Melanie allowed him to change the subject. She filled him in on how the family was doing and made sure he got to talk to both of the boys. Neither one of them wanted to hang up.
“Mel, I gotta go. I don’t want to, but I have to go.”
“Be careful you big lug. I want you back in one piece.”
“I will. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jazz.”
After hanging up, Melanie realized that she did not really tell him how angry she was. She wondered how long she could handle this new life.
Plowing through email messages was the bane of Elena’s Monday morning existence. One message forwarded from Thompson caught her attention. The subject line read, “FWD: Improvised Explosive Device (IED) “Factory” discovered in Tirane, Albania.”
She opened the message.
From: Thompson
To: Cruz
Subject: FWD: Improvised Explosive Device (IED) “Factory” discovered in Tirane, Albania.
Elena,
Read attached message. See me regarding our suspect.
R/ Cam
p. s. If you screw this up, I’ll kill you.
From: pucharelli
To: tanagier
Subject: Improvised Explosive Device (IED) “Factory” discovered in Tirane, Albania.
Boss,
An IED factory was discovered in Tirane, Albania by an Air Force EOD Team deployed there as part of the military response to the Kosovo crisis. The factory was hidden in the back of a former Albanian Army magazine.
AF EOD reported their findings to the local OSI contingent. OSI conducted an initial investigation and drafted a report. EOD sent photos to TECHDIV. OSI and EOD determined that the explosives were stable and could remain in place until its investigators were dispatched to gather forensic evidence.
OSI’s report came across my desk yesterday.
OSI man called in, as I was knee deep into his report. A second EOD team observed the factory and said that it mirrored a factory they saw INCONUS. I pulled up FBI Bulletin on San Patricio incident handled by San Antonio office.
Second team consisted of Lieutenant James J. Jascinski, BM1 John Ashland, and BM2 Theodore Ball.
Rome office worked with this group only weeks ago on SECSTATE debacle. Odd coincidence.
Draft of formal report attached.
V/R
Pooch
Attch: iedtiralbinirpt.doc
The clock on the wall with “Rome” written under it could be seen from her desk. The hands told her that it was 3:00pm there. She clicked on Pucharelli’s name and a box opened up with all of his amplifying information down to his badge number. Elena dialed the number.
“Pooch”
“Agent Pucharelli?”
“Hell-o, and who may I ask who this is?” Pucharelli said flirtatiously.
“This is Special Agent Cruz from San Antonio.”
“Doh! Sorry, I uh…”
Elena possessed an advantage already.
“I saw your email about the IED factory in Albania. I did the job in San Patricio. Do you mind if I ask some questions?”
“Sure. What ya got?”
“It is about Jascinski.”
“Who?”
“The Navy lieutenant.”
“The EOD officer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Elena imagined Pucharelli furrowing his brow over the phone.
“He may be our man.”
“Are you kidding me? Just because he was at the scene of an IED incident? Then a bomb factory? To be honest, one probably led to the other. We are in Europe remember, there are not that many EOD Techs to go around in the first place. The fact that a guy shows up on two incidents that may or may not be related does not make him a suspect.”
“May be related?”
“We do not know for sure. I’ve not put eyes on in Tirane yet. I’ll have more information after we get forensics back.”
“What do you think?”
“Without seeing the place my gut tells me the bomb that got SECSTATE and De Luca were made in this factory. At the very least the guys that made the device in Rome are connected to the guys in Albania. And by the way, the only way we connected them so quickly was because of Jascinski. Until he saw the factory, OSI thought it belonged to a local Albanian Mafia group.”
Pucharelli paused to let that sink in.
Elena kicked her heels off and sat back in her chair. She tapped her pen on her lips thinking.
“Still think he is your man?”
“Maybe not, but I’m still curious. How did he find out about the factory? Did he ask questions, or was it shown to him?”
A heavy sigh was audible through the receiver.
“I see what you are driving at. Did he inquire about it? To be honest, I don’t know. I will ask the OSI guy, Henderson. Listen, Cruz, I know you want to look at everything, but I think you’re grasping at straws.”
“Noted. Ask OSI and get back to me please,” she said.
“You got it.”
The last of her emails were now deleted. Elena sipped her coffee again and looked at the second report from the Kilkenney’s surveillance team. It was sealed in an envelope. Elena did not have to open it; she already knew that it said nothing of importance. Melanie Jascinski and her children were not among her suspects. The wife would undoubtedly know if her husband was involved in something sinister, but she would likely never tell.
Still, it was possible that a phone call, an email, or a visitor related to the events surrounding his investigation would show up.
The important thing was that now she felt better, she felt like she was doing something and was able to focus. More importantly she no longer struggled with any guilt around the fact that there was a monitoring post tracking the Jascinskis. In fact she was sleeping better at night.
Just as Frances said, she told herself. If it reveals nothing, nobody gets hurt.
So Lieutenant James J. Jascinski no longer distracted Special Agent Elena Cruz and she was able to think about other aspects of the case. From this morning her new tactic was reviewing as much information as possible from Pucharelli’s case in Rome and the incident in Albania. She would start by looking at the photos and the report of OSI on the magazines in Tirane.
Out of habit and without speaking, the two men sat on the floor. This brought them an old familiar feeling. It was solidified by a pot of hot tea.
Nasih looked at his friend and wondered if he aged as much. They certainly came a long way in twenty years.
They moved around the world, struggling for their beliefs. They were no less passionate now than a decade before, but their speed was measured. There were few of their era left. Many had died in Libya, Lebanon, Sudan, Somalia, Afghanistan, and now the Balkans.
“Here are the photos,” said Ayman laying them out on the floor.
Two mugs of hot tea were consumed before another word was spoken.
“Who are these men?”
“The soldiers are engineers or disposaleers. The civilian in the vest is CIA, FBI, or maybe OSI. We are not sure. He seemed to be in charge of their inquiry.”
“Ah, and the men in the second set of photographs?”
“Soldiers, the same ones from before I think.”
“Look closely my friend. These men are outfitted differently. The weapons have collapsible stocks. That is a telltale sign of U.S. Special Forces. Look at their hats; those men are Marines or U.S. Navy. Many of the helicopters we have seen are U.S. Navy. Guido even had a few flights in one of them.”
“Well then they must be sailors, but I do not see the significance.”
“I do. In fact, I see much significance.”
How ironic, he thought.