by Loye, Trish
No one spoke. Zach had a stony expression on his face.
Alyssa stepped forward. “It’s Qatil Atfaal,” she said, her Arabic flawless. “And it’s not a name.”
He narrowed his gaze and studied her. “Sir,” he finally said.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not a name, sir,” he said. “I believe I outrank a simple detective.”
Anger crackled though her. Was this because she’d corrected his Arabic? “I’m not a simple detective.” She crossed her arms. “Sir.”
“Let’s get one thing straight.” He turned so he spoke to the whole room. “I am the leader of this task force. If you want to be on the team that captures Al Shabah, then you will do as I say. Am I clear?”
There were a bunch of muttered acknowledgements, but Masters had turned back to her. “Am I clear?”
She narrowed her eyes. Why was he after her? Because this was her task force? Did he think she wasn’t going to cooperate? “Yes.” She couldn’t help pausing for a moment too long, watching his scowl start to form. “Sir.”
His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “I’m glad we can get along. Now tell me why you don’t think that’s a name.”
She grit her teeth. Her captain was going to hear about this asshole. “It means ‘killer of children.’”
He stared at her. “It could refer to someone in particular.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we need to find out who that is.” He turned away as if dismissing her, and opened his laptop and typed a few keys. The wall behind him lit with a map of the Middle East, with red dots scattered over Iraq, Afghanistan, and the rest of the region.
“Al Shabah has been linked to bombings against coalition forces in these locations in the last three years. He’s confined himself to the Middle East so far—”
“Actually, he hasn’t,” Alyssa said. Masters scowled even as she added a hasty, “sir.” Everyone looked at her.
“You have the floor, Detective. Enlighten us,” Masters said with a wave of his hand.
“Al Shabah means the Ghost,” she continued. “And it’s an appropriate name. His area of operation has been growing and moving west. He’s been quiet for the last six months or so, but the chatter about him on the black net has been growing, implying that an attack is imminent. This guy’s specialty is creating the bombs. I suspect he’s a chemist or chemical engineer. In Iraq, he was the bomb maker as far as we could tell, so he kept his cells extremely small. It might be likely that he’s working alone this time.”
“That doesn’t fit with the chatter we’re hearing,” Masters said.
Alyssa grimaced. “I know. But my gut says he’s working as the bomb maker and, according to the profile I’ve worked up, he’s escalating. I can give you a copy of my research.”
“That won’t be necessary. We have a profiler on the team already,” Masters said. He shut down his laptop. “Okay, people. Your captain tells me you’re the best of the best. Now’s the time to prove it. The citizens of the United States are counting on us. Show me what else you’ve got.”
He proceeded to go through each member of the team, asking them their role and what their opinions were. He bypassed her and her chin rose at the childish tactic. She left the room and went to find the captain.
“He’s an asshole,” Zach said quietly. He’d left the room with her.
“I know.” She knocked on the captain’s door. She could see him on the phone. He waved her inside as he hung up. She left Zach waiting in the hall.
“Yes, detective?”
“Special Agent Masters is here,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “He’s taken over the task force.”
The captain sighed loudly. “I know. The FBI has precedence and there’s nothing I can do. Work with him the best you can. Remember what’s important and what’s at stake.”
She nodded. It was true. It didn’t matter who was in charge as long as they stopped Al Shabah. “Yes, sir,” she said.
In the hall, Zach walked back to the Global Intelligence room with her.
“Why are you following me everywhere?” she asked.
He shrugged. “You have good instincts, remember? I’d rather we worked together than have to work under Masters.”
“You don’t even know Masters.”
“I know his type. He’s power hungry and he’s fine as long as he doesn’t see anyone challenging his authority. He will kick you off the team,” he said. “Don’t let him.” They’d reached the room and he nodded inside. “See what I mean?”
Masters stood, arms crossed over his barrel chest, glaring at Marc and Drew, who must have come in when she’d been in the captain’s office. Drew had the remains of the box bomb in his arms.
“I want an answer,” Masters said to Marc. “Who do you work for? It’s not for the DIA. I had you checked out.”
“Sir, my superiors requested I be here to help you,” Marc said.
“And yet, you can’t tell me who those superiors are. I’m in charge of this task force and I need to trust every man on this team.” He paused. “I don’t trust you.”
Marc tilted his head as he watched Masters, a slight smile on his face. “You’re not serious.”
Alyssa strode into the room and stood in front of Marc. “These men have been very helpful so far. I think it’s beneficial to have as many qualified people as possible on—”
“I’m very serious,” Masters said to Marc. “You need to leave this room and go call your superior. When I get the go-ahead from my superiors, then you’ll be allowed back in this room. Clear?”
“Sir,” Alyssa said. “You—”
“I asked if you were—”
“Stop interrupting me,” Alyssa said, a sharp edge to her voice. “This team has been—”
“This team is now mine,” Masters said, finally looking at her. “And please, Officer Harrison, there’s no need for hysterics.”
