Sleeper Cell Super Boxset (38 page)

News soon got out that it was Perry, a high-level deputy director from Homeland Security, who was behind the attacks, the one institution that was supposed to stop terrorist threats from coming to fruition. It spun well into the narrative of Dylan’s involvement and Perry’s manipulation.

Homeland had spawned a lunatic with his itchy finger on the button. While Moringer and the rest of the officials conceded that it was Perry who had taken control of the base, they did not let the media know of the other nuclear missiles still within his control.

The CIA director slapped another folder onto Moringer’s desk. “We’ve got three more disarmed.”

“Where does that put us on the timeline?” Moringer and the rest of the directors knew that trying to get to Perry now was fruitless and they’d begun the arduous process of disarming the nukes at the military bases. While Perry controlled them, he couldn’t stop U.S. officials from disarming the weapons at the surface level.

“We’re bringing in more crews from around the country, as well as some international allies—”

“Where does that put us on the timeline?”

The CIA director let out a slight sigh. “We’re still at twenty-four hours.”

Moringer slammed his fists onto the table. “Dammit, Perry is not bluffing! That is twelve more nukes he’ll launch, and God knows what’ll happen if he changes the deadline or the number of targets.”

“Well, unless you have some sort of secret playbook that tells us what to do next in this situation, we’re doing what we can.”

Stress, lack of sleep, and an increased diet of caffeine and fast food lunches had left everyone on edge and out of patience. Moringer rubbed his eyes.

“I’ve been in this job for thirty years, and in all that time, I’ve never had anything like this happen before,” the CIA director replied. “I don’t think anyone would have thought about this in their wildest nightmares.”

Moringer leaned back, thinking of Perry, all the years he’d been planning this, all the death and destruction he’d brought to millions of innocent lives and what he would continue to bring if they didn’t stop him. “I know of at least one person who has.”

The CIA director leaned in and lowered his voice. “You want some free advice? Shut it off. That part of you that connects you to all of this. It’ll help you distance yourself from it. And you’ll need that.”

“If we distance ourselves from it, we make ourselves more like Perry. Disconnected.”

“Trust me. Perry is more connected than any of us right now. For him, this is as personal as it gets.” The CIA director tapped Moringer’s desk then left, leaving the disarming reports.

Moringer turned the pages, looking at all of the data he now had access to. Data he never even wanted to know. Nuclear codes, waste disposal, computer components, classified documents—all of it was too much. He’d spent the last thirty minutes just processing what he’d seen on the news, what he’d already known the moment the clock hit zero. And now it had restarted, counting down to another attack on another city, killing more innocent citizens. Moringer picked up the phone and dialed Cooper, hoping she’d made some headway into the investigation. “Cooper, tell me you have some good news.”

“Perry manipulated some of his family tree. Melvin Perry was only his step-father, and I managed to find a step-aunt that he’s been taking care of. I think Dylan and Perry are connected more than we think.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that feeling too. Any way we can use the aunt to our advantage?”

“No, she’s on her way out, and she hasn’t seen Perry in a long time. But from the sound of it she was the only one in Perry’s past that tried to help. She also mentioned a half-brother Perry had. I put in a file request to get his information, but with everything that’s happened it’s been hard getting some of the documents. If you could get Jimmy to speed it along over there that’d be helpful.”

“I’ll make sure I talk to him about it. Where are you now?”

“Boston. I’m on my way to check out some files with the DCF Headquarters. According to the step-aunt Richard’s step-dad was pretty abusive, and the case workers assigned to him didn’t do much in terms of stopping it.”

“You think that has something to do with Perry’s attacks?”

“I think Perry covered a lot of this up for a reason, and I’m going to find out why.”

“Keep digging.”

“Yes, sir.”

Moringer hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, the weight of the day leaning with him. Sitting there, he wasn’t sure if he’d have the strength to get back up again. The television was still broadcasting the news from around the country. Every single network that still had the ability to send out a signal was on the air. He reached for the remote to turn it off but stopped when one of the reporters was standing next to an older gentleman, covered in dirt and dust, accentuating the lines of time on his face. Behind the old man and the reporter, fire fighters worked on putting out the flames. Columns of smoke rose high into the sky.

