Sleeper Cell Super Boxset (11 page)

“This is your man?” Kasaika asked, keeping his rifle pointed at Perry while the others had lowered their weapons. “You have told this man our plans? Our secrets?” The closer Kasaika moved toward Perry, his men started to reach for their pistols. “He works for the very agency that’s trying to kill us!”

Perry held up his hand. “I can understand your hesitation, Kasaika. I would do the same in your position.
Jazaka Allahu Khairan.
”

The man’s Arabic was impressive. Kasaika had never heard the dialect spoken with such authenticity from an American, but still, it did not mean he could be trusted. “Allah will reward only who he sees fit.”

“Enough!” Sefkh stepped between them with his hands thrust into the air. All it took was the look on his face to make his men lower their weapons. When Kasaika was the only one left standing with his rifle raised, Sefkh walked to him and gripped the barrel of the weapon then forced it down by hand.

“I thank you for your audience, Sefkh,” Perry said, giving a light bow. “Now, I believe we have business to discuss?”

“Yes.” Sefkh motioned to Kasaika, and the three stepped into a back room, where they could speak alone, leaving their weapons, and their men, outside.

The only thing Perry carried with him was a briefcase, which he set on the small table. “I trust your trip over went smoothly, Kasaika?” Perry unlatched the briefcase’s latches and spread the documents on the table.

“Yes, everything went according to plan,” Kasiaka answered, picking up a few of the papers.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Agent Perry has granted us much of the access that allowed us to get you here, Kasaika,” Sefkh said. “If it were not for him, I don’t believe your arrival would have been successful.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” Perry replied. “The state department still has terrorism listed as its number one priority. There are hundreds, thousands really, of government agents looking for a chance to score big on locating some type of threat. It’s a career booster for those looking to climb the rungs of the government ladder quickly.”

“People like you?” Kasaika asked, looking up from the documents.

“Do you see what you’re looking at? These schematics have only been viewed by a handful of individuals with the clearance to see them. You’ve been planning this trip for what? A decade? What you see before you has taken a life’s work.
My
life’s work. You may not trust me, but at least have the respect for what I’ve done!” Perry’s face had flushed red, and his head tremored from rage. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, slowly, the color of his cheeks returning to normal. “My apologies, Sefkh. Kasaika. The events over the past twenty-four hours in preparation have been stressful.”

Sefkh placed his hand on Perry’s shoulder. “It has been stressful on all of us, my friend.”

Kasaika looked over the documents carefully, examining them the best he could. All of them had red stamps over them marked “classified” or “top secret.” If these schematics were truly real, if this man was not trying to fool them into some type of trap, then everything that Kasaika had dreamed of, all of the suffering, all of the pain, would not have been for nothing. “These are impressive.” Kasaika pressed the corner of one of the papers into his finger. “But the drawings are only half of what we need. How do you expect us to move all of this?”

Perry pressed his hands against the front of his lapel, running his fingers down the soft fabric. “The boat captain.”

“I don’t understand.” Kasaika looked to Sefkh. “The captain was working for you? For us?” Kasaika slammed his fist into the table. “He killed our men!”

“Calm yourself, Kasaika,” Sefkh replied. “He was not working for us. Knowingly, at least.”

“That man, the captain you let slip through your fingers, did you ever ask yourself why Sefkh wanted you to keep him alive?” Perry leisurely walked around the table. Kasaika didn’t appreciate the manner in which the man carried himself so casually, like nothing could touch him. Kasaika could touch him. He could kill him now.

“The United States has warehouses with thousands of acres of servers, all containing and processing information on citizens, foreigners, religious organizations, anyone and everyone that could have an impact on this country’s interests. And do you know who is highly targeted once all those terabytes of data are processed?” Perry pressed his finger into Kasaika’s chest and locked his eyes with his own. “You. Your name, your family’s name with its radical Egyptian heritage, all of them are red flags for anyone working in this business, but I made sure your sister wasn’t hauled off to some cell fifty feet underground when she arrived in this country because of who
you
were. But do you know who the government doesn’t care about? Captain Dylan Turk.”

