It was late afternoon by the time the team arrived at the county sheriff’s office. The complex was a one story block building with a gravel parking lot and a flagpole jutting out from a circle of red bricks. You had to pass Old Glory on the way into the building which made Matt smile, reminding him of the entrance to the Baltimore field office. Except this was no FBI building. This was merely a small satellite office to the main sheriff’s office in Globe. Twelve hundred square feet of block walls and linoleum flooring. They didn’t even have a receptionist to answer phones.
Steele, Tommy and Luke entered first while Matt kept a grip on Semir’s arm. Luke opened the single jail cell and Matt shoved Semir into the empty space before turning to see Julie Bracco by herself, cleaning sandwich crumbs from the vacant receptionist’s desk.
“What are you doing here?” Matt asked.
Julie rolled her eyes and gestured toward the closed door to the inner office. “Guess who’s back playing sheriff?”
“Are you kidding me?” Matt said. He noticed the frustration in Julie’s eyes and wanted to retract his comment the second it left his mouth.
“Listen,” Julie crumbled up the sandwich wrapper with more muscle than necessary, “do you really think he’s going to sit at home nursing a wounded shoulder while a terrorist is out there trying to kill him?”
She turned to throw the wrapper in the garbage and Matt followed. He wedged himself in front of her and held her arms to face him. She was a rock. Her body trembled in his grasp, but she kept her composure. Matt crouched down to be at eye level. “Jule,” he said with his most professional face, “we’ll get this done just like we always do. Understand?”
Julie’s face tightened. It seemed to be the same fight she’d always contended with as an FBI agent’s wife-be brave, but not naive.
“I understand,” she said, stepping out of his grasp. Then she tried to act busy cleaning the remaining lunch items on the desk.
Matt let her go. He made eye contact with Steele and saw compassion on her face. As if thanking him for trying to settle Julie’s nerves. He smiled back at her.
Nick had two large computer monitors side by side squeezing out the small globe and adjacent Arizona and American flags to the brink of his desk. Two tall filing cabinets sat against one wall while a scattering of folding chairs took up the rest of the space in the office.
With his sling hugging his left arm to his chest, the fingers on his right hand plucked the keys of his computer keyboard. He had Google Earth humming on the left screen, scanning for something out of place in the Payson area. Barzani was close by and somehow Nick needed to find him first, before he became another statistical accomplishment of Barzani’s revenge crusade. His mind felt slowed by the lingering effects of the anesthesia, but he kept grinding out ideas, piece by piece.
He heard the commotion in the outer office and figured the team had returned.
Tommy was the first to barge into the inner office like he was the governor. “Don’t you know when to lay low?” Tommy said, stopping in front of Nick’s desk and folding his arms.
“I guess not,” Nick said.
A massive black bear hung on the wall, stuffed and staring down at them with a mouthful of sharp teeth.
Tommy pointed at the animal. “That something you-”
“It was there before I got here,” Nick said, lifting his attention from the computer screens and watching Jennifer Steele, Luke and Matt come into his office.
“Well,” Matt said, “you can cross Semir off the list.”
“Tell me about it,” Nick said.
They did.
Jennifer Steele brought Nick up to speed with her and Luke’s liberation of Matt and Tommy from Buck Martin and his Iron Mountain team. Matt added the capture of Semir and explained the battering Buck gave the kid.
“He okay?” Nick asked.
“He’s fine,” Matt said. “Luke bandaged him up on the ride over here.”
Tommy dug a purple toothpick in his mouth. “So are you gonna tell me about this Barzani guy?”
“Well,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair, “he’s smart. He graduated from Georgetown with a Political Science degree. That’s where he met Kharrazi. When Kharrazi had his … uh, car accident,” Nick tried to keep the satisfaction from his face, “Barzani took over. The thing is, he’s not as brash as Kharrazi, but he’s more progressive. He’s very tech savvy. He’ll keep his hands clean and let some of his underlings do the dirty work.”
“So this Barzani guy sets up camp here just to kill you?” Tommy asked.
Of course it was the perfect question to ask and if an eavesdropper were to listen to Tommy’s inquisitiveness they might mistake it for dumb curiosity. But Nick knew nothing could be further from the truth. Tommy might have dropped out of high school, but he could read a situation better than any Harvard psychology professor. It was one of Tommy’s true gifts. He’d been underestimated his whole life and loved every minute of it.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Nick said. “Why did he send his nephew to take a shot at me? If he was serious, he would’ve sent a true sniper.”
