Pursuit Of Honor

by Flynn Vince

  Coleman nodded and headed back down the hallway. Rapp collected his thoughts and went back into the cell. Lewis and Hakim were talking. Rapp stood behind his chair and placed his hands on the back. They were discussing Karim’s temper. Rapp was only half listening to what Hakim was saying. At the moment he was more concerned with how they were going to bring this sordid mess out of the dark covert world and into the transparent world of law enforcement. He didn’t doubt for a minute that it had to be done. It was just a question of how. Rapp was trying to figure that out when Hakim said something that caught his attention.

  “What did you just say?” Rapp asked Hakim.

  “He was very proud of his men. The six that were killed in the attack on your terrorism facility.”

  “No… just before that. You said something else.”

  “He was upset with me for doubting his bravery. He was very upset with your president for calling his men cowards. He said we were going to go to Washington and show the world that your president is a liar. Show-”

  “Washington?” Rapp asked. “Are you sure he said Washington?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I believe him. I mean… he might send Ahmed. That was part of his original plan. To turn Ahmed loose in downtown Washington and let him kill as many people as he could before you managed to stop him.”

  “Ahmed is a trained sniper?”

  “Yes. And he’s very good. I saw him work in Afghanistan.”

  “But he said you were all going to Washington?”

  “Yes. To martyr ourselves.” Hakim shook his head. “But I do not think Karim will do it. He is too vain.”

  There was a knock on the door and then it was yanked open. This time Coleman didn’t wait for Rapp to come out. “The second message was left at twelve-oh-four this afternoon. It pinged a tower just off Sixty-six and Jackson Lee.”

  “Shit.” Rapp started pacing. His hand was forced. They had to bust this thing wide open. He grabbed his BlackBerry from his pocket and was about to call Kennedy when he saw Nash’s name pop up on the caller ID. Rapp thought he might be with Kennedy so he answered the call. He listened for a few seconds and then said, “Mike, slow down. Are you sure?” Rapp listened for another few beats and as he listened to Nash explain himself he felt his stomach begin to twist into knots. “We’ll be right there. Don’t do anything crazy… just wait for us to get there.”

  CHAPTER 72

  MCLEAN, VIRGINIA

  NASH came speeding down his street at close to seventy miles an hour. He slammed on the brakes and came to a stop directly in front of his house. Maggie was out the door and up the walk like a shot. He’d already told her what he wanted her to do and explained it in a voice that made it clear there was no room for debate. They weren’t even halfway through their first glass of wine when he decided to call home and check on the kids. He tried the home number first and then Shannon’s mobile number and got nothing. His tension began to rise, and Maggie did her spousal duty and told him to relax. Five minutes later he got the same result, and his blood began to boil. Maggie tried to reassure him by offering what she thought were plausible explanations. He didn’t buy any of them and started dialing the phone every sixty seconds until finally on the fifth try Jack answered.

  The ten-year-old’s weak attempt at a cover story crumbled in the face of his father’s anger, and he spilled the beans. Nash threw two twenties on the table and grabbed his wife by the wrist. Nash offered his apologies to the poor manager who had so proudly set aside his best table. Maggie mumbled something about one of the kids’ being sick. They ran two red lights and were home in less than two minutes. During the brief car ride Nash explained that she was to go into the house, lock the door, turn on the alarm, and grab one of his guns from the safe in the mudroom. When Maggie tried to tell him he was over-reacting, he ignored her and hoped she was right.

  Nash made sure Maggie was in the house and then sped off. He stopped at the end of the block and looked both ways. There was nothing but a few parked cars. He wondered which way she would have turned and guessed right. He sped off and stopped in the middle of the next intersection. He looked left and then right. Two blocks down he saw the lights of a police cruiser. Nash spun the wheel and floored it. As he drew closer he saw the minivan just beyond the police car parked in the middle of the street. The driver’s door was open. Nash threw the car into park and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been stopped for driving without an adult in the car. His worst fears behind him, he got out and approached the police officer, who was standing on the boulevard talking with a woman who looked to be in her late forties.

  “The other vehicle sped around the van and stopped in front of it. Blocking the road.”

  Nash froze. He looked past the van. There was no other vehicle. He turned to look in the back of the police car, expecting to see his daughter. It was empty. Nash’s heart began to race.

  “Two men,” he heard the woman say. “They were in a big black Suburban. Both of them dressed like those FBI guys in all black. They cut her off and then pulled her from the van. They threw her in the backseat of the Suburban and took off that way, toward Glebe Road.”

  Nash joined them on the boulevard. He checked his emotions and looked at the police officer. “My name is Mike Nash. I work counter-terrorism for the CIA. That is my van and that was my daughter who was taken. I need you to get on your radio and put out an Amber alert on that truck and those men and my fifteen-year-old daughter. Her name is Shannon Nash.” Nash stared at the dumbfounded officer for a few seconds and then said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d step on it, officer. Before I lose my cool and start screaming.”

  The officer nodded. “I recognize you from your photo.”

  “Yes,” said Nash, “I’m going to call the FBI right now. Please,” Nash said urgently, “get that Amber alert out right now.”