Perry separated himself and returned to his briefcase. He pulled out a cluster of pictures and tossed them on the table, where they skidded to the edge next to Kasaika. “And that is Dylan Turk’s family. Aside from his job, it’s the one thing he loves more than anything. So what are we going to do? Use that love and twist it into whatever we want.”

Chapter 9 – Saturday 10:30 a.m.

The number of smoke plumes grew with every mile they drove. They dotted the city like a plague, each of them a festering wound. It wasn’t like anything Dylan had ever seen in his lifetime. The streets were clogged with traffic, people, police vehicles, ambulances. The peaceful Saturday morning so many Boston citizens had planned was immediately halted and thrown into chaos.

Rumblings from the streets, the cries, the people running on stores and the local police doing their best to stop them. Cooper tapped the glass of her passenger-side window. “That’s what people are. That’s what we turn into when our backs are against the wall. It’s amazing we’ve lasted as long as we have.”

The car was packed full with DEA agents, with Dylan sitting in the middle row of seats in the large SUV. They all murmured similar thoughts, watching the events they passed. The fear, the chaos, the ruthlessness that embodied everything that they tried to prevent had erupted from the city all at once.

“Our demons always reveal themselves during moments of trial,” Dylan said. Every agent in the car looked at him, and he watched a few of their expressions through the reflection of the window. It was a phrase he repeated to himself often, whenever he felt himself tempted, tested. It was something he wished he could forget, but the truth of the matter was there was a piece of him that hungered for the pain that came with those words. The moments of release, the moments when he couldn’t control that pain, that’s when he felt it—a deep, burning desire for more. More hate, more vengeance, more power.

Dylan gave his head a light shake. Sweat rolled down his temple and neck. The inside of the vehicle suddenly felt cramped, and the seatbelt across his chest felt like it was choking him.
All that matters is getting my family to safety. Focus on that.
Dylan’s heart rate lowered, and his muscles loosened their vice-like hold.

Once out of the city and into the suburbs, the chaos and violence was less prevalent. Screaming and looting was replaced with neighbors on their front lawns, talking to one another, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on now that most of the cell towers and communication channels were lost.

The security guard at the front gate of his ex-wife’s community was nowhere to be seen, so Cooper and her agents let themselves in. This neighborhood was more or less the same as the others they passed. A few families were packing up their belongings and anything they could fit in their car. Most of these people probably had second homes somewhere, and that’s where they would wait it out until whatever was happening ended.

No doubt that Peter would be in that same category. The man had money to burn. No matter how many times he tried to rationalize it, Dylan couldn’t rid himself of the gnawing perception that the only reason Evelyn had married that man was because of the money. Not that he blamed her. With everything that Dylan had put her through, she deserved some comfort. Dylan wasn’t a poor man, but the size of his operation never made him rich either.

“What now?” Cooper asked.

The caravan came to a stop on the side of the street right next to Evelyn’s house. She was outside, screaming at her neighbors, screaming at Peter. Her face was a bright red and her eyes and cheeks puffed from crying.

Dylan ripped his seatbelt off and rushed past the rest of the agents and toward Evelyn. She gripped him by the shoulders, hysterical, her nails digging through the fabric of his shirt. “He’s gone!”

“What? Who’s gone, Evelyn? What happened?”

Her voice quivered, and her hands trembled. “Sean. He was here, and then after we heard those explosions, we stepped outside, and when I tried to find him he was gone. I don’t know where he is or if he’s okay, or… or…” Evelyn’s face scrunched up, and she let go of Dylan and used both hands to cover her mouth, muffling moans creeping through the spaces of her fingers.

“Mrs. Harth, when was the last time you saw your son?” Agent Cooper asked. She held a notepad, and some of her men were already out, scanning the house’s perimeter.

“Um, an-an hour ago?” Evelyn shrugged, her lips still quivering. She wrapped herself with her own arms, and Peter walked up behind her and kissed her cheek.

“What about you, Mr. Harth?” Cooper asked. “When did you last see your son?”

“Stepson,” Dylan interjected. He didn’t care how good of a man Evelyn made Peter out to be. Those were his children. This was his son that had gone missing. And it would be Dylan who found him, not that man. That was his blood out there, not Peter’s.

“It was just before we heard the blasts in the city,” Peter answered, giving Dylan a side-eye. “Which was about an hour ago, like my wife said.”

