A Touch of Deceit (Nick Bracco Series #1) (46 page)

Nick saw a Marine enter Kharrazi’s private quarters from the communications room and brief McKenna on the status of the cabin. Nick pulled his ear from the phone to overhear the Marine tell McKenna the cabin was completely secure. All KSF soldiers were either dead or captured. No Kharrazi.

“Nick,” Walt said. “Are you there? We’re holding up this press conference for your report. The President feels the only option is the withdrawal of troops from Turkey.”

Kelly and Rutherford seemed to be in complete agreement on the assessment of the detonator. They turned to Nick and waited for him to get off the phone.

“Hold on,” Nick said, and covered the tiny mouthpiece with his thumb. He looked at Rutherford, who was shaking his head.

“We’re screwed,” Rutherford said, in exactly the language Nick expected from him. “It’s a Rashid special.” He turned and pointed to the metal box between the battery and the timer. “There’s a surge monitor. If we disconnect any of the wires from the battery that support the detonator—” Rutherford flipped open his fingers in an explosive manner. “Auto destruct. The missiles fire immediately.”

“Then Kharrazi had no way of ever stopping the detonation, even if the President acquiesced?” Nick said.

Rutherford shrugged and reached into the safe to show Nick something. Nick heard Walt’s voice booming from the earpiece of his phone, “Nick! Answer me!”

Rutherford held up a square plastic board with at least twenty pegs that appeared to look like switches of some sort. It was connected to the other three devices with the same wires, but was hidden behind them. Kelly handed him a small forceps allowing Rutherford to hold the board with his hand aside, giving Nick a better view.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“Twenty four dummy switches and one kill button,” Rutherford said. “I’m sure only Kharrazi knows which button would shut the device off. The other twenty four simply detonate it early.”

“Nick!” Walt’s voice gained in volume and pitch.

Nick stared at Rutherford and put the phone to his ear. “I’m here, Sir.”

“Damn it, Nick, what the hell’s going on over there? The President has a nation waiting for him.”

“Hold on, Sir,” Nick put the phone down again and looked at Rutherford. “But Kharrazi’s not here, so he can’t disarm it."

Rutherford nodded. “Like I said, we’re screwed.”

Nick brought the phone to his ear just in time to hear Walt muttering his name.

“Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. I have the information you’re looking for.” Nick stamped his thumb over the mouthpiece again and pulled the phone down. “What about draining the battery?” Nick asked Rutherford. “Can’t you drain its power slowly without creating any surge in energy loss?”

Rutherford turned to Kelly to discuss the possibility. As they exchanged headshakes and discouraging murmurs, Nick returned the phone to his ear. He interrupted a barrage of cursing so harsh that Nick could actually see Walt Jackson’s face twisted with aggravation. “I’m here, Sir. I was just getting a last minute brief.”

“You leave this phone again and I swear I’ll—”

“Sir,” Nick interrupted. “There’s no need for any news conference. At least not one that announces any withdrawal.”

There was a pause. Nick found it hard not to stare at the timer. Thirty-two minutes.

Finally, Nick heard the dejected voice of President Merrick. “Why do you say that, Nick?”

“Because, Sir . . .” Nick thought carefully about his words. Rutherford made eye contact with Nick and shook his head with disheartened expression. “I’m looking at the detonator right now—”

“You found the detonator!” Jackson and Merrick’s voices collided across the airwaves.

“Yes,” Nick said. “We’re working on it right now.”

“So, you’ll be able to disarm the thing then?” Merrick sounded desperate.

Nick watched Rutherford’s grim face grow increasingly bleaker. Rutherford shook his head as if he could hear their question from across the room. Nick’s stomach tightened and his jaw clenched shut. He tried to open his mouth, but it locked up on him.

“Nick?” Walt said.

