Terrorist Attack Under Capitol Hill: Murder And Mayhem In D.C. (Todd Boling Series Book 1)

by R. A. Lamb

  “I couldn’t --”

  “Of course you can. It’s perfect.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t know how I’ll repay you.”

  “Don’t be silly, Cowboy, I’ll think of a way,” Kathy said with a devilish grin.

  The rain had almost stopped. Kathy opened her umbrella, “I took the metro. I thought it would be quicker than fighting traffic and finding a place to park. The Federal Triangle Station’s over there.”

  We boarded the metro blue line and got off at Rosslyn. Her green Honda was in the parking lot. We went to her apartment and picked up the key. We didn’t say much. Kathy looked tense and my mind was on what happened at the safe house. I was wound pretty tight.

  Her Aunt’s house was in Maple Hills, a suburb of, Fairfax, Virginia. It was on a quiet street of well-kept yards and large trees. We entered a red brick house and Kathy showed me around, a quaint living room, tidy kitchen, three bedrooms decorated with a woman’s touch. There was a nice back yard with a chain link fence and lots of flowering bushes and hanging baskets.

  Kathy picked up a hose and handed it to me. “You water and I’ll go to the strip mall and get you some frozen dinners and some things for breakfast. You may be here a few days.”

  I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue so I said, “In that case cinnamon raisin bagels or maybe blueberry and if they have fresh muffins, ah, banana-nut and how about a bag of frozen crinkle fries, ranch beans, maybe hamburger, and sesame --”

  Kathy had her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side, “Enough, you get what you get and that’s that.”

  She turned to leave and said over her shoulder, “Check out her son Jay’s closet. He’s in Afghanistan and wouldn’t mind if you borrowed a few things. Back soon.”

  I had a thought as I followed her to her car, “Seriously, Kathy, see if you can find a disposable cell phone. In fact we’ll need two. I’ll pay you back.”

  “Really?” she looked at me quizzically, got in her car and drove off.

  I went to the backyard. Life almost seemed normal, birds, flowers, trees. I finished watering and wound up the hose, went inside and found a collection of tee shirts and jeans in Jay’s closet. I chose a green tee shirt with Booyah in white letters on the back and pulled on a pair of faded jeans. They were a little big but okay.

  Kathy returned and started putting things away. I helped. There were bagels, muffins, crinkle fries and…

  She caught my smile, “The clerk never heard of ranch beans so I got pork and beans.”

  “Fit for a king, I smiled.”

  “Well king, here are the cell phones you asked for. Why do you want them?”

  “I think my cell can be traced. GPS or something. I know I’m being paranoid but if you and I have disposable phones no one will be looking for those numbers and I can call you.”

  “That’s pretty good for a Texas cowboy. Did you see that on TV?” There was that grin again.

  “How about giving me a break?”

  “Fair enough, anything else before I head out, Kathy ran her fingers through her hair?”

  “You’ve done more than I could ask for. Thanks, Kathy.”

  She got in her car and drove off. As it disappeared around the corner I already missed her.

  The rest of the night was pretty ordinary. I made a frozen spaghetti and meatball dinner in the microwave, watched some TV and got a much needed night’s sleep.

  The next morning over juice and two toasted cinnamon raisin bagels covered with peanut butter the same thoughts ran over and over through my mind, Wrong place, wrong time. How could I be so lucky? I can’t go back so I’ve got to find a way out of this. Who can I trust at the bureau?

  I picked up the cell and dialed.

  “Holland here.”

  “Hank, this is Todd Boling.”

  “Where are you? We’ve issued an APB. We need to find you before the terrorists do.”

  “I’m in hiding. Agents Adams and Blakely were shoot. Did you see…? It was terrible.”

  “I saw. I was there Todd. I’m sorry --”

  “Was it the terrorists? Did that Alkobar guy tell you anything?”

  “Nothing that really helped, we have a lot of agents following leads.”

  Did you find the terrorists’ cell?”

  “Not yet, Todd, but we’ll keep at it.”

  “When do you think it’s safe for me to --?”

