“He okay?” Nick asked.
“He’s fine,” Matt said. “Luke bandaged him up on the ride over here.”
Tommy dug a purple toothpick in his mouth. “So are you gonna tell me about this Barzani guy?”
“Well,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair, “he’s smart. He graduated from Georgetown with a Political Science degree. That’s where he met Kharrazi. When Kharrazi had his … uh, car accident,” Nick tried to keep the satisfaction from his face, “Barzani took over. The thing is, he’s not as brash as Kharrazi, but he’s more progressive. He’s very tech savvy. He’ll keep his hands clean and let some of his underlings do the dirty work.”
“So this Barzani guy sets up camp here just to kill you?” Tommy asked.
Of course it was the perfect question to ask and if an eavesdropper were to listen to Tommy’s inquisitiveness they might mistake it for dumb curiosity. But Nick knew nothing could be further from the truth. Tommy might have dropped out of high school, but he could read a situation better than any Harvard psychology professor. It was one of Tommy’s true gifts. He’d been underestimated his whole life and loved every minute of it.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Nick said. “Why did he send his nephew to take a shot at me? If he was serious, he would’ve sent a true sniper.”
“This guy a religious fanatic?”
“No, these guys aren’t jihadists. They’re on a mission. There are over twenty million Kurds living in Turkey, Iran and Iraq. They’re the largest ethnic group in the world without a country. They want to declare a portion of Kurdistan a sovereign nation for Kurds.”
“So, what’s wrong with that?” Tommy jabbed his toothpick in between two molars.
“What’s wrong is Turkey asked for the U.N. to send troops to help subdue the KSF from ravaging villages. The Kurds want the U.S. to withdraw its troops so they can take control.”
Tommy sucked on his toothpick seemed to take it all in.
Nick turned to Matt and sighed. “I spoke with Trish Tanner.”
Matt’s lip curled into a disgusted look of anger. Dave Tanner was one of their teammates and they’d spent years chasing terrorists together. “How is she?”
Nick shook his head. “Not good. She was upset and spitting some creative words my way.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Matt. “She begged me to kill Barzani. She said, do it for Dave.”
“Who’s Dave?” Tommy asked.
“Dave Tanner,” Nick said. “You knew him, he was part of our team back in Baltimore. He was murdered last night.”
“Damn,” Tommy said. “They’re turning the table on you guys, making you the targets this time.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. He looked around the room at the rest of his current team and assessed their chances of catching Barzani. He needed help, but he didn’t know from where.
Nick looked at Matt. “You still have the password to the counterterrorist team’s file?”
Matt shook his head. “Not since we came here.”
“Shit,” Nick grumbled.
“Call Walt,” Matt said. “He’ll give it to you.”
Nick considered the idea when a voice came from the doorway. “Someone looking for me?”
A large, dark-skinned man stood with his arm around Julie, who beamed her delight at his presence. Walt Jackson strode into the room like a giant leopard, moving his six-foot-five frame with the elegance of an Olympic athlete. Which he was before he became the Special Agent in Charge of the Baltimore field office. He held a brown brief bag under his arm.
Julie said, “I found this man roaming the parking lot,” then she disappeared and closed the office door.
Matt was the first to greet Walt, first shaking his hand, then being pulled into a bear hug.
“Good to see you, Walt,” Matt said.
“Yeah, well I couldn’t exactly stand still while a couple of my old agents became targets.”
Nick moved around the desk now and Walt was careful to keep his greeting to a two-handed handshake, dropping his bag on the desk.
“How are you?” Walt asked, sincere as always.
“I’m fine,” Nick said, glancing at his shoulder. “A flesh wound is all.”
Walt frowned. “Yeah, right.”
Nick made some introductions, then directed Walt to the only chair which might hold his large frame-the chair behind Nick’s desk.
Walt sat down with a grunt. He had bags under his eyes. “Been traveling all day,” he said, stretching out his legs.
Tommy must’ve sensed a law enforcement meeting coming on as he edged toward the door.
Before he took a second step, Walt said, “Sit down, Tommy. I could use some of your help here.”
Tommy’s chest pumped out at the comment. He grabbed a folding chair to sit on, then resumed his toothpick routine.
“I hope you didn’t come all the way here just for me?’ Nick asked.
The sun momentarily hid behind a cloud while Walt looked down at his shoes. “You know about Dave, right?”
Nick nodded.
Walt said, “I don’t like the timing.” He reached over and grabbed his bag. He came out with an eight-by-ten glossy of Dave’s body. He handed it to Matt and watched his ex-partner grit his teeth.
When Nick got the photo, he wanted to hand it to Steele before he even looked it over. Dave appeared to be in an alley lying face down looking away from the camera. His neck was twisted at an odd angle as if he’d fallen on a rock. Steele took the picture and spent more time than Nick did before handing it to Tommy.
“Professional,” Tommy said.
“That’s right,” Walt said. “Two bullets to the back of the head.”
“He owe anyone any money?” Tommy asked.
Walt raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, actually he did. He was down heavy to a bookie in D.C. It made us wonder if that direction was a possibility.”
“How much?” Tommy asked.
“Five grand.”
“Uh uh,” Tommy said. “Not enough to get slammed like this.”
“Tell me,” Walt said.
Tommy leaned over to put the photo on the desk, then said, “There’s a ten grand rule in D.C. Everyone abides by it. Someone runs their debt up to nine grand and they stop playing or leave town. No one’s dumb enough to go over the limit.”
“Maybe he was dealing with someone who didn’t know the rules?”
Tommy waved his toothpick at Walt. “Nah. The street wouldn’t allow it. Too many steps to booking inside the beltway. The SEC practically regulates the damn thing.”
Walt smiled. “Thanks, Tommy.” He turned to Nick and made it a point to look at his shoulder as he spoke. “So like I was saying, I don’t like the timing.”
Nick stared out the window and thought about Dave Tanner’s wife and kids. For a brief moment he remembered that he himself had a child on the way, but he quickly brushed away the thought like a housefly.
“Any idea who did it?” Nick asked.
Walt leaned his head back. “That bothers me. We’ve practically had that scene scrubbed with a microscope and came up with nothing. No prints which matched anyone in the computer, no witnesses. Nothing.”
“Barzani paid a professional, no doubt,” Nick said.
“He’s the ultimate delegator,” Matt chimed in. “What about the rest of the team?”
Walt cocked his head, “Those three? You see them hiding in a safe house while the rest of the office goes after Dave’s killer?”
Matt shook his head.
“Exactly,” Walt said. Then he squirmed a bit trying to get comfortable. “I need to tell you, there’s credible evidence the KSF is attempting to detonate a bomb at LAX.”
“How credible?” Nick asked.
Walt seemed to understand the question. He shrugged. “It’s not strong, but it’s LAX and we can’t afford to be
