Black Flagged Apex (24 page)

Darryl struggled to keep calm. He knew this had to be related to Berg's recent request for weapons in Kazakhstan. He disconnected the call to Liz's resident assistant.

"Nobody's answering," he said.

"She'll be fine, honey. The area affected is limited to upper Morris County. Princeton's water supply can't be connected in any way. We'll get a hold of her and make sure she buys enough bottled water to get her through the next two weeks."

"If she's not out buying water right now, there's not much of a chance she'll get her hands on any," Darryl said.

"Then I'll buy it down here and drive it up to her. Easy fix," Cheryl said.

"I'll head out right now to buy the water."

"It sounds like some kind of terrorist attack to me. I think the whole Monchegorsk angle is fear mongering, though," Cheryl said, turning off the television.

"I don't know. It may not be that farfetched. I might know someone with inside information," Darryl said, wishing he hadn't made the statement.

"You're not calling him."

"If anyone knows, it'll be him. If they expect more attacks, we need to know."

His wife stared at him for five long seconds with an impassive face. Darryl didn't like seeing this face and could imagine the effect it would have on her staff or co-workers. She finally spoke to him.

"No requests or favors. Berg has two strikes against him at this point. One more and you're out."

"You mean
he's
out."

"I didn't misspeak. One more strike and you're out. Make sure to get a hold of Emily. She's on the other side of the country, but now you have me nervous," Cheryl said.

"I'll call her before I call Berg."

"Just hearing that name makes me cringe. I need to get moving here. I have a feeling we'll have more to discuss today than next year's curriculum and staffing levels. Keep me in the loop," Cheryl said and leaned over to kiss him goodbye.

"I will. Have a great day, my love," he said, returning the kiss.

His wife could be a real hard-ass at times, which was why he loved her even more. She'd set him straight a number of times, saving his ass from bad career moves and bad associations. The one bad habit she had never been able to break was his friendship with Karl Berg. They had a bond that could never be broken. Darryl walked through the kitchen into the den and opened one of his desk drawers, removing a "throwaway" cell phone. He dialed Berg's cell phone and waited. His friend answered on the third ring. Ten minutes later, Darryl Jackson called his wife and told her that he would take the day off and drive up to New Jersey to deliver their daughter as much bottled water as he could fit in their Suburban. He confirmed that Mount Arlington had experienced a terrorist attack on its water supply, but decided to omit the part about how the FBI and CIA couldn't account for fifty canisters of the same virus used to poison the city of Monchegorsk and turn it into a scene that would make George Romero jealous.

Chapter 19

7:11 AM

White House Situation Room

Washington, D.C.

Sharpe sat next to Mendoza at the head of a large conference table in the largest interior room attached to the NCTC's watch floor. The camera imbedded into the table transmitted a digital video feed of the two agents to the White House situation room, where their bright, smiling faces would be plastered on the largest flat-screen monitor available within sight of the president and most of his senior staff. To Sharpe's left, just out of camera view, sat O'Reilly, who would simultaneously transmit support media to another screen within the situation room. Ideally, she would display maps or diagrams that would provide a visual reinforcement of his talking points. They had discussed the synchronization of a few slides with his highlights immediately prior to the videoconference, but he wanted her to use her own judgment, which he trusted implicitly.

Then again, she hadn't been happy to hear about their illicit affair with General Sanderson's gang. He wouldn't be surprised to see his senior year high school portrait appear during the presentation, or much worse. O'Reilly's talent for data analysis was matched only by her proficiency with digital imaging software. He tried not to think of what might appear on the White House situation room screen if she was still as pissed off as she had been when Mendoza nearly had to drag her back into Sharpe's office. He'd hit the button to fog the windows like a panicky bank teller during a robbery, hoping that the windows were somewhat soundproof in addition to shatter resistant. He was pretty sure she would test all of those performance parameters after being pulled by her arm back in by Mendoza.

