Black Flagged Apex

Chapter 17





5:03 AM

National Counterterrorism Center

Washington, D.C.



Special Agent Sharpe finished giving his pep talk to the exhausted task force personnel and started to make his rounds to all of the stations. Special Agent Mendoza would start making arrangements to have the personnel rotate through mandatory rest periods, where they would make use of the limited on-site sleeping quarters. NCTC designers had assumed correctly that certain operations might keep watch floor users tied to the building for several days; however, they had grossly underestimated the possible size of these groups. Sharpe would likely have to authorize the use of several rooms at a nearby Marriott.

The investigation's pace had picked up over the past few hours and would likely build more momentum as the day unfolded. They now had full access to Hamid Muhammad's mosque and apartment. Both qualified as federal crime scenes when Agent Janice Riehms found three dead bodies in the middle of the prayer hall. Riehms had carefully crafted her request to enter the mosque on the premise that the Imam's sudden departure more resembled an abduction than an escape. Two men pushing another man into the back of a van at midnight. Sharpe authorized her to search the mosque for signs of foul play, which they immediately discovered. In many ways, the loss of the Imam opened investigative avenues previously blocked by the Justice Department's restrictions.

The biggest break came from the "anonymous" tip that led to the successful capture of the missing terrorist cell. Four virus canisters had been recovered from a cooler in one of the bedrooms. From what Homeland's bioweapons team could tell, each of the canisters appeared to contain their original payload. Removing four canisters from terrorist hands signified a major win for Task Force Scorpion; however, fifty canisters still remained at large, which was not a comforting thought. Sharpe figured he'd better have someone make the Marriott arrangements immediately. They had just scratched the surface of this investigation.

He could feel Callie Stewart's eyes following him as he worked his way through the last few stations. So far, she had proved to be unobtrusive, simply observing the action from her perch. He had expected her to frequently descend the stairs to share her thoughts, but she only seemed interested in pestering him with text messages about putting undercover agents in the mosque. Those messages had mercifully stopped after the Imam's spectacular escape.


**

Callie Stewart watched Special Agent Sharpe disappear under the catwalk. She was a little nervous about what General Sanderson wanted her to do. Sharpe might arrest her on the spot, though he had no real charges to levy against her, or he might simply ban her from NCTC. Either option would render her mission incapable. Even if she were to convince him to follow Sanderson's plan, he might change his mind at any moment and exercise his options to have her removed.

Her boss felt confident that Sharpe would bite at the proposal. This wouldn't be Sharpe's first walk into the gray area. He'd taken a step out onto that ledge earlier tonight, when he had authorized Agent Riehms to enter the mosque. Sanderson had assured her that the FBI agent had other skeletons hidden in his closet and fed her the lines she would need to sway Sharpe. He expected her to improvise the rest to earn her exorbitant fee for this job.

She made her way down the stairs, drawing a few stares from both NCTC and task force personnel. She could sense a combination of enmity and pure attraction. She locked eyes with Special Agent Mendoza and flicked her head, hoping he would understand this subtle gesture. She needed him in the room with Sharpe when she made her proposal. If Sharpe went along with it, she needed Mendoza's approval to seal the deal among the rest of the task force. A one-on-one meeting would raise too many suspicions, especially with Special Agent O'Reilly.

Sanderson's cyber team had already defeated several attempts by O'Reilly to electronically eavesdrop on her office. She didn't blame the agent for her suspicion and anger. Sanderson's operatives had severely wounded three agents assigned to Sharpe two years ago, including O'Reilly. She had spent several weeks in recovery, trying to regain full use of her left arm. A 5.56mm bullet had separated the forearm muscle from the bone. From her perch on the catwalk, she could clearly see that O'Reilly had not fully recovered; she frequently removed her left hand from the keyboard, continuing only with her right hand while she gave the left forearm a break.

Stewart reached Sharpe's door, which was open, and knocked on the frame. Agent Mendoza closed in on her from behind.

"Come in," Sharpe said, without looking up.

She stepped inside his office, and when he finally lifted his head, she could tell that he wished it were possible to rescind the invitation. Agent Mendoza squeezed by her without any sort of pleasantry and stood near the left front corner of Sharpe's desk. Mendoza swept his right hand back slightly, clearing enough of his jacket to ensure quick, smooth access to his service pistol.

"How may I help you, Ms. Stewart?" Sharpe asked.

"May I close the door? You can keep the windows transparent, so O'Reilly doesn't get too worried," she said.

"Sure," Sharpe conceded.

Once the door was shut, she wasted no time getting to the point.

"Now that you've more or less neutralized the Al Qaeda side of the threat, we need to focus on the real problem. True America…"

"We? The task force is doing just fine without your help. We'll let you know when Congress, the Department of Justice, the Supreme Court and the president have authorized us to ignore the laws of the land, thereby approving the methods your organization might employ. If that's all, I'm a little busy processing all of our new leads."

