Staying Alive (6 page)

“Today,” Krueger said, drawing her gaze as well
as her attention back to him, “at 2:04 p.m., you received a telephone call from Abdul Nusair.”

She blinked, startled or maybe unsettled. The FBI had been monitoring her calls?

“That’s right.” She moistened her lips. Everyone at the table was staring at her now.

“What do you know about Nusair?”

Krueger took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the chair in front of him. Her gaze followed the movement, noting the graceful action with maybe a little too much interest. She was going to have to stop letting Darlene’s desperation for a relationship rub off on her. Fixating on a stranger’s physical assets wasn’t her usual style.

“Nothing,” she admitted in answer to his question. She chewed her lip as she considered what Darlene had told her. “Well, I mean, I’ve heard the name on the news.” She cleared her throat softly in a futile attempt to give her brain time to string together the proper response. “He’s a terrorist.”

Krueger pulled out the chair and lowered his tall frame into it with that same undeniable grace. “That’s correct.”

Claire felt like a student the teacher had singled out for humiliation. No one had made her feel this on the spot since college.

Krueger leaned back in his chair and stared at her as if waiting for additional details. She didn’t
really have much more to give him but something was better than nothing she supposed.

“My friend said he’s on some sort of top ten list.” Wait, that wasn’t right. That was the other terrorist she’d told her about. “Nusair is the…ah…most evil terrorist in the world. I suppose he’s at the very top of that list.”

Krueger loosened his tie. He had long fingers. Broad shoulders, too, she realized as her gaze traced the path from the tie he’d loosened to the tested seams of the crisp white shirt outlining those wide shoulders. Wait, she’d already noticed the shoulders. Stop it, she told herself again.

“Abdul Nusair,” Krueger went on where she’d left off, “rose up from a well-known terrorist group with cells in a number of Middle Eastern countries, including Israel, most major European capitals and far too many cities to name here in the States. He specializes in blowing things up. He made a name for himself rather swiftly, became the new leader to watch, as we say in the Bureau.”

If she was supposed to comment on that information she had no idea what to say, other than her first thought of
Dear God
. She was reasonably sure that the depth of her dismay would not impress these people.

“As you suggested, Nusair is at the very top of
our wanted list. Our agency, as well as the CIA, has focused unparalleled effort on trying to capture him, dead or alive.”

He paused, apparently to permit that statement to penetrate fully.

Claire worked hard to maintain eye contact. She didn’t generally have this much trouble doing so but Krueger made her tremendously uncomfortable. Nervous to the point of needing to fidget. Incredibly, she kept her hands at rest and tucked away in her lap.

“That effort has failed to this point. Nusair is not only a highly intelligent adversary, he is fiercely cunning and utterly ruthless. He prefers to manipulate his army of devoted followers rather than risk personal involvement in his schemes. His followers look up to him in a way not unlike Christians do Jesus Christ himself.”

Just when Claire thought nothing he could say would shock her, those words did. The idea that there were people out there who believed in a mere man to the point that they would kill masses of innocent people made her sick to her stomach.

“Nusair has claimed credit for the recent bombings in London where upwards of one hundred civilians lost their lives. Last year his followers bombed a dozen nightclubs in Europe, claiming that the clubs promoted American music and,
therefore, embraced American ways.” Krueger pushed away the report lying on the table before him, not bothering to open it. “I could go on and on, Miss Grant. Nusair is responsible for thousands of wrongful deaths. He is pure evil and no one seems to be able to stop him since he never does his own dirty work. He stays in hiding and masterminds his monstrous plots.”

All eyes were on Claire then.

Was she supposed to say something now?

“The man who died as a result of your intervention in yesterday’s kidnapping attempt,” Krueger said, drawing her attention back to him, “lived here in Seattle under an alias.”

Thomas Odem
. The name reverberated through her. She found it almost humorous the way Krueger danced all around the fact that she had
killed
Odem. She couldn’t be sure if he was being kind or was simply leading up to something and didn’t want her on the defensive.

He needn’t have worried. She was all too aware of what she had done in that classroom yesterday. Forgetting wasn’t likely.

Krueger went on, “One year ago Odem transferred to Washington University from an engineering institute in Toronto. We’ve been watching him since. To date, more than a dozen suspected followers of Nusair have converged upon Seattle.
Similar cells have formed in Los Angeles and San Francisco, as well as three southern cities and four more along the east coast. In each case, most of the cell members are enrolled in local universities and appear to be quiet, honor-roll students.”

Again Krueger’s silence sat heavily on her shoulders.

“The man involved in the horrific events at my school yesterday, the one who escaped, Bashir Rafsanjani, was a part of the cell here in Seattle?” She knew he was, but she had to say something. She needed to know where this was going and how it involved her. Every instinct told her that Krueger was going some place specific with this history lesson.

“That’s correct. Rafsanjani was a student at Washington University, as were the other two men involved in yesterday’s attack.”

Students. Unbelievable.

Claire abruptly remembered the other element in the equation—how the men who attacked her classroom were trying to gain freedom for their colleague.

“How is Hamid Kaibar connected to all this?”

Krueger and the agent sitting to his immediate right shared a look that set her on edge…further on edge than she already was.

“Hamid Kaibar,” Krueger began, “is our number-two dirtbag on that list you mentioned. Catching him was a major coup.”

“Is he cooperating? Kaibar, I mean.”

“Not yet.”

Another of those covert looks between the two men. This was really making her nervous.

“Yesterday was about getting Kaibar freed,” she said, deciding to fish for more information. “Does your agency believe that this group—this cell—has some major terrorist event planned for Seattle?”

