Black Flagged Apex (12 page)

Read Black Flagged Apex Online

Authors: Steven Konkoly

"Better than anyone. I'm not too worried. None of the operatives provided by Sanderson had any involvement with the events two years ago. Agent Demir was seriously impressed with the team assigned to Mobile HQ. Moriarty liked what she saw too."

"I'm less concerned about the field operatives. Let's keep a tight watch on Ms. Stewart. I find it odd that Sanderson would insist on placing a liaison with us. Call me paranoid," Sharpe said.

"I feel the same way. I'll make sure they understand the ground rules when your briefing is finished."

"I want to talk to her myself," he said, turning his stare toward Mendoza.

Mendoza nodded as Sharpe addressed the group. As soon as it was apparent that he would speak, the entire watch floor quieted.

"We have a few new developments. Intelligence provided a few minutes ago by the CIA has identified and confirmed all of the addresses that received canisters of the Zulu virus. Eleven in total. Ten of the addresses are located in the tri-state area. We already knew about seven of these locations. The eleventh address is in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. FedEx. Agent Moriarty, I want FBI rapid-response teams at the three remaining tri-state area locations immediately. The data just went live on your feed. I'll coordinate a response for the Harrisburg location."

Kathryn Moriarty, special agent-in-charge of Task Force Scorpion's Mobile HQ, acknowledged Sharpe's order with the word "understood." She didn't waste words or time like so many other agents of her tenure, which was one of the primary reasons that Sharpe had chosen her as Field Lead for the task force. Like Agent Mendoza, she was also one of the most capable and decisive agents he had ever met. He had considered sending Mendoza out into the field to lead the team, but felt his skills would be better served helping him run the show at NCTC. He had worked extensively with Mendoza on Task Force Hydra and had grown comfortable with the agent's unflappable sense of guarded optimism. Mendoza had talked him off the ledge more than once. If the Zulu virus conspiracy was about to take the turn he suspected, he'd need Mendoza more than ever before.

"At this point, we haven't recovered a single canister of the virus. We know that four canisters were shipped to each location around New York and that the rest were likely sent to Pennsylvania. Let's get with our FedEx contacts and confirm this," Sharpe said.

"Already on it, sir," Special Agent O'Reilly replied.

"It appears that forty canisters went to Al Qaeda cells clustered in the tri-state area. Seven of these cells were already under FBI surveillance. A coordinated strike by an unknown force took down six of them. No canisters were recovered. One cell is missing and presumably retained their canister. We'll see what we find at the other three locations. Surveillance records have provided us with a possible avenue to investigate. One of the killers removed his ski mask at the wrong time, and we captured an image of his face. This person has just been identified as Julius Grimes, a member of the fringe political group True America. A connection between True America and the virus is speculative at this point, but I want to dig deeper into this organization. True America is one of several groups that my team has tracked for the past year, and I don't believe this is a coincidence. They've been stockpiling high-end weaponry and recruiting ex-military types. Apparently, Grimes is a Best Buy manager by day and an assassination team leader by night."

"What is his status at the moment?" asked Jason Volk, NCTC watch floor supervisor.

"Missing. He didn't report for work this morning. I have a feeling we won't catch any easy breaks on this one, ladies and gentlemen."

"Will we be putting other possible True America militants under surveillance? How extensive is the list that you've developed?" asked Salvador Guerrero, Homeland Security's primary liaison to the NCTC.

"Yes. That'll be one of our primary tasks. We'll start to break down these assignments immediately. My list of possible militants is a short one. As a legitimate political movement, True America has rapidly expanded over the past three years, with political action offices in every major city and thousands of volunteers. The early extremist views and calls for a government overthrow were quickly moderated as its popularity grew. Lee Harding, one of the group's founders, used to give speeches every week, espousing a violent overthrow of the government. Same with Jackson. As it stands, we rarely ever see True America's original leadership council. They've been replaced by a growing number of governors, legislators and public sector types that have pledged to support the movement to retake America in 2008."

"This is a vast, well-connected organization. We'll need to move cautiously in the direction of True America," added Dan Moreno, counsel for the Department of Justice.

