by Terry Keys
He’d given me the important information. I could sit here and ask him questions for the next hour and still not get to everything. I needed to get Fingers scouring the net for anything he could find on God’s Warriors or Allah Maharib.
I stood up to shake his hand. When our hands clasped, I pulled him close to me. In a stage whisper I asked, “Do you know Rokan Sheth?” Rael’s eye widened. He hadn’t spoken, but I was certain by his response that he knew something about the man.
I released the grip on Rael’s hand. He leaned back in and whispered, “I know him. Can’t talk now. There is one other thing . . .”
Chapter 20
I turned to walk out of the room. My heart raced. If what Rael told me was true, a few hours of research could put me right on top of these guys.
Everyone in the next room stared at me as I walked in.
I fell back a step as I felt a nudge from behind. “What the hell was that all about, Porter?” Stagg demanded.
“Stagg,” Captain Park growled back. “Stand down.” Then Park turned to me.
“Porter, you care to tell me what the whispering biz is about? That how you boys handle things down in Texas?”
I took a step closer to him. “We men do what we have to do down in Texas to get stuff done. I’ll tell you what we don’t do, and that is piss off someone who you know only a few days ago would’ve blown your head off and not thought twice about it. Not when that person is trying to give us information that could lead to maybe saving the planet.”
Park didn’t respond.
Stagg tapped me on the shoulder again. “You some kind of Muslim lover or something, Porter?”
I put my hands up. “I think my time here is done. We all just heard Rael give us information that could lead us to Allah Maharib’s capture. I think all of our collective energy should be spent trying to find them, no? And I don’t hate people of any religion, Stagg.”
Three more Special Agents stood in front of the door. As I approached it, I wasn’t sure if they were going to move. Their body language suggested otherwise.
“Let him through,” Park ordered. The men moved and Park followed me out.
“Porter, good job on getting us the intel we needed. Now the hard part begins, putting these puzzle pieces together. You want to tell me what you two were whispering about?”
“Not really. I mean, there’s a reason I whispered to begin with. No disrespect, but the tighter I keep this lid, the better chance I have of the info not getting to the bad guys before I do.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s not ideal, but these circumstances are kind of extreme. I don’t usually operate like this, but there are a lot of moving parts, and I’m still trying to decide which way is up. I start throwing names out, and bad guys start disappearing.”
“Sorry, but I don’t follow.”
“I got my eye on a guy that no one knows I’m looking for. Right now he doesn’t even know he’s on my radar. I’d like to keep it that way until I find him.”
“So did Rael know who he was?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And how did you find out about this mystery man?”
“Seems like I looked in a place where no one else was looking, and I got lucky is all. But I’m very certain this guy is the mastermind boot on the ground here in the U.S.”
“Stagg’s a good guy. Just gets a little fiery sometimes.”
“Well, it almost cost us a solid lead. Can’t say that I haven’t flown off the handle a time or two,” I said with a smile. “Thanks for letting me sit in. I gotta get back on a bird to Houston in forty-five minutes.”
We bid our farewell, and one of his guys drove me back to the airport. I’d never seen DC like this. Of course, DC had never been in the nuclear crosshairs quite like this either.
Before I jumped on my plane, I text Paul, Mullinski, and Chief Hill to fill them in and get them started. I looked down at my phone as it buzzed. It was a call from a DC area code.
“Porter speaking.”
“Porter, it’s Captain Park. You’re going to have to catch another flight. You’ve been requested to sit in on a top-level meeting that is taking place in thirty minutes.”
“By who?”
“The President of the United States.”
Chapter 21
I wanted to get back home and start tracking down Rokan Sheth. I was convinced he would lead me to El Printo and God’s Warriors. I also needed to find the hidden piece of intel Rael had whispered about to me. But for now, all of that would no doubt be put on hold. At least for the next few hours.
Park told me to stand outside terminal five, and my ride would be here in less than ten.
I’d met with President Obama a few times during his presidency, but it was never under such dire circumstances. Before I knew it, a blacked-out Expedition screeched to a halt beside me.
Nothing about my job made me nervous, but if I were being honest with myself, this upcoming meeting made me a little anxious. It was certain to include a roomful of important government officials, including the president, the secretary of defense, and the directors of the FBI, CIA, and Homeland Security.
The Expedition door opened, and a black-suited agent stepped out. “Detective Porter, we need you to come with us.”
I climbed in and got settled. Me, four stone-faced agents, plus the driver. These guys were as emotionless and unreadable as I’d ever seen anyone. I had my back to the dash, but I could tell we were traveling at about one hundred miles an hour. No one said a word the entire ride.
Ten minutes later, I was whisked out of the truck and into the White House. Scores of security were everywhere. The place was as hectic as HPD headquarters had been before I left Houston. The only difference here was everyone had on black suits and dark sunglasses.
“We are heading to the situation room now, sir,” one of the agents said into a wrist speaker.
As we got to the door of the room, another agent abruptly stepped in front of the door.
