Ted Nash laughed. I was beginning to like this guy. In this milieu, we had more in common with each other than we had in common with the nice and neat people in this building. There's a depressing thought.
Bob asked us, 'Any questions?'
I asked, 'Where do the X-Files people hang out?'
Koenig said, 'Stow it, Corey.'
'Yes, sir.'
Anyway, it was nearly 6:00 P.M., and I figured we were through since we weren't told to bring toothbrushes. But no, we all moved to a big conference room with a table the length of a football field.
About thirty people drifted in, most of whom we'd already met today at various stations of the cross.
The Deputy Director of Counterterrorism made an appearance, gave a five-minute sermon, then ascended to heaven or somewhere.
We spent almost two hours in conference, mostly rehashing the ten-hour day, exchanging gold nuggets, and coming up with a plan of attack, and so forth.
Each of us got a thick dossier containing photos, contact names and numbers, and even recaps of what was said today, which must have been tape-recorded, transcribed, edited, and typed as the day progressed. Truly, this was a world-class organization.
Kate was kind enough to put all my papers in her attache case, which now bulged. She advised me, 'Always bring an attache case. There are always handouts.' She added, 'An attache case is a tax-deductible item.'
The big conference ended, and everyone filed out into the corridor. We did a little chitchat here and there, but basically it was over. I could almost smell the air on Pennsylvania Avenue. Car, airport, 9:00 P.M. shuttle, 10:00 P.M. at La Guardia, home before the 11 o'clock news. I remembered some leftover Chinese food in the fridge and tried to determine how old it was.
Just then, a guy in a blue suit named Bob or Bill came up to us and asked if we'd like to follow him and go to see the Deputy Director.
This was the proverbial straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, and I replied, 'No.'
But 'no' wasn't an option.
The good news was that Ted Nash was not invited into the inner sanctum, but he didn't seem put off, He said, 'I have to get to Langley tonight.'
We all hugged, promised to write and stay in touch, and blew kisses as we parted. With any luck, I'd never see Ted Nash again.
So, Jack, Kate, and I with our escort got on the elevator and went up to the seventh floor and were shown into a dark, paneled office with a big desk, behind which was the Deputy Director of Counterterrorist operations.
The sun was gone from the heavens, and the room was lit by a single green-shaded lamp on the Deputy Director's desk. The effect of the dim lighting at waist level was that no one could see anyone's face clearly. This was really dramatic, like a scene in a Mafia flick where don Goombah decides who gets whacked.
Anyway, we shook hands all around-hands were easy to find near the lamp-then we sat.
The Deputy Director went through a little spiel about yesterday and today, then got to tomorrow. He was brief. He said, 'The ATTF in New York metro is in a unique position to work this case. We won't interfere, and we won't send you anyone you don't ask for. At least for now. This department will, of course, take on the responsibility for everything outside of your operational area. We'll keep you well informed on anything that turns up. We'll try to work closely with the CIA, and we'll brief you on that as well. I suggest you proceed as though Khalil is still in New York. Turn the place upside down and inside out. Lean heavily on your sources and offer money when you need to. I'll authorize a budget of one hundred thousand dollars for buying information. The Justice Department will offer a one-million-dollar reward for the arrest of Asad Khalil. That should put some heat on him vis-a-vis his compatriots in the U.S. Questions?'
Jack said, 'No, sir.'
'Good. Oh, and one more thing.' He looked at me, then at Kate. He said, 'Think about how you might lure Asad Khalil into a trap.'
I replied, 'You mean think about me using myself as bait.'
'I didn't say that. I just said think of the best way to lure Asad Khalil into a trap. Whatever the best way is, you'll think of it.'
Kate said, 'John and I will talk it over.'
'Good.' He stood. 'Thank you for giving up your Sunday.' He added, 'Jack, I'd like to speak to you a moment.'
We pressed the flesh again, and Kate and I were out. We were escorted to the elevator by the guy in the blue suit, and he wished us good luck and good hunting.
In the lobby, we were met by a security guy, who invited us to sit. Kate and I sat, but said nothing.
I didn't know or care what Jack and the Deputy Director were talking about, as long as it wasn't me-and I was certain they had more important things to discuss than me or my behavior. Actually, I wasn't that bad today, and I had a few gold stars for almost saving the game yesterday. But that only goes so far.
I looked at Kate, and she looked at me. Here, in the Ministry of Love, even face crimes were noted, so we didn't reveal anything except steadfast optimism. I didn't even look at her crossed legs.
Ten minutes later Jack appeared and informed us, 'I'm staying the night. You two go on, and I'll see you tomorrow.' He added, 'Brief George in the morning. I'll assemble all the teams tomorrow at some point, and we'll get everyone up-to-date, and see if they've turned up any leads, then we'll decide how to proceed.'
Kate said, 'John and I will stop at Federal Plaza tonight and see what's happening.'
What?
'Good,' Jack said. 'But don't burn out. This will be a long race, and as Mr. Corey says, 'Second place is the first loser.'' He looked at us and pronounced, 'You both did very well today.' He said to me, 'I hope you have a better appreciation of the FBI.'
'Absolutely. Great bunch of guys and girls. Women. I'm not sure about Ben, though.'
'Ben is fine,' Jack said. 'It's Ted you should keep an eye on.'
My goodness.
So, we all shook hands and off we went, Kate and I with the security guy down into the basement garage, where a car whisked us to the airport.
In the car, I asked, 'How did I do?'
'Borderline.'
'I thought I did fine.'
'That's scary.'
'I'm trying.'
'You're very trying.'
CHAPTER 33
Asad Khalil saw a sign that said WELCOME TO SOUTH CAROLINA-THE PALMETTO STATE.
He didn't understand what that last line meant, but he understood the next sign that said DRIVE CAREFULLY- STATE LAWS STRICTLY ENFORCED.
He looked at his dashboard and saw that it was 4:10 P.M. The temperature remained at 2 5 degrees Celsius.
Forty minutes later, he saw the exits for Florence and for I-20 to Columbia and Atlanta. He had memorized parts of a road map of the South, so that he could give false but plausible destinations for anyone who asked. Now that he was passing the Interstate highway for Columbia and Atlanta, his next false destination would be Charleston or Savannah.
In any case, he had a good road map in the glove box, and he had the Satellite Navigator, if he needed to refresh his memory.
Khalil noticed that the traffic was heavier around this city of Florence, and he welcomed the other vehicles after so many miles of feeling exposed.
