When the Stars Fell From the Sky

by David Spell

  Tu was born in South Vietnam. His mother had met and fallen in love with an American special forces soldier towards the end of the United State's involvement in Southeast Asia. Mai, his mother, did not know she was pregnant with him until his father had deployed back to America.

  Mai realized that she would probably never see Bobby Donaldson again. She persisted in trying to get a message to him, both by mail and by pestering the small contingent of Americans left in South Vietnam to get a message to the Green Beret staff sergeant. After not hearing anything for months, Mai gave up and focused on having her baby and trying to survive under the communist regime.

  Over the years, Tu's mother loved to tell the story about how one night, after a year and a half had passed, a stranger had shown up at their small apartment. He told Mai that he was one of the South Vietnamese soldiers that Donaldson had trained. He had a message for her from Bobby. She was to pack a few belongings and show up at the port the next evening with her toddler son.

  Mai followed the mysterious man's instructions and reported to the port of Ho Chi Minh City. Another stranger approached her there and told her to follow him. He led her and her son to a medium sized cargo ship that was bearing a French flag. They were secured aboard in a small cabin and told to stay out of sight.

  This messenger let her know that when they docked at Cherbourg, France, the next week, someone would meet her. Mai was scared for herself and for Tu but she trusted Bobby and followed the instructions without question. An American man with passable Vietnamese had met her in Cherbourg and driven them to the United States Embassy. As they drove through the gate and Mai saw the American flag waving in the breeze she started crying, knowing that her son was going to grow up under that flag rather than in Vietnam.

  Bobby Donaldson had received several of Mai's messages in Fayetteville, North Carolina and had begun working immediately to get his girlfriend and son to America. It was not an easy process and he spent his entire savings and then some to pay off the right people. He utilized the network in Vietnam that he had developed while serving there, training their special forces. Both of the messengers he had used were South Vietnamese Green Berets and were devoted to him.

  Donaldson had also worked closely with CIA agents in Southeast Asia and had performed many missions for them. He had no problem calling in favors with the Agency. They greased a number of palms, using Bobby's money, of course, but the CIA had made things happen. The agent who had met Mai and Tu at the French port had American passports waiting for them.

  When they arrived in North Carolina a few days later, Bobby was at the airport in Fayetteville in civilian clothes. One of Tu's favorite framed photos was of his parents crying on the tarmac that day, with himself squished in the middle of their tearful embrace. His mother and father were wed in the chapel at Fort Bragg the next week.

  Tu followed in his father's footsteps and joined the army, becoming an Airborne Ranger and then a Green Beret. The young man's proudest moment was at his graduation ceremony when his father had placed the green beret on his head, saluted him, shook his hand, and then grabbed him in a bear hug.

  After fifteen years in the army, Trang met Gi. She was a second generation Korean who worked as a nurse at Fort Bragg. When they decided to get married, he knew it was time to get out of the army. He had had a wonderful time but he wanted to be a good husband and eventually, a good father.

  Tu applied to the Federal Bureau of Investigation but, without a college degree, they weren't interested. He then applied to the Secret Service and was quickly offered a job. After almost five years there, working a variety of assignments and protection details, he heard that his friend, Luis García, was going to work for the newly created CDC enforcement unit.

  Trang knew that something was up. He had heard of how Luis had been shafted by the Secret Service brass for something he had had no control over. If García was going to work for the new agency, this was worth taking a closer look at. Tu called Luis and asked him about his new job. Before long, he was working for the CDC as well, just out of a different office.

  The silver BMW X4 was parked in the front parking lot, surrounded by the cars of mall customers. Tu did not see anyone in the vehicle but realized they could be lying down. He called the Fairfax County Police Department and gave them his location at the mall, his description, his vehicle's description, and asked the officers to join him. Trang did not want the police to mistake him for a terrorist.

  The former special forces soldier approached the stolen vehicle cautiously. He drew his Glock and held it at a low-ready stance, using the flashlight attached to his pistol to illuminate the interior. After confirming the vehicle was unoccupied, he holstered his gun and sent Walker a quick text. The three marked police cars pulled to a stop nearby.

  Trang briefed the police on what he had. He requested someone from the PD's Explosive Ordinance Disposal Unit respond to make sure the vehicle wasn't rigged with any devices. It would be up to the sergeant to decide what the police should do in the mall. The sergeant got on the phone and within minutes let him know their SWAT Team was on the way. Better safe than sorry. When the other CDC officers arrived, they would request to see surveillance camera video in the mall security office.

  After an EOD officer checked the car for booby traps, Tu asked the local police impound it and he called one of CDC Clean Up Teams to process the vehicle. Trang had been as shocked as anyone at the death and devastation that this suspect had caused at the University of Georgia. They had to get this guy.

  Fifteen minutes later, another marked Fairfax County Police car pulled up. The officer approached Tu holding a piece of paper.

  "I heard that you guys were here over the radio. You're with the CDC Enforcement Unit?"

  Tu held out his hand. "I am. Tu Trang Donaldson. I'm one of the team leaders."

  The officer shook his hand. "Officer Davis. I have some bad news for you. Do you know Bob Murray? Does he work for you guys?"