“If you have a weapon, we’re going to need it now.”
I handed over my nine and stepped into the room.
Sitting down about thirty feet in front of me was Jackie Wilson, President of the United States. I swallowed hard.
Wilson stood up and walked over to me.
“Detective Porter, Jackie Wilson,” she said, offering her hand.
“Madam President, it’s a pleasure.”
“This is General Raft,” she added. “I believe you already know the other men here.”
Curt greetings were exchanged around the table. “Please have a seat, detective.” The president gestured for me to sit down at the fifty-seat conference room table.
My heart raced—not too much but enough where I was afraid it showed. I was sitting in a war room with the president of the United States. And I wasn’t here to talk about March Madness or who I thought was going to win the NBA championship.
“I’d like to keep this meeting very short, Detective. My team and I have been briefed on your involvement and, more importantly, your pedigree. You are quite the accomplished man and, from what I’ve been told, one of the best criminal detectives alive. I don’t have to explain to you what’s at stake here. I’ve been in contact with Russia, China, and a litany of dignitaries around the world the last forty-eight hours. I tell them our best men are on the case and their leaders are safe. Unfortunately, I don’t feel very confident in the last part of that statement. A few countries have already put us on the clock. Return their leader safely in two days, or they’re sending their own men.”
General Raft, a broad-shouldered, white-haired man of about sixty, turned my way.
“Listen, we can’t take another casualty. Not unless we want a nuke to land in New York or California. Right now we have too many questions and not enough answers. President Wilson is holding a presser here in twenty, and she’s going to announce you being a major part of the team efforts. Can you bring us up to speed on what we do know
?”
I told them everything I knew about El Printo, Hasan, Rael, God’s Warriors, and what I’d guessed to be the cause of death for Awad and Yoshida. I even considered telling them about Rokan Sheth and the last piece of intel Rael had whispered to me. Or maybe I wouldn’t.
I noticed the look on their faces—fear mixed with a handful of disbelief. They all looked around at each other. Some shook their heads, while others sat with hands over their mouths.
“Detective, how could you have possibly learned so much in such a short amount of time, when we don’t even know half of that?” President Wilson asked, or maybe she said it in an accusatory tone toward the rest of the men in the room.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I typically attack each case the same way. And I look for the same thing at every crime scene I visit. What is here or was here that wasn’t supposed to be? How did it get there and how did it leave? Or better yet, is it gone? That could be people or things. And I have the best team in the world. I’ve read one hundred books on criminals and written a dozen. Once I find out who I’m dealing with, the next thing is to identify how that person would commit the crime. Then I just follow the bread crumbs.”
“Fascinating,” she said, still eyeing the rest of the room.
“Thank you.”
“You ever think about working for the White House? We could use someone with your skills heading up our counterterrorism team. Give it some thought.”
I nodded and tried to hide a growing smile inside of me.
“There anything else you can or need to tell us?” Wilson asked me.
I took a deep breathe. I decided I should come clean with the rest of the intel. This wasn’t the crowd to play keep-away with.
“Well, there’s one . . . maybe two more things.”
Wilson cocked her head. “You got seven minutes,” she said.
“Only need two. I’ve got my eye on an American born man with Pakistani parents and ties named Rokan Sheth. Sheth exchanged a package with another man a few days prior to Yoshida’s death in Houston’s Chinatown. The two men were about fifty yards from the restaurant where he was murdered. I’ve done some digging into Sheth, and he isn’t here to run a tanning salon, that’s for sure. During my interrogation of Rael, I asked him if he knew Sheth and if he was involved. He alluded to yes and said we would have to talk later, when fewer eyes and ears were around.”
“Well, so far, Mr. Porter, you’re turning out to be all that I’d heard and more. I’m impressed, and if you watched any of my campaign, you know I don’t impress easy.”
She stood up to leave, and I figured I should spill the last part of the beans in regard to what Rael whispered to me.
“Madam President, there’s one more thing.”
She motioned for me to talk.
“I may have a location on Rael’s cell phone. He hid it during his travels. If I can find that phone, I’ll have potential phone numbers for some of the bad guys. Cell phone numbers may mean triangulated signals. Which may lead us to the bad guys. If they’re smart, they’re burners.”
Chapter 22
I was again whisked out of the conference room and shoveled into another. I’d been a part of many press conferences but none like this. At least one hundred reporters lined the room. Two to three dozen more Secret Service agents also peppered the room.
We were five minutes away from going live, and I would be introduced to the world, along with a few other men, as being lead detectives on quite possibly the most imminent threat to world security in recent times. My head swam a little. El Printo and God’s Warriors weren’t simply trying to scare a few people from leaving their houses. The plan in place was world domination. Divide and conquer at its best. Kill a few world leaders, blame a world power, start a war—and so far it was full steam ahead.
Behind me, President Wilson was going over last minute details with the same group of men from our meeting five minutes before. She broke away and gestured for me to follow.
