“What’s going on?” Metz asked, directing the question to Oteri.
“I have no idea. I figured you’d know something. You’re the team lead.”
“I can assure you I don’t know anything more than you do.”
The three engaged in idle banter for a while as the remaining HRT personnel filtered in. Jermaine Simmons slipped in, taking a seat three rows back. Metz knew Simmons from his time in Iraq. Simmons had served in the Army’s 3rd Infantry Division during the U.S. takeover of Baghdad and elsewhere in Iraq. Simmons was sitting next to one of his assaulters, Jon Suzuki.
A few minutes later, the auditorium had filled nearly to capacity with the remaining HRT personnel, in addition to a number of FBI officers who occupied more senior levels within the New York office. Fleischer, a tall man at well over six feet tall with dark brown hair and a lean, muscular frame, called the meeting to order with an informal roll call, his voice easily making its way up to the top of the auditorium. Satisfied everyone was present, he immediately introduced Rose, who ambled up to the front. Rose gave them a short overview of the situation, including the potential spy, or network of spies, working within the Brooklyn Capital organization and the subsequent abductions. He also gave them a brief rundown of the unique relationship Brooklyn Capital Management had with the military and intelligence services. Rose revealed that they’d uncovered the location of another potential Chinese safe house. He concluded by revealing the main reasons why FBI leadership had decided to raid the location, which seemed to boil down to an informal calculation of the odds of a series of events occurring, including the odds of finding any of the abductees and the chances of a raid tipping the Chinese off to the source of the leak. Rose finished in just a little over fifteen minutes, at which time Fleischer replaced him at the front of the auditorium.
Fleischer said, “This whole situation with China is really unprecedented in terms of the kind of violence we’re seeing perpetrated against us on our own soil. The good news, as John mentioned, is that we’ve been able to get a tremendous amount of quality information from our source, from the audio-visual recorder on the Empress. This safe house is, of all places, at an abandoned firehouse located on 139th Street, off of Amsterdam Avenue in the Upper West Side here in Manhattan.”
Fleischer dimmed the auditorium lights, flipped on a projector, clicked on a computer mouse. Photos of the exterior of the firehouse appeared on the screen. The foundation of the structure was constructed of stone, while the three levels above ground were made of a combination of brick and stone. Each side was graced by three windows shaped like an upside-down U, with the same light-colored stone that made up the foundation tracing around the perimeter of each window.
Fleischer continued, “At a little over 9000 square feet, it’s a fairly large structure. It’s got four levels, including a garage that takes up the entirety of the lowest level. Note that the only way to exit out the front side of the building is through the garage on the lowest level.
“The exterior walls are thick and made of brick and stone, which has limited the amount of intel we’ve been able to get from our radar and thermal imaging technologies. We’ve had the most success with radar motion sensing. We’ve only been able to observe activity at ground level due to the difficulty getting the equipment near enough to the building.”
Fleischer clicked on the mouse again, and a set of floor plans appeared on the screen, scaled up for easy viewing.
“All of the floors, with the exception of the garage on alpha level have, according to the original floor plans, been split into three rooms by two partitions. However, these partitions appear to have been removed on bravo level given the movement of the people inside. You can see in the diagrams the circular openings cut into the floor at each level, through which the fire pole runs.”
Metz noted that the fire pole, assuming it was still there, ran down through the center of the building.
Fleischer clicked with the computer mouse again. The floor plans disappeared, replaced by a detailed overhead map of the building and the immediate area. “The firehouse is located on the south side of 139th Street not far from Amsterdam Avenue. It’s located within an area consisting mostly of multilevel apartment buildings with a few small businesses mixed in. We’re going to place Command in the parking lot at a school located a couple of blocks west and south of the firehouse. We’ll establish a perimeter on 139th Street, to the east and west of the building.
