“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.”