“This guy a religious fanatic?”
“No, these guys aren’t jihadists. They’re on a mission. There are over twenty million Kurds living in Turkey, Iran and Iraq. They’re the largest ethnic group in the world without a country. They want to declare a portion of Kurdistan a sovereign nation for Kurds.”
“So, what’s wrong with that?” Tommy jabbed his toothpick in between two molars.
“What’s wrong is Turkey asked for the U.N. to send troops to help subdue the KSF from ravaging villages. The Kurds want the U.S. to withdraw its troops so they can take control.”
Tommy sucked on his toothpick seemed to take it all in.
Nick turned to Matt and sighed. “I spoke with Trish Tanner.”
Matt’s lip curled into a disgusted look of anger. Dave Tanner was one of their teammates and they’d spent years chasing terrorists together. “How is she?”
Nick shook his head. “Not good. She was upset and spitting some creative words my way.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Matt. “She begged me to kill Barzani. She said, do it for Dave.”
“Who’s Dave?” Tommy asked.
“Dave Tanner,” Nick said. “You knew him, he was part of our team back in Baltimore. He was murdered last night.”
“Damn,” Tommy said. “They’re turning the table on you guys, making you the targets this time.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. He looked around the room at the rest of his current team and assessed their chances of catching Barzani. He needed help, but he didn’t know from where.
Nick looked at Matt. “You still have the password to the counterterrorist team’s file?”
Matt shook his head. “Not since we came here.”
“Shit,” Nick grumbled.
“Call Walt,” Matt said. “He’ll give it to you.”
Nick considered the idea when a voice came from the doorway. “Someone looking for me?”
A large, dark-skinned man stood with his arm around Julie, who beamed her delight at his presence. Walt Jackson strode into the room like a giant leopard, moving his six-foot-five frame with the elegance of an Olympic athlete. Which he was before he became the Special Agent in Charge of the Baltimore field office. He held a brown brief bag under his arm.
Julie said, “I found this man roaming the parking lot,” then she disappeared and closed the office door.
Matt was the first to greet Walt, first shaking his hand, then being pulled into a bear hug.
“Good to see you, Walt,” Matt said.
“Yeah, well I couldn’t exactly stand still while a couple of my old agents became targets.”
Nick moved around the desk now and Walt was careful to keep his greeting to a two-handed handshake, dropping his bag on the desk.
“How are you?” Walt asked, sincere as always.
“I’m fine,” Nick said, glancing at his shoulder. “A flesh wound is all.”
Walt frowned. “Yeah, right.”
Nick made some introductions, then directed Walt to the only chair which might hold his large frame-the chair behind Nick’s desk.
Walt sat down with a grunt. He had bags under his eyes. “Been traveling all day,” he said, stretching out his legs.
Tommy must’ve sensed a law enforcement meeting coming on as he edged toward the door.
Before he took a second step, Walt said, “Sit down, Tommy. I could use some of your help here.”
Tommy’s chest pumped out at the comment. He grabbed a folding chair to sit on, then resumed his toothpick routine.
“I hope you didn’t come all the way here just for me?’ Nick asked.
The sun momentarily hid behind a cloud while Walt looked down at his shoes. “You know about Dave, right?”
Nick nodded.
Walt said, “I don’t like the timing.” He reached over and grabbed his bag. He came out with an eight-by-ten glossy of Dave’s body. He handed it to Matt and watched his ex-partner grit his teeth.
When Nick got the photo, he wanted to hand it to Steele before he even looked it over. Dave appeared to be in an alley lying face down looking away from the camera. His neck was twisted at an odd angle as if he’d fallen on a rock. Steele took the picture and spent more time than Nick did before handing it to Tommy.
“Professional,” Tommy said.
“That’s right,” Walt said. “Two bullets to the back of the head.”
“He owe anyone any money?” Tommy asked.
Walt raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, actually he did. He was down heavy to a bookie in D.C. It made us wonder if that direction was a possibility.”
“How much?” Tommy asked.
“Five grand.”
“Uh uh,” Tommy said. “Not enough to get slammed like this.”
“Tell me,” Walt said.
Tommy leaned over to put the photo on the desk, then said, “There’s a ten grand rule in D.C. Everyone abides by it. Someone runs their debt up to nine grand and they stop playing or leave town. No one’s dumb enough to go over the limit.”
“Maybe he was dealing with someone who didn’t know the rules?”
