to Palo Verde or Hoover Dam.”
Walt nodded. “Agreed. That’s why I’m taking the helicopter up to the dam.”
“Then, I’m going with you,” Nick said.
“No,” Walt held up his hand. “I need you right here controlling things. As information comes in, I need you here to analyze it and react.”
“But—”
“No!” Walt bellowed. He stood and tugged up on his pants. He reached down to pick up his laptop, then returned his gaze on Nick. His face softened. “I need you to use your instincts, okay? All this technology just gives us charts and graphs and spreadsheets, but I need you here to decipher what all of it means.”
Nick looked down at the map. “I don’t know, Walt. My instincts got five good men killed last night.”
Walt pointed a long, thick index finger at him. “Don’t you dare,” he growled. “Barzani is an animal, but to anticipate he’d sacrifice his entire team of loyal soldiers is insane. You did exactly what any—”
There was a quick knock, then the door opened. A field agent from Phoenix stuck his head in. “Someone just found a dead body in some bushes outside of a condominium complex about three miles from here. It doesn’t fit Barzani’s description.”
“Send Tompkins,” Nick said. “And have him take a couple of people with him to canvass the area.”
The door shut. Nick and Walt looked at each other. There wasn’t much more to say. They both wanted the same thing and neither one had any more insight than the other.
“I’m leaving,” Walt said. As he headed toward the door, he pointed to his temple. “Use it,” he said.
• • •
President Merrick drummed his fingers on the Oval Office desk and listened to the discussion going on in the War Room via speakerphone. With him were Fisk, Himes, Vice President Gregory Hearns and his main speechwriter, Chester Grant.
Grant was scribbling notes on a legal pad while everyone else was engaged in the ongoing flow of communications with the basement full of intelligence officers.
Lynn Harding was just finishing the latest update on the security of Palo Verde Nuclear Power Plant and Hoover Dam in Arizona.
“So there’s no chance of a nuclear incident, correct?” Merrick asked.
A delay always seemed to occur whenever the President wanted definite answers.
“Sir,” FBI Director Louis Dutton said over the speakerphone. “We can’t deal in absolutes here, but if you’re asking if Palo Verde is secure, the answer is yes.”
Merrick shook his head. “Come on, Louis, give me something I can grab on to. What are the chances of an incident occurring there tonight?”
“With everything we know about Barzani’s manpower, or lack of manpower, plus the amount of security being applied, I would say you would have a better chance of getting hit by lightning.”
Fisk let out a nasty chuckle.
Merrick placed his hands over his eyes and moaned. “Thanks for the analogy, Louis, however, I’ve already been hit by lightning before.”
“Not tonight you haven’t,” Dutton recovered quickly.
Merrick stood and looked out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. The room was quiet, while muted conversations drifted over the speakerphone. A tone of excitement bubbled up from the periphery of the conversations. The words “fighter jets” became audible.
Merrick turned and leaned over the dome-shaped speaker on his desk. “What about fighters?” he asked.
CIA Director Ken Morris spoke. “Sir, Turkey has just deployed a squad of fighter jets over western Kurdistan. They’re currently in a surveillance formation, but that’s how most of their missions begin.”
“What does this mean?”
“We don’t know, Sir. Not yet anyway. We’ll continue to monitor.”
Merrick returned to the window. His back to the room. “Any thoughts?” he said to his assembly.
“Sounds like Budarry might be ready to bomb Kurdistan,” Vice President Hearns said.
“Not a chance,” Fisk said and left it there.
“Why not, Sam?” Merrick asked over his shoulder.
“Because you’re about to offer your unilateral support for the Turkish people and a killing campaign wouldn’t exactly make him look like a team player. He’s neurotic, but he’s not stupid.”
Merrick nodded.
“Sir,” Morris said, over the speaker, “now there’s a small unit of Turkish soldiers heading down a road toward Karliova. This is the city where the KSF headquarters is located, it’s also Temir Barzani’s hometown. It’s where his family still resides.”
“Small unit?” Merrick asked.
“One tank, followed by one truck. The truck is a large transport vehicle covered with a canvas top. Many times used to move troops. However, it is large enough to carry a short-range missile.”
“Shit,” Merrick said, rubbing his chin. “What is he doing?”
“It could be his way of warning Barzani not to implement a terrorist attack on American soil,” Morris said. “He might’ve sent a threat directly to the KSF. The fighters could be there to pave the way for their attack.”
“Would he do that?” Merrick asked. “Would that work? Would that stop Barzani from detonating a bomb?”
