Brian’s muscles tightened, and his eyes grew keen. “Did the police come to check your property last night?”
“Oh no, the alarm isn’t attached to a service anymore. I ran up too high a bill with the police department.” She looked at the keypad on her wall. “And I’m not going to turn it on again. It wakes the boys up, and then they’re in a terrible mood the next day.”
“Wait. Hold up. Go back a step. Why are the police charging you?”
“When you have a false alarm, they come and check it for free. The second time, if nothing’s wrong they charge you fifty dollars. The third time it’s one-hundred dollars and so on. I was out of town this past January, and by the time I got home, I owed the police three-thousand-six-hundred and fifty dollars. Every night at 11:10 on the dot someone or something rattled my office door.”
“Something?” Brian’s brow furrowed. “It stopped?” He moved toward the back of the house. “Which door was it?”
“That door there.” Sophia stood to follow him, but remembered what she was wearing and kept her distance. “I let my alarm service go. I sometimes engage the system just to alert myself if someone is to try to get in. Maybe scare them away.”
He moved into the room and leaned his back against the wall. “Why did you have it on last night?”
“I got spooked. It felt like someone was out there watching my house, so I turned the alarm on in the hopes it would make me feel less vulnerable. I paid the price.” She moved toward the stairs. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s about time I got some clothes on.”
The quick shower did its job; she was human again. Sophia walked down the stairs just as Brian shut her front door. The look of sheer bewilderment he wore as he turned to face her was priceless. Sophia found herself grinning at him “Who was that?” she asked.
“Marla?” Brian scrubbed a hand over his closely cropped brown hair. “Does she own clothes besides the flesh-colored bikini?”
“Yeah, she usually only wears that one to garden at eight in the morning, and around five in the afternoon. In between, she’s usually dressed for the gym.”
“So, she’s in the garden as people leave for work and come home.”
“Yup, leaning over, fanny in the air, weeding her little heart out.”
“That’s insane.”
“I’d have to agree with you on that one.” Sophia made her way down the rest of the stairs. “She must have caught sight of you coming and going and wanted to check you out for herself. She wouldn’t have kept the bikini on for my sake. She collects male admirers as a hobby. What did she say she wanted?”
“She said she came over for a little sugar. I told her you were out.”
“That’s how she phrased it? ‘I came over for a little sugar’?” Sophia raised her hand. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Instead, tell me what’s on your agenda. Why did you need to come by this morning?”
“Since the AAPC computer systems are here, and they contain sensitive information, I need to go over your house from a security point of view. Your alarm system story has me concerned. While you were getting ready, I checked out your Florida room. There’s a stack of outdoor automatic lighting fixtures in there. I’d like to get those put in place.” He turned his tablet to show a gallery of pictures—one from each side of her house, with sketches of light placement and trajectories. “You have enough to cover your property three-sixty, and a couple extra that I could put in the trees nearest to your house.”
“Because people are climbing my trees?”
“Someone small could get near enough to your windows to see in. I’m not suggesting that’s ever happened. I was just trying to find a way to incorporate all the lights you bought.”
Sophia reached for the tablet and looked things over, like she knew what this all meant. She smiled and handed it back. “Thanks. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea and get to work, do you need anything?” The phone on her desk rang, and Sophia felt the blood drain from her face. Her breath caught. Brian’s gaze was hard on hers. By the fourth ring, she had the receiver in her hand. There were five staccato beeps then a dial tone. She picked up her keys and said, “Would you excuse me?” She didn’t even look Brian’s way as she jogged up the stairs to her bedroom.
9
Brian
Wednesday a.m.
Brian clanked the barbell back into place and sat up to take a swig from his jug of water. Titus moved his way and thumped him on the back. “I got hung up yesterday, so I missed you,” he said, sitting on the bench across from Brian. “We were working on locating Honey.”
“Any news?” Brian mopped the sweat from his forehead and leaned in, so they could keep their conversation private. Rooster Honig, whose call sign was “Honey” was in Iraq working solo, which was normally against Iniquus policy. He’d been on loan to Strike Force operatives when a distress call had come in. One of their clients had an energy executive kidnapped while on a business trip. Honey was one of Iniquus’s best negotiators and spoke fluent Arabic. He took off with a friendly, heading from Jalalabad to Kirkuk. Dagger was supposed to hook up with him. A two-man team, low and lean. But Dagger never made contact. The Panther Force operatives all had their go bags sitting by their front doors, ready to jump into action if the situation didn’t clear up.
“All personnel accounted for. The kidnapping victim is still in the wind, but Honey’s opened up a line of communication.”
Brian nodded. Their work was full of twists and turns. Danger. Violence. Adrenaline. It was where he belonged. His mind and body were built for this job. He felt lucky that as he transitioned from FAST—the Marine Fleet Anti-terrorism Security Team—to a civilian job stateside, he could continue to serve America and put his specialized training to use. Having been deployed to that region, Brian knew just how bad things could get if Honey went incommunicado.
