“I can check. I just don’t see how it’s relevant to what’s happening now.”
“It may not be. But operations of this size don’t get planned overnight. If Teague and the Secretary are connected, it might give us some feel for how far back this whole thing goes.”
Honi’s phone rang. “Badger.” She listened. “Thank you, sir.” She disconnected. “The NRO has identified a large tent in an industrial complex southwest of Fort Worth that wasn’t there yesterday. Here are the GPS coordinates.”
“Thank you,” Stafford said. He grabbed the radio mic and gave the location to the closest search team.
Jake could see the sweat forming on Stafford’s forehead and the increased breathing rate as he watched the seconds on the clock sweep by. Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds later the radio crackled to life.
“UH-60 Black Hawk located. Area secured.”
“Any sign of the device?”
“No sir, no device present. Weapons tech checking for signature now, sir.”
“Come on,” Stafford said quietly. “What are the odds?”
“Confirmation, sir. The device was on board. Small amount of residual radiation. Expanding search area now, sir.”
“So what now?” Honi asked. “How many trucks left Fort Worth in the last six hours?”
“Can’t be more than a thousand, or two,” Stafford said. “Dallas/Fort Worth is a major trucking hub.”
“No,” Jake said. “That’s exactly what Teague wants us to think. He wanted us to believe the bomb was in a truck headed northwest out of the bunker area. He flew the bomb out to the east instead. Now he lands the Black Hawk in an industrial area. No way for a plane to take off. Got to be a truck this time, right?”
“Yeah,” Stafford replied.
Honi smiled. “I get it. Time is critical, so is distance.”
“Exactly. Teague would fly the bomb out. It takes less time and he covers more distance. Small airport, close to the industrial complex, no night crew. What fits that profile?”
Honi typed on the keyboard. “This one,” she said as the sheet slid out of the printer. She handed it to him.
Jake grabbed his phone and called Briggs. “New priority. I want everyone located and interviewed who has a plane or any kind of a connection to this airport.” He gave his boss the details. Jake knew the drill. In a matter of minutes, twenty FBI teams would swarm the small airport, identify everyone associated with the location, prioritize the people, and fan out from there. He had done it so many times himself, he could feel it happening.
“I checked for any connection between Teague and Cooper,” Stafford said. “There’s no direct connection.”
“Then Cooper’s exposing his part in the conspiracy wasn’t because of friendship. He was ordered to do it.”
Jake’s phone chirped. “Hunter.”
He listened and hung up.
“What?” Honi asked.
“Nothing at any of the airports. It had to leave by truck.”
“So where does that leave us?” Honi asked.
“Tell everybody in the Dallas/Fort Worth area to continue the search,” Stafford said. “But I think the bomb is gone, along with Teague and Secretary Cooper.”
CHAPTER 11
Peter Steinmetz hugged his wife, Ileana. “You’ll be safe in the family shelter in Chicago. Our foundation jet will fly you back there.”
“But will you be safe?” she asked.
“Perfectly. I’ll be in the deep underground shelter at work.”
“The children?”
“I’ve arranged everything. They’ll both be safe. They know exactly what to do and when.”
“What about after?”
“I think it’s best if you stay in Chicago. I’ll be there, along with Robert and Gwen before the final event, so don’t worry.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m going to be needed at work for long hours after the demonstration, so I’m not going to be home much, anyway. Stay with the family and I’ll be there in seventeen days.”
Meanwhile, in Basement level 6, area 4 of the NSA building Jake and Honi looked at the large screen showing the phone plot for the new project.
“How far back?” Honi asked.
“Just over six months,” Brett said. “Eighty-seven million phone connections and counting.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “I assume this program will continue to run and collect phone connections in the background while we sort the data.”
“Of course.”
“So let’s see who is the most active. Limit the display to connections that repeat six times or more.”
Brett typed on the keyboard. “Whoa, we’re just under twelve thousand connections.”
“Six times a week,” Honi said. “The people who control this thing are probably talking more often than that.”
“Of course they are,” Jake said as he moved closer to the large screen. “Something’s wrong. You said purple connections were for academic institutions?”
“Military to academic, yes,” Brett replied.
“Can you go back to the whole plot?”
Brett clicked away on the keyboard.
“Do you have a color for academic to corporate connections, specifically academic institutions that also are doing work with the military?”
“No. What color would you like?”
“Something related to purple.”
“How about lavender?”
“Sure, but make it for only military/academic/corporate connections.”
Brett typed away. “Kind of a DARPA thing?”
“Yes. Let’s see if there are any Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency type of connections in this phone plot.”
“Done. DARPA type connections are now lavender.”
“Now limit to six or more connections again.” Jake stepped closer to the screen. “They’re almost gone, too. Go back and show us two connections or more.”
“Two or more connections over a week.”
“I expected the majority of those connections to get dropped,” Jake said.
“What are you seeing?” Honi asked.
“We started this phone plot based on criminal activity. Money laundering, gun running, terrorists and drug cartels. I can understand some military connection to gun running, but why are we getting persistent military/academic/corporate connections? This doesn’t make any sense.”
Honi walked away for a moment and returned with Tracy. “We need to correlate the money flow with the phone connection plot.”
“Yes, we do. That’s where we started. With phone calls and money transfers.”
“Okay, guys,” Brett said. “This is going to take some time for me to write the code to combine everything.” He checked his watch. “It’s dinner time. Why don’t you two go and get something to eat from the cafeteria, while Tracy and I put these two databases together.”
Jake and Honi chose their food and selected a table near the wall. Jake pulled his phone and called Stafford.
“I’m not buying the whole truck thing with Teague. He would move the bomb by airplane. Check with the different Area Control Centers. See if something unusual or out of the ordinary happened.”
He took a sip of coffee. “Yeah. Get back to us. Thanks.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“Teague put the bomb on a truck, right?”
“Right.”
“But a truck is too slow. Army generals like Teague know time is an important commodity — you waste it at your own peril. Somewhere, the bomb went back on an airplane. We just need to figure out where it went from there.”
“Where do you think that will be?”
“I don’t know. I just keep feeling like something huge is standing right in front of us and we can’t see it,” Jake said.