Her eyes widened and a blistering anger swelled in her. Zach gripped her arm, squeezing it, silently reminding her of his warning.
She clenched her jaw on the curse words she wanted to say. This man now had the power to take her off the task force. She had to play nice, no matter how much she wanted to strike him.
“That’s Detective Harrison,” she said. “And fine. This is your team.”
He turned to the room. “Let’s get to work, people. We’ve got a terrorist to catch.”
He issued orders to his men and hers before turning back to her. “My men haven’t eaten in hours. Can you arrange something?”
She left the room at that point, not to get food but to prevent herself from shooting him.
* * *
Zach leaned against the wall of the Global Intelligence room and watched Alyssa leave the room. He was tempted to follow her, but knew she just needed a little breathing room from Masters. Instead, he studied the agent now in charge of the task force.
Marc, who hadn’t left, came up and stuck his hands in his pockets while regarding Masters. “Now we have to work around a prick.”
“We’ve done worse,” Zach said. Masters spoke via video with another one of his agents that he’d placed in the Lower Manhattan Security Coordination Center, where the Domain Awareness System HQ was located. The DAS was a surveillance system in Manhattan that interconnected more than 3,000 video cameras around the city.
Marc frowned. “What’s he inputting into the DAS?”
Zach crossed his arms. “Probably the same parameters the police already did. A simple profile to start. Middle Eastern man. Thirties to fifties.”
“Fuck,” Marc said. “That’s going to yield only a few hundred thousand results.”
“Well, he’s not a complete idiot,” Zach said, pointing to Drew and Riley. “He’s got members of the team going over the MO of old cases.”
Marc indicated with a tilt of his head the door Alyssa had left though. “But he let one of the people who knows the case the best walk out that door.”
“
She’ll be back,” Zach said with certainty. “She’s just gone to cool off. She won’t let him deter her from doing her job.”
Marc studied him. “You like her.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “What’s not to like? She’s sexy as fuck and a firecracker. I’d totally take her to bed if she weren’t Jake’s sister.”
A small smile played on Marc’s face. “Nope. You like her more than just a jump in the sack, Doc. ‘Fess up.”
“Fuck off.”
Marc laughed.
Masters swung around, his eyes narrowing.
“Now you’ve done it,” Zach said.
Masters came over to them. He gave a great sigh and the theatrics of it made Zach want to smile.
“I’ve just received word from my superiors that you two are counterterrorism consultants assigned to my task force whether I want you or not. But make no mistake, I run this operation.”
Zach nodded. He’d known E.D.G.E. wouldn’t allow them to be pushed off the task force.
“Honestly, Agent Masters, we are your best bet for catching this guy,” Zach said. He wasn’t bragging, just stating the facts. “We’ve been told to work with you, but if you impede us in any way, then we’ll cut you out of the loop and handle it ourselves. Am I clear?”
Masters eyes narrowed further. “Yes.”
Marc slapped the man on his arm. “Don’t worry, asshole. We don’t want to run your show. We just need you to listen when we speak.”
Masters shrugged off Marc’s hand and stormed off.
Zach raised an eyebrow at Marc. “Seriously? Do you think that helped?”
“Nah, but it felt good.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “Come on, Spooky. It’s time for us to get to work.”
“You know I fucking hate that name.”
Zach smiled. “I know.”
6
The next morning, Alyssa shoved in a yoga video after waking too early from another nightmare. She preferred to run, but wanted to be able to tell Dr. Martinez when he next tracked her down that she’d tried his suggestion. And who knew, maybe yoga would be the stress reliever she needed.
Yesterday had been an exercise in futility. They’d gone over patterns, potential bomb sites, airline passenger manifestos, trolled the net for more videos. They’d come up with nothing. Her heart started to beat faster with the thought. Al Shabah was out there, and they had nothing.
So. Yoga.
She put away the scotch and glass from last night, while a man’s voice droned on about mountain pose. She glanced over. A guy with a long black ponytail just stood there with his eyes closed. He wore spandex that left little to the imagination. She snorted and stuck some bread in the toaster before pouring herself some orange juice.
Now he touched his toes.
She contemplated her own. She could probably touch them, but from experience she knew the slight headache she had would only get worse if she bent over.
She went to her medicine cabinet in the bathroom and grabbed an Advil. Back in the living room, Ponytail Guy was standing upright again and talking about deep breaths.
She slathered peanut butter on her toast while she watched him. He went through a series of moves that were similar to what she’d experienced at the steam yoga she’d gone to. She plopped on her couch to watch while she finished her toast and juice. His voice was a monotonous haze of sound in the room, making her sleepy.
She closed her eyes and listened to him drone on. Maybe yoga was good for her. Her muscles released their tension and she melted into the couch.
Minutes later she bolted upright, her hands raised as if she held a gun. She blinked away the nightmare and waited for her heart to stop thundering.