Titus glanced around the room before he said, “I noticed during Monday’s meeting that you and Dr. Abadi know each other. You didn’t bring that to my attention when I made the assignments.”
“I wasn’t aware at that time that she and I were acquainted. I never knew her last name. She introduced herself to me as Sophie.”
“When was this?”
“Her birthday, November of last year. We met at the bar in the hotel where I was staying during the New York mission. We talked into the wee hours of the morning. That’s the end of it.”
“Did that talk include having sex?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She was distressed when she saw you.”
“She was embarrassed. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone without a goodbye. Like I said, I didn’t know her last name. Had no clue she was an archaeologist. I haven’t seen or spoken with her since.”
Titus gave him a hard stare. “Is it in the best interests of the case that I reassign that duty?”
Brian kept his posture neutral, his expression indifferent. “If that would make you more comfortable. I don’t have a problem with it one way or another.” But he did. The idea of someone else being in Sophia’s home, in her life, protecting her when it should be him, didn’t sit well.
Titus stood. “Let’s leave things as is for now. Let me know if any concerns come up.”
Brian moved toward the locker room to shower before his powwow in the war room. Protecting Sophia was only part of his job. Figuring out if she was a terrorist was the other. It was going to be one hell of a challenge. How could he both protect and try to expose Sophia at the same time? If the situation called for it, could he take her down? A picture of her lying on his bed, her long, black hair draped over the side as they laughed together the night of her birthday had him closing his eyes. It was the most amazing thing he’d ever experienced. If pressed to describe the sensation, he’d call it a religious awakening. It was a revelation that he could feel that perfectly connected to a person—a stranger, no less. In his mind, he’d thought it was the first night of a life of nights together. He couldn’t imagine ever being without her
. Then he woke up and reached out for her, only to discover she was gone.
Even with all of Iniquus’s resources at his fingertips, he’d never been able to find her. When he saw her walk into that morning meeting, all those feelings rushed back to the surface. He had to come to grips with the idea that he’d fallen hard for someone who could very well be a terrorist sympathizer. Could he take her down? At his core, there was no question. To save his brothers and sisters in arms, to protect America, damned straight he could. He slammed his locker shut and headed to the Panther Force war room.
“I’ve been compiling information for you.” Nutsbe popped open his laptop and set it in front of Brian and Thorn. “The good news is that everyone’s surveillance is functioning. Brian, we may need to move to night vision on your outdoor cameras if things keep up the way they did last night.”
“She had visitors?” Thorn asked.
“I think she had a poltergeist,” Nutsbe said. “I’m going to fast-forward this section of tape. This happened over a three-hour span of time, but I’ve compressed it into two minutes.”
The light from the right-hand side of the house blinked on. The vantage point was from the eaves, where Brian had placed the light the day before. They had a momentary view of Sophia’s minivan and her mailbox. As soon as the light went off it lit up again. It turned off and the next view was of the sidewalk and front stairs. That light flashed on, then off, then on again.
“What’s the timer on these lights?” Thorn leaned over to ask.
“Fifteen minutes,” Brian replied as that light went off and the next one in line blinked on. “Nutsbe, does each light flash twice?”
Brian knew that he’d put six lights in place, lighting up each section twice would take an hour and a half.
“Twice on the first round, twice on the second round. It looks like a dog running up to an invisible fence, testing the boundaries before he’d get zapped.”
“That’s exactly what it looks like. Calculated.” Brian’s stomach muscles tightened. “I’ll get Titus to sign off on a camera upgrade. She has an alarm system in place, but she isn’t using it.” Brian explained to his team about the daily door rattles and the police bill.
“That’s damned odd,” Nutsbe said.
“Ya think?”
“Was Nadia okay last night? Any unwanted visitors?” Thorn asked.
“Nadia went to Lana’s house for dinner. Then she went home and read until ten when she went to sleep. Nadia likes to walk around her house in a slinky little teddy.” Nutsbe touched his cursor to pull up the image. “There’s my bonus for all the hours I had to sit and watch lights flashing on and off at Sophia’s place.”
“Shut that off, Nutsbe,” Brian growled.
Nutsbe sighed and flipped to an audio file. “Fine. Moving on then.”
The first thing they heard was a nine-digit alphanumeric code, in English this time. Brian leaned over and tapped the key to pause the recording. “First mystery solved. You’ll notice that code was different than the first time she got a call. On Monday, I found a PIN generating device on her desk.”
“On her desk where anyone could get to it? How is that secure?” Nutsbe asked.
“Exactly,” Brian said. “She seemed genuinely surprised to find it in my hand. She said there was a place that she and Nadia hid it and guessed that one of them, in getting ready to do their public speaking gig in front of Panther Force, must have forgotten to return it to its usual spot.”
“Was it out yesterday when you were there checking on security details?” Thorn asked.
“No, and I was looking for it. But returning to the phone call, it’s odd to me that both times she took one of those calls, she picked up her keys and left the room. At first, I thought maybe there was something on the keychain she didn’t want me to see. I had her keys Monday when the mechanics were fixing her car. We made duplicates of all of them. House key, car key, four storage keys. Her keychain is a flashlight.”