Silence.
“We’re not sure, Sir,” came a voice Merrick couldn’t distinguish.
“I’ll bet I know who could answer that,” Fisk said.
Merrick looked at Fisk and immediately knew who he was referring to. He bent over and pushed a button on the phone. “Rose,” he said. “Get me Nick Bracco.”
Chapter 27
Nick was circling various parts of the map with different colored pens designating the quantity of troops sent to each region. He was making sure he didn’t miss anything. Tommy had just arrived with sandwiches and sat across from him with his feet on the desk, waiting for instructions.
Tommy pointed to th
e sandwich still sitting on Nick’s desk. “You need to eat something,” he said. “You need some protein to keep you going.”
Nick absently unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. His cell phone vibrated and he took the call. “Yes,” he said, while chomping his food.
“It’s Memu,” FBI agent Tompkins reported. “Barzani’s personal security guard. He’s been strangled to death.”
“Great,” Nick said. “Barzani has now officially killed every member of his crew.”
“Maybe he’s done us a favor,” Tomkins said.
“Doubtful,” Nick said. “He’s just crazy with revenge and he’s not going to leave any loose ends.”
“No one’s seen anything. You want me to continue to canvass the area?”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “Give it another hour. You don’t come up with anything, head back.”
“Got it.”
Nick put his phone on the desk and took another bite of his sandwich.
“You gonna find this guy?” Tommy said, slurping soda from a straw.
“I don’t have a choice,” Nick said, and meant it. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and grabbed a vial of pills. He opened the amber bottle and dropped half the pills on the map, then picked the correct ones and put the rest away.
“How many times a day you have to take that stuff, Nicky?”
“Right now, three times a day,” he said, then popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed.
“You need to get off that crap. It’s doing more damage than good.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I know you. One minute you’re all jittery, the next you look like you’re falling asleep.”
“Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept in two nights?”
Tommy grinned. “Don’t start using facts to mess up my diagnosis.”
“Sorry, Dr. Bracco.”
The door opened and Matt came in looking like he’d just run a marathon. He lumbered over to Tommy and dropped into the chair next to him. There were large bags under his eyes. He leaned back and stretched his legs up onto the desk beside Tommy’s.
“Well,” Tommy said. “How’s our girl?”
Matt seemed to consider the question, as if it was complicated. “Well, she went in for X-rays at one and by three-thirty this morning she was in surgery.”
“You’re kidding,” Nick said. “Why didn’t you call?”
Matt gave him a look. “Like you don’t have enough on your plate?”
“How is she?” Tommy asked.
Matt turned and looked at Tommy with a deadpan expression. “Her neck is fractured. The doctor said her spine was so jumbled, if she tried to get up, she could’ve easily become a quadriplegic, or worse.” Matt reached a tired hand over and gently grabbed Tommy’s arm. “You might have saved her life.”
Tommy put his sandwich down on his lap and frowned. “Don’t get all dramatic on me now. I saw her flying around like a ragdoll. Anyone else would’ve done the same thing.”
“No, you’re wrong,” Matt said. “No one else would’ve thought to keep her down like that. Anyone else would have gotten her help or offered their jacket … but you knew exactly the right thing to do at the right moment.”
Tommy took a big bite of his sandwich and with a mouthful of bread and meat said, “Okay, you’re on to me. I’m a jack of all trades. I know a little bit about everything. Even spinal cord injuries.”
“Well, I want to say something,” Matt said. “I owe you a big apology.”
“Why?”
“Because from the moment you came to Payson, I’ve been riding your ass and you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
Tommy swallowed a large chunk of his sandwich in one gulp, then slurped down some of his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He pursed his lips out and closed his eyes. “You wanna kiss me now?”
Matt shook his head and grinned. “Maybe later.”
“Good. I’ll run out and get some breath mints.”
Nick crumpled up the paper from his sandwich and tossed it in the trash below his desk. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah, she’ll need to stay in bed for a week or so, then a neck brace for a while, but the doctor says she’ll recover just fine.”
Matt looked over at Tommy. “Could you do me one favor?”
“Shoot.”
“Well, with Barzani still loose and this Russian in the area … I need someone to watch her while I help Nick. Someone I can trust.”
Tommy smiled. He stood up and tossed his sandwich wrappings into the trash, then grabbed his drink. “It would be my honor, Agent McColm.” He saluted Nick as he opened the door to leave. “Pardon me, Sheriff, but I have a security detail to tend to.”