They all waited nervously, trying not to fidget or touch their faces. The director of FEMA, along with the Secretary of Homeland Security, provided an update regarding efforts to contain the poisoning of a portion of Morris County Municipal Utilities Authority's water supply system through the Mount Arlington pump station. Confirming what he already knew, FEMA's director explained how a critical error in Al Qaeda's target selection had likely spared them a major disaster. The Morris County Municipal Utilities Authority served as an indirect supplier of water to local water companies. None of the water that passed through their pump stations went directly to consumers. It was all stored in tanks owned by the townships or water companies, and subsequently piped to residents, creating a significant delay. CDC personnel, supported by state health officials, had been testing community water throughout the night and hadn't detected signs that the Zulu virus had been distributed. This had been a lucky break for Morris County residents. Their counterpart utilities provider in southern Morris County piped water directly to consumers. If the terrorists had chosen a pump station connected to the southern Morris County loop, they would be facing a catastrophe.

The president finally asked Director Shelby for an update regarding the Task Force's investigation. Joel Garrity, NCTC director, looked up from his terminal at the other end of the table. The technician next to him nodded, which prompted Garrity to give Sharpe a thumbs-up. They were live.

"Mr. President, Deputy Assistant Director Ryan Sharpe will brief us on Task Force Scorpion's progress. Agent Sharpe, you have the floor."

"You can skip all of the formalities, Agent Sharpe. This is a brass tacks meeting," the president said. "Where do we stand?"

"Yes, sir. Shortly after midnight, Hamid Muhammad, the Imam with known ties to at least three of the terrorist cells assassinated yesterday, escaped from a site under active and direct FBI surveillance. He may have been abducted. The disappearance was timed with a sophisticated cyber attack on FBI computer equipment at the stakeout site."

"He's gone? How could he have escaped?" demanded Jacob Remy, White House chief of staff.

"I'll get to that very shortly, sir. The good news is that we received an anonymous tip a few hours later that led to the apprehension of the last terrorist cell. They were hiding out in an apartment on the edge of a well-established Muslim community in Bayonne, New Jersey. We recovered four virus canisters from this site. This still leaves fifty canisters unaccounted for, but given the intelligence provided to us by the CIA, these were the last canisters in Al Qaeda's possession. We can now focus our investigation on the domestic terror network, True America. As you know, we've identified one of the previous evening's murderers as Julius Grimes, a known True America militant."

"You still haven't answered my question, Agent Sharpe," Remy insisted.

"I apologize, sir. One of the cell phones recovered in Bayonne showed calls to a landline inside an Arab market in Brooklyn. The market is located on Coney Island Avenue, Kensington. This is one of the biggest Muslim communities in the tri-state area. We're putting this site under surveillance as we speak. The calls were placed yesterday, prior to noon prayer. We think someone at the market coordinated the pedestrian delivery of a message to the Imam, who was hiding in the mosque at the time."

"The Imam was hiding in his own mosque, and you lost him? I think it's time for a sweeping look at FBI surveillance procedures. I can't believe this!" Remy fumed.

"If this is the first you've heard of Hamid Muhammad hiding in his own mosque, then I suggest the problem might lie at your own feet, Jacob. We've been working every angle possible for the past two days trying to get agents into that mosque! So far, Justice is dragging their feet, and my requests through your office appear to have vaporized into thin air! No offense, Joe. I know this is above your pay grade back in those hallowed halls," Shelby said.

Joseph Morales, the Department of Justice's assistant attorney general for National Security raised both of his hands in a mock defeated gesture. "None taken, of course."

"Gentlemen! We can work this out later. Agent Sharpe, do you think the Imam is hiding at the location you described?"

"It's possible, sir. We'll have the market under surveillance within the hour."

"I don't want to wait. Send in the troops. I'm comfortable hiding behind the Patriot Act on this one and the next one. No more waiting around for warrants to track down these psychopaths," the president said.