“Storage keys?”
“They belong to PODS that line the back of the property. I opened them and am guessing it’s her in-laws’ personal effects, furniture, clothes, photo albums, kitchenware. Someone could start a whole new life with the stuff packed up out back.”
“Why is she keeping it, do you think?” Nutsbe asked.
“Don’t know.” Brian shrugged. “It’s costing her money. I was hoping you could do some digging, Nutsbe. I’m kind of stuck on the dad and son dying in the same hospital, minutes apart. And then the mother, what—a year plus later? As for the PODS, maybe there’s other family involved. Maybe she needs to hang on to that stuff for some reason. I think the more we know about the stressors in Sophia’s and Nadia’s lives, the better we can find their pressure points. We know they both have the means and opportunity; the missing piece is the motivation.”
“So how do her keys tie into the phone calls?”
“Her flashlight runs on a button battery. The battery tube holds a randomized digital PIN creator, a tiny version of the one that Nadia and Sophia use for their AACP computer.”
Thorn twitched his lips to the side, staring past Brian, thinking. “That doesn’t have to be nefarious. She could be clarifying her identity to the people who are functioning in ISIS held areas, if they need assurance that they’re talking to the right person. We do the same with our fake pre-school website with the animal and color of the day.”
“See what you think after you hear the conversation.” Nutsbe reached out start the audio file again.
“We need those contacts we talked about.” It was the same female voice from the first call.
“I’m working on it,” Sophia whispered. “Things are delicate right now. I have to be extra careful about who I reach out to and how. I’ll figure it out. I need a little more time.” There was a warble in Sophia’s voice that made Brian think that the person Sophia was speaking to scared her—made her feel threatened somehow.
“The information you sent us was helpful. We took a major piece off the board.”
The unsub’s information was met with silence. The mystery voice continued, “Have you heard news out of Palmyra?”
A long pause, then Sophia whispered, “No.”
“You’ll want to watch Al Jazeera.”
The line went dead.
“Do you know what the caller was referring to?”
“Possibly. Andersson sent me a file last night with an email that said concerning news out of Palmyra,” Nutsbe read. “Our partners at Interpol sent us word that Sadiq Bikar was killed in Palmyra yesterday.”
Thorn tossed his pen in the air and watched it rotate twice before it landed neatly back in his hand. “Why is this Bikar guy interesting to us?”
“Here are the FBI bullet points—Bikar, aged eighty-two, was a world leader in the preservation of relics, architecture, and antiquities in Palmyra. He taught ancient studies at Stanford University. After retirement, Bikar became the Head of Palmyra Antiquities and Preservation for the UNESCO World Heritage Center.” Nutsbe moved the cursor down the page, his eyes shifting rapidly left and right. “Okay—here’s the gist. The city of Palmyra dates to two-thousand years BC, when it acted as a waypoint for caravans crossing the desert. Before ISIS took over the area, Palmyra was filled with ancient pieces that quickly disappeared from their museums. Some are assumed to be hidden by concerned citizens, but most are assumed to be in the hands of those running the black markets. Four pieces found in the Gilchrest collection were flagged by the FBI as having a high probability of being stolen from the museum collection. That’s why they sent this to our attention.”
Brian’s phone buzzed, and he looked down at the read out. “Sophia’s on the move again. At zero-eight-hundred she took the boys to daycare.” He swiped the screen. “Yeah, she’s leaving Willow Tree. She said she and Nadia are working in her home office today.”
Thorn’s phone vibrated. He pulled up the same app to track his target. “Nadia’s heading toward Sophia’s house,” Thorn said
and slipped his phone back in the thigh pocket on his BDUs.
“Continuing on,” Nutsbe said. “Finley got word from the Syrian Human Rights Observation Alliance that Bikar was beheaded in the public square. His body was tied to a post. His head was placed between his feet. Their informant said that ISIS interrogated Bikar, trying to find the location of hidden museum artifacts and two chests of gold that are rumored to be buried in the city. They also wanted the names and locations of all the academics throughout the world who were helping to protect Syrian treasures and causing hiccups in their trade routes. The human rights asset didn’t know if any of that information was revealed or not. He’s worried that those directly involved with stopping the black market have been compromised, specifically those working with AACP.”
“Why does the asset think Bikar talked?”
“Bikar’s three sons disappeared around the same time that Bikar was taken hostage. His wife was killed in their home. It could be that ISIS was torturing the sons to drag information from the father.”
Brian turned to Thorn. “Nadia and Sophia may have been compromised. This puts them in even greater danger.”
“Finley agrees,” Nutsbe said. “We need to up our efforts making sure the women are protected while we’re looking for any way they might have been connected to the event. Sadiq Bikar was supposedly in hiding with Interpol protection. Reading between the lines, they lost operatives in this event.”
Brian tapped his middle finger on the desk while he processed that information. “Until we have a better handle on things, I think it’s a good idea to move the women to status orange. That way we can be more aggressive in the actions we take. I’d rather be proactive here.”
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