"No word on the warrants from Justice?" she prodded.

"I don't need the warrants anymore. The mosque is a federal crime scene."

"That's right. The Imam was abducted," she said flatly.

"We found three bodies inside the mosque. Arabs. Turns out one of them was on the watch list with ties to known Al Qaeda operatives in Europe."

"But you found them after you conspired with Agent Riehms to classify the Imam's departure as an abduction."

"Agent Riehms applied sixteen years of FBI experience to reach that conclusion. I trust her judgment."

"Especially since it allowed you access to the mosque you've been begging Justice to let you enter. And I'm sure Agent Riehms had every reason to make a sound, objective assessment, given the fact that she just lost the primary focus of the task force's investigation. Put the two together, and it sounds like a compelling reason to break a few rules."

"That's your interpretation," Sharpe said.

"Let's just hope it stays that way."

Sharpe simply stared at her, shaking his head. "I'm really not worried about it."

"Which is exactly why you need to hear what I'm proposing, Agent Sharpe. You've made some gains stepping over the line, but you'll have to do it again to break into True America. We need to start working our way up their human network; capture personnel on the ground. Right now, all you have is a tenuous link to True America with Julius Grimes. He's disappeared, and I can guarantee that you'll never see him again."

"The Imam made contact with True America at some point to coordinate the specifics of the delivery to Harrisburg. It looks like Al Qaeda was keeping their end of the bargain, so there's bound to be more. I guarantee we'll find something at the mosque or in his apartment that will give us the jumpstart we need," Sharpe said.

"You won't. Our people have scoured his computer and the mosque. There's nothing useful in his apartment either. And Al Qaeda had no intention of keeping their end of the bargain. I can give you an address in Middletown, Pennsylvania, that contains five decomposing Middle Eastern men. This was the hit squad assigned by Al Qaeda to recover the Harrisburg delivery. Both of these organizations were running a double cross from the start," Stewart said.

"Really? And exactly how do you know this?" Mendoza interjected.

"Because we have the Imam."

Agent Sharpe rose swiftly, and for a brief moment, Stewart thought she might have to physically defend herself. Mendoza's hand flashed to his gun, pulling it three quarters of the way out of its holster.

"You're in way over your head here, Ms. Stewart. I hope you're f*cking with me right now because if you aren't…I'll have your ass dragged off in handcuffs."

"Sanderson wants to use the Imam to draw True America into the open. Whether you arrest me or not, the Imam will start placing calls this morning to his True America contacts," she said.

"He'll never be able to convince them to come out of hiding. True America is done with Al Qaeda."

"Maybe. According to the Imam, True America tipped him off about the FBI raids," Stewart said.

"This morning's raid?" Mendoza said.

"No. He claims to have received a call at about 3:30 in the morning, on the night that most of his teams were hit by True America. He was told to go into hiding at the mosque, where the FBI couldn't touch him," Stewart said.

"This doesn't make a lot of sense. How confident are you in the Imam's information?" Sharpe said.

"His babysitters are fairly certain he's telling the truth, though I agree that something doesn't add up."

"Either way, Ms. Stewart, by now True America has to realize that Mr. Muhammad uncovered the truth. I doubt very much that they would agree to meet with him," Sharpe said.

"You're absolutely right," she said and paused before continuing. "He's not going to try and set up a meeting. He'll threaten to expose Al Qaeda's collaboration with True America. The Imam hasn't coughed up any big picture details, but I think it's fair to assume that True America had a hand in funding this operation from the very beginning. He can use Grime's name to establish some credibility. Say that he has additional assets that have managed to track some of their operatives. You'll release news of the last cell being captured, so the Imam's desperation will make sense. He has no more virus in his possession, so he'll expose them if they don't give him ten canisters to continue his mission against the Infidels. Something convincing like that."

"They'll never give him the canisters. He's dead if they can draw him out of hiding," Sharpe said.

"Huh," Mendoza muttered, drawing a strange look from Sharpe.

"You're starting to get the picture, Agent Mendoza. The calls will be traceable. The location is a logical fit for where the Imam might hide. We sit and wait for them to send a team to eliminate the Imam," Stewart said.

"Since I haven't been arrested yet, is it fair to assume that you're interested?"

"Intrigued is a better word. I can't put undercover FBI agents in a situation where they are guaranteed to be attacked," Sharpe said.

"You don't have to. Our undercover team will cover ground zero. Trust me, they're a lot more convincing undercover than your people. The FBI can provide sniper support and SWAT backup. If True America takes the bait, you'll be able to start pulling at True America's threads. Sooner or later, you'll start to unravel their cover."

"What do you think, Frank?" Sharpe asked, turning to Mendoza.

"I was really hoping you wouldn't ask me that," Mendoza replied.

"All of your bases will be covered on this one. How well do you trust Kerem Demir, your investigative lead?" Stewart asked.

"Implicitly. He's a loyal agent," Sharpe said without hesitation.