"Mr. Moreno is right. True America is a multi-faceted organization, with over twenty million supporters and thousands of grassroots volunteers. We'll need more than Grimes' involvement to take this outside of the task force. Currently, there is no detectable nexus between the militant arm and the mainstream political movement. We tried to tie the two together, but the sidelining of Greely and Harding severely hampered our efforts. We don't know if their vanishing act was purposely orchestrated to draw attention away from the extremist elements of the organization or if it was a forced 'retirement' imposed by mainstream leadership. Either way, it doesn't matter. The militant arm has been stockpiling sophisticated weaponry through several known arms dealers. They're up to something. Grimes' appearance at an Al Qaeda safe house wasn't a coincidence. More like an extremely bad omen. We'll start with the list my team has cultivated and see where it takes us. Special Agent O'Reilly will take the lead on this and provide tasking," he said, nodding to O'Reilly.

"The majority of this task force will continue to investigate leads related to the confirmed Al Qaeda network in the New York tri-state area. At least three of the cells are connected to Imam Hamid Abdul Mohammed, the radical founder of Masjid Muhammad, his own mosque right in the heart of these neighborhoods. Hamid Mohammed is without a doubt connected to Muslim extremists and has been under surveillance for years. He's been preaching to young Muslims since he arrived in the U.S. from Saudi Arabia six years ago, and he is suspected of recruiting at least one of the men involved in plotting to blow up a police station in Philadelphia. The White House has been looking for a reason to send him to Guantanamo Bay ever since he landed on U.S. soil."

"This should be more than enough to bring him in for questioning," said Guerrero from Homeland, glancing over at the representative from the Department of Justice.

"We'd love to bring him in, but he never returned to his apartment after leaving his mosque on the night of the killings. According to the Newark field office, he vanished without a trace," Sharpe said.

"Has the FBI searched the mosque?" Callie Stewart yelled from the back of the room.

Agent Sharpe glanced sharply in her direction and responded. "On what grounds? I would need a warrant to authorize a search of the mosque, and as it stands, I don't think there's a judge out there that would issue one based on my strong suspicion that Muhammad is connected to some of the men killed yesterday. The men attended his mosque, but beyond that, we have no evidence that the men are directly connected to the Imam. Quite frankly, we had no evidence that the men under surveillance in the houses were connected to Al Qaeda."

"Then how could the FBI authorize the surveillance?" she persisted.

"The Patriot Act provides us with an expanded range of options for intelligence gathering, with fewer restrictions. However, it does not give us the right to search Hamid Muhammed's mosque. Unless Justice can find me a judge that will approve a warrant to enter one of the most controversial mosques in the country," Sharpe said.

Before Dan Moreno from the Department of Justice could answer Sharpe's rhetorical question, Stewart continued. "What if you suspected that some of the canisters might be hidden in the mosque? Are any of the missing cells connected to Hamid Muhammed?"

"None of them directly. The three cells with solid ties were eliminated last night. Special Agent Moriarty and her crew will turn Newark inside out to find Mr. Muhammed. If he's alive, we'll find him shortly," he said, not exactly sure why he was answering to one of Sanderson's lackeys.

"Unless he's hiding in his own mosque. I'd keep a close watch for anyone bringing takeout orders to 38 Jay Street," she said and whispered something to Admiral DeSantos.

"Since a warrant to raid any of the area mosques is off the table, we need to focus on finding Hamid Muhammed and the missing cell. Like Mr. Muhammed, the cell under surveillance on Sherman Avenue never returned to their apartment after sunset prayer at the Islamic Cultural Center. We have three additional addresses to investigate, which will add more names to the list."

"I have SWAT assets headed to each site. They should all be secured in under ten minutes," Agent Moriarty said through the teleconference feed displayed on the large screen to his right.

"We'll hit a good lead if we keep adding more data to the crunch pile. Any last questions? Good," he said, without really waiting for anyone to respond.

"I want to give Agent Moriarty something solid to pursue by tomorrow morning. It's going to be a long night."

