Merrick took another deep breath, then leaned over the podium, his hands clenching the sides of the wooden structure in a vice-like grip. He stared straight into the camera, “Folks, there has never been a time in U.S history when a terrorist group has forced us to relinquish our freedom as a nation and we will not do so now. The young men and woman of our military were sent to Turkey because of the brutalities acted out by the KSF. They are there to protect the innocent citizens of Turkey and they will remain there until the KSF is dismantled. And be assured, they will be dismantled. Every last one of them will be brought to justice, including their ringleader, Kemel Kharrazi. Never before has a President guaranteed the capture of a criminal. But today I am here to tell you that Kemel Kharrazi will be apprehended, and it will happen very soon.”
Nick and Matt looked at each other. If anyone knew how close Kharrazi was to being apprehended, it was them. The President was writing checks he couldn’t cash. This didn’t prevent Matt from grinning widely.
“I love that guy,” Matt beamed.
Julie examined her husband’s face. “Is that true?” she asked. “Are you close to getting Kharrazi?”
Nick winced. “Well,” he began. Then his eyes met hers and he saw the hope that lingered there.
Julie pointed a finger at him. “You remember your promise?”
“What promise?” Matt asked, watching the president leave the podium.
“Nick is going to quit being a field agent after the KSF is through terrorizing the country,” Julie said.
“Really?”
“Really,” Nick answered firmly.
“You mean I’m going to have to find a new partner?” Matt asked.
“It looks that way,” Nick said.
Matt crushed his empty beer can and frowned. “I’m not so sure I want to stick around without you.”
“What are you talking about?” Nick scoffed. “You love your job. You couldn’t do anything more gratifying.”
“That’s true, but the reason I love it so much is because we work so well together. I don’t want to have to go through that whole breaking in process again. I could find investigative work in the private sector and probably double my salary.”
“See,” Julie said. “Everybody wins.”
Nick decided to change the subject. “How’s Tommy?”
“When I left the hospital this afternoon, the doctors felt like he was out of the woods,” she said.
“Good.” Nick checked his watch. “We’d better get going.”
“Now where?” Julie said.
“We have a meeting downtown.”
“At the office?”
Nick glanced at Matt. “Not exactly.”
Julie tossed the washcloth playfully at her husband. “I swear Nick Bracco, living with you is like living with a-”
“A spy?” Nick finished for her.
“That’s right, a spy. I can’t wait until you get a regular job and come home and tell me every boring detail about your day.”
Matt went over and gave Julie a peck on the forehead. “Thanks for the chow, Jule.”
She smiled at Matt. “All I ask is that you take care of him. He hasn’t far to go.”
“Don’t worry,” Matt said heading for the door, “I can see his pot belly growing already.”
Chapter 19
Huseyn Yildiri was surrounded by thirty of the KSF’s most powerful soldiers. They stood around him sharpening their knives and cleaning the barrels of their rifles. A conference table was wedged into the corner of the room where a computer and three small televisions continuously displayed news and information. He was the only one seated at the folding table in the middle of the room. He sipped his cup of water with shaky hands while they all waited for Kemel Kharrazi to speak.
Kharrazi paced opposite the table with his hands behind his back. His face screwed up into a tight, pained expression.
Huseyn prayed for Kharrazi to say something, but his leader simply stalked the cellar where they assembled and listened to Huseyn explain his ordeal. Huseyn didn’t dare delve too deeply into the explanation of his exit from their safe house. It was one thing to run from bullets, yet another to leave a brave KSF soldier behind, dead. He tried to paint his escape as necessary. “I knew that you must learn of this situation. That is why I came here immediately, Sarock.”
Huseyn wiped his brow and studied the smooth cement floor. He thought about the look the FBI agent had given him. The man was walking to his death when he glanced over his shoulder and gave Huseyn a deliberate warning. It was as if the agent knew something and he was trying to caution Huseyn. He was trying to get Huseyn to run off. It had worked.
Kharrazi stopped in front of Huseyn and crouched down, so he was looking up at the man. He spoke to the young soldier as if he were speaking to one of his children, soft and calm. “He told you that his partner was in the refrigerator and somehow you were surprised when he turned up there?”
Huseyn’s body was shuddering so powerfully that he simply willed his torso to remain still and allowed his head to bobble itself into a nod. “Yes, Sarock. The door blinded me from viewing the inside of the machine, but I barely escaped when the shots were fired.”
Kharrazi looked skeptical as he stood and made another pass by the table. “So then, Mr. Bracco is still alive?”
Huseyn remained paralyzed with fear. He could think of nothing to say.
A roomful of muttering soldiers echoed off of the bare concrete walls. He shook his head like a shameful principal and knelt next to Huseyn. Kharrazi’s fingers caressed the young boy’s face and sent icy streaks of panic down Huseyn’s neck. He knew that Kharrazi had the quickness of a leopard, whose hands were capable of tearing his face apart before he could flinch.
“Tell me something,” Kharrazi whispered. The room became still. At first Huseyn thought that fear had caused him to become deaf. He couldn’t hear anything but Kharrazi’s voice. He suddenly realized that even the televisions had been turned down so that every soldier could eavesdrop on the proceedings. “How many rounds did you fire at the agents?”
Huseyn wasn’t prepared for such a refined interrogation. He hadn’t thought through all of the details. How many shots? Why did he want to know? Wasn’t it enough that he was shot at?
“Uh, I think two,” Huseyn hesitated. “It happened so fast, I can’t remember exactly.”
Kharrazi held out his hand. “May I have your gun?”
Crazy thoughts ran through Huseyn’s mind. He couldn’t possibly shoot his way out of the cellar. He considered turning the gun on himself. It would be quick and ease his tension. But a glimmer of hope lingered in his mind. The way Kharrazi was touching him, gently, and speaking so softly. Maybe he had pity for his soldier?
Huseyn removed the gun from his belt strap and with trembling fingers he handed Kharrazi the fully loaded weapon.
Kharrazi didn’t examine the gun. He looked straight into Huseyn’s eyes and seemed to be measuring his reaction while his hands roamed over the exterior of the weapon, searching for any evidence of a recent firing.
A voice from behind them urgently said, “Sarock, the American President is speaking on television.”
Kharrazi didn’t turn right away. He lightly patted Huseyn’s cheek. A momentary reprieve.
The KSF soldiers fell in around their leader and watched as President Merrick announced the imminent capture of Kemel Kharrazi. The raucous crowd of soldiers hollered their disproval at the TV screen, but Kharrazi gestured for them to stop. He listened as the president made false promises to the American people. When the president left the podium, Kharrazi switched off the TV and turned to address his followers.
“This is exactly what I had hoped for,” Kharrazi said. His words stunned the group.
Nihad Tansu elbowed his way to the front and said, “Sarock, they must know something. Maybe we should
