Everyone looked at Marcus as if he had just popped out of a rabbit hole wearing the Mad Hatter’s top hat.
Caufield crunched his eyebrows and simply said, “Explain.”
“It is Farsi script, like I said, but the words are English. He just wrote phonetically in the Persian alphabet, but it is definitely English.” He scanned over the sheet slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he studied it.
“What does it say?” Tomer asked.
Caufield and the others looked back at the paper, squinting as if they thought that by looking at it with enough concentration, they might see the pattern emerge before their eyes.
“It’s an excerpt from The Cremation of Sam McGee, the old Robert Service poem from a hundred years ago. Except it has been significantly changed.”
Marcus read the poem with the pace and rhythm of the original on which it was based.
Marcus said, then continued reading.
“Jeez,” Tomer said, “whoever wrote that needs psychiatric help.”
One of the other agents slowly shook his head and said, “Obviously it’s a threat from one of the terrorists.”
“No,” Marcus said.
“What do you mean?” Caufield asked.
“Kharzai,” Marcus replied. “If I didn’t know he was in town, I’d think the same as you. But knowing he’s here, there is no doubt in my mind it’s his message. And it’s not a threat. It’s a statement. One you should take seriously. He is one of the most dangerous men I've ever met.”
“Marcus is right,” Hilde said as she returned to the room. “That was Under Secretary Hogan. He just got a communique from the CIA confirming that Kharzai Ghiassi disappeared from their radar several months ago. They said his wife was killed in an airstrike in Pakistan. He blames his CIA handlers and may be out to take revenge.”
“He knew we would be coming here,” Marcus said. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left the note.”
“The president is going to be here in the morning,” Caufield said. “Tomer, call your Secret Service girlfriend and suggest they cancel the trip.”
“Yes, sir,” Tomer said with a stutter, his face reddening as the other agents suppressed snickers. “Sir, Tonia’s not my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, right. Whatever you say. I couldn’t care less about your love life. Get it done.”
Chapter 25
Tonia Roberts hung up the call to her field headquarters chief, pulled Tomer's contact information up in her cell phone, and pressed the call button. He answered on the first ring.
“They ain’t doing it,” she said with a matter-of-fact grunt.
“Why not?” Tomer asked. “We have credible evidence that this guy is flippin’ nuts and hell-bent to kill someone.”
“It's not a direct statement of intent. With no specific threat against Eagle One, they won’t call it off. There are too many other leaders coming in for them to shut it down.”
“From what Farris and Johnson said, this Kharzai guy is some kind of death-dealing super spy or something,” Tomer said. “He's like Darth Vader and Jet Li rolled into one. And we don't have a Luke Skywalker or a Jackie Chan to stop him. Hell, from the sound of the guy, even Chuck Norris might get his ass kicked, if that were possible.”
“We better find some way to get him, honey,” Roberts said, “because they ain’t stopping the show.”
“Are they at least sending extra security?”
“Hell, they ain’t even going to tell the foreign visitors. They don’t want to scare them. They’ll just post a few extra snipers and maybe put a couple choppers in the air — otherwise, ain’t no change to the plans.”
“Where are you going to be during the event tomorrow?” Tomer asked.
“Me and Lurch are going to be on crowd patrol. You?”
“I’ll be doing the same thing.”
“I’ll give you a Secret Service radio so you can monitor our channel at the same time as your own.”
“Good. Maybe we can hook up a few times during the event.”
“Tony!” Tonia feigned offense. “That sounds like sexual harassment!”
“I…didn’t mean….” Tomer stammered.
“After Eagle is gone,” Tonia added, “you can harass me all you want. I’ve got the whole next week on leave.”
She could practically hear Tomer’s pulse accelerate on the other end through the phone's earpiece.
“Oh, my. You are certainly frisky, Miss Ro… ” Tomer's voice suddenly cut off.
In the background, she heard a door open and a distant voice say something to Tomer.
He cleared his throat. “I will certainly take your suggestion into consideration and will be sure to accommodate all aspects of the operation.”
“What?” Tonia asked, her face twisting with sudden smirk as she realized Tomer’s predicament.
“Agent Caufield just came back in. I’ll let him know what you said. Uh, about the president, that is.”
“All right, you big stud,” she said, taunting him. “Tomorrow we protect the big guy, and then the next day, you’re in danger. Get your lips ready for some serious non-regulation physical training.”
“Yes, ma’am, I'll be sure to be…uh…ready for anything.” Tony could barely keep his voice steady. “Thank you, Agent Roberts.”
Tonia clicked off the phone. Warner walked up behind her and grunted an announcement of his presence. Tonia jumped in surprise.
“Don’t do that!”
“Do what?”
“Eavesdrop on me.”
“I just came in. I didn’t hear anything you and Tomer were talking about, thank God.”
Her eyes widened. “Then how did you know it was Tony?”
“He’s the only guy I’ve heard you use your ‘super silky’ voice with except when you use it on suspects during interrogations.”
Tonia’s face blushed a deep purple. “Super silky?”
“Subconscious, I am sure,” Warner replied. “I have no clue what you two see in each other, but you obviously see something.”