Tommy waved his toothpick at Walt. “Nah. The street wouldn’t allow it. Too many steps to booking inside the beltway. The SEC practically regulates the damn thing.”
Walt smiled. “Thanks, Tommy.” He turned to Nick and made it a point to look at his shoulder as he spoke. “So like I was saying, I don’t like the timing.”
Nick stared out the window and thought about Dave Tanner’s wife and kids. For a brief moment he remembered that he himself had a child on the way, but he quickly brushed away the thought like a housefly.
“Any idea who did it?” Nick asked.
Walt leaned his head back. “That bothers me. We’ve practically had that scene scrubbed with a microscope and came up with nothing. No prints which matched anyone in the computer, no witnesses. Nothing.”
“Barzani paid a professional, no doubt,” Nick said.
“He’s the ultimate delegator,” Matt chimed in. “What about the rest of the team?”
Walt cocked his head, “Those three? You see them hiding in a safe house while the rest of the office goes after Dave’s killer?”
Matt shook his head.
“Exactly,” Walt said. Then he squirmed a bit trying to get comfortable. “I need to tell you, there’s credible evidence the KSF is attempting to detonate a bomb at LAX.”
“How credible?” Nick asked.
Walt seemed to understand the question. He shrugged. “It’s not strong, but it’s LAX and we can’t afford to be wrong about it.”
“So there go our resources,” Matt said.
There was a twinkle in Walt’s eye as he watched his two star pupils putting the puzzle together.
“That’s right,” Walt said. “That’s where I’m headed right now. I won’t be able to offer you much support. They’re not threatening anything around here.”
“Except us,” Nick said.
“What about the Army, the National Guard, Hostage Rescue?” Steele asked.
Walt sighed and went for the obvious retort. “The military is a bulky sword,” he said. “What this requires is a scalpel. A small tactical team of professionals.”
Walt looked around the room, his eyes landing on Steele. “That’s where you come in. They’re going to need your help here.”
The room stayed silent while Nick considered the challenge of going after Barzani with the inhabitants of that small room.
Walt let out a big breath, like he was holding it in for just such an occasion. He edged forward on the chair and counted off on his fingers. “First of all you’ll have full access to our tech squad. You need a license plate run or a satellite image, you got it. Second, I’ve sent for a couple of agents to come up from Phoenix. They can set up a safe house for Julie until we can resolve this mess. Third, I’ll have a specialist sent up with those guys. Someone with gear to help track Barzani. And finally …” Walt looked at Nick and Matt. “Do what you two do best. Use your instincts.”
Nick and Matt nodded.
“So,” Walt said, repositioning his stiff legs. “What do we do?”
“Start with what we know,” Matt almost chanted. It was the same question Walt would ask during every briefing and induced the same response each time.
“And what do we know?” Walt asked.
“Barzani has been here for six months,” Steele said.
Walt smiled. “That’s right, Jennifer. What does that mean?”
“It means he’s had time to plan,” Steele answered.
“Good,” Walt said. “What else.” He was playing the mediator. Like a good football coach trying to press the right buttons to squeeze the most out of his players.
The room was quiet for a minute while Walt drummed his thick fingers on the desk.
Finally, Nick said, almost absently, “They’re using cash.”
This brought a great big grin to Walt’s weathered face. “Go on.”
Nick looked over at his deputy who was sitting in the back of the room, paying attention, but not seeming comfortable with a roomful of federal agents. “Luke, you’ve been here the longest. Go to all the local realtors. Find out who paid cash to rent a place up here five and six months ago. Only the ones who paid by cash. There won’t be many. It’s not like Barzani opened a checking account. After that, check the car lots. Find out about any big cash purchases within the same time frame.”
Luke left the office with a smile, seeming grateful to be part of the chase.
Nick thought about Luke’s skill with terrorists and gestured to Steele. “Jen, go with him. I don’t like him out there without someone with experience. He has a tendency to react too quickly.”
Steele nodded and left the room.
They sat silent for a moment. Walt pointed to Tommy. “You have any connections in Mexico?”
“Sure,” Tommy said. “What are you looking for?”
“We’ve discovered a large tunnel under the California border. It went directly into a dirty warehouse a couple of hundred yards into the country. It’s different than most tunnels we find, very sophisticated. Halogen lights, oxygen, the whole works. I need to know if there was any Kurdish involvement with this project or simply a high end drug tunnel.”
Tommy hopped to his feet, pulled out his cell phone and headed for the door. “I’ll make a call and find out,” Tommy said. Then he closed the door behind him.