Maitland was about to slam the car door shut when he heard his sister-in-law call out. Thinking better of it, he gently closed the door instead.
“Hiya, Ben.”
“Hi, Marcie honey. How’s your day been?”
“Just fine. Come on in, Gary’s been waiting all day to see his Uncle Ben. He wants to show you his new stamps.”
“Stamps today, girls tomorrow.”
“I know, I know, I’m worried already!”
Maitland followed his sister-in-law into the house. He and his brother Joe, two years older, had always gotten on well and when Joe married the petite blonde cheerleader from Jersey City, it was Joe who insisted he be best man.
Marcie called out to her son as she entered the front door, “Gary, Uncle Ben’s here.”
A skinny boy shot out of his bedroom and ran towards them down the hallway, yelling out “Hi, Uncle Ben” as he continued on without stopping into the front room. He jumped onto the three-seater couch seat cushions, using them as a springboard to disappear over the back. Almost instantly his head popped up, his face round and speckled with a huge grin. “Uncle Ben, Uncle Ben, come and see my new stamps!”
“Uncle Ben’ll play with you later, honey. Let me make him a coffee first, he’s just finished a hard day catching bad guys. Why don’t you watch ‘The Texas Ranger’ and I’ll fetch you some milk and cookies.”
“Aww, Mom. How about some Coke?”
“If you promise not to move from the TV until the cartoon is finished.”
“I promise, cross my heart.”
In the kitchen the two adults whittled away an hour with small talk. Maitland had long finished his third coffee and his sister-in-law was busy preparing the evening meal.
As Marcie finished peeling the potatoes Joe walked in the door. He gave a quick “Hello, son” to Gary, still watching the DVD, winked at Ben and snuck up behind Marcie at the kitchen sink. “I’m home, babe, as horny as a three-balled tomcat and thirsty as hell.”
“Joe! Did you forget? Ben’s here for dinner.”
Joe laughed, burying his nose in her hair. “I plumb forgot. Hey, little brother — how’s it hangin’?
“Same as always, last time I looked.” Maitland grinned back.
Joe looked like his brother, same height, same short dark hair and bushy eyebrows. His life was less physical — a career in retail sales had added a few inches to his waist. That, and Marcie’s cooking.
“I can give you a Bud, Joe, but that’s all,” said his wife, with a coy smile.
“Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”
The two men acknowledged each other with a high five.
“Jesus, Ben!” Joe smiled as he wiped his hand on the back of his trousers. “Hope that’s from you washing it!”
“I only had a pee, I don’t wash my hands for that.”
Marcie turned to face them. “Eee-ugh… men! You two are as bad as Gary.”
After the evening meal the family sat down in front of the television, young Gary flipping the pages of his stamp album.
“Uncle Ben, you want to see my stamps? I got some real nice ones.”
“Sure, let’s see what you got.”
Gary sat down beside Maitland on the couch and opened up the album. “Dad brought me some from work. Look at this one, it’s a cow, just like the ones on ‘The Texas Rangers’.”
“Looks a mighty fine stamp, but I thinks it’s a bull, a Texas Longhorn. So what else is new… now that’s real colorful… looks like something I saw recently, on the job.”
Gary looked up, eager to hear what his uncle had to say.
Something had triggered a memory in Maitland as he saw the bright, colorful stamp. Then it came to him. “You know what, Gary, I saw a stamp just like that only yesterday. Yeah, it was just like that… so where does it come from?”
Gary tried his best to pronounce the name on the stamp.
“Here, let me.” Maitland took a closer look. “Syria… it’s from Syria.”
The boy wrinkled his nose. “Where’s that?”
Maitland looked towards his brother and sister-in-law. All shrugged their shoulders. “Damned if I know. Tell you what, why don’t you Google it?”
Chapter Seven
Matt Lilburn had relayed Evangeline’s concerns.
“It’s logical, I’ll give you that. And too damn easy.” Hall stood looking at the large map on the wall. “So where on earth do we start? America — nearly three point eight million square miles. If the virus is already in the country it could be anywhere.”
A staffer interrupted him. “Sir, the list of suspected Islamic terrorist organization sympathizers.”
Hall placed his glasses on and read the list. “Great, thousands, spread over how many states?” His response was sarcastic. “Too many suspects, too many locations — I need specifics and fast. Any of these relate to Takfir wal-Hijra?”
“Sir, our system came up with two possibilities. Our Keyword Detection Software has only picked up references to Takfir wal-Hijra four times in the last twelve months. Two in California and two in New York, with phone conversations from the suspects named. The California dialogues are the oldest and one of the New York ones was made just three months ago.”
“That’s a step in the right direction. What have you got on that one?”
“I can have a full transcript in fifteen minutes, sir.”
“Make it five,” Hall snapped. The staffer hurried off. Hall turned back to the wall map and studied it as would a general preparing to wage battle. “Lilburn, go get the doc. It’s a lead, a fucking small one, but it’s better than nothing.” Picking up a marker pen, the director drew a ring around the state of New York. “Just over fifty-five thousand square miles. The odds might have just gotten a bit better.”
Director Hall was still staring intently at the map as Evangeline approached. He didn’t shift his gaze as she joined him. “So you reckon the virus could come in the post?”
“That would be my opinion, a logical choice given what we know already.”
“There’s a lot to be said for opinion, especially when we’re short of facts.” Hall’s face gave nothing away. “Especially a woman’s intuition. You a married man, Lilburn?”
“No, sir.” Matt thought he caught a glimmer in Evangeline eye.
“Well, son, if you were you might well have learnt that a woman’s intuitive sense is usually right… trust me, I’m married to one. And she’s usually right on the money, dammit. You ever tell her that Lilburn and your next posting will be somewhere cold enough to freeze your balls off. Holbrook Jackson, an Englishman if I recall correctly, once said intuition is reason in a hurry. And by God, we’re in a hurry.”
The same staffer caught Hall’s eye again.
“What have you got?”
“The phone transcript, sir.”
“Talk to me.”
“Yes, sir. Our target, a Muslim cleric in his mosque, was in conversation with another person, identity unknown. There on page two is the name of the extremist organization. From the first instance we were alerted to him, as per standard procedure, we monitored all his incoming and outgoing calls.”
“And?”
“The bottom of page two, sir, I’ve highlighted a name.”
Hall let his eyes scroll down the page. Karam Azrak.
“Holy hell, we’ve got the son of a bitch!” Hall looked up and scanned the operations room soon finding the stern features of Director Lopez, who was gathering data from one of her team members at the other side of the room. “Suzanna, over here!” Hall’s loud voice traveled the large conversation-filled room with ease; others looked up from their stations, desks and wall charts.