“The plan we’ve drawn up has two phases. The objective of the first phase is to breach the door into the garage level—which we designate as alpha level—and clear the garage of any sort of explosives or other booby traps. This first phase will be executed by Assault Team Charlie. Trumane will lead four of his men through the pedestrian door into the garage. Once the front entry is breached, the team will evaluate and clear the basement as quickly as possible. As soon as this has been accomplished, we’ll proceed with phase two.”
A hand went up.
“Yeah, Donnie,” Fleischer said.
“Are you sure we want to wait to do the main assault and not just do everything simultaneously? Seems like there’s a good chance we could tip off whoever’s inside with that initial breach into alpha level.”
Fleischer nodded. “It’s a valid point. It’s a risk-reward trade-off. After what happened last year down in Jersey, we feel that the benefit of ruling out explosives exceeds the potential cost of tipping off the Chinese.”
Metz thought about what had happened the previous year in New Jersey. They’d been called in to do a drug raid at a private residence in Camden. One of the operators on Team Hotel had lost part of his leg and two others had been severely burned when a homemade bomb went off in the basement. Metz didn’t necessarily agree that the proposed delay between the raid into the basement and the primary raids on the upper levels was warranted based solely on what happened in New Jersey. It depended on who was in the building and what kind of defenses they had. Since their intel was sketchy, it seemed to him that it was a toss-up either way.
“We share your concern, Donnie, and it’s a valid question. The intelligence we have on the building to this point indicates that there are rarely any people present in alpha level. Also, the door into the garage is a standard door and lock, and we feel pretty confident that it can be breached relatively quickly with use of a ram. If we can stay away from the use of any charges on that initial entry, we feel we have a reasonable chance at retaining the surprise element for the main assault.”
Fleischer let his words hang for a moment. “Anybody else have any questions or concerns about this?”
Trumane spoke up again. “What happens if we end up not able to breach that door into alpha level with the ram?”
“Then we’ll have you set a charge, and we will then move to do all three breaches simultaneously.”
Fleischer waited a few moments before proceeding. “Any other questions about this?” Fleischer asked. There were none, so Fleischer continued.
“In phase two, Alpha Team, led by Metz, will breach the back door, which leads into bravo level. Additionally, Echo Team, led by Jermaine, will breach the roof entrance and proceed down from there. These two breaches will occur simultaneously.
“The assault teams will be supported by Sniper Team Zulu.” Fleischer directed his statements toward Luis McCollum, who sat in a group of his Zulu men. “We want three of you situated on the apartment rooftops on the north side of 139th Street, opposite the firehouse, and two at the rear of the building. There’s a neighborhood park a couple of blocks to the north and west of the firehouse, which we’ll use as our form-up position. We’ll have a total of thirty or so operators for this mission: four in team Delta, seven each in teams Alpha and Echo, and the five snipers. There will be a few more driving the sedans, helping with the perimeter.
“We’ll approach the target structure in two waves. The first wave will be the sniper group and Team Echo. It’s going to take longer for you guys to get into posit
ion, so you’ll leave a few minutes before everyone else. At around oh four twenty, Team Echo will need to be on the roof of a commercial building adjacent to the firehouse. Once we approach the start of the raid, you all will move onto the firehouse roof. These two structures are virtually the same height and it should be easy to get from one to the other. At this time, all snipers should be in position.”
Fleischer was using a red laser pointer to highlight the locations projected on the overhead screen.
“All assaulters will arrive at the target location in armored vehicles. The vehicles will approach the firehouse from the park, southbound on Hamilton. As you guys are dropped off, the sedans will be situated to help secure the perimeter along the previously mentioned checkpoints. Two of the vehicles will be used to block off the drive leading up from the garage at the firehouse.
“Once everyone is in position, we’ll settle in for a few moments until oh four thirty and the raid will commence from there.”
Another question came from an operator seated behind Metz. “What’s behind the firehouse?” Looking behind him, Metz saw that it had come from Scott Roberts, a member of Trumane’s Team Delta.