The reporter jammed the microphone into the old man’s face. “
Sir, can you tell me what happened here
?”

The old man shook his head, dust and ash falling from his eyelids. “
We didn’t know what was going on with San Francisco, but my wife and I were at dinner there in our hotel when a bunch of people came rushing in and trashed the place. A few of them had guns, some had knives, and anyone who had a weapon started using it. People were screaming, crying. I grabbed my wife and ran. I just got out of there.
” He looked back to the burning building. “
Once I got my wife to the car, the building caught on fire. With everything that had happened, I wasn’t sure if help was on the way or not, so I dashed back inside and just started getting people out
.”

“
It must have been quite an experience, a lot of fear and panic.
”

The old man started to tear up. “
I just
—” His voice caught in his throat, and he stopped. “
I have three boys, and for some reason I just thought that maybe someone else had a son or a daughter inside and had to get them out. I’d want someone to do that for my children.
”

The reporter clapped the man on the back, and a cloud of dust whirled in the air behind him. “
A brave man in a treacherous time. We’ll throw it back to the studio. In the mean time, I’m
—”

Moringer turned the television off and tossed the remote onto the desk and jumped from his chair. The old man was right. There were still people out there who needed help, people who could still be saved.

***

The piece of wall Dylan had stared at for the past thirty minutes hadn’t changed. It was the same solid white it’d been since the beginning. He blinked his eyes, feeling the dryness of the long stare. The news played in the background on the television they’d put in his room. The anchors were still tallying up the death tolls. Dylan wasn’t sure if the television was placed in the room as a gift or a punishment. Right now it felt closer to torture.

Pinched between Dylan’s fingers was the faded picture of his children, the one he’d taken with him on so many fishing trips and kept through the missions with the terrorists. His thumb moved slowly over the crinkled lines that made up Sean’s and Mary’s faces. How many parents had just lost their children? All of them dead, so Dylan could save his own.

Dylan broke his stare at the wall and looked down at the worn paper. It was his burden and his weight to bear now. But, even then, he knew it would crush him. No man could pull himself out from under that type of weight. Millions of lives lost, and each and every one of those souls was on him. He barely recognized the knock at the door, and it wasn’t until Moringer was standing in front of him with his hand on Dylan’s shoulder that he understood what Moringer was saying.

“It’s Perry.”

Dylan nodded, and Moringer walked out, leaving Dylan circling the faces of his children with his thumb in silence.
For them. Keep going for them.
Dylan pushed himself off the edge of the bed and followed the guards that escorted him to a room where the laptop waited with Perry’s signal.

A calmness washed over Dylan like an eerie fog over a lake at dawn. His mind had quieted, and when he moved his arms and legs, they felt like they moved in slow motion, yet when he looked down at them they were moving at a normal speed.

“Captain,” Perry said, once Dylan had answered. “You look tired. Have you been sleeping all right?”

Dylan remained quiet and watched Perry’s face offer the façade of sympathy and concern. It was all part of Perry’s sick game. The psychology, the mental torture that had stretched his mind to its limits, pushed him beyond what any normal human being should be allowed to handle.

Perry leaned in close to the camera on his computer. “Well, perhaps you just need a change of scenery. From what I’ve seen so far of the people who have you captive, I don’t feel like my demands are being taken seriously, but perhaps I was asking too much.”

“You knew exactly what you were asking for. Just like you know what you’re going to ask now. But whatever endgame you have planned, whatever you think you’re going to accomplish, you won’t win.”

“And why’s that?”

“You’ve tried to control too much, and you’ll slip up. You’ll overlook something small, something you didn’t believe to be important.”

“Pride comes before the fall, doesn’t it, Captain? Well, be that as it may. I want to still give you a fighting chance. Perhaps this will be your opportunity. Rising to the occasion to vanquish me. Tell your captors that in place of withdrawing their troops from around the world, I’ll accept you and Kasaika.”

