Nick kept his face pointed to the ground as he covered the short distance to the SUV, which wasted no time setting off. The road soon disappeared as the driver favored an off-road route which, as Walid had said, headed south. It took less than an hour for them to arrive at a desolate looking farmhouse on the banks of the Kurram River. The SUV drove beyond the farmhouse and was guided by a waiting man into a large and just as shabby looking barn. The barn was already packed with a number of other vehicles. The driver squeezed in the SUV and, safely out of sight of any passing satellite or drones, he unlocked the doors for his passengers.
“Larbi will take you across to the meeting,” said the driver, pointing to the man who had guided them into the barn.
Nick stepped out of the SUV and took a gulp of air. The enormity of what he was about to do finally hit him. He had promised the Caliph he would deliver and he now had the chance to do that. The men that could make the plan a reality were sitting, waiting for him, just yards away.
Larbi ushered them on, raising a hand to stop Walid when they neared the farmhouse door while beckoning Nick forward.
Nick looked at Walid, who looked as confused as Nick did.
“Walid?” asked Nick.
Walid shrugged. “I was told to come with you.”
Larbi ushered Nick forward towards the door where a number of guards surrounded the entrance.
Nick’s plan was foolproof up to a point. The point being that he had to stay alive to deliver it. A crushing feeling hit him when the door opened to reveal a wooden block in the center of a large room. An executioner stood by its side brandishing a gleaming scimitar. That was not the sight Nick had hoped for. The men he had hoped to meet were in the room but rather than around a table, they were lining the walls smiling at him and beckoning him to join them in the room.
Before he had a chance to consider their offer, two guards grabbed him from behind and propelled him into the room. Nick considered fighting back but the odds were just too overwhelming. He didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter 61
Reid walked back into the center, having spent the previous two weeks in various locations across the Middle East with Flynn. All had proven to be wild goose chases. Nick Geller had quite literally disappeared off of the face of the earth. With no new videos having surfaced over that same period, the news stations had even managed to broadcast unrelated stories. Some semblance of normality was returning across America. Food supplies had been bolstered in stores, although there was still a significant minority insisting on bulk-buying and perpetuating food lines that weren’t quite back to what they had been just three weeks earlier.
Gas stations, however, had recovered more quickly. There was only so much fuel people could fit in their gas tanks. Once full, they were topping up just as they had when they had run their car at nearly empty. People weren’t using more gas, they just had more gas in their cars.
Reid knocked on Turner’s door before entering. “Deputy Director Turner,” she said, as she walked into the office.
“Special Agent Reid, good to have you back,” replied Turner, delighted to see his number two. Without her on site, he had spent more time on the main operations floor than he would have liked. He had also realized just how much work she did behind the scenes that he had been blissfully and happily unaware of.
“Any news?” she asked hopefully.
“Nothing. Not a sighting. Not a whisper, anywhere, even of his name,” he replied.
Carson, having heard Reid arrive, crashed the welcome party. “Sarah! Good to have you back,” he said warmly.
“Thank you, Harry,” she replied with a smile.
“Quite a trip you had. Is there anywhere you haven’t been in the Middle East?”
“I don’t think so. It was a fairly comprehensive trip but a complete waste of time.”
“Nothing anywhere. Even the chatter has dropped to levels we’ve not seen in years,” said Carson.
“The calm before the storm?” asked Reid rhetorically.
Both Carson and Turner nodded, the worry of that exact thought etched on their faces.
“Anyway, great to have you back,” reiterated Carson, heading out of the office.
“I found Speaker Lopez’s mole!” Turner called after him, causing Carson to stop in his tracks.
“You did?” asked Carson in surprise, closing Turner’s door as he stepped back into the office.
“It wasn’t easy. I had to call in a few favors at NSA. They tracked all calls from all cells from this location on the day in question.”
“Good thinking.”
“They’ve just come back and informed me that there was nothing. No calls to Speaker Lopez or anyone connected to her.”
“But I thought you said you found the source?” said Reid.
Carson smiled, as did Turner.
“What’s there to smile about?” asked Reid, looking at them grinning at each other.
“There’s not a chance in hell the NSA would have run that check without Harry knowing. He already knew the result because he made sure that’s what it was.”
Carson put on his best offended look.
“Furthermore,” continued Turner, “the biggest winner out of that debacle was the President. Speaker Lopez has been put firmly back in her box by the media. Her trip here was a public relations disaster that will be replayed for years to come.”
Carson nodded in agreement. “Yes, Madame Speaker was shown to be a little naïve when it comes to dealing with national crises. Don’t politicize or try to score points when people’s lives are at risk.”
“Emptying the center was genius and couldn’t have played out better if it had been orchestrated,” Turner said, looking directly at Carson.
“What, you think I set that up? Sending her a secret message from a ‘friend’ and telling her to bring a press pack and catch the center having a nap?”
“Did you?” asked Reid, finally catching up.
“If only I had thought of that!”
Turner shook his head as Carson walked out of the room.
“You think he did it?”
“Of course he did. The son of a bitch plays us like a grand pianist plays the piano!”
“Should you not tell someone?”
“Who?” asked Turner, walking over to the door and closing it, something Carson seemed incapable of doing.
“The Director? The President?”
“My proof is a lack of it. I only guessed the NSA would run it by him first. He didn’t deny they had. Even then, what are they going to do? Speaker Lopez is back at her day job and keeping her head down.”
“I guess that helps us too.”
“I know,” said Turner, reluctant to admit that Carson’s maneuver, however wrong, was helpful.
“So anyway,” said Reid trying to lighten the mood and change subject, “what leads are we working?”
Turner pointed sullenly to the white board at the back of his office. Nick Geller’s name was written in large letters across the top. The board below was empty.
“Nothing?” she said, unable to hide her disproval.
“Not nothing. There are little snippets, sightings down on the floor. I leave this board for the leads I think are going to come to something. Leads that might actually help us catch him.”
“Shit,” she said despondently, dropping onto the sofa. Silence filled the room and then she said, “What about Frankie?”
Turner shrugged. “The same, nothing new.”
“But she was hunched over her desk and too busy to even say hi when I came in.”
“To be honest, she’s been a bit strange all week and come to think of it, ever since she got back with Al Zahrani.”