She shook her head and stood, stretching her arms over her head, trying to get rid of the last vestiges of adrenaline. She bent over to touch her toes. The Advil was working. She stood straight and then flicked off the TV. Screw yoga. If she was going to survive another day like yesterday, she needed to go for a run.
She’d go to Central Park again. Her choice to run, she told herself sternly, didn’t have anything to do with the fact that she’d seen Zach in the park yesterday.
* * *
Zach had timed his run so he could loop the park and then be at the same location he’d seen Alyssa running the day before. He’d convinced Marc to swim in the hotel pool this morning rather than run with him. Marc had just rolled his eyes. “Remember we’re on a mission.”
He’d had to beat him a little for that remark. Zach grinned as he remembered tackling Marc to the ground; their rough housing ended up breaking a lamp, but got rid of a bit of stress for both of them.
He needed to talk to Alyssa alone, and he didn’t want to do it at the office. He’d watched her work on the surveillance footage for the rest of the day, yesterday. Her talents as an analyst were wasted. He’d also noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the fact that she hadn’t eaten anything all day.
He was running in the same direction on the paved path near Strawberry Fields when he saw her. She ran at a good clip for someone her size. Her legs pumped hard and fast, her face determined, as if she were trying to outrun something.
He knew the moment she saw him. A slight hitch in her stride and then her chin lowered and she ran faster.
Huh. So that’s the way she wanted to play it.
He turned so he ran in the same direction and kept pace with her. She ran faster, still without looking at or acknowledging his presence. He checked her face just to make sure she wasn’t scared of him. It was a typical reaction to his size and, let’s face it, the color of his skin. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was, since he was so much bigger than her. It was early morning and they were away from the safety of the work environment.
One time, he’d approached a woman he’d thought was a friend on the street after dark. He’d seen her waiting for a bus and offered her a lift home. He could see the tension around her eyes and in the way she’d held herself. He’d spoken in the soothing tones one uses on spooked animals, but it had done no good. He’d had to leave her there waiting in the dark, but she’d been more scared of him than of the night. He understood, but it still didn’t stop the little twist in his gut when he thought of it.
The look on Alyssa’s face surprised him all right. A fierce scowling determination gave her the look of a warrior going into battle. He pictured some ancient Irish warrior maiden with her red hair flying out behind her. He almost laughed in delight.
Almost.
“Good morning,” he said, as if they weren’t racing down the pathway, faster than any other jogger out there.
She grunted at him and ran faster, her shapely legs enticing him to watch.
Now he grinned, and easily kept pace. “It’s a nice morning for a run. You meet so many friendly people when running in the park, you know?”
“What do you want?” She spoke between breaths.
You.
Again, the whispered thought took him aback. But he schooled his features into the same easy grin. “Just a chat.”
She pulled up, so he stopped too. She scowled at him. “I’m not going to be able to get away from you, am I?”
Too many years of being careful not to intimidate with his size had him holding up his hands. “I’m not chasing you, I just want to talk. If you’re uncomfort—”
She sliced her hand through the air. “I know that. I meant, I’m not going to be able to stop you from talking, am I?”
He let his hands drop and his grin came back. This woman kept surprising him. “Actually, no. We either chat here or in the office. I figured you’d rather not have any kind of audience.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Fine. Are we going to talk about why you’re following me?”
“I told you,” he said. “Your brother asked me to look out for you.” Though he knew Jake hadn’t intended him to watch quite so closely, or so much.
“You’re a fool if you think I need someone to look after me.”
Her lips parted and her eyes darkened. He moved forward. She gave a little shake of her head and stepped back.
A man in a ball cap and running gear stopped beside Alyssa. A German shepherd stood at his heels. The man looked between Alyssa and Zach.
“Is this guy bothering you?” he asked her.
Zach wanted to roll his eyes, but that would only inflame the situation. So he held still and kept his face blank. “We were only talking.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” the man said, and his dog growled.
Alyssa turned her scowl on the man. “We’re talking and we’re both cops. Beat it before I give you a ticket for running with your dog off leash.”
The man stepped back, his face surprised. “I thought…”
“I know what you thought,” she snapped. “Now get lost.”
He muttered something and took off, his dog pacing him.
Alyssa watched the man go. “Do you deal with that a lot?”
“You mean instinctive prejudice?” he said. “In some places more than others. Besides, that guy thought he was helping.”
The scowl was back and directed at him. “Don’t defend him.”
He laughed.
The way her lips compressed, he suspected that she smothered a smile. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. “It was nice of you to defend me,” he said. “I don’t get that often. I’m a big black man. Most women are scared of me.”
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised at his words, him or her.
Oddly, her scowl seemed to increase. “I’m not most women.”
That’s the truth.
She studied him a moment. “How long have you been taking care of others?”
The question rattled him, and he wasn’t sure why. This woman made him feel like he was walking into an ambush. He turned and started walking back the way they’d come.