The biggest break came from the "anonymous" tip that led to the successful capture of the missing terrorist cell. Four virus canisters had been recovered from a cooler in one of the bedrooms. From what Homeland's bioweapons team could tell, each of the canisters appeared to contain their original payload. Removing four canisters from terrorist hands signified a major win for Task Force Scorpion; however, fifty canisters still remained at large, which was not a comforting thought. Sharpe figured he'd better have someone make the Marriott arrangements immediately. They had just scratched the surface of this investigation.
He could feel Callie Stewart's eyes following him as he worked his way through the last few stations. So far, she had proved to be unobtrusive, simply observing the action from her perch. He had expected her to frequently descend the stairs to share her thoughts, but she only seemed interested in pestering him with text messages about putting undercover agents in the mosque. Those messages had mercifully stopped after the Imam's spectacular escape.
Callie Stewart watched Special Agent Sharpe disappear under the catwalk. She was a little nervous about what General Sanderson wanted her to do. Sharpe might arrest her on the spot, though he had no real charges to levy against her, or he might simply ban her from NCTC. Either option would render her mission incapable. Even if she were to convince him to follow Sanderson's plan, he might change his mind at any moment and exercise his options to have her removed.
Her boss felt confident that Sharpe would bite at the proposal. This wouldn't be Sharpe's first walk into the gray area. He'd taken a step out onto that ledge earlier tonight, when he had authorized Agent Riehms to enter the mosque. Sanderson had assured her that the FBI agent had other skeletons hidden in his closet and fed her the lines she would need to sway Sharpe. He expected her to improvise the rest to earn her exorbitant fee for this job.
She made her way down the stairs, drawing a few stares from both NCTC and task force personnel. She could sense a combination of enmity and pure attraction. She locked eyes with Special Agent Mendoza and flicked her head, hoping he would understand this subtle gesture. She needed him in the room with Sharpe when she made her proposal. If Sharpe went along with it, she needed Mendoza's approval to seal the deal among the rest of the task force. A one-on-one meeting would raise too many suspicions, especially with Special Agent O'Reilly.
Sanderson's cyber team had already defeated several attempts by O'Reilly to electronically eavesdrop on her office. She didn't blame the agent for her suspicion and anger. Sanderson's operatives had severely wounded three agents assigned to Sharpe two years ago, including O'Reilly. She had spent several weeks in recovery, trying to regain full use of her left arm. A 5.56mm bullet had separated the forearm muscle from the bone. From her perch on the catwalk, she could clearly see that O'Reilly had not fully recovered; she frequently removed her left hand from the keyboard, continuing only with her right hand while she gave the left forearm a break.
Stewart reached Sharpe's door, which was open, and knocked on the frame. Agent Mendoza closed in on her from behind.
"Come in," Sharpe said, without looking up.
She stepped inside his office, and when he finally lifted his head, she could tell that he wished it were possible to rescind the invitation. Agent Mendoza squeezed by her without any sort of pleasantry and stood near the left front corner of Sharpe's desk. Mendoza swept his right hand back slightly, clearing enough of his jacket to ensure quick, smooth access to his service pistol.
"How may I help you, Ms. Stewart?" Sharpe asked.
"May I close the door? You can keep the windows transparent, so O'Reilly doesn't get too worried," she said.
"Sure," Sharpe conceded.
Once the door was shut, she wasted no time getting to the point.
"Now that you've more or less neutralized the Al Qaeda side of the threat, we need to focus on the real problem. True America…"
"We? The task force is doing just fine without your help. We'll let you know when Congress, the Department of Justice, the Supreme Court and the president have authorized us to ignore the laws of the land, thereby approving the methods your organization might employ. If that's all, I'm a little busy processing all of our new leads."
"No word on the warrants from Justice?" she prodded.
"I don't need the warrants anymore. The mosque is a federal crime scene."
"That's right. The Imam was abducted," she said flatly.
"We found three bodies inside the mosque. Arabs. Turns out one of them was on the watch list with ties to known Al Qaeda operatives in Europe."
"But you found them after you conspired with Agent Riehms to classify the Imam's departure as an abduction."
"Agent Riehms applied sixteen years of FBI experience to reach that conclusion. I trust her judgment."
"Especially since it allowed you access to the mosque you've been begging Justice to let you enter. And I'm sure Agent Riehms had every reason to make a sound, objective assessment, given the fact that she just lost the primary focus of the task force's investigation. Put the two together, and it sounds like a compelling reason to break a few rules."
"That's your interpretation," Sharpe said.
"Let's just hope it stays that way."
Sharpe simply stared at her, shaking his head. "I'm really not worried about it."
"Which is exactly why you need to hear what I'm proposing, Agent Sharpe. You've made some gains stepping over the line, but you'll have to do it again to break into True America. We need to start working our way up their human network; capture personnel on the ground. Right now, all you have is a tenuous link to True America with Julius Grimes. He's disappeared, and I can guarantee that you'll never see him again."
"The Imam made contact with True America at some point to coordinate the specifics of the delivery to Harrisburg. It looks like Al Qaeda was keeping their end of the bargain, so there's bound to be more. I guarantee we'll find something at the mosque or in his apartment that will give us the jumpstart we need," Sharpe said.
"You won't. Our people have scoured his computer and the mosque. There's nothing useful in his apartment either. And Al Qaeda had no intention of keeping their end of the bargain. I can give you an address in Middletown, Pennsylvania, that contains five decomposing Middle Eastern men. This was the hit squad assigned by Al Qaeda to recover the Harrisburg delivery. Both of these organizations were running a double cross from the start," Stewart said.
"Really? And exactly how do you know this?" Mendoza interjected.
"Because we have the Imam."
Agent Sharpe rose swiftly, and for a brief moment, Stewart thought she might have to physically defend herself. Mendoza's hand flashed to his gun, pulling it three quarters of the way out of its holster.
"You're in way over your head here, Ms. Stewart. I hope you're fucking with me right now because if you aren't…I'll have your ass dragged off in handcuffs."
"Sanderson wants to use the Imam to draw True America into the open. Whether you arrest me or not, the Imam will start placing calls this morning to his True America contacts," she said.
"He'll never be able to convince them to come out of hiding. True America is done with Al Qaeda."
"Maybe. According to the Imam, True America tipped him off about the FBI raids," Stewart said.
"This morning's raid?" Mendoza said.
"No. He claims to have received a call at about 3:30 in the morning, on the night that most of his teams were hit by True America. He was told to go into hiding at the mosque, where the FBI couldn't touch him," Stewart said.