“You okay? Oh — your claustrophobia.”
“I’m fine. We’ll be out of here in a minute.” Or an hour at the rate this thing moves. “Talk to me, take my mind off it.”
“Mo hasn’t replied to my texts or phone calls. I tried reaching him before I went back upstairs.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Annoying? How about unprofessional, irresponsible, sus—” The elevator hit the ground floor with a thud and Vail pushed the steel door open.
They walked outside, where DeSantos was waiting in the front courtyard.
“Anything from Mo?” Uzi asked.
“Nothing. Goes straight to voicemail. Anything worthwhile up there?”
“Karen’ll fill you in. I’ve gotta make a call.” Uzi headed toward the sidewalk as he pulled up the number. It was answered by Isamu.
“A year, year and a half ago we worked together on the Hades case,” Uzi said. “We used the domain awareness system to—”
“I remember,” Isamu said. “Your name kind of makes you unforgettable.”
Uzi had to laugh. “Listen, I’m in town on a counterterrorism case and I need some help. If I send you a photo of someone, can you run it through the facial rec system and let me know if he’s been anywhere in the city? I gotta find him.”
“Suspect?”
“A person of interest. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Send it over, I’ll see what I can do. Facial rec still isn’t up and running everywhere, but maybe we’ll get a hit.”
Uzi thanked him, then stood there thinking before rejoining Vail and DeSantos. Spying on a fellow federal agent was an extreme measure … but was it crossing the line? Perhaps. But for Fahad to go dark, without explanation, was potentially problematic considering who he was — and his family history. It could be innocent — but short of injury or emergency, there was no good excuse for his lack of contact in the middle of a major investigation.
“Let’s go,” DeSantos said with a shove to his shoulder.
The jostling woke Uzi from his fugue. He pulled out his keys as they started toward their car. “Did Karen fill you in?”
“She did.”
“Where is she?”
“She went down the block to get us something to eat. Something the rabbi recommended as you were leaving. Rooga — rooga-something. You know, that thing you do with your throat. The ‘ch’ sound, like you’re bringing up sputum.
“Rugalach.”
DeSantos pointed at Uzi. “Yeah, that.”
“It’s a twisted pastry, kind of like a cross between a strudel and a croissant.”
“Whatever.”
“So what do you think?” Uzi asked. “About what Karen told you.”
DeSantos shrugged. “Obviously we need to find these missing pages.”
Uzi stopped walking. “It’s not obvious to me. The codex is incredibly important in world history, no question. It burns me that a terrorist organization has those pages — but tracking down stolen artifacts is not our job. We’ve got enough on our plate.”
“You’re missing the point,” DeSantos said, turning and walking backward along the sidewalk, facing Uzi. “Find those codex pages and we’ll find Kadir Abu Sahmoud.”
“Don’t you mean the opposite?” Uzi asked. “Our job is to investigate and find Sahmoud — and when we do, we’ll find the codex pages.”
“Boychick, you’re thinking like an FBI agent.”
Uzi stopped walking. “I am an FBI agent. I’m in charge of the DC Joint Terrorism Task Force, remember?”
DeSantos closed the gap between them. “Look,” he said, keeping his voice low, “right now you’re working a case that sits on the border between domestic investigation and black ops. That’s why OPSIG is involved.”
“I didn’t ask for this assignment. I should be doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You are doing what you’re supposed to be doing: helping prevent another attack and catching the bad guy. Does it matter how you do it?”
“I think it does. I gave up the covert ops life.”
“And Knox pulled you back in. To pay off a debt.”
Uzi clenched his jaw. Years ago he had omitted key information from his original FBI application — but Knox knew the truth all along and he waited patiently until the time was right to call in his chit. It’s the way Knox worked — quietly, patiently in the background, picking his spots to swoop in and pounce: leverage his intel, win concessions to make people do what they did not want to do, reveal what they did not want to reveal.
Vail saw Uzi and DeSantos down the block. She whistled but they did not respond. She continued toward them carrying a clear plastic container filled with pastries.
“These are dangerously delicious. I got chocolate, chocolate, and chocolate. Hope that’s okay.”
Uzi and DeSantos were staring at each other: silent anger.
I leave for five minutes and the men forget how to play nicely together. “I sense some tension.” She studied their faces a moment, then said, “Let me guess. You guys disagree on what we should do next.”
“Yeah,” DeSantos said, his jaw fixed. “Uzi thinks we should go after Sahmoud and forget about the codex. That’s the ‘FBI thing’ to do.”
Vail nodded slowly. “Well, I’m FBI. And I’m gonna give you my opinion. Right now, there is only one thing we can do — and that’s investigate and follow the leads. And our only lead is this lone fingerprint and the stolen codex pages. We’ve got a lot of little puzzle pieces with nothing tangible connecting them. But these codex pages, we know who has them and—”
“Do we?” Uzi asked.
“Yeah. It’s reasonable to assume that something this important is being held by the top dog. That’s Sahmoud. Follow the trail and it’ll lead us to him.”
Uzi shook his head. “I’ve got nothing better, so I’m on board. For now. But if we get a more substantial lead — like something dealing with the actual terror attacks — then that’s where we put our energies.”
“Fine,” DeSantos said.
“Fine,” Uzi echoed as he resumed walking toward their car.
27
Vail’s phone buzzed as she turned onto the Brooklyn Queens Expressway, headed back to Manhattan. She handed it to Uzi, who was riding shotgun.
“Text from Russo. He wants to know if we’re still in town.”
Vail merged to the right lane. “Does he have something for us?”
“I’ll ask.” As soon as Uzi sent off the message, DeSantos’s phone rang — and seconds later, Vail’s vibrated.
Uzi consulted the display. “Russo said to meet him at Centre Street in front of city hall — if we can get through. They’ve closed down all the streets in a three-block radius. The bridge traffic is being diverted.”
“We’ll get as close as we can and walk if we have to. Did he say what it’s about?”
“Apparently,” DeSantos said, hanging up, “our case. That was Knox. He doesn’t have any details but the FBI’s now on-scene. He’s waiting for an update. And he’s on his way.”
“That can’t be good.” Vail accelerated and moved into the far left lane. “Text Mo, give him the address and tell him to meet us there.”
“If it’ll do any good,” Uzi said. “He’s ignored us all day.”
“I got it,” DeSantos said as he started tapping on his phone.
Uzi started to hand her back the Samsung when it vibrated yet again. He glanced at the display and said, “It’s Tim Meadows.”
“Answer it.”
He put the phone on speaker.
“Hey, Karen. I found something that’s gonna make you very happy.”
“Hi Tim,” Uzi said. “What do you got?”