“Yes, I was just getting to that,” Fleischer said. “Manhattan, as we know, is crowded. What we have in the immediate vicinity of the firehouse is a series of multi-level apartment buildings. They’re clustered tightly together within this particular block. There’s a narrow, paved central area behind the apartment buildings that extends all the way across the block. We’ll have our two snipers on the roof of the apartment on the opposite side of this central clearing. I shouldn’t need to say how important it is to mind your firing lines with so many people in the neighborhood. The number of people in the area of the target structure makes this a very high risk operation.”
Another question came from Jon Suzuki. “What are the rules of engagement?”
“We’ll be using the standard FBI rules. Again, I can’t stress enough the high population density within the immediate area. We need maximum discipline and discretion in your firing decisions on this one. We’re asking a lot of you, but you guys are the best there is. We wouldn’t ask it of you if we didn’t think you could handle it.”
Jeff Birch said, “Are we gonna need our night visions?”
“Affirmative, Jeff. We’ll be shutting down the electricity at the target location prior to entry. Assaulters going into the firehouse will need to be wearing the goggles.”
Fleischer stopped for a moment before continuing. “This is a unique engagement, gentlemen. This isn’t your typical hostage situation that affects only the immediate people involved. This has political and national implications and possibly even economic ones. As was mentioned earlier by Rose and myself, this whole situation is unprecedented in terms of our relationship with China and their intelligence community. I can’t stress enough how important it is for us all to bring our best to this operation. Any other questions?”
Metz glanced about the room. All the men were stone-faced. He sensed an air of quiet confidence. They’d trained hundreds, if not thousands, of hours for an engagement such as this and he was supremely confident in himself and his teammates. There were no further questions or comments, so Fleischer dismissed them. Metz followed his teammates as they filed slowly out of the auditorium, anticipating the operation.
Brooklyn, New York
Saturday, March 1, 10:23 p.m. EST
Lee rubbed her tired eyes as she finished reading a section from a text on html coding. She sighed and glanced to her right at Wang, who was sitting silently in front of one of his computers, right leg crossed over left. He’d logged in to an online music service and had it on blend mode for the past two hours, and the muted strains of a mix of genres had been filtering through a pair of speakers he’d placed on opposite sides of the room. She’d found the music a pleasant backdrop for her studies, and she’d been productive, having made it through three chapters of one of Wang’s old college textbooks. As she’d studied, she’d also been brainstorming for things to put on the website for her fictional organization.
“What do you think it should be called?” she asked.
He ran a hand through his short-cropped brown hair and shrugged. “The company? Dunno. Haven’t thought about it yet.”
Lee frowned. She rose from her chair, stretched her legs, and walked to a digital painting Wang had placed on his wall. The painting was one of the Modern Art pieces that consisted of thousands of tiny colored grains, each with its own microprocessor. The attraction for Wang was that the grains of this particular model were glow-in-the-dark, or “nuclear” as Wang referred to them. The current setting depicted a panda bear wandering through a thick tropical forest at nighttime. The colors were rendered in brilliant bright shades that stood out in the dim light of the apartment. Wang knew about her affinity for pandas and she pondered whether or not he’d set it to this painting intentionally, knowing she was visiting. She was still lost in her thoughts when a thumping sound, which could be heard over the music, came from the speakers.
“What’s that?” Lee asked.
“Just heard back from my friend in China.” His keyboard clicked rapidly as he typed out responses to Qi Luo, a hacker friend of his from Shanghai. A few moments later, he turned to her and said, “I have good news. He’s agreed to both of our requests. He’s going to let us set up our website on his server over there. He’s also agreed to set up a new phone number at his carrier in Beijing that we can use for the company number. He’ll even answer it for us for a finite period of time.”
“Oh? And what exactly would he say to Meng if he were to call?”
Wang grinned. “I have no idea. We’ll work on that later. How’s the coding going?”
Lee sighed. “Okay. It’s getting there. But I’m still not settled on what we should include on it.”
