The imam raised his hands. “Attacks? I know nothing of any attacks.”
Jake slammed his fist against the side of the man’s nose. The man fell to his knees, blood poured from his nose. The man wiped his nose with his garment. Blood smeared across the side of his face.
“Monsieur.”
“Shut up, Philippe.”
“Take him to the men’s prayer room. There will be others there also.” Kaplan said. “Someone will talk.”
Jake pointed his gun at the imam. “Get up. Let’s go.”
Kaplan grabbed the man by the arm, pulled him to his feet, and led him toward the rear of the mosque.
A door opened into a semi-circular room, the men’s prayer room. Prayer mats lay on the floor, all facing the same direction. A man stepped from behind a curtain in the rear with a rifle. As the man raised the rifle, Jake fired three shots in rapid succession. The man fell to the mosque floor.
Jake motioned for Philippe to move left. Jake moved to the right side of the room. Kaplan held the imam in front of him. Jake and Philippe held their pistols ready as they moved slowly toward the back of the room.
Kaplan jammed his barrel into the man’s neck. “How many more?”
The imam said nothing.
Kaplan grabbed the man’s throat and squeezed. The man’s face turned red and he gasped for air. “How many more?”
“Three.”
Kaplan relaxed his grip. “Where are they?”
Nothing.
Kaplan pushed against the man with his barrel. “Your choice. Answer or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”
“Two in the back.” He pointed with a head movement. “And one in the cellar guarding the prisoner.”
“Tell them to come out now or they’re dead men.” Kaplan ordered.
“Raman. Sharif. Do as he says. Lower your weapons and come out.” The imam shouted.
Two men appeared from behind a curtain. One hand raised, the other lowered, each holding his rifle by the barrel.
“Drop the guns.” Philippe shouted. “Lay face down, hands behind your back.”
The men did as requested. Philippe reached into his pocket and retrieved flex cuffs. He cuffed the two men while Jake held his gun on them.
Jake walked over to the imam, grabbed his arm, walked him to a chair, and pushed him onto it. “I’ll ask you again. Where are they going to attack?”
“I do not know.” The imam pleaded. “Khan told no one but his men. We were never to know until afterwards — Khan’s orders.”
Jake raised his fist to hit the imam.
“Please, no.” The imam cowered. “The man downstairs, the prisoner, he is one of Khan’s men. He knows the locations. Khan said he is a failure, a disgrace to Allah. My orders are to hold him here until Khan returns. I fear the fate of the young man under the hand of Khan.”
“What about the man watching him?” Jake asked. “Will he surrender or will I have to kill him too?”
The imam shook his head. “He answers to me, not Khan. He will offer no trouble.”
Kaplan led the way with the imam to the cellar. The imam was right, his man surrendered his weapon as instructed. Philippe flex cuffed him as he did the others. The prisoner, Khan’s failure, was duct taped to a chair. Wearing nothing but a thin robe, he sat there. Legs bound, arms bound, chest bound. A strip of duct tape placed over his mouth.
The imam told the three men Khan had left specific instructions that the young man wasn’t to be touched, moved, or fed. The man was a disgrace to Islam, to Al Qaeda, to Allah and would be dealt with harshly. He would never see Paradise. And anyone who touched him would be dealt with even harsher.
“Do you understand English?” Jake asked.
The man nodded.
Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out his Leatherman. He cut away the front of the man’s robe from the waist down leaving the young man exposed. “Let me tell you how this works. First I ask you a question. Then you give me an answer. If I think you’re lying, I’ll cut something off. Each time you lie, I’ll cut something else off until there is nothing left. Am I getting through to you? Do you understand?”
The young man nodded.
Jake ripped the tape from the young man’s mouth. “Good. Now tell me everything you know about Khan and the attacks he’s planned for Paris.”
Khan drove with determination toward downtown Paris. He’d memorized the planned route along with several avenues for escape — something, until now, he didn’t think he’d need. But considering the GIGN might be alerted to his plans, the escape routes became viable options.
He’d planned to return to the Mosque de Trappes after the suicide bombings to deal with the young man — an example must be made. By then, Paris would be in mayhem. The national and international medias would swarm into the city. All rescue and law enforcement personnel from surrounding communities would be called into action to help the wounded. The hospitals and morgues would be overrun. Time was on his side. The Islamic nation will have struck again at the heart of the infidel. Al Qaeda would be blamed. Khan would be victorious.
With the gendarmerie alerted to the mosque and his attacks, Khan now knew he couldn’t return to the Mosque de Trappes. A possibility he’d planned for, just in case something like this did occur. Now his alternative course of action was sealed, he’d drop off the bombers, his merchants of death, then flee the city of Paris and the country of France. He would flee undetected.
He dropped off the first two bombers across the river from the first target location. Theirs was a simple task. Walk across the bridge, fall in line with the many tourists, and wait for the designated time. Then they could shout their final prayer and detonate the vests. Paradise waited for them.
Khan dropped the second two bombers, his most reliable men, at the entrance to the great museum. Their task was to enter the glass pyramid and descend into its depths. There, they would meet Allah and be transcended to Paradise.
CHAPTER 45
The young terrorist offered no resistance to Jake’s inquiries. Jake recognized the man knew his chances with Jake and Kaplan were much better than the horror of being left to deal with Khan. Philippe radioed ahead to Heuse who would send gendarmerie forces to the two target areas. The descriptions the young man gave Jake of Khan’s men were vague. The only useful information vetted was the description of the men’s clothing and which entrance would be used at the great museum.
Jake glanced at his watch. Khan had set the time of detonation to coincide with one of America’s most infamous dates—9:11 a.m. Sixteen minutes from now. Jake and Kaplan were still five kilometers from reaching the destination Heuse sent them to — the Louvre museum. The target guaranteed to have the highest tourist count. Guaranteed to cause mass hysteria and panic.
As they sped through the cramped and crowded streets, Euro siren wailing, Jake wondered where Kyli was. The city was a tourist Mecca. Thousands flocked daily to visit the Parisian sights. The odds Kyli and her friend were near either of the two targets was remote, but not impossible. How could she have left Leuven without her cell phone? It seemed irresponsible due to the gravity of the situation.
The black GIGN Mercedes sped across Pont du Carrousel toward the entrance to the Louvre Museum. Philippe swerved to avoid a bus full of tourists at the entrance. Jake and Kaplan checked their weapons, loaded fresh magazines, and then tucked their Glocks in their jackets. The sound suppressors removed made for an easy, comfortable fit.