Uzi checked his watch. “They’re not afraid of dying, that’s for sure.”
“Except for the guys in charge,” Vail said. “They don’t want to die. They claim it’s because they need to stay alive to play quarterback and continue the cause. But everyone below them is expendable.”
The light on Uzi’s phone console lit up. He stabbed at the line button.
“He’s on,” Hoshi said. “I’m recording and running a trace.”
“Got it.” Uzi pressed the line button. “This is Agent … Shepard, special agent in charge of the FBI Joint Terrorism Task Force. Who am I talking with?”
“You’re talking with the people responsible for the explosion last night.” The voice was accented, confident — almost cocky.
“Do you have a name?”
“Tell me something, Agent Shepard. Does the FBI really think it was a gas main that blew up?”
“You know the answer to that question,” Uzi said.
“How many of these are you going to be able to explain away?”
“How many attacks are you planning?”
“Tell you what. Why don’t we help you out and go public on al Jazeera and then everyone will know you were hiding the fact you’re under attack.”
“I’m still waiting for your name. You know we’re going to find out sooner or later.”
“Then it will be later.”
Uzi glanced at Vail. It was a telling look letting her know she got it wrong. “What do you want?”
“You call us terrorists. So it’s obvious, isn’t it? We want terror. But that’s so simplistic. Here’s the truth: some of us want to kill the infidels. Some want revenge for how you treat and defile Islam. We don’t all agree on what we want — except for one thing: all of us want the Jews out of Palestine. We don’t want a two-state solution. We want it all, all the land. Jews will not be allowed to own even one square meter.”
Uzi shook his head, threw a quick glance at Vail and DeSantos. “And you think that suicide attacks in the US will help you, how?
“Some of us enjoy killing. And like I said, some want revenge. Me? I like seeing fear, I like seeing the mighty America crumbling, cowering in fear. Like on 9/11. When the towers fell, hundreds of thousands of my people danced in the streets.”
Scumbag. I look forward to meeting you someday. In a dark alley.
“I remember,” Uzi said. “I watched your celebration on TV.”
“And I want to see your talking heads shouting at one another on your stupid news channels. I want to create division in your country. But it’s not a fair fight. You’re all so brainwashed by your freedoms and democracy that you’ve got 300 million opinions, all convinced you’re right. Your political system is corrupt, bought by lobbyists.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a long list of things you don’t like about us.”
“What do I want, Agent Shepard of the FBI Joint Terrorism Task Force? I want to expose your country for what it is. I want to destroy your economy. I want to bring you to your knees.”
“How about we get together over a beer, talk this out?”
DeSantos and Vail looked at Uzi.
The man laughed. “That would make your job too easy.”
“No, seriously. We can meet at your safe house in southwest DC.”
There was silence.
“Listen to me, Kadir. Mind if I call you that? We both know how this is going to play out. You’re gonna set off some bombs, innocent people are gonna die, and you’ll celebrate for killing the nonbelievers. But then we’re gonna track you down and send a Hellfire missile crashing into your car. Or your house. So why don’t you and I meet and we can settle this, man to man?”
“‘Innocent people’? There are no innocent people in America. You are all infidels! And you’re going to die for your sins against Allah. You get fat earning your money, stuffing your faces, and flaunting your cars and houses. You’re comfortable moving about the streets without a worry. That’s going to end. You will be afraid. Afraid to go outside, afraid to be inside, not knowing when someone in your market will blow up, when someone in a movie theater will blow up. When a student in school is going to blow himself up, when someone in the subway is going to blow herself up. You call us terrorists. You’re right. Because if there’s one thing we know well, it’s how to terrorize. Remember that.”
The line went dead.
Uzi sat down heavily.
“That went exceedingly well,” Vail said.
Uzi’s head snapped up. “You think so?”
“No.”
DeSantos shrugged. “At least we know where we stand with him. He hates us.”
Vail rolled her eyes.
“I think it’s safe to say we’re dealing with Kadir Abu Sahmoud. He was shaken when I called him Kadir.”
“I’m going to inform Knox,” DeSantos said, pulling out his phone.
Uzi’s Lumia rang. He answered it, listened a moment, and said, “Thank you. I appreciate it … No, I’m not surprised.” Uzi laid it on the desk and sat down heavily. “That was Gideon Aksel. Positive confirmation on the voiceprint. It’s Sahmoud. Don’t know yet about the other person on the call.” Uzi sighed, then said, “Do you think I shouldn’t have revealed that we know who he is?”
Vail took a seat opposite Uzi. “I can make a case for handling it both ways. Obviously there are more risks in telling him we know his identity. But there are so many variables in this thing that I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer. If he’s a psychopath, it won’t freak him out. It may’ve surprised him, but he recovered quickly. A guy like that, you might try to build him up next time, tell him how great he is, how impressed with him you are, how he’s been able to set up these cells without our knowledge. Make it real or he’ll see through it. He might bite. It’ll feed his ego and he’ll eventually make a mistake. Can’t guarantee it’d work, but you never know.”
DeSantos’s phone vibrated and he consulted the display. “Knox is on his way over.”
“Bottom line,” Vail continued, “is that the more we engage him, the more conversations we have with him, the better. We might be able to pull some forensics from something he says, a background noise. It’s better than not having any contact with him at all. You’ve started a relationship with him. That’s a positive.”
Hoshi knocked, then pushed the door open.
“You get anything?” Uzi asked.
“He used cloud bouncing.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Vail looked at Uzi, then DeSantos, who shrugged. “Cloud bouncing?”
“There are services that route calls and internet to other clouds, removing identity and routing randomly. It’s the latest in obfuscation. Good for baddies, bad for goodies.”
“So, in English,” Vail said, “the trace didn’t work.”
“Come in, Hoshi.” Uzi gestured at the door. “And close it.”
It clicked shut. Hoshi scanned their faces, shoulders tense. “What’s going on?”
“There are some things I can’t tell you. You’re just going to have to trust me. Are you okay with that?”
“Did you seriously just ask me if I trust you?”
“Fair enough.” Uzi reached into his drawer and pulled out a toothpick, studied it a second and then popped it between his lips. “You heard the phone call so you have an idea of who I was talking to and what’s going on. This involves the explosion last night — which I know you already figured out.”
“Thanks for giving me some credit.”
“Kadir Abu Sahmoud is mixed up in this. As you heard, he’s planning attacks on the country.”