  "Yeah, he's the officer-in-charge of the DC office. He's my boss. Why?"

  "I just arrested him for Driving Under the Influence. He was in a vehicle accident just up the road from here. He blew a .16 grams on the Breathalyzer. The other driver he hit had minor injuries. Then, your boss tried to flee on foot. Actually, I think he was going to try and steal my police car but he was so drunk, I could see it coming. He got tazed and a little banged up himself when he fell down. Both cars are totaled."

  Trang shrugged and shook his head. "Yep, that sounds like Bob. Sorry you had to deal with that, officer."

  "You don't seem surprised?"

  "No, everybody knows that Bob has a drinking problem. I just thought he was smart enough to drink at home and stay off the road."

  "He told me he was on his way down here to the mall to deal with an incident involving national security. Have you talked to him tonight?"

  "No, our other team leader notified him of what they were dealing with. We're working a case here and a few of your other guys are helping us. I guess Bob wanted to come and supervise."

  "That's too bad. Are you going to bail him out?"

  Tu laughed. "Not hardly. We're dealing with something pretty big here. I'll let the chain of command at the CDC know and somebody else can go deal with Bob."

  #

  Alexandria, Virginia, Thursday, 2000 hours

  Terrell Hill lay on the small bed with his hands behind his head in the sparsely decorated room. The room gave him flashbacks to his cell at the Reidsville State Penitentiary. He had spent almost six years in that maximum-security prison. There were some really bad people in that place. I guess that includes me, he thought. How many thousands of people did I kill last week?

  He had converted to Islam in prison because those were the coolest guys in the place and nobody messed with them. He did not understand the tenets of the Muslim faith, nor did he care. As a Muslim, no one bothered him for the entire time he was incarcerated.

  Today had been an interesting day. Usama had foun
d Hill in the food court inside The Springfield Town Center Mall. The guy was good. He slipped right up on me, Terrell thought, and was sitting across from me in that booth before I even knew he was there. I wonder how long he had been watching me?

  Terrell had spent the night before at a Day's Inn in Alexandria. The dude he had talked to on the phone had instructed him to go to the mall and eat lunch at 1215 hours on Thursday and someone would meet him. The food court was packed at that time and Terrell immediately understood the wisdom of meeting in such a crowded place.

  Usama had short, dark hair and a salt and pepper beard. He was smaller than Hill but he had intense eyes. Terrell had the same feeling with Usama that he'd had with Amir al-Razi. This was a dangerous man.

  "We have a safe house near here. We would like you to come there and tell us everything about the attack last week in Georgia and discuss other operations."

  Terrell looked into the Middle Eastern man's eyes. The accented voice sounded like the same one he had talked to on the phone.

  "Ok. That would be good. I want you know, though, I can't work for free. I'm sure we can make some kind of deal and help each other out."

  "Of course," nodded Usama. "We want to debrief you on what you and Amir did and then decide the next best attack. We will pay you well."

  Hill smiled. That was what he wanted to hear. "Sounds like a plan."

  "One more thing," Usama said. "When we get to the house, you have to give me your gun. I will give it back to you or give you a better one when you leave."

  "Man, I don't want to give up my piece."

  "I'm sorry. This is non-negotiable. The man in charge does not allow any guns in the house. But, we have access to many weapons and can give you anything you want when you leave."

  The carrot on a stick approach worked and Terrell nodded. "Alright, man. No problem."

  Today, he and Usama had talked for hours. He had been asked to describe every detail of the attacks in Athens. Of course, Hill only knew what his role was. Al-Razi had kept him in the dark about what parts other people had played. Since it appeared that Amir was out of the picture, though, Terrell played up his own role and made it sound like he had helped Amir plan everything out.

  Another black guy had come to the house in the afternoon. Haseem was the only name Terrell had gotten. He had not wanted to talk but Hill had seen the jailhouse tattoos. Maybe he was going to be working, too. Or, maybe he was some extra muscle to make sure Terrell did not try to leave.

  Usama had worked in the garage for several hours on something after the debriefing. He told Terrell they had another car for him to drive, another SUV, but it wasn't quite ready yet. It made Hill feel good that they already had a vehicle for him. They needed him enough to pay him and to give him another ride.

  Usama had eventually retired to one of the other bedrooms but had told Terrell that tomorrow the imam was coming to talk to him. This must be the guy, Hill thought. He'll be the one to offer me a mission. This holy war stuff might end up making Terrell Hill one wealthy man.

  #

  The Springfield Town Center Mall, Thursday, 2215 hours

  The security office wasn't big enough to hold everyone. Eddie, Jay, Tu, and Fairfax County police sergeant, Paul Moore, were all crowded around a computer monitor as mall security officer, Mike Jenkins, searched through video footage from the last thirty-six hours. The Fairfax County SWAT Team was patrolling the mall in their full tactical gear. The CDC officers walked the mall, as well, looking for any indication that the zombie virus had been released.