"But, Mr. President—"

"No buts, Mr. Morales. We have fifty canisters of an apocalyptic-level virus out there somewhere. If I had known we were waiting around for a warrant to enter that mosque, I would have grabbed some of the generals and admirals sitting at this table and driven down there myself to kick the door down."

"The market is one thing. The mosque is an entirely different story," the president's chief of staff interjected.

"Not anymore. We have several million taxpaying citizens in New Jersey staring at their water faucets in disbelief. The news agencies are all over this. Can anyone guess the lead segment on every radio and television news broadcast this morning? Worse yet, they're starting to crack the code linking Monchegorsk to last night's attack.

"It's a little hard to conceal the fact that I've ordered the National Guard and local law enforcement agencies to secure the water supply system. Convoys of heavily armed Humvee's tend to draw attention from a public unaccustomed to seeing .50 caliber machine guns on Main Street. We can all guess where this will go very shortly, ladies and gentlemen. The Russian crackdown, despite the human rights horror involved, has bought us some valuable time. Time that's running out. We need to reassure the American people that the situation is under control. Agent Sharpe, how long until we can have a tactical unit inside that market?"

"Not long, sir. Ten minutes. May I make a proposal, Mr. President? One that will better serve the investigation."

"If you're worried about the legal ramifications, I can promise you it will not be an issue for you or anyone on your task force," the president assured him.

"I'm not worried about that, sir. Here's the problem. I'm fairly confident that Al Qaeda's role is finished. What we desperately need are some True America leads. According to the intelligence shared with my task force, the Imam collaborated with True America to gain funding for the development of the virus, in exchange for a portion of the final product. It appears True America never had any intention of honoring the deal, which makes sense. The last thing True America needs is to be connected in any way with the most reviled terrorist network in history. The Imam is the last remaining link between True America and Al Qaeda. If I were sitting on the throne at True America, I'd want him dead. They can't afford to have this nexus confirmed and made public. The Imam' network has been sloppy, as evidenced by the fact that eight out of ten cells were taken out. It's only a matter of time before True America finds him, and when they do, we'll be there. I plan to put the market under full tactical surveillance with snipers and an army of SWAT agents ready to storm the building."

Jacob Remy started to open his mouth to make what Sharpe could only assume was a crack about the task force's recent surveillance record, but the president intervened.

"Shelby, make this happen. I like the way this agent thinks. Good luck, Agent Sharpe."

"Thank you, Mr. President."

"Agent Sharpe, I'll be in touch shortly to discuss the assets involved," Director Shelby added.

The NCTC technician gave a hand signal indicating that the videoconference was finished.

"That's it. Let me know if you need anything else. I'll have the screens configured for side-by-side video streams within the hour. My techs just need the feed protocols from the field tactical teams to make it happen," said Joel, the watch floor director.

"Thanks, Joel. When the teams are set, I'll make sure they get the right protocols," O'Reilly said.

"Good luck today. Should be interesting," he said.

"Let's hope so," Sharpe added.

When Garrity and his technician closed the door, Mendoza made the first comment. "I can't wait for Shelby's call. Assets involved? I can't believe they're going to keep this a secret. Do you think Jacob Remy knows we're using Black Flag assets?"

"Be careful with those words," Sharpe warned.

"The use of Sanderson's people has been sanctioned by the president. No limitations. I can't imagine Remy was left out of that decision."

"One thing is clear. We better not fuck up the market operation," O'Reilly said.

"I still think we need the Imam at the market," Mendoza said.

"You want to put that request through Ms. Stewart? Maybe they can drug him unconscious and sit him at a stool inside the market. Carry him around like
Weekend at Bernie's
," Sharpe said.

"Except he wouldn't be dead. Might work," O'Reilly added.

They all laughed briefly, then Sharpe got serious.

"At least we assume he isn't dead. Director Shelby never gave me the full details behind Sanderson's sudden return to the government's good graces, but it apparently involved a level of deception and manipulation similar to the stunt he pulled two years ago. He did tell me not to get comfortable with Sanderson's people," Sharpe said.