  “Hold on Todd. I need to tell you the bad news. While Suky was being transferred to a federal facility he grabbed a gun and shot his guards. I don’t think he’ll get far in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs but we don’t have him yet.”

  My chest tightened as I caught my breath. Everything was going wrong. “Crap, Hank, how could that happen?”

  “Todd, where are you? I’ll get you and --”

  “Hank, I’ve got to think. Not now, I’ll call you later.” I hit the end button and cut Hank off. It couldn’t get much worse; a terrorist escaped who wanted me dead, police I can’t trust, people killed. My mind whirled. Into the dead phone I shouted, “Crap, Hank, crap.”

  Chapter 6

  I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, stared at the TV but didn’t turn it on. I made a fist and held it with my other hand and squeezed.

  I’m safe for a couple of days, or until I make a mistake, I thought. Kathy has helped all she can. I don’t want to put her in danger.

  The rest of the day was agonizing. The hours dragged. I felt nervous, jumpy, knowing there was no help in sight, nowhere to go.

  My cell rang. It was Kathy, “Todd, how are you?”

  I tried to sound cheerful, “Fine Kathy. “You? How was work?” I just wanted to hear her voice.

  “I wanted to call earlier but I thought it was safer when I got to my apartment. I didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.”

  “That was good thinking. The way things are going, you never know.”

  “Todd, you don’t sound like yourself. What’s wrong? Do you want me to come over and --”

  “No, no, I mean nothing’s wrong. I just have a lot on my mind. You know.” I was hoping she would insist. She didn’t.

  “You’re the main topic of conversation at the office. If it’s not talking about the bombing at the tunnel it’s speculating where you might be hiding. I almost wanted to --”

  You didn’t say anything did you?”

  “Of course not, silly.”

  We talked a while longer. She must have sensed my mind was elsewhere, “I’ll call tomorrow and I’m coming over. How about burgers and fries? Okay?”

  “And pork and beans,” I returned.

  I tossed most of the night. The shooting at the safe house kept going through my mind. I saw Agent Blakely fire his gun, spin and fall on the grass. I saw it over and over again. Finally sunlight crept into my room. I felt stiff and groggy as I made my way to the bathroom. The hot shower helped clear my head. I looked into the fogged mirror, used my towel to wipe it off and stared at my reflection. None of this is real. Is it? I’ll wake up soon. Right?

  I had breakfast on the back patio, sat there long after I finished and stared into space. I thought about calling Hank or Kathy but decided against it and puttered around inside. Things had moved so fast and now there was nothing to do but wait. I didn’t know which was worse. In spite of the danger I liked the action.

  Finally the disposable cell phone rang. It was good to hear her voice. “Kathy, you’re still coming tonight, right?”

  “Congressman Bradford just called. The FBI’s looking for you. I didn’t know what to tell them.”

  “Don’t tell anyone where I am. I called Hank yesterday and told him I would contact him today but I don’t know if I should meet him.”

  “Why wouldn’t you do that, Todd?”

  “He told me Alkobar escaped. I’m not sure I want anyone but you to know where I am. If I meet him here my cover’s blown.”

  “I understand but if you decide to meet him, there’s a c
ollege campus a few blocks away. You could find a place there.” Kathy gave me instructions to George Mason University.

  “Great idea, I’ll call you later. And thanks for all you’ve done.”

  In jeans, tee shirt and sneakers I headed out. George Mason was a large campus. There was an open square near a building called Student Union. Good as any, I thought and went into the Union to call Hank.

  “It’ll take me a while to get there.”

  “Come alone, Hank. I won’t meet if you don’t.”

  I bought a coffee and a blueberry muffin at the snack bar and settled in a chair by a window overlooking the square. The campus was bustling with students with backpacks, some carrying books, everyone in a hurry. Summer school. Looks like fun.

  Time dragged and then I saw Hank’s familiar face in the square. He took a seat on a bench and waited.

  I took out my cell and he answered immediately.

  “Holland.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Can’t you see me?”

  “I can see you. Are you alone?”

  “Yes Todd, just as you asked,” there was irritation in his voice.

