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Mano’s head sunk to his knees. “Yes,” he squeaked.

“Now, I have one more question,” Barzani said. “Are the explosives in place?”

Mano looked up with a sense of hope in his eyes. “Yes,” he said.

Barzani reached down and grabbed a handful of Mano’s hair and pulled him to his feet. “Congratulations,” Barzani said. “That is the first correct answer you’ve had today.”

Chapter 9

They huddled around Nick’s dual computer screens, Nick, Matt and Walt. Walt had logged into the FBI’s secure antiterrorist site. He was positioning the curser over an image of LAX airport, zooming in and out of parking lots and employee entrances with the skill of a computer programmer. Los Angeles was an hour earlier than Arizona so the setting sun was higher in the sky there.

“What kind of intel drew you to this threat?” Nick asked.

“Morris found a Kurdish snitch willing to receive leniency for information about the KSF.”

“Who?”

Walt hesitated, while he moved the images on the screen larger, then smaller. He moved the images so quickly he was giving Nick a headache.

“Walt?” Nick repeated.

Walt sighed. “Baldar Nemit.”

“Baldar turned?” Matt said, stunned. “Are you kidding me?”

The leader of the FBI’s antiterrorist department removed his hand from the mouse and sat back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest as he addressed his old teammates.

“You think this is a dictatorship?” Walt said bluntly. “You think I didn’t tell Ken the source was suspect?”

Matt said nothing. He and Nick both knew the politics that went into Walt’s job. Protect the big targets first, then worry about the small ones. They were minnows compared to LAX.

“There’s only one reason I’m sitting here right now,” Walt said, picking up steam as he went. “I went over Ken’s head and told Sam to get the President’s approval. How many lives you think I have left once I get back to the beltway? Huh?”

Matt looked down at his shoes.

Nick patted Walt on the arm. “We appreciate what you’ve done for us, Walt. Really we do.”

“I hope so boys, because I need you two around.” Walt’s face softened. He wagged his finger back and forth between Nick and Matt. “If I could just download all the information in your brains …” He leaned back and rested his head on the chair. “See, the new Bureau is all about data and profiling and things which can be manipulated. An informant could be nodding his head, ‘Yes,’ but if he says ‘No’ that’s what’ll show up in the damn file. You guys were there in the trenches. That’s why I say, use your instincts. It’s not the FBI’s way anymore, but that doesn’t mean you have to give it up.”

Walt swung his legs back under the desk and replaced his hand on the mouse. He zoomed in on an image of workers filling in the Mexican tunnel. “Our two best friends in the fight against terrorism have been the Atlantic and the Pacific. But if these tunnels are becoming this sophisticated, we may as well hand out speeding tickets down there.”

“What kind of tracings did you find?” Nick asked.

“Semtex,” Walt said, referring to the plastic explosive which was a favorite of the KSF.

“So let me get this straight,” Nick said. “Baldar, the strongest component of the KSF’s American occupation, squeals on his Kurdish brethren and gives up a tunnel laced with Semtex?”

Walt said nothing.

“Then,” Nick continued, “he tells us this tunnel was built to bring in explosives to detonate a bomb at LAX? Right?”

Walt kept his attention on the computer screen.

“You don’t buy it either, do you?” Nick said.

Walt moved his head side to side, ever so slightly.

Nick rubbed his only free hand through his hair. “An enormous diversion,” he said. He looked over at Walt and saw understanding in his eyes. Walt knew.

“So what do we do?” Matt asked.

“You mean what do you do?” Walt said, looking at his watch. “In another hour, I’m taking the entire Western region with me to L.A. You guys need to figure this out. The minute you have credible evidence there’s something else going on, call me. I can be here in ninety minutes.”

The door opened and Tommy rushed in trailed by a man with a deep tan and a black leather jacket. Tommy had a harsh expression as he came to the front of the desk.

“This here is Joe Tess. He’s a friend of ours.” Tommy said, while handing Nick an envelope. “He received this from a KSF member earlier tonight.”

Nick looked over at Joe and nodded. He understood the reference. If Tommy introduced someone as ‘a friend of his’ then it was someone outside of the Family. But a ‘friend of ours’ meant Joe was a Family member. Someone Tommy trusted.

“How did they contact you?” Nick asked Joe.

Joe had his hands in his pocket and shrugged. “They called my cell.”

“How did they get your number?”

“I asked,” Joe said. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Nick,” Tommy said. “Open the envelope.”

Nick unfolded the manila envelope and saw a stack of hundred dollar bills. He immediately understood what it meant. An amount that large could only mean one thing-a payoff for a murder. Then he saw the photograph under the stack. When he realized whose picture it was, his chest tightened into a knot.

He looked up at Joe. “When do they want you to do this?”

“By tomorrow.”

Nick examined the photograph. A surveillance shot. Taken from a distance to avoid detection. Julie was walking out of a local coffee shop by herself. He tried to determine when the shot was taken, but couldn’t.

“Joe’s a sharp cookie,” Tommy said. “He took the job even though he would never do such a thing.”

Nick handed the photo to Matt and saw Walt look over his shoulder. Nick felt a sense of gratitude emerge. His wife was a target of Temir Barzani. With a shaky arm he reached out and shook Joe’s hand. “Thanks.”

Joe smiled a lopsided smile. “Yeah, well, Tommy’s good people.” Then his face turned severe. “Besides, I’m an American. These punks need to learn a lesson.”

Nick turned and saw Matt watching them, waiting for his turn.

“Let’s give him a book to look at,” Matt said. “Maybe he can pick the guy out. My money is on Jirdeer.”

Joe was looking down at the photo of Dave Tanner’s body sitting on the desk. He seemed fascinated. He picked up the photo and examined it closely.

“You recognize him?” Walt asked.

Joe squinted. “No.”

Everyone waited as Joe moved the picture sideways, then at arm’s-length, then close-up again.

“Something you care to tell us?” Walt asked.

Joe dropped the photo onto the desk, then looked over at Tommy with a question on his face.

Tommy seemed to understand. He nodded to Walt. “Should Joe here offer you some information which might incriminate himself-”

“He has immunity,” Nick assured him. Then he turned to Joe. “This man was an FBI agent, a friend of ours. We need all the help we can get. Anything you say will never leave this room.”

Joe looked at Tommy and saw him nod.

“Well,” Joe said, suddenly seeming unsure of himself. “Have you done an autopsy on the body?”

Walt looked over at Nick, then Matt. All three of them confused by the question.

“I think we know the cause of death,” Walt said. “He was shot close range, two bullets to the back of the head.”

Joe nodded. “Yeah, but that’s not how he died.”

Nick picked up the photo and scrutinized Dave’s figure lying there. His body was face down with his head twisted away from the camera.

“I don’t understand,” Nick said. “What are we missing?”

Joe glanced at Tommy again.

“Go ahead, Tess,” Tommy said, firm. “He’s my cousin. We can trust him.”

Joe seemed to search for the proper words. “Well, I’m interested in these types of situations … I mean from a strictly curious perspective.”