  The officer grabbed his shoulder-mounted radio and called in to his dispatcher. Nash called Art Harris from the FBI and filled him in as best he could. Harris said he would dispatch agents to the scene immediately, as well as to the house, and that he would make sure that the Amber alert was in place. He was about to call Rapp when his phone rang. He looked down and saw Shannon’s face smiling back at him. The call was from her.

  Nash swallowed hard and answered his phone. “Hello.”

  No one spoke for a second, and then a man with a slight accent said, “I have your daughter.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Daddy!” The voice was cut short.

  “Is that proof enough?”

  Nash closed his eyes and told himself to keep it together. “What do you want?”

  “I want you.”

  “All right.”

  “I will trade your life for hers.”

  Nash was nodding without knowing it. “All right. Where do you want to meet?”

  “You will know soon enough.”

  “I’m right here. I’m standing in the exact spot where you pulled her from the van. Come back. I’ll put my gun in the middle of the street and we’ll make the exchange.”

  There was laughter. “We will see who is the real coward. The world will see who is the real coward. In one hour you will know where we will make the exchange.”

  “How?”

  “Turn on your TV.”

  The line went dead. Nash stared at his phone, his hand beginning to shake. He was about to call Maggie, but stopped. He had no idea what he would say to her. He decided to call Rapp instead. If anyone could figure a way out of this it would be him.

  CHAPTER 73

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  AHMED drove down Constitution Avenue and took a right onto Twenty-second Street. The service entrance for the building was up ahead on the left halfway down the block. It was Saturday evening, so the only person they expected to deal with was a night watchman. Karim had the young girl gagged and tied in the backseat. Ahmed pulled over and got out. He walked around the back of the truck and opened the big double doors. He grabbed his long bl
ack rifle bag and closed the doors. Karim met him on the sidewalk and held up the phone.

  “Remember… we’ll use the radio feature to communicate.”

  Ahmed nodded. “Yes.”

  “And when you see me parked in front and you are ready you will begin calling the TV stations. And then you will radio me.”

  “I have all the numbers programmed.”

  “Good.” Karim held out his arms and embraced Ahmed. It was the first time he had ever hugged the man. “I am very proud of you. This is what we should have done a week ago. I should have never allowed that snake Hakim to talk me out of it.”

  Ahmed nodded even though he wasn’t sure he believed him. “Allahu Akbar.”

  “Allahu Akbar.”

  Ahmed moved up the walk and found the back door. There was a buzzer to the left. He pressed it twice and a few seconds later a voice asked him what he wanted. “FBI,” he said in near perfect English.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Ahmed looked at his pistol and thought about the plan. An old man in a security uniform appeared on the other side of the glass door and opened it for him.

  “What can I help you with?”

  Ahmed stayed with the plan even though he wasn’t sure his heart was in it. “We have a possible hostage situation in the park. I need to set up a position on your roof so I can observe.”

  “Sure. Come on in. Let me show you how to get up there.” The man led him to an elevator that they took to the top floor. From there they made their way down the hall to a back staircase and up another flight. They stepped into the dark night, and the security guard led the way to the southern edge of the building.

  Two hundred yards away the massive columns of the Lincoln Memorial were bathed in bright light. Ahmed had to hand it to Karim. It was quite the setting to send a message. He slowly drew his gun while the old man was occupied with the view.

  “I like to come up here on breaks sometimes. You look around and realize there’s a God out there. How else could all of this have happened? Through chaos… I don’t think so.”

  Ahmed slowly slid the gun back into the holster. Karim had ordered him to kill the man, but he couldn’t do it. There was no honor in killing unarmed people. He wrapped his big arms around the man’s neck and head and pinched off the main artery in the neck. He kept the pressure on until he felt the man go limp. Then he dragged him out of the way and tied him up. It took less than a minute. Back at the building’s edge he rolled out his mat and set up his M-40 sniper rifle.

  He took a quick peek through the scope and acquired the Suburban. It was parked on the street in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Ahmed pulled out the phone and began calling the various TV stations and asking for the news director at each one. There were five in all.

  After the last one, he pressed the button on the side of the radio and said, “It is done.” Ahmed turned his attention to the Suburban and watched it drive up on the grass and then begin its climb up the steps. Rifle fire began cracking through the still night. Ahmed brought his field binoculars up to his eyes and watched the Suburban lurch forward. Beyond the vehicle he saw people crumple to the ground as they were shot by Karim. He shook his head at the senseless carnage and began to pray.

  CHAPTER 74

  LINCOLN MEMORIAL

  BY the time Rapp and Nash got to the Lincoln Memorial the Park Police and the D.C. Metro Police had the place cordoned off. TV crews were both northeast and southeast of the barricades and the police were trying unsuccessfully to move them back. Both departments had big fire-truck-sized command vehicles parked out front. Rapp displayed his Homeland Security credentials at the checkpoint and told the officer to allow the next vehicle to follow as well. He had Nash in the front seat next to him. Reavers was in the backseat directly behind Nash. Rapp had quietly given the retired SEAL orders to shadow Nash wherever he went.