Sharpe watched the crowd of agents, analysts and technicians head to their assigned stations on the floor. He was amazed how nearly seventy people could be swallowed whole by the vast watch floor. Once the group assembled in front of him had dispersed, the room fell silent again, giving him the false sense that nothing would be accomplished here. He missed the crowded, poorly ventilated operations rooms at the J. Edgar Hoover building, where he couldn't yell across the room and expect to be heard above the din of activity and voices.

Everything was different here. Everyone wore Bluetooth earpieces, which connected each person to both their desk node and NCTC issued touch-screen phone. Using the NCTC application on the touch-screen phone, they could access the approved external and internal directories from anywhere inside NCTC, allowing them to quickly communicate with any other station in the building or place a secured call outside of NCTC. The level of activity in the room would soon rival the New York Stock Exchange trading floor, yet he still felt like he might be interrupting someone's concentration if he used a normal voice to talk to Agent Mendoza, who stood right next to him waiting for his marching orders.

"Frank. Get O'Reilly moving in the right direction with True America and stand by to hit the ground running with any new leads from the three new Al Qaeda locations. We need to turn something over quickly," he said, glancing in Callie Stewart's direction.

"You could have just texted me that message with your new gadget," Mendoza said.

"You know damned well I don't know how to send a text message. And I have no intention of looking like one of those idiots talking to himself," Sharpe said.

Sharpe's earpiece emitted a soft electronic tone, which only he could hear. His touch phone vibrated at the same time.

"Looks like you have a call," Mendoza said.

Sharpe pulled the phone out of his NCTC issued holster and read the screen. "Special Agent O'Reilly." A green button on the screen said "Press to Accept."

"I just press the button on the screen?" Sharpe said.

"Jesus. Haven't you seen an iPhone before? How old is your daughter?"

"Fourteen. She has my wife's old phone," Sharpe said.

"Getting a little old for hand-me-down phones," Mendoza said. "Better get that call," he added.

Sharpe pressed the button on the screen. "How can I help you, Dana?"

"No. I don't need anything. Just wanted to say hi," she said, waving from her station fifteen feet away.

"Are you kidding me?" he yelled across to her, attracting everyone's attention.

"You don't need to speak that loudly. The earpiece is really sensitive," she said.

"I can hear you talking at your station," he said, directing the comment at her crescent-shaped work area.

"Frank, square her away. I need to speak with our new friends before they disappear," he said, brushing past Mendoza.

Stewart and Admiral DeSantos had started walking with an army colonel to the closest staircase, most likely with the intent of disappearing into the Defense Intelligence Agency's office to discuss their apparent non-role in the task force. As far as he was concerned, Department of Defense (DoD) assets would be used as a last resort. He hadn't been comfortable giving them full access to the NCTC watch floor and their data stream, but the order to fully integrate DoD assets had trickled down from the very top.

Still, he needed to establish a few ground rules with Stewart and her minders. Director Shelby had given him a positive appraisal of the admiral, but was suspicious of the DIA's involvement. Shelby was suspicious of everyone, which was probably why he had survived the administrative and political game at the bureau long enough to be named director. He had good reason to be wary of DeSantos.

The SEAL admiral ran the Defense Intelligence Agency's Strategic Services Branch (SSB), which was essentially a legalized, "on the books" version of Sanderson's original Black Flag program. The SSB rose from the ashes of Sanderson's disgraced Black Flag program, allowing the Department of Defense to retain their own field intelligence gathering capability. Strict legislative oversight ensured that the SSB would never morph back into the black hole of misappropriated funding and undocumented intelligence activity that defined the Black Flag program. Old habits died hard, and Shelby didn't want Sanderson's people infecting Task Force Scorpion. The director already suspected that Sanderson had some key allies inside the Beltway. Allies that appeared enthusiastic about his return.

"Admiral DeSantos, Ms. Stewart, may I have a quick word with you in my office?" he said, before they started to ascend the stairs.

"Absolutely. I wasn't sure how you wanted to handle introductions, so we thought we'd sneak off and seek you out a little later when everything had settled down," DeSantos said.

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