What the hell had I gotten myself into? The president approached the podium and stared out into the sea of people and cameras. I stood beside her, along with the other men, in a show of force.
“Good afternoon. Over the last two days the world has suffered two horrific losses. The countries of Japan and Iran lost great leaders, and the families of those men lost a loved one. The victims, however, number in the millions, because the world lost two great men. Thousands of lives were forever changed by the cowardly act of a few individuals. These acts of terror were intended to frighten the remaining world leaders and create worldwide chaos. They were designed to fool the world into thinking that America was somehow behind these acts of terror. But I personally want to let you know, whoever you are, that wherever you hide we will find you.
“Know this: America’s light still shines bright. We will not run or hide. We will not cave in to terror and fear. We will do what America has always done—we will stand and fight. We will stand back-to-back with our allies in the trenches, wherever the battle takes us. Our emergency teams have all been launched, as well as our Homeland Security personnel. We are ready. We are prepared. And we will be vigilant in this fight. Those responsible for these heinous murders will be captured or killed. They will face a trial, their fate will be decided, and they will be punished.
“The full resources of the American military are mobilizing under my direction and are one hundred percent confident that we will find you, and we will destroy you. America’s resolve is strong and unfaltering. America has condemned these attacks and in no way, shape, or form is involved with them.
“Standing to my right is Houston’s Detective David Porter, who I met with earlier today along with my staff. During this manhunt, Detective Porter will report directly to me and will be paramount in helping with the apprehension of these monsters. I have full confidence in Mr. Porter and in the intelligence community of the United States.
“To the cowards behind these horrendous acts of violence—we are coming for you. America will not be shaken. I pray that the grieving families can find solace. To the countries whose leaders remain here in America—we are taking every precaution and putting every security measure in place to protect your leaders. There are those who fear that military power will be imposed on their country. This could not be further from the truth. The behavior of these criminals is deplorable, and it will not go unpunished.
“I will not be taking any questions tonight. Thank you, and God bless America and the world.”
Five Secret Service agents surrounded the president and tried to knife her out of the room. Reporters mobbed the podium, each trying to catch a glimpse. The men pushed through, and I followed closely.
The president was shoveled into a conference room, and I was pushed in behind her.
“Have a seat, Mr. Porter,” she said. Someone closed the door behind me.
“I didn’t realize you had more questions for me,” I said.
There was a full, bright moon out tonight. She was staring at it from the window.
She spoke to me without turning around. “You a dreamer, Mr. Porter?”
“Excuse me? I’m not certain I follow.”
“A dreamer. You know, someone who aims for the stars. Someone who doesn’t know what it means to fail. Someone who, despite what everyone else says can’t be done, plods ahead anyway. Are you one of those guys?”
I didn’t respond.
“Well, Mr. Porter? I mean, if you have to think about it . . .”
“I guess you could say I am that guy.”
“You don’t sound too certain.”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m certain. I’ve always aimed above the clouds. I played sports that way. I was that way in the military, and my law enforcement career has been no different.”
Our eyes met. “Good. Really good. In order to catch these guys, you’ll need to aim even higher than that.”
“I’m up for it.”
As I got up and headed for the door, she chimed in again.
“Don’t let me down, Porter.”
“I won’t. I don’t know how.”
“Before you leave . . . I don’t think I’d been told about your military experience. What branch did you serve in?”
“Army. Rangers, of course,” I said with a smile.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less. God speed, Mr. Porter.”
I stepped back into the hallway, and, not five seconds later, we were on the move again. It kind of reminded me of my military days. These guys moved fast everywhere they went. A team of servicemen escorted me from the building, and we headed toward the airport.
There was a slight chance that Rael was lying to me about what he’d hidden, but I would know soon enough. I played his words over and over in my mind. Normally I would write a tip like this down, but I didn’t want to risk dropping my notebook and it landing in someone else’s hands.
Ceiling tile, above the third stall in the restroom closest to terminal five. Simple enough.
The car came to a halt, and my door unlocked.
“Will there be anything else, Detective Porter?” one of the agents asked me.
“No, I don’t believe so. Thanks for the lift.”
I hurried into the terminal. I spotted a terminal layout on the wall in front of me. I followed it with my fingers.
When I got to the terminal, I didn’t see a restroom and I was quickly running out of time. I’d already heard the first call for my flight back to Houston, and I really didn’t want to miss another flight.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” I said, sticking my head in one of the terminal stores.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m kinda in a hurry. Can you point me to the nearest restroom?”
She did so, and I took off at an easy jog. Now I hoped I could get access to the ceiling panel once I found the restroom.
I reached my destination and hurried in. To my amazement, stall three was vacant. A middle-aged man was using a urinal, which faced away from the stalls.
I scurried into the stall and locked the door behind me. As quietly as I could, I stepped up on the toilet seat and carefully popped off the ceiling tile. I leaned the tile toward me, and Rael’s phone slid into my hand.