The door shut and the two of them looked at each other.
“You know you’ve just paid him the biggest compliment you could give him,” Nick said. “Trust is everything in his world.”
“Yeah, I know. Fact is, I probably trust him more than anyone besides you.”
Nick’s cell phone danced on his desk from the vibration mode. He answered, “Bracco.”
“Please hold for the President of the United States,” a women’s voice said.
Nick twisted the phone away from his mouth and said, “Merrick.”
Matt raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“Nick,” President Merrick said over a speakerphone. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Sir.”
“Well, I have Hearns, Fisk and Himes with me today. We’re discussing strategy over here.”
Nick sat back in his chair and watched Matt swipe half of his sandwich and stare down at the map.
“How can I help?” Nick asked.
“Budarry has deployed fighter pilots over the western edge of Kurdistan.”
“Near Karliova?”
“Exactly. There’s also a tank and a covered truck on the way there right now. You see what’s going on?”
“I can guess.”
“Good. That’s what I need to know. If the KSF headquarters is threatened by a severe attack, maybe even Barzani’s family, would that be enough to dissuade Barzani from detonating a bomb here in the states?”
Nick sighed. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Sir. But Temir Barzani has just murdered every single KSF soldier in his crew, including his longtime personal security guard. The man has no soul. Threats to the KSF or his family are futile.”
There was no reply. Some distorted voices in the background muttered sounds of discontent.
“Well, Nick, that’s pretty straightforward. That leads me to my next question. How close are we to finding Barzani?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“That bad, huh?”
“He’s had six months to prepare for this moment,” Nick said. “That’s the part that bothers me.”
“What are we missing?”
“We’ve got every available law enforcement officer on the street. I’m getting information emailed to me every five or ten minutes. We’ll figure it out, Sir. I just need enough time.”
“How does two hours and fifteen minutes sound?”
Nick looked up at the clock on the wall. That’s when the President’s speech was scheduled. “That sounds just fine, Mr. President.”
“Nick, you’ve saved my bacon once before. Am I going to the well one too many times to ask you to do it again?”
Nick suddenly found himself sitting upright. “No, Sir, of course not.”
“You understand I need to do what’s best for the country, not necessarily what’s best for Arizona.”
Nick didn’t need to respond to that. He understood the reference.
“You have my private cell number, right?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Good. Then use it, the minute you have Barzani.”
“Will do, Sir.”
“Oh, and Nick, do me a favor will you?” There was a smile in the President’s voice. “Don’t wait unt
il the last minute, okay? My heart isn’t what it used to be.”
“Neither is mine, Sir.”
Chapter 28
Matt was downing his third cup of coffee when he hung up the phone with Walt Jackson. Nick was barely keeping his eyes open, so Matt told him to take a ten minute cat nap on the couch. He’d let Nick go twenty since he was snoring in less than two minutes. Now, he went over and gave him a gentle kick.
Nick woke startled. His head jerked up, immediately grabbed his shoulder and winced from the unexpected jolt.
“Sorry,” Matt said. “We have less than an hour.”
Nick got up and went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. Matt heard the water running. A minute later, Nick returned with his hair sopping wet while rubbing it with a cloth towel.
“Where were we?” Nick asked with a yawn.
Matt was already on a knee organizing his duffle bag with the gear he needed. “I just got off the phone with Walt,” Matt said. “One of Ken’s goons just did a number on Semir and got him to admit their plan involved a giant flood.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Matt got up and pretended he was about to slap Nick’s face. “Wake up. I just got off the phone with Walt ten seconds before I kicked you. There’s a helicopter waiting for us at the hospital to take us to Hoover Dam. We can still make it before Merrick’s speech.”
Nick threw his towel onto the couch, grabbed his cell phone from his desk and said, “Let’s go.”
As they made it out the front door, a Salt River Project truck was idling next to the sheriff’s car, side-by-side, the driver’s side doors lining up. The SRP worker was leaning out his window and talking to Stevie Gilpin who was already behind the driver’s seat of the sheriff’s car with a giant box next to him in the passenger seat.
Matt opened the back door to the sheriff’s car for Nick to get in.
Nick went up to the SRP driver and said over the noise of the loud diesel engine, “You’re a little late for the party. We’ve already got things figured out. There may be a terrorist trying to bomb Hoover Dam. You might want to warn any employees up there to stay above the water line.”
The man said nothing. He did nothing. He simply rubbed his bald head and stared, like he was in deep thought.