No feeling of shock or fear gripped Dylan, simply an acceptance that this was what Perry had wanted. This was the price of all the debts Dylan had accumulated over the past weeks. The moment he went into Perry’s custody, he would die. But if he could get close enough, he might be able to save what was left of his soul and his family. “Okay, Perry. I’ll see you soon.”

***

The pain had mostly subsided, with the exception of any sharp movements of his shoulder, knee, or lower back. Kasaika paced around the cell like an old man without a cane. He chose to walk rather than sit. The pain reminded him that he was alive. He needed that pain; it fueled him.

But when Kasaika’s cell door opened and he was hauled away, he believed that life was going to be taken from him. They’d finally decided to end it, and while he knew that fate was inevitable and he’d accepted that long ago, the burning desire for revenge still glowered in his heart.

The guards tossed him into a room, barren of furniture and decorations, but white with the false light of a shopping mall that blinded his eyes. Kasaika stumbled around until his hand found one of the walls, and he used it to prop himself up.

“Hello, Kasaika.”

Kasaika whipped around, his eyes still adjusting to the light, but he recognized Dylan’s voice. “Is this who they send to finish me? A traitor to kill a murderer?”

Dylan’s body finally came into view. “I didn’t kill anyone. That debt is on you.”

“Negligence is not an excuse in your country, unless you have something better to offer your captors.” Kasaika spit on the ground. “And I would guess that’s why you’re here.”

“Perry set off a nuke in San Francisco.”

Kasaika froze, unsure if the boat captain was telling the truth.
Had he done it?
Had his people finally succeeded in paying back the infidels for Egyptian suffering all those years? When the captain showed him the images of the aftermath, he had his evidence. “Why would you tell me this?”

Dylan kept a phone in his hand. “To build trust, because what I’m about to tell you now is important. The CIA found the old warehouse where you and the rest of your men were hiding out. There were a few bodies there, marked and buried out back. One of them was your brother-in-law. Sefkh.”

The slight twinge of pain that flashed across Kasaika’s face was the only emotion he would let the infidel see. “He is with Allah now, in a far better place.”

“Perry killed him.”

Kasaika’s control over his expressions melted away as his face grimaced at the news. “Lies.” It was all a ploy to try and get more information from him.

Dylan extended the phone so Kasaika could see for himself. Kasaika slowly reached out his hand and took the device. The first image on the screen was Sefkh’s body. His skin was dirty and pale, but Kasaika recognized his brother-in-law. “The only thing this proves is that he’s dead. Your government probably killed him.”

“Swipe left.”

Kasaika moved his index finger across the screen, and a video appeared. The first shot was an overhead picture in the warehouse.

“Perry had security cameras installed,” Dylan said. “Probably because he wanted leverage in case things turned south.”

Kasaika’s finger hovered over the image, hesitant to press play. “Why are you giving me this? What does this do for you?”

“It’s not what it will do for me. It’s what it’ll do for you.”

Kasaika pressed play. The video was void of any sound. He watched the bodies move and jerk around as Perry pulled Dylan’s son out of the shipping container while Sefkh and a few of the men who’d been his comrades watched. Then, the moment Sefkh went to grab the boy, Perry jammed something into the side of Sefkh’s neck, stabbing repeatedly.

Sefkh’s body twitched and slowly collapsed to the ground, blood pouring out through his hands as he tried to stop the blood loss while the men around him did nothing but watch him die. Kasaika’s hands tightened around the phone, and the plastic case cracked from the pressure as he watched Perry step over Sefkh’s lifeless body. Kasaika tossed the phone away from him. “You think you can get me to cooperate after showing me that? I’ve watched Americans kill my people my entire life. I told Sefkh not to trust Perry. I was right.”

“The rest of your men still follow Perry, at least the ones he took with him,” Dylan said.

“They’re cowards.” Perry was powerful, and the men that had rallied to their cause latched onto that power like parasites, draining as much blood and life as they possibly could. The words of Allah only went so far in the minds of men before promises of the material earth outweighed those of the afterlife.