  “Come into the Student Union and wait for me in the TV lounge.” I hung up and watched. Hank entered the Union. I hid behind a student newspaper as Hank went by. There was nothing suspicious outside, only students dressed like me going this way and that.

  There were a couple of girls drinking coffee in the lounge and a guy in cutoffs and tee shirt watching TV. Hank had taken a seat in the corner. I pulled a chair over and sat down.

  “Pretty cloak and dagger, Todd. You okay?”

  “I’m tense, Hank, tense. Have you caught Alkobar yet?”

  “Not yet, he’s gone to ground, probably with his group. We think he’s still in the DC area though.”

  “Tell me about him, Hank. Is he a Middle Eastern spy?”

  “Suky is actually a British citizen. His parents were carpet merchants from Pakistan. They immigrated to England in the mid 90’s and set up an import/ export business in London. Did very well.”

  I interrupted, “That explains his British accent.”

  Hank fidgeted, “Scotland Yard kept track of them starting in “98”. In 2005 his parents were arrested for drug smuggling and sent to prison. Suky’s father was stabbed in a fight in the exercise yard the next year and died. His mother caught pneumonia in “09” and died in the prison hospital.”

  I shifted in my chair, “He’s had it pretty tough.” I glanced around to see if anyone was watching us.

  Hank went on, “Suky was taken in by an uncle who had extremist ties back in Pakistan. They lived in a flat in Lower Kensington and Suky ran with a gang of skin heads. They all had heavy tattoos and it’s probably where Suky earned his.”

  “What do you mean earned his?”

  “According to the Yard’s dossier Suky was involved in a bombing in Kensington’s theater district where six were killed and several injured. He was suspected in other explosions but there was no hard evidence. He’s a known Al-Qaida sympathizer and possibly where he got his explosives training.”

  “So why is he in the US?”

  “His uncle sent him here, to do what, we don’t know, but Suky got into a few scrapes with the law. We first thought it was gang related; now we know it’s deeper than that. Suky’s a bad guy on a mission and we need to take him down.”

  “Do you have a plan? I mean how are you going to do it?”

  “Yes I have a plan and it involves setting a trap. Todd, you can help.”

  “Me. Are you serious? A small town Texan, just out of high school? How can I help?”

  “Suky wants you pretty bad. You’re our only witness to the Capitol Hill tunnel explosion. If he thought he could get to you he might try.”

  “Damn. You want me to be the bait?”

  “Nothing so dramatic. We’ll leak where you are and keep you under surveillance 24/7. You’ll need to wear a wire. When they show we’ll move in. This time we’ll be ready. You up to it?”

  “I don’t know, I think there’s already a leak in your office or in the DC Police. How else could they have found me so easily? For all I know Hank you might be that leak.”

  “If that’s what you think get up and leave. I won’t try to follow. The stakes are high. There were some encrypted files on that flash drive we found in the locker. We finally broke them.”

  “What were they?”

  “There were some Al-Qaida training footage and a list of high profile locations with pictures of sites in some large US cities. There were several pictures in DC, Macy’s in New York, the Sears Tower in Chicago and Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. There were even some shots of the refineries near Houston and Ellington air base in Clear Lake, Texas.”

  “Clear Lake, that’s pretty close to my home. Surely you don’t think this terrorist cell could do all that.”

  “Your right, we don’t. We believe the cell is a hub connecting other cells scattered around the US and we think Suky is a key communicator. That’s why we need to get him and soon.”

  “I don’t know Hank. The Congressman’s office told me my parents were flying in. Mom will be freaked out. I need to tell them I’m okay and what’s going on.”

  “If you agree to help I can’t let you do that. If you’re part of this then you’re part of a classified operation. That means need to know.”

  “What about my --”

  “Congressman Bradford’s office called us. They had a staffer meet your folks at Dulles when they arrived. We’ve arranged to take them to Langley for a briefing. For once the CIA is being cooperative. They’re safe. Decide now Todd. Get up and leave or let’s go to my car.”

  We headed out.

  “The guys I graduated with won’t believe this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they’re getting ready to go to college and I’m getting ready to go to hell.” I turned toward Hank. He had a slight grin.

