“Why doesn’t Wiley leak this to the creators?” Jake rolled the ball on the table noticing the rubbers studs stop the ball from rolling. “This could have some very useful real-life benefits for law enforcement and fire departments.”
“It certainly could. And the original model has been used for those exact purposes. But you can see the problems if the advanced RTI fell in the wrong hands. That’s why the bureaucracy won’t let it reach commercial use. Now let me show you how the software works.”
Jake spent the next three hours with Kyli learning the intricacies of the RTI including troubleshooting in the event any unforeseen circumstance arose.
“Okay, let’s pack this up so it’s ready to go.” She dropped a padded backpack on the table. “Everything has a pouch. Load it up.”
It took Jake less than a minute. “All finished.”
“Good job, Jake. Let’s go.” Kyli motioned toward the door. “I have a big night in store for you.”
Jake felt the conflict playing tug-of-war with his emotions.
“Jake, do I make you nervous?”
“No, not at all.” He lied.
CHAPTER 20
Hashim Khan met with the leaders of the Trappes Islamic Association in a room behind the men’s prayer room. The imam, or worship leader of the mosque and the TIA, wanted assurances from Khan that the planned attacks would not implicate the Muslims of Trappes. He gave them that assurance — he lied.
Deception had become an integral part of his life. A part of his life he prayed would not keep him from Paradise. With the growing trend of political correctness among Muslims trying to break the terrorist stigma, deception was a necessary evil.
Earlier in the day, Khan had picked up a shipment of laser printer toner cartridges from the shipping company in Versailles. Contained in those crates were five well-hidden, lead foiled covered cartridges with C-4 explosives packed inside plastic coated and sealed rollers. All made possible by the creative ingenuity of the Hilal Shipping Company of Aden, Yemen.
Martyrs from the Yemen cell arrived in Paris on separate flights originating from varying locations, each with specific instructions. Step-by-step directions allowed them to never cross each other’s paths, and arrive at the Mosque De Trappes at designated times. All five were safely tucked away in the basement dormitory making final preparations for the suicide attacks. Each man was given his own cot, his own prayer blanket, and his own footlocker to store the last of their possessions. Possessions that would be shipped back to their families with praises of each man’s martyrdom. He had given them one week to prepare. Seven days to make peace with Allah. Seven days to cleanse themselves.
Seven days to live. Seven days until Paradise.
TIA followed Khan’s orders — acquiring everything on the list. Now it was his time to go to work. He scanned the material on the tables. After he assembled each unit, filling each of the cylinders with explosives and steel balls then wiring them into the fabric, the suicide vests weighed roughly thirty-five pounds. Hidden beneath overcoats, the C-4 blast would kill anyone within a forty-foot radius. The power of the explosives would cause major structural damage as well as amassing multitudes of casualties.
Khan used extra precaution since the Australian cell had been taken out. The world authorities now suspected there might be further attacks and tightened security. He’d planned for that scenario.
His martyrs in France would leave hundreds dead, an effective blow against the infidel.
Khan planned the attacks and only Khan knew when and where the attacks would occur.
Attacks.
Plural.
He’d chosen two of Paris’ icons, guaranteeing high tourist attraction and high body count. But that was only half his plan. The major blow, the highest body count, would come later when he attacked an unsuspecting United States location. A location where large numbers of unsuspecting men, women, and children jammed into unsecured areas.
When Khan attacked there, the death toll would reach into the thousands. America and the world would soon realize that no place was safe. And once again, al Qaeda would be responsible for the free world’s stripping its citizens of their rights and privileges — all in the name of security.
The free world would evolve into a police state.
CHAPTER 21
Jake stepped out of the shower just as his cell phone started ringing. He towel dried his thick dirty blond hair as he walked toward the phone. He looked at the Caller-ID. A number he didn’t recognize.
“Jake Pendleton.”
“Jake, I just wanted to let you know you can sleep in tomorrow morning. Kyli will pick you up around noon. I’ll bring you up to speed when we leave for Yemen. We need to arrive after dark so we’ll eat on the plane. Kaplan and someone from the Delta team will meet us in Aden.”
“Have you found another pilot?”
“Don’t worry, Jake. We’ll have two pilots.”
There was a knock on Jake’s door. He wrapped the towel around his waist.
“Sir, if that’s all…”
“One more thing Jake. Kyli’s a free spirit, don’t let her get you in trouble.”
“I can handle Kyli, sir.” Another knock on the door. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Good to know.” Wiley clicked off the phone.
“Just a second.” Jake threw the towel on the floor and pulled on his pants.
Without a shirt on, Jake opened the door. She stood in front of him wearing a layered gray dress with black nylons and knee length fur-lined boots. The purple streak in her hair was gone. She had thrown her black jacket over her shoulder.
“What the…? Why aren’t you dressed? You need to get your ass in gear mister or we’re going to be late.”
“I didn’t know I was under a time constraint. I’ll be dressed in a minute.”
He started to close the door when Kyli pushed it open and walked in. “Hurry. I’ll be waiting…" She sat on the couch. "…right here.”
Jake grabbed his clothes and took them into the bathroom. “I just got off the phone with Wiley. He says you’re trouble and I should stay away from you. Is that true?”
“You spent all day with me, Jake. I’m a scientist, what do you think?”
He walked out of the bathroom buttoning his shirt. “I think there’s something neither one of you is telling me. Something between the two of you. He sounded either jealous or protective. I’m not sure which. My guess is he’s either your lover or your father.”
Kyli doubled over laughing. “You’re wrong on both accounts. If he were my lover then there’d be something wrong with both of us. I just turned twenty-eight and he’s seventy-one. That’d make him a creep and me very desperate, which I assure you I am not. Of course, if he were my father, then my name would be Kyli Wiley. How cool would that be?”
“Then what is it? It’s more than employee, employer.” Jake slipped on his shoes and grabbed a jacket.
“Mr. Wiley’s oldest daughter, Mira married Michael Wullenweber, my father. My parents met in Germany and lived there until my father died. I was five. Elmore Wiley is my grandfather. He moved my mother and me to the States and has taken care of me ever since.”
“Elmore? Seriously?”
“Seriously. And don’t you dare tell him I told you either.” Kyli got up and walked toward the door. ”Are you ready?”
“You still didn’t tell me where we’re going.”
“I’ll let you figure it out. Where are we? Geographically I mean.”
“Belgium.”
“What month is this?”
“Last time I looked it was October.”