  After hearing of the incident with Bob Murray, Admiral Williams had acted quickly. Tu was now the acting OIC of the Washington, D.C., office. Now that Eddie had been briefed on who the CDC was really working for and being supported by, he could appreciate why the CIA had recruited the caliber of men surrounding him. Tu and Jay both had an extensive special operations background in the military and Trang also had some federal law enforcement experience. These guys knew what needed to be done and having Agent Murray out of the picture did not slow them down at all.

  Security Officer Jenkins started with the camera facing the front parking lot and finally found the footage of the stolen BMW pulling into the mall the previous day. They all watched Terrell Hill saunter inside, his ball cap cocked to the side, his pants tugged low, gangster style. Everyone was surprised he had not chopped off the dreadlocks to try and disguise his appearance.

  Jenkins marked the time and then changed to the camera inside the front door. It picked up Hill as he continued towards the food court. Another camera change and Terrell was observed buying his lunch at the Burger King kiosk and then seating himself at a table in the middle of the dining area to eat his Whopper and fries. The officers all studied the terrorist and waited to see what he would do next.

  After a few minutes, a bearded man who looked Middle Eastern came from the periphery of the dining area and slipped into the booth across from Hill, startling him. He was wearing a ball cap, as well, but his was pulled down low onto his forehead. They had a conversation and then left together, exiting on the other side of the mall. The security officer was able to track them out of the building and into the parking lot.

  They climbed into a white Chevrolet Astrovan and drove out of the parking lot, heading north towards Franconia Road, a highway running east and west. Jenkins zoomed in and was able to get the license plate. Sergeant Moore called his dispatcher over the phone to get the registration information on the tag.

  "Can you print out some stills of those two guys together?" Eddie asked Jenkins.

  "Sure, no problem," Jenkins quickly answered, glad to help out. He had no idea what these two men had done but with the Fairfax County SWAT Team walking the mall and the CDC Enforcement Unit in his small office, it was clearly bigger than anything else he had done as a mall cop.

  Walker looked at Marshall. "Any ideas for IDing that second guy? He looks Middle Eastern and might be one of the big players in all of this. I've got a feeling I've seen him somewhere before, maybe in Iraq."

  "That's the problem with dealing with stuff this time of night," said Trang. "I can call the DHS switchboard and see if they can point me in the right direction."

  "Let me make a phone call," said Eddie. "My boss in Atlanta is pretty persuasive."

  By 2300 hours, the mystery man who met with Terrell Hill was identified as Usama Husan Zayad. Chuck had texted the pictures to Admiral William's aide, Shaun Taylor, and told him they needed to know who he was ASAP. Taylor got to work and McCain soon had a name and a bio, which put him in The Who's Who of the terrorist world. The CDC officers and the police sergeant were in the hallway outside the security office as Eddie told them what they had found out.

  "Usama Husan Zayad is the worst of the worst. His speciality is explosives, specifically car bombs, suicide vests, and IEDs. He was a suspect in multiple assassinations of business people and politicians in Baghdad who were trying to work with the Americans. He was one of the guys who had his own playing card but they were never able to find him. And, now it sounds like the powers that be had no clue that he was in America."

  For several years during the war in Iraq, high-value targets were listed in a deck of playing cards. Fifty-two of the most notorious terrorists, including Saddam Hussein and his sons were contained in the cards. The goal was to help the American soldiers memorize the terrorist's faces as they played poker.

  Walker nodded. "I thought he looked familiar. We went looking for him a couple of times over there and came up empty. We met several of his associates, who are no longer with us, but we never could track him down."

  Eddie and Tu both understood the implication of what Jay had just said. If SEAL Team Six had been given the assignment of tracking down Usama Husan Zayad, he was even more dangerous than they had first thought. Team Six only went after the most notorious terrorists.

  "Sarge," asked Trang, turning back to the county officer who was listening intently, "what did you find out about that car regi
stration?

  "It comes back to an address a few miles from here. It's registered to an Islamic charity but the street address is a residence. I've already sent an officer to do a drive-by in an unmarked car to see what he can see."

  "That's good work. Thanks for that," Tu said to the sergeant.

  "What now, Eddie?" asked Jay.

  "If we can confirm that the vehicle we saw them leave in is at that address, I say we get a search warrant and hit the house. Hill is wanted and Zayad is a known terrorist. There's no telling what else we might find there."

  Trang and Walker both smiled. "Sounds like we're just getting started tonight," said Jay.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Layers of the Onion

  Springfield, Virginia, Friday, 0130 hours

  The CDC officers and the SWAT Team relocated to the elementary school on Franconia Road, less than a mile from their target location on Higham Drive. A Fairfax County officer had radioed in that the white van was parked in the driveway next to an identical Astrovan. The tag on the second vehicle was registered to the same Islamic charity. There were no lights on at the residence.

  Eddie and Sergeant Moore had gone to the Fairfax County Courthouse to get the search warrant from the on-call judge. The police officers at the school talked quietly and checked their equipment as they waited. The local SWAT officers knew that their role would be to support the federal officers but they were fine with that. Four SWAT snipers were already in place, watching the front and rear of the residence through their night-vision scopes.

  Sergeant Moore's police cruiser turned into the parking lot of the school and drove around to the rear where the officers waited. Eddie got out of the passenger door holding some papers. Everyone circled around the big man, ready to get briefed and go to work.