  We continued walking, “What do I have to do, Hank?”

  We were in sight of the SUV when Hank’s cell rang. After answering he listened for quite a while then said, “We need to make a detour to Trowbridge before we get started.”

  “Trowbridge? Never heard of it. What’s going on, Hank?”

  “A strange shooting, two people were gunned down by rifle fire, heavy caliber, maybe a military weapon. My boss thinks it could be related to terrorist activity.”

  “What do you mean strange?”

  “There wasn’t any shooter. A sniper rifle was found hooked up to a black box in the back of a beaten up van. We’ll know more when we get there.”

  We climbed into Hank’s SUV and got onto I-66 heading east. Hank turned on his siren and drove at varying speeds as we zigged and zagged around traffic which pulled to the side to let us pass. I had the same feeling of excitement in my gut as I did the first time I rode a roller coaster at Six Flags. When we crossed the Potomac, Hank raised his voice over the background noise. “Trowbridge is about twenty minutes from here in the outskirts of DC. It’s an old industrial area now pretty run down.”

  I didn’t say anything just held on as we swerved through traffic and listened to Hank shout over the blaring sound of the siren.

  “Now it’s mostly abandoned buildings, junk yards and concrete pads where buildings used to be. Gangs have moved in and claimed the territory.”

  I looked at him, “Couldn’t these shootings just be gang related?”

  “They could or they couldn’t. What made the FBI suspicious was the type of weapon used and how it was hooked up.”

  It still didn’t make much sense but I decided to let it ride until we got there. It must have been fifteen minutes later when I saw a sign which read Trowbridge, One Mile. The sign was rusted and the post was tilted to one side.

  As we got closer I saw what Hank meant. There was a block of frame row houses ahead of us. The yards, what little there were, were bare except for the litter of paper cups and
empty bottles and the buildings needed paint if you didn’t count graffiti on their walls as paint.

  We drove a few more blocks and Hank turned off his siren. As we approached, I saw a half a dozen squad cars, an ambulance and two fire trucks, all with lights flashing, and the familiar band of yellow tape blocked access to the area. My heart began pumping double time as we climbed out of the SUV.

  “Stay close and no talking,” Hank said as we ducked under the yellow tape.

  We walked toward a policeman whose name tag read Captain Tillman. Hank introduced himself and the captain seemed to be expecting him. “Good to meet you, Holland. The CSI’s are ready to do their thing on the van but we held them off until you arrived. I figured you’d want to get a fresh peek.” The captain gave me the once over.

  “He’s with me Captain and thanks for preserving the crime scene. What can you tell me about the victims?”

  I could see two tarp covered mounds lying on the sidewalk some thirty yards away.

  “One is an African American, name, Josh Johnson, age twenty, the other a white guy, Benny Hammerick aka Benny the Hammer age nineteen, both in the same gang, the Golden Phoenix. This is their turf. Both were shot twice in the right chest, both died instantly and bled out on the sidewalk.”

  Hank scribbled on his notepad, “Anything else?”

  “Both were dopers wanted on armed burglary and battery charges. They had seen the inside of a cell many times. The perp did the city a favor.” Tillman raised an eyebrow and continued, “I’m curious why the FBI is so interested in a gang bang shooting. Care to share?”

  “Share anything I can, Captain but I’m just getting up to speed so may I see the van?”

  Captain Tillman seemed to take that okay and led Hank and me to the vehicle. It was a really banged up, early 2000’s, dark green, Dodge minivan. It fit the décor of the area perfectly. I noticed it did have Virginia license plates. Hank opened the side panel sliding door and looked in.

  “Whew, whoever drove this last was a heavy smoker.”

  I smelled the pungent almost biting odor of burned tobacco. Hank opened the passenger side door. Inside, the vehicle had a black vinyl bench seat, a floor shift and an open glove compartment. I looked in to see the contents of the glove box. It was empty except for a folded map of DC. I did notice keys were in the ignition and turned to mention it but Hank’s eyes were already fixed on them. He looked at me and nodded.