for both arming and detonating.
Having played the IED game extensively in Iraq, Bakr understood that these features would defeat the average countermeasure employed against radio-controlled improvised explosive devices. Known as a “jammer,” the countermeasure basically broadcast a louder signal than the IED transmitter, preventing the receiver from getting the command to detonate, thus “jamming” it. A simple concept, it was analogous to a person listening to a radio station in the middle of nowhere. One second, the channel’s putting out country music, the next Gothic rock, as the radio itself relayed whichever signal was strongest. The IED jammer worked the same way. It blasted out huge amounts of white noise on the transmitter’s frequency, preventing the receiver from hearing the command to detonate.
The channel-hopping feature on Juka’s device meant that the transmitter and receiver, synchronized together, frenetically hopped frequencies from the moment it was turned on, never transmitting on the same frequency for more than a millisecond. This ensured that the average jammer wouldn’t be able to defeat it, as it wouldn’t be able to sufficiently track which frequency the detonator was using, and thus couldn’t override the signal. The second feature, the separate signals used for arming and detonation, meant that the weapon wouldn’t be inadvertently set off by someone opening his garage or playing with a remote-controlled airplane. In order for the device to explode, it would take one signal, linked to a security code, to arm the bomb, and another, also linked to a code, to detonate it.
Juka had placed the detonator reverently in Bakr’s hands, beginning to fidget once he realized that he had given it away. He made Bakr promise that he would save it for use on a special target, using all of the other mundane detonators he would find in the Sarajevo safe house for everyday terrorist attacks.
Opening the door to his hotel room, Bakr grinned at the memory. Yes, he would save this detonator for a special occasion. The perfect occasion. Placing the detonator on the nightstand, he went to the Internet cafe to check on the meeting with Walid.
Opening the latest message, it appeared that Sayyidd had done everything he had asked, and more, giving him a little guilt over his previous thoughts about his partner. He was a little concerned by the lack of e-mail contact in the next twenty-four hours, but seeing that this e-mail had arrived within the last hour, he was sure Sayyidd would check his account one more time before leaving, and reply. He typed a quick response, describing his successful meeting with Juka. He hit send, finally beginning to accept that everything was working out.
83
Jennifer asked again, “Where is he?”
I ran to the window, the broken glass crackling under my feet like popcorn.
“He jumped out the fucking window.”
“He jumped? Are you sure he—”
“No, I didn’t throw him out. As much as I would have liked to, I’d have to be the Incredible Hulk to chuck his ass out the window from across the room.”
I saw a crowd gathering around the broken body, most looking down, but some looking up at my location, the drapes swinging gently in the breeze providing an instant point of reference. I snapped my head back before they saw me.
“We have about one minute before we’ll be asked a lot of questions. Start packing up his stuff. We’ll look at it back in the hotel.”
“What about the other guy? What are we going to do about him?”
“I think he’s here alone. There’s no evidence of another person, no additional luggage, toothbrush, nothing.”
Stuffing passports and any other paper I could find into my backpack, I said again, “Come on, pack that computer up. We need to move.”
When I didn’t notice any movement, I said, “What’s up? We have
“An e-mail just came in, from a different Yahoo! account. He’s still logged on and connected to the Internet.”
“Close it all up,” I said. “Don’t turn anything off, just close it up for travel. Maybe we can duplicate it at our hotel, but we don’t have time to mess with it now.”
Finishing up, I held the door open for Jennifer. Just prior to letting it close forever, she grabbed my arm.
“Wait.” She ran to the nightstand and grabbed a thumb drive. Holding it up, she said, “No telling what’s on this thing.”
“Good catch. That’s probably got their whole diabolical plan.”
She squinted like she was debating on whether to kick me in the nuts. Before she got the chance, I left the room. Once outside I turned left, choosing the opposite stairwell to the one by which we had arrived. We exited out the back, but were forced to walk through all the gawkers on the east side of the hotel to get to our vehicle. The smashed body hadn’t been moved, appearing just as it had when I’d looked out the window minutes before. We pretended to be just as shocked as everyone else until we were clear of the crowds and could sprint to our car. Fifteen minutes later we were back in our hotel room.
I set the laptop on the coffee table and brought it out of sleep mode. The last e-mail was still on the screen.
“Toss me that thumb drive.”
Putting it in the computer, I saw it was empty.
“The thumb drive had nothing on it. Here’s the last e-mail that was on the screen, along with the header. Can you send this to the Taskforce? Kurt said he’d have analysts standing by. Time for them to earn their pay.”
“Sure. You think they’ll be able to get anything out of this?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to try to get back into the Yahoo! server and get all his e-mails before his password times out.”
She sent the e-mail, then asked me, “What was that Web site that did the magic stuff?”
“What is my IP address dot com. You remember how to use it?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’ll let you know if I get stuck.”
I was pulling up the wireless toolbar on the terrorist’s computer, attempting to get online, when Jennifer said, “The other guy, if that’s who sent the e-mail, is in Tuzla, Bosnia-Herzegovina. Does that make any sense?”
“Yeah, actually it does. That’s where all the muj went to during the Bosnian war. He’s probably got some contacts there.”
I tried to connect to the hotel wireless network but failed, being told it was “in use.” “Will this hotel network handle two computers with the same password at the same time?”
She was staring at our computer and gave me an absentminded answer. “I don’t know.”
“His damn password is going to time out. We’re going to lose the messages. Get off the Internet and let me go.”
“Wait. I’m getting a message. Don’t cut it yet. Why don’t you try using the Ethernet cable? That’s not tied to the wireless.”
I felt the press of time and was about to rip her computer out of the wall when what she’d said rooted home.
“It looks like that last message was from the other terrorist. He’s found some explosive material and is ready to meet the first guy — I guess the guy that jumped out the window.”
I continued messing with the other computer, only half listening to what she said.
“He’s ready to build the bomb, and the window-jumper here in Oslo has some connection who can get them into Israel. The guy in Tuzla is thanking him for the work.”