"I'm not talking about loyalty. I'm talking about doing you a favor and keeping it quiet."

"I don't like where this is going," Mendoza said.

"All I'm suggesting is that you have him prioritize the analysis of the cell phones recovered in Bayonne. A few calls were placed to a market on Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn. Several dozen shops on that street cater to the massive Muslim community in Kensington. If I were the Imam, this would be a decent place for me to hole up and plan the next move."

"These guys are careful. Why would they make a call to a physical location that could jeopardize the safety of the Imam?"

"Why would the original World Trade Center bombers try to get their deposit back for a rental van that they exploded in the attack? I think you might be giving these people a little more credit than they deserve. One of the terrorists in Bayonne was carrying a cell phone that should have been destroyed prior to arriving at the safe house. Not to mention the fact that eight out of the ten terrorist cells associated with this plot were taken down by True America."

Sharpe shook his head slowly as his eyes narrowed. He sat down at his desk and typed a message.

"Done. The cell phones have been given the highest priority. What else does Sanderson have up his sleeve? I assume the anonymous tip about the safe house in Bayonne was graciously provided by your organization?"

"The Imam gave us the location, which we immediately passed on to your task force. Sanderson's efforts are focused on helping you move the investigation forward."

"As you can well imagine, I don't trust him any more than I trust the Imam. He's a master manipulator and an engineer of chaos. If I sense at any point that he's playing a game here, I'll pull the plug on your organization's participation and detain everyone until I sort it out. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly. Just think of where your investigation stands right now compared to last night. This is the kind of progress you can expect to continue making with Sanderson's support."

"When can we expect the Imam to fall into our lap?" Mendoza asked.

"When he's no longer useful to the investigation," Stewart said blankly.

"Very funny. Why do I get the distinct impression that Hamid Muhammad will never be seen again?" Sharpe asked.

"Do you really want to see him sipping tea in an interrogation cell?"

"Not really," Mendoza mumbled.

"Neither does Sanderson. You don't need to worry about the Imam. He's our problem. It's better that way. How long until Agent Demir comes up with the Brooklyn location?" Stewart said.

"I have a videoconference with the White House situation room in two hours. I'd like to include this in my briefing. He'll send the data directly here for analysis. If I haven't seen anything in thirty minutes, I'll have O'Reilly request it, if she hasn't already."

"Why didn't you send the request directly to O'Reilly in the first place?" Stewart asked.

"Because if I had sent her this request while meeting with you, she'd put two and two together before you walked out of the door."

Callie Stewart nodded. "I'll notify Sanderson. He'll contact our team at the field office in Newark and—"

"And the rest of the team you concealed from me?" Sharpe said.

"They'll get to work scouting the location before this becomes official. Lines of sight for your stakeout teams, optimal sniper positions, avenues of approach, all that. They should have most of it figured out by the time your first units arrive on the scene. The Imam should place his first call by mid-morning at the latest, so your people will need to hustle. If True America traces the call, they could have people on the scene within minutes."

Mendoza started to say something, but stopped before uttering a word. Sharpe flashed him a look, which she recognized immediately.

"Don't get any crazy ideas, gentlemen. The Imam will not be present at the site."

"I never said—" Mendoza started.

"You didn't have to," Stewart interrupted, heading toward the door. "Woman's intuition. Which reminds me…you might want to consider bringing O'Reilly in on the secret sooner rather than later. She'll become a liability if she discovers that you cut her out of the loop."

"O'Reilly isn't your concern," Sharpe said.

Stewart raised an eyebrow in response to his comment and exited the office, displaying a half smirk. Upon leaving, she stared up at one of the larger flat-screen displays near O'Reilly's workstation. Through her peripheral vision, she could see Agent Hesterman tracking her movement toward the stairs, which meant that O'Reilly was trying to be discreet. O'Reilly had the potential to become a massive problem if not handled correctly. They needed to bring her in at the ground level on this one.

Sanderson had identified O'Reilly as the other potential player on the task force. She had conspired with Sharpe two years ago to pass highly classified information to a less than scrupulous field agent, in an ill-fated attempt to turn Jessica Petrovich against her husband. Jessica had played Special Agent Edwards in order to steal the agent's computer and password, granting Sanderson's crew full access to the task force's database. What she did to Agent Edwards afterward went down in FBI history as a textbook case of how not to interact with a witness under any circumstance.

Sharpe's only luck that day stemmed from the fact that Edwards had been given a relatively high dose of a date rape drug, and couldn't remember much beyond his alcohol laden, expensive dinner with the femme fatale. The uproar surrounding Edward's thoroughly incompetent and embarrassing screw up lasted long enough for O'Reilly to remove the incriminating emails from the inside. In Sanderson's opinion, O'Reilly would support Sharpe on a slight divergence from procedure, or a major one if the end justified the means and it didn't directly endanger other agents.





BLACK WATER