Nick couldn’t understand what was happening, but he became nauseous without an opening to vomit through. He thought he might have to vomit through his nose, when he turned from the group and slowly shuffled into the communications room. Matt trailed him with a suspicious look in his eye. Nick settled onto a round stool next to a tall wooden cabinet. Matt paced in a semicircle in front of Nick, half the time scrutinizing his partner’s physical appearance, the other half making sure no one approached them.

Nick heard Walt’s faint voice through the receiver, like background music in an elevator. He grasped the phone in a claw grip and felt the words tumble out of his mouth before he could realize their gravity. “Yes, Sir. We can disarm the detonator.”

There was silence. On the phone, and all around him, Nick heard nothing. Matt stared at him, expressionless.

“Nick,” Walt said, tentatively. “Are you certain?”

A pause while Nick reasoned with his struggling psyche. If the President gave in to Kharrazi, it would only be a matter of time before every terrorist on the globe was taking pot shots at America. Nick couldn’t afford to see that happen. His thoughts seemed to meander into a dim future, then surprisingly they resurfaced on the image of the small battery powering the detonator.

“Yes, Sir, I’m certain,” Nick said, feeling empowered somehow with the deceit. “The missiles will not be firing tonight, Mr. President, or any night for that matter. Tell the nation, we’re on the verge of capturing Kemel Kharrazi and putting an end to all of this madness.”

More silence. Nick saw astonishment sweep over Matt’s face.

“Nick?” Walt said. “Are you serious? You have Kharrazi?”

Nick wiped his brow and came back with moisture. At first he thought it was nerves, but it was more than that. It was as if he’d broken a fever; a ball and chain had been lifted from his subconscious. He was blurting fabrications like a politician. “He’s within our grasp. He won’t make it until morning.”

Merrick’s voice seemed to raise an excited octave. “Agent Bracco, I’m trusting you. I’m basing my decision solely on your report. Are you certain you can disarm the detonator?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’re positive you’ll have Kharrazi in custody tonight?”

Nick realized he’d passed the point of no return. He may end up doing prison time or spend the rest of his life bagging groceries, but he’d be damned if he was going to allow Kemel Kharrazi to terrorize America into submission.

“Yes, Sir,” Nick said.

“When you get back to Washington, I want to see you personally. We’ll set up a dinner for you and your wife up here at the White House. That sound all right with you?”

Nick’s hands trembled. “That’ll be just fine, Sir.”

Nick clicked off the phone and found Matt looking incredulous. “You just lied to the President of the United States?”

Nick looked down at the cell phone in his hand like it was a fired pistol.

Matt stared.

Nick wiped his clammy hands on his pants. “Um, it seems that we have work to do.”

Matt turned toward Kharrazi’s private quarters where Kelly and Rutherford were using nervous energy to appear productive. He gazed up the stairs that led to the main cabin where Kharrazi had certainly escaped.

“That’s great, Nick,” Matt said. “But in less than thirty minutes the White House is going to explode and Kemel Kharrazi will still be on the loose. Have you considered your future thirty-one minutes from now? Or have you thought that far ahead?”

Nick shook his head. “If I didn’t know you so well I’d almost believe you didn’t trust me anymore.”

Matt didn’t say anything but his expression changed. He looked at Nick with a shrewd smile. “You know where Kharrazi is?”

“I have an idea.”

“You’re going to find him and convince him to tell you which is the kill switch?”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t think there’s time for that.”

Over Matt’s shoulder, Nick saw Silk lurking nonchalantly.

Matt nodded toward the adjacent room. “Then how are you going to stop that thing from detonating?”

Nick pointed to a roll of thick black wire that curled around an enormous spool the size of a golf cart tire sitting on the shelf next to them. “Take that into the other room and start cutting it up into forty-foot sections.”

Matt only hesitated for a second, then he hefted the spool onto his shoulder and dutifully headed toward the room. He looked over his shoulder as he went. “You’ll tell me why eventually, right?”

With that started, Nick found McKenna at the base of the stairs exchanging words with another Marine. He gave Nick a steely glare when he approached.