  Dr. Lewis was in the Suburban behind them with some of Coleman’s other men and Hakim al Harbi. Lewis had convinced Rapp that they should bring Hakim along. Based on the voicemail messages they had reviewed and his cooperation so far, Lewis felt Hakim might be able to offer some insight into Karim’s mind. Rapp had some other possible uses in mind, but so far wasn’t willing to share them with the group. Coleman and Wicker were on their way with Max Johnson and his surveillance van. They were going to try to get a fix on the third cell phone that Hakim had given to Ahmed. For now they were assuming that Karim was inside the monument with at least one very important hostage. Rapp parked as close to the command posts as he could get, and then jumped out and raced to cut off Nash.

  “Slow down, Mike,” Rapp said as he grabbed him by the left arm. He had barely said a word on the twelve-minute drive in from his house. For obvious reasons Rapp was concerned that he might do something stupid.

  Nash turned and took a big swing at Rapp, his right fist sailing in a wild roundhouse punch.

  Rapp ducked just in time and felt the punch brush the top of his head. He brought his fists up to block his face and took a quick step back.

  “Fuck you!” Nash screamed. His eyes were filled with tears and his face was flushed with anger. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t fucking outed me none of this would have happened. You put me and my family at risk and I will never forgive you. So fuck off and get the hell away from me.” Nash turned and stalked off toward the command vehicles.

  Rapp had been waiting for it. He’d been feeling it himself. He just hadn’t expected it to come this soon. He looked at Reavers and jerked his head in the direction Nash had just gone. “Follow him. Stay close.”

  Dr. Lewis came up. Hakim was a few steps behind him with a guy on each arm. His wrists were bound with flex cuffs but no other restraints. Lewis looked at Rapp and said, “That was unfortunate, but I think understandable considering the circumstances.”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Rapp said. He was already trying to figure out a way to make things right. He knew what he’d do if he had a daughter. He started moving toward the command vehicles. He tapped his earpiece and said, “Scott, give me a sitrep.”

  “We’re close. Just passing Watergate. Should be there in sixty seconds.”

  “Anything so far?”

  “He has both signals, but we won’t be able to pinpoint until we get a little closer and stop.”

  “Roger that.” Rapp did a 360 and looked at the terrain. “My money’s on the north side if he’s not in there with him.”

  “Got it.”

  Rapp looked at Hakim and asked, “What’s his endgame?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Are you holding back on me?”

  “No. I would have never thought he’d paint himself into a corner like this.”

  Rapp looked at all the police, the camera crews, and the spectators.

  Lewis seemed to be reading his mind and said, “He’s created a stage for himself. You provoked him,” Lewis said to Hakim, “by telling him you would tell the world that he was a coward. He’s so narcissistic that his reputation means everything to him. He can’t bear the thought of people saying those things about him, so he’s going to make sure no one ever doubts his bravery.”

  “But he kidnapped a fifteen-year-old girl,” Hakim said.

  Lewis pointed at Nash, who was talking to the police. “That’s who he’s after. You said it yourself… that he flew into a rage during the press conference after the medal ceremony. He thinks that he will kill an American hero on this grand stage and that he will be revered and celebrated by millions of Muslims the world over.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.” Rapp turned and walked over to where Nash was talking to all the police brass. Fortunately, Art Harris was approaching the same point from the opposite side of the circle. Nash was already arguing with the two officers in charge.

  “I’m not going to say it again. That’s my daughter in there. He wants me. When he calls, I’m going in, and she’s coming out. It’s as simple as that.”

  Harris was weari
ng his FBI tactical vest. He introduced himself to the two on-scene commanders and told them that the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team was inbound from Quantico. “And no one,” he said to the group, “is doing anything until they get here. Federal property,” he said as he pointed to the statue of Lincoln, “and they kidnapped her in Virginia and brought her into the District. It’s the FBI’s jurisdiction.”

  “I don’t give a shit whose jurisdiction it is. That’s my daughter in there. When he calls back I’m going in. And I don’t want HRT fucking this thing up.”

  “Mike, I understand your situation here, but you’re not in charge.”

  “Fuck you, Art.” Nash pointed at the building and screamed, “That’s my daughter in there! Shannon! You’ve known her since she was a little kid. What would you do if that was Shelly? Would you trust HRT, or would you go in there and trade your life for your daughter’s?”

  Rapp heard Coleman’s voice come over his earpiece and stepped away from the group. “Say again.”

  “Max thinks he has a fix on the sniper. Says he’s due north of your position. Constitution and Twenty-third.”

  Rapp stepped out from behind the command vehicle and looked north. The building’s roof was in plain view above the trees. Rapp’s eyes swept left. There was nothing. He moved them right along the tree line. The buildings on this part of Constitution Avenue occupied entire city blocks. The next block had a peaked roof, but the next block after that housed the Federal Reserve. It was a big, flat-roofed monster. “Slick,” Rapp said, using Wicker’s nickname.

  “Yeah, Mitch.”

  “Get over to the Federal Reserve and settle in at the southwest corner of the roof. Let me know when you have this guy in your sights.”