He again looked down at the table. “This has nothing to do with my daughter.”
“I’m asking you to spare the life of my son. I would do the same for your daughter. Just tell me where the dirty bomb is being deployed, what city. I understand you don’t know when it’s going to be set off. But if I know it’s going to be in DC, I’ll send my son to friends of his in New York City.”
Ghazal’s eyes rose from the table and met Vail’s stare. “That would not be a good idea.” He held her gaze.
Vail could not help but swallow deeply.
Holy shit, he just confirmed my suspicions about the dirty bomb and where it’s going to be launched.
She refocused. “Thank you. As a parent. I—” She allowed some tears to flow into her eyes. “I thank you for your decency. Is there anything else you can tell me about the dirty bomb? How powerful is it?”
“I told you enough. That question has nothing to do with the safety of your son.”
Vail licked her bottom lip. “Fair enough. Are you planning any more attacks here in DC?”
“The odds are in your son’s favor. We should leave it at that.”
“So no more suicide bombings are planned for DC.”
Ghazal shrugged.
What the hell did that mean? Asked and answered? Or, “You said that, not me.”
“Because we’ve captured your cache of explosives?”
He snorted, a contemptuous outburst. “That will not stop us. I think you are smart enough to figure out why.”
Yeah, I guess I am. They’ve got other stashes. Or ways of getting more without us knowing.
“Where are your smuggling tunnels located?”
He kinked his head to the side, a look that said, “Did you really think I’d answer that?”
A knock at the door nearly made her jump.
Vail got up from her seat and walked into the corridor. Uzi was there alongside one of the large men she had seen when they first arrived. Uzi led her into a room across the hall.
As the door clicked closed, DeSantos turned away from the wall of monitors, which showed high resolution color images of Ghazal’s face and body from multiple angles. She had only seen two cameras, but apparently there were more embedded in the walls and table. Another screen, where Rodman sat, showed the man’s blood pressure and heart rate. Impressive.
“Nice work in there,” DeSantos said.
“Have you notified the JTTF in Manhattan?”
“I called my contact at the National Counterterrorism Center,” Uzi said. “But there’s not much to go on.”
DeSantos glanced back at the monitors. “We’re not really sure what we’ve got. They weren’t direct admissions.”
Vail felt blood rushing to her face. “What are you talking about? He has no motivation to feed us bullshit. He’s not giving us locations. He’s not telling us when. He was responding to indirect questions, on a level jihadists aren’t used to — his defenses are lower. He’s talking to a woman in a position of power — which he probably isn’t used to, either. I took him out of his element, which, again, is going to lower his defenses. I think on the scale of reliable intel, what he told us is pretty damn good.”
Uzi scratched at his temple. “I can’t disagree.”
“In terms of his body language,” DeSantos said, “I think you’re right.”
Rodman touched the monitor in front of him. “Same here with BP and heart rate.”
“But,” Uzi said, “is that enough? How actionable is the intel?”
Vail rubbed her forehead. “I need some air.” She walked outside, finding her way through the maze, and out the front door. The cold air prickled her cheeks and she took a deep breath, filling her lungs.
They’re planning to set off a dirty bomb in New York City. Jesus Christ.
Vail pulled out her Samsung and stared at it. Don’t do this, Karen. Let JTTF do its thing. But without actual proof or verification, will the task force act on it? What if Ghazal was bullshitting me?
No. It felt legit. Go with your instincts.
She dialed and waited for it to connect.
Carmine Russo answered on the second ring. “You know, when I told you not to be a stranger, I didn’t mean you should call me so soon.”
“This isn’t a social call.” Her tone was serious — but then again, this was a serious matter. Russo had been Vail’s mentor going back to her early days in law enforcement. Now a captain with the NYPD, she thought he needed to be plugged in.
“Uh oh. What’s up? And if you tell me we’ve got another serial killer in New Yor—”
“We’ve got a situation. This isn’t really in your wheelhouse, but I want to make sure the information makes it to the department ASAP, without delay.”
“What information?”
“Did you hear about the gas main explosion in DC last night?”
“No. Why would I hear about that? Any casualties?”
“None you would’ve heard about.”
“Huh?”
“The explosion you didn’t hear about was a terrorist cell of al Humat that had set up a bomb-making factory in downtown DC. We stumbled on one of the bomb makers, I shot him and inadvertently set off his vest. An undercover FBI agent was killed before I got there. We ascertained the location of their safe house, arrested one and at least two got away. Today they set off a suicide bomb in Metro Center.”
“I got a text about that,” Russo said. “Maybe half an hour ago. No known cause yet.”
“Bullshit. It was a terrorist attack. We grabbed up one of the planners, who’s got a history of other bombings overseas.”
“Fuck.”
“Haven’t gotten to the good part yet.”
“There’s a good part?”
“We have reason to believe they’re going to set off a dirty bomb in Manhattan.”
There was silence, then Russo said, “Still waiting for the good part.”
“The good part is that we’ve got some advance notice. And also that I’m giving you a heads-up instead of waiting for the FBI to run it through their National Joint Terrorism Task Force at the National Counterterrorism Center, who’ll send it on to their New York JTTF, who’ll then run it up the ladder to 1PP,” she said, referring to the brass at One Police Plaza — NYPD headquarters.
“Where’s the attack going to be?”
“No idea.”
“When?”
“No idea.”
“And this is the good news?”
“No, Russo, it’s awful news. Whisper in your buddy’s ear at the Counterterrorism Unit. Tell him to turn up those sensors you’ve got, that domain awareness system.” A comprehensive security apparatus, the domain awareness system consisted of security cameras deployed around the city in coordination with radiological sensors, nuclear detectors, license plate readers — all processing information in real time and reporting to a central location in Lower Manhattan.
“I’ll talk with the commissioner, make sure he’s up to speed.”
Vail glanced around the countryside — at least, what she could see over the tops of the tall hedges. “Probably best to leave my name out of it.”
Russo snorted. “No shit, Karen.”
“Gotta go. We’re questioning the asshole we caught at the Metro.”
“Hey, thanks for the heads-up.”
“Good luck — and tell Protch I said hi.”
“Tell him yourself.” With that, he hung up.
Vail lowered the handset from her ear, wondering if she had done the right thing. Yes. As a person, it was the right thing. As a law enforcement officer, I broke protocol.