“We have three KSF prisoners upstairs,” McKenna said. “You want to speak with any of them? Maybe get some ideas about that switchboard in there?”

Nick held up his hand. “Not right now. I need you to radio DPS and have them divert all vehicles down this private driveway. Have a couple of your men waiting outside the basement and instruct the cars to park facing the basement doors. As close as possible.”

McKenna started to ask a question, but Nick quickly cut him off. “Please, Sergeant, we don’t have time to discuss this. I promise a full explanation.”

McKenna paused. Staring at Nick, he pushed the button on the radio clipped to his shirt pocket and gave the orders Nick requested. When he was done, he said, “Does Kelly know about this?”

Before Nick could respond he heard Kelly’s voice from over his shoulder. “Do I know about what? And what’s going on with all those wires in there?”

Nick took a frustrated breath and addressed both of them, “DPS is diverting traffic to the basement doors. We’ll attach one end of the wires to the headlights of the cars and the other end to the detonator’s battery. One by one so we don’t cause a sudden voltage surge. The battery was never meant to do anything but power that small detonator, so it’s undersized and vulnerable. If we hustle we could drain it before the deadline and render it powerless to detonate those missiles.”

McKenna looked to Kelly for his reaction. Kelly stood motionless for a moment, seeming to let the idea run around in his head. Finally, he arched an eyebrow. “It might work.”

Kelly hurried to the back room and Nick followed. When they got there, Kelly took over the operation, explaining to Rutherford and the others as he went.

Silk grabbed Nick by the elbow and pulled him aside. “I overheard your conversation with Matt. You think you know where Kharrazi is?”

“This isn’t the time.”

“What are you talking about? This is exactly the time. You think I’m here for the scenery?” Silk glanced over his shoulder, then back to Nick. “We’re the ones who got you here. Without our information none of this is even happening.” He placed a fist over his heart. “You promised me a crack at this guy, Nicky. Don’t back away from that.”

Nick looked at his childhood friend and thought of the consequences. He wasn’t worried about himself, this was his last mission as a special agent. His career with the FBI was certain to end that night. Silk took the silence as a sign of agreement.

“Nicky?” Silk said. “You don’t trust me?”

Nick stared at Silk. “He’s too dangerous. I can’t let you do it.”

Silk narrowed his eyes. “I’m not exactly chopped liver over here.”

Nick looked at his watch and thought about the ability to stop the detonator and get Kharrazi at the same time. Silk was an unbelievable asset to leave on the sidelines. He brought Silk into a corner of the communications room and smoothed out a copy of the satellite photos on a wooden end table. He looked at the man he had grown up with in the streets of Baltimore and sighed. “He’s crafty, Silk, and without the usual thug mentality. He’ll surprise you.”

“Enough already.”

Nick nodded. “Just do me a favor. Don’t play with him. Put him down hard and fast. Capisce?”

Silk smiled at Nick’s perfect Sicilian dialect.

Nick showed Silk where he would find Kharrazi on the photo. He pointed out the glint from the mirror that he suspected was from a car or truck covered by branches. Nick gave him a compass and one last warning. “Be careful. He’s probably waiting until he’s certain he’s alone before he approaches the area.”

Silk patted Nick’s cheek. “Don’t worry, Boobala. Old Silk has a few tricks of his own. Besides, he started this whole thing by having the Capellis killed. Not to mention what he done to your family.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Listen, Nicky, you gotta promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“I screw up, you gotta track this guy down and finish him off for me.”

Nick didn’t say anything. He’d never heard Silk be anything but cocky.

Silk gently punched Nick’s shoulder, then left with a strut in his step.

But something gnawed at Nick deep inside. For the first time since he’d known Silk, he was actually concerned for his safety.

Kemel Kharrazi was seething. His greatest moment as the KSF leader and he would be forced to hear about President Merrick’s withdrawal speech after the fact. He had hoped to be in his private quarters enjoying cheese and grapes while Merrick bowed to his political prowess in front of a worldwide audience.