Wang dashed over and leaned in to see what she’d completed.
Lee said, “So far it’s five tabs running across the top—company mission, capabilities and solutions, industry practices, contact numbers, email addresses, and a section about the management team and the history of the company.”
“Looking good so far,” Wang said. “It looks very professional.”
“Thanks, but I’m struggling with a company name and a company mission now.”
Wang and Lee tossed out some ideas for the mission statement before there was a knocking on the door. “I’ll get it,” Lee said. “It could only be Mulala.”
Lee opened the door and staring back at her was a slender, well-dressed Indian woman. Lee smiled broadly and extended her arms as she embraced Mulala Dirhwan, an old college friend.
“Hello, Mulala.”
“Hello, Lyn,” Mulala said as she disengaged herself from Lee. Dirhwan stepped back and made a show of examining Lee. “You look fantastic.” Dirhwan spoke in English with an Indian accent.
Dirhwan, a slim five feet eight inches, was wearing a coral green three-quarter sleeve chiffon blouse, a pair of black dress pants, and black dress shoes with medium-sized heels. The green in the blouse accentuated her striking green eyes. She carried a black leather briefcase over her shoulder. Dirhwan had suffered from epilepsy for the past few years, which caused her left eyelid to droop slightly.
“Thank you, Mulala. As do you. You always look fantastic, though. You’re always so professional.”
Dirhwan smiled. “Well, you know, it’s a prerequisite where I work.”
Lee had known Dirhwan since her second year at NYU where they’d met through a mutual friend. Upon graduating, Dirhwan had been hired into a brokerage firm where she did financial analysis and valuation of Asian firms.
Lee introduced Dirhwan to Wang and they made the necessary small talk. Dirhwan politely allowed Lee to steer the conversation to pleasant topics of conversation, mostly having to do with their past experiences. After a few minutes of catching up, Lee felt obliged to broach the reason for the meet up.
“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why
I’ve requested that you meet me here,” Lee said.
Dirhwan nodded. “Well, I have an idea based on what you described over the phone.”
“I’ve only scratched the surface of my story.” Lee had already decided to inform Dirhwan of the basics of the story behind her recruitment by the FBI and her subsequent involvement in the tracking of the Chinese spy, though it was admittedly difficult as she was breaking the oath she’d given the FBI by signing the non-disclosure agreement. Dirhwan seemed fascinated by her story and genuinely surprised when Lee asked for her assistance with the website and with preparation for the pitch of her fictitious company. For professional reasons, Dirhwan made Lee promise to never disclose Dirhwan’s contributions to her effort and to refrain from any electronic communications to her on the subject. Once that was out of the way, Dirhwan agreed to help in any indirect way she could.
Lee updated Dirhwan on the work that Wang and she had already completed. She explained to Dirhwan how Wang was working on hacking Meng’s company but that Wang, after completing an initial port scan and other preliminary findings, thought it risky and time consuming to try a traditional hack. This led to a more detailed discussion on their current plan to install software on Meng’s computer by contacting him directly and posing as a fictional company. She showed Dirhwan the partially completed website.
“We’re still stuck on a name for the company,” Lee admitted.
Dirhwan said, “Well, it will probably be easier to wait and give a name to the company after we figure out what it is.”
Lee paused momentarily. “I need to try to come up with a pitch, and I have no business experience to speak of. I don’t even know where to begin.”
Mulala smiled. “You’ve come to the right person, Lyn. I worked sell-side for a few years and was always having to pitch my reports. Here, I brought a couple things for you.” She paused for a moment as she brushed away a stray lock of walnut brown hair and reached into her bag. “I brought a couple of my old books from NYU for you to reference. It’ll help you with general business principles. Keep them as long as you need them.” Lee took the books from Mulala and thanked her. “Now, you mentioned that you’re trying to invent a fictional business. Do you have an idea as to what sort of business will work for you?”
The Thought Cathedral Page 41