“Anything go missing? Clothes, toys, food, his bike?”

“His room’s a mess.” Evelyn breathed big gulps between words, almost to the point of hyperventilating, but she held it together despite the random shakes from her body. “But I didn’t see anything.”

“I can check the garage for the bike,” Peter replied.

Cooper put a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m sure he just went for a ride around the block, probably hanging out with some friends, trying to explore and figure out what happened. He’ll come back when he’s hungry. They always do.”

Evelyn gave a ghostly nod. Peter jogged back over and shook his head. “His bike’s gone.” The words set off another shriek from Evelyn.

“Does he have any friends nearby?” Cooper asked. “Someplace he likes to go when he feels scared or he’s in trouble?”

“No. He doesn’t have any friends close by,” Evelyn answered.

“He keeps to himself most of the time,” Peter said. “He doesn’t have a lot of friends.”

Dylan noticed the flicker of Peter’s eyes toward him when he said the words. It was true that Sean didn’t like crowds, and it wasn’t a secret that his father wasn’t a fan either. Some genetics stick more than others. “Where’s Mary?”

“She’s inside,” Evelyn answered, wiping her nose on Peter’s sleeve.

Dylan found his daughter upstairs in her room, coloring on the floor, circled by her stuffed animals. She didn’t look up when he entered, a habit she formed when her brother convinced her to keep a secret from her parents. “Hey, honey, what are you doing?”

“Drawing.” Mary switched out one of her crayons and continued the picture.

Dylan placed his hand on the top of Mary’s head, stroking her hair. “Mary, I need you to tell me where your brother went.”

“Sean said I wasn’t supposed to tell Mom or Peter.” Mary looked up at him, batting her eyes, her small cheeks round and puffy. “He made me promise.”

“But you can tell me, right?” Dylan asked, giving a smile.

Mary let out a sigh. “He said he was going to find you.” She returned to her coloring, and Dylan kissed her on the top of her head then flew back down the stairs.

Dylan barely slowed to a stop as Evelyn and Cooper grabbed hold of him on his way to the car. “We have to go back into the city.”

“Captain, I don’t know if that’s the best idea right now,” Cooper said. “We want to get you and your family to a safe place, and we don’t know when all of this is going to end.”

“And what is happening out there?” Peter asked, interjecting between the two of them. “We’ve been hearing all kinds of things. Mostly speculation, but it would be nice to have some facts.”

“The facts are still developing.” Cooper gave a smile that Dylan noticed had a hint of “fuck you.”

“Sean went to my place,” Dylan said.

“He’s out there?” Evelyn pointed toward the pluming smoke and chaos that had consumed Boston. The plumes had multiplied, and another explosion rumbled in the distance. It was light, like a thunderstorm growing on the horizon. Evelyn broke down and buried her face into Peter’s shoulder at the sound and sight of the city. “My baby.”

“I’ll get him back,” Dylan said, but before he could head to the car, Cooper pulled his shoulder back and spun him around. The other agents with her cut off any other path, forcing him to stay put.

“Dylan, think about this. And we don’t know what else these people are planning.” Cooper kept her voice low as the circle around Dylan thickened, causing Peter and Evelyn to move closer to hear what they were saying.

“You can either help me get back to my place, or I can go alone, but either way, you’re not stopping me.” Dylan felt his face redden. Each of the DEA squad members gripped their weapons tightly and took one step closer to Dylan in the center.

“All right, Captain,” Cooper replied, letting out a sigh. She thrust her hand into the air and circled it around. “Let’s move out.”

While the rest of the agents piled back into their cars, Dylan walked over to Evelyn, still buried in Peter’s arms. “Evelyn, I will bring our boy home. I promise you.” She moved her head out from Peter’s shirt, her face red and wet. She walked over to him and used both of her hands to hold one of his. “I know you will.”

Dylan gave her hands a light squeeze, and then he rushed back to the SUV where Cooper and her agents were already waiting. The crowds had thickened on the streets and lawns of the neighborhood at the sight of any authority that could tell them anything about what was happening. But those people were the farthest thing from Dylan’s mind. If he couldn’t bring his boy back, he wasn’t sure if he could hold back that anger he’d kept at bay for so long. He wasn’t going to lose another son.