The circle of life. Karma. Justice.
CHAPTER FOUR
Karen’s voice squawked through coms. “We’ve got a hit.”
Eric bolted upright. They had waited patiently for the search to run, and now the sun was almost down, casting a dull red glow in the moist fall haze. He turned to Nancy and Taylor, both of them suddenly alert. “Who is he?”
“Reza Nazer, a low-level Al-Qaeda operative. I pulled everything useful from the computer, but it’s a dead end. It’s just a rented desktop at the Internet cafe.”
Eric shook his head. Of course it couldn’t be that simple. “Why can’t the bad guys play dumb,” he asked. “Just once?”
“I’m sending his file,” Karen said. “Take a look. I’m not seeing anything.”
Eric paged through the document. Karen was right. There was nothing to indicate that Nazer was anything other than a low-level wannabe. “Have you started a backtrack?”
“On it, boss. It’s going to take a few days before I can track down his cell phone, computer, and other electronic toys.”
Nancy, who had been leaning over his shoulder reading through the file, spoke up. “How the hell could a loser like this have purchased a nuclear weapon?”
“He can’t possibly be in charge,” Eric said. “Deion, we’ve identified the man that Sadir spoke to. He doesn’t have the juice to organize this. You really think Sadir is giving the orders?”
“Sounded like it to me,” Deion said.
Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Now can we snag and bag him?”
Eric considered it. If Sadir was in charge, capturing and interrogating him could stop any plans for the nuke. But, if Sadir wasn’t in charge, they would tip their hand. It could drive the terrorist cell underground, and the OTM would lose their advantage.
Nancy watched him closely. She leaned in close so that only he could hear. “It’s hard when it’s all on you, but you have to call it.”
He smiled. “Let’s take him.”
John eased next to the door of Sadir’s apartment. The plan was simple. Valerie would knock on the door, and when Sadir opened, John would burst in. He eyed the door critically. It was cheap metal, painted with thick coats of white paint that caused the surface to ripple. The door frame was wood and painted a matching dirty white.
Valerie stood in front of the door and cast a quick glance his away. “Ready?” she whispered.
He nodded and his earpiece crackled. “Remember,” Eric said from the van down the street. “We need him alive.”
John grunted. He understood Eric had to make it look good, that Eric had to keep up the appearance of riding him, but surely Eric knew that he wouldn’t deliberately kill Sadir.
Surely he knows.
The tech inside his body gave him a tremendous advantage. Sometimes he found himself striking harder than he intended, moving faster than he intended, hurting people more than he intended. It wasn’t his fault. He was what the OTM made him.
“Do it,” Eric said.
Valerie rapped her knuckles lightly on the door. “Hello?” she said softly. “Is there anyone there? I just moved in and was wondering if someone could help me with some boxes?”
There was movement from within. Finally a man’s voice in lightly accented English said, “Go away.”
“Please?” Valerie pleaded, making sure to stand directly in front of the peephole. “I only need help with a few boxes.”
John pressed himself against the exterior wall of Sadir’s apartment. He felt the tension rise, his body’s natural adrenaline spiking enough to give him a rush. It wasn’t like the Implant, but he felt his heart thudding in his chest.
Valerie appeared to be a non-threatening woman in her forties. He just hoped that Sadir’s beliefs weren’t so strong that he would refuse to help a woman not of his family.
There was a rustling inside, the sound of the chain clanking against the metal door. “Fine,” Sadir said. “I will help you if you stop knocking on my door.”
John tensed. When Sadir opened the door, he struck the door with his shoulder like an offensive linebacker. He slammed forward and heard a woof as the door knocked Sadir back into the apartment.
And, like that, John was inside. He had time to register the sand-colored couch against the left wall, the loaded bookshelf against the right, and a counter that separated the front living area from the kitchen.
Sadir was struggling to sit up on the dirty brown carpet, but John kicked with the heel of his foot, a firm blow that struck Sadir in the chest, slamming him back against the floor. As Sadir tried again to stand up, John dropped to his knees and grabbed the man’s right arm, twisting the man’s hand at the wrist, while pushing against his triceps.
Sadir howled in pain and tried to break the hold, but John used the leverage to ram Sadir face-first against the carpet. Sadir’s legs kicked uselessly as the rest of the team rushed into the apartment.
“Let me go,” Sadir shouted between gasps. “You have no right.”
Eric strolled leisurely into the room. “Abduhl Sadir,” he said, standing over the man. “You’ve been a naughty boy. We have some questions. We want to know just how naughty you’ve been.”
“I don’t know what you say,” Sadir moaned. “I have done nothing!”
John held Sadir tightly as the man squirmed beneath him. He relaxed the rotational pressure on Sadir’s arm, allowing the man to suck in a deep breath of air. “You’re going to answer the man’s questions,” John said, “or I’m going to twist your arm off your body. Do you understand?”
“I am a humble servant of God,” Sadir said. “You are treating me this way because you are against Islam! I have done nothing, I tell you.”
Sadir struggled to pull away from John’s grasp, and he re-applied the rotational pressure against Sadir’s arm, causing him to yelp.
Taylor, Mark, Deion, and Nancy stood in a semicircle, watching as Eric questioned Sadir. Taylor and Mark held their M11’s to their sides, but Nancy held hers in a tight grip, pointed steadily at the man on the floor.
Valerie watched in shock, and John thought she would speak out against their brutal takedown of Sadir, but she remained silent.
Eric squatted down to the floor, rocking back on the heels of his shoes. “I’m going to give you an opportunity. I don’t feel like arguing for the rest of the afternoon, so let’s skip the part where you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve acquired a nuclear weapon from North Korea, and you were just discussing it with your flunky in Syria. Now tell us everything we want to know about that weapon, where it is, and how you acquired it, or we’re going to disappear you into a hole so deep you’ll never be found.”
The man still struggled against his grip. “I know nothing of the things you speak—”
“John,” Eric interrupted. “Start breaking his fingers. Personally, I’d start with his pinky, but I’ll leave it up to you.”
John turned to Eric, but Eric wasn’t smiling.
Surely he doesn’t mean that.
Valerie stepped forward, but Eric turned his gaze upon her and she froze in her tracks. “Valerie, you might want to step outside. This is going to be… messy.”
Deion put his hand on her shoulder, but she recoiled. “You can’t do this.”
Eric’s laugh was more of a bark. “We’re not the police. We can do anything we want. John?”