Krueger didn’t answer her right away, but that relentless gaze continued to drill right through her. She began tapping her right foot nervously beneath the table.

“Miss Grant, we believe that Nusair is in the process of orchestrating a major event in nearly a dozen cities across our country. The Seattle cell, in our estimation, is the final positioning in preparation for that multicity event.”

Fear sank its sharp talons deep into her chest. She knew what this meant…possibly something far worse than the catastrophe on September 11, 2001.

She stared at the official emblem on the report in front of her. Then she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to know about this.

How could she go on with her life now, pretending that the threat wasn’t there? Now she knew firsthand these sorts of radical extremists were never going to stop.

That tragic September day not so many years ago had only been the beginning.

She lifted her gaze back to Krueger. He, like the others around the table, waited patiently for her to make the next move. She had no idea what they wanted from her. “Why are you telling me this?” Maybe the question sounded selfish or cowardly, but she was only a teacher. What did she have to offer that would help in a national security crisis?

“Miss Grant,” Krueger said, his voice lower, softer now, “we have utilized every asset at our disposal and we have not been able even to get close to Abdul Nusair.
Until now
.”

Claire realized that the other shoe was about to drop.

“As I told you before, Thomas Odem was an alias. We ascertained the man’s identity several months ago and that caused us to focus our investigation on Seattle. The Seattle cell is the primary cell,” he explained. “Whatever is planned for Seattle is the key, the catalyst, so to speak, of Nusair’s ultimate plan. We are absolutely certain about that.”

Now she started to see the big picture. Odem, or whoever he was, had been the FBI’s prime suspect. The most pivotal part of their investigation.

And she had killed him.

Renewed dread congealed in her belly.

“Thomas Odem,” Krueger said somberly, “was born Habib Nusair.”

Claire frowned. The full implications of this statement hit her as Krueger continued.

“Habib was Abdul Nusair’s only son.”

“M
iss Grant and I will need a few moments alone.”

The people in the room rose from their chairs and filed out, each stealing a last fleeting look at Claire as they passed.

She told herself to breathe deeply, to focus on slowing the runaway pounding in her chest. Hands clasped tightly in her lap, she stared at the unopened report in front of her as if it might reveal the answers she needed. A part of her just couldn’t evaluate Krueger’s revelation all at once even though she had connected the dots mere seconds before his confirmation. She had to take it one facet at a time.

Habib Nusair, the man she’d killed, was the only son of Abdul Nusair, the single most vicious terrorist on the planet.

She swallowed hard, let that knowledge absorb fully.

Abdul would want his revenge.

On her.

…you will die for your transgression.

“We have a very sensitive situation, Miss Grant.”

She looked up at the man, Special Agent in Charge Luke Krueger. It was only the two of them now. The others most likely waited in the parlor with Darlene.

He hadn’t asked his team to leave for no reason. He had something on his mind. Something he wanted to discuss with her in private.

Since she couldn’t read minds, she opted for her own line of questioning. “Am I in protective custody, Agent Krueger?”

Those extraordinary green eyes peered fully into hers, making her want to widen the distance between them. There was something about his eyes that made her restless or uncertain of herself.

“Yes, you are.”

Okay. Deep breath. “The FBI has been monitoring my calls?” That was fairly obvious, but she needed an explanation. A confirmation of her as
sumptions actually. She had some ideas about that, but she wanted it straight from the source.

Krueger got up from his chair and walked around to where she sat. He pulled out the chair next to her and settled into it. This close her senses picked up on the subtle hint of fruity aftershave, something fresh and natural, he wore.

He turned slightly in his chair so that he could face her more fully. Her pulse stumbled erratically making her feel totally foolish.

“Miss Grant, the moment Habib Nusair’s body was identified, the Bureau started monitoring everything about you.” He propped one elbow on the table and the other on the back of his chair. “By the time my flight from Reagan National arrived at Sea-Tac International, I already knew what flavor of ice cream you prefer.”

If his intent was to intimidate, he had succeeded on a grand scale.

“Why would you need to know so much about me?” The idea that he knew about her past, all of it, made her want to squirm, but she wouldn’t. She was one of the victims here. She wasn’t the bad guy.

This close she could see the darker, almost black, inner circles around his irises. The slightest crinkling around his eyes suggested he’d likely seen the last of his early thirties. Thirty-five
or-six perhaps. That he was incredibly charismatic made bad matters way worse. She didn’t want to notice any of this.

This was not the time to be needy and hopeful.

“Whether you know it or not,” Krueger said, his voice low and quiet, lacking the intimidation factor this time, “Miss Grant, you are now the linchpin of our ongoing investigation. For all intents and purposes you’re our ace in the hole.”

How could she be a key player in this? If anything she was a target for terrorists. Her stock quotient had bottomed out in any trading market other than one that was very black and very lethal.

“I don’t know anything, Agent Krueger. The terrorists didn’t say anything during the time they held us in that classroom. As much as I’d like to, how could I possibly help your investigation?”

For three or four frantic beats of her heart he studied her, looked so deeply into her eyes she could scarcely breathe. Why did he do that?

“Abdul Nusair had only one son.”

Yes, they had established that fact already. She didn’t say as much since she didn’t want to antagonize the man.

“Nusair isn’t a young man. He fathered a half dozen daughters before getting the son he wanted. He’s well into his sixties now. He had high hopes for his son. Hopes that included his carrying
their cause into the next generation. This loss is probably the one tragedy that could truly devastate the man.”

As it would any father. But this wasn’t just any father, this was a ruthless terrorist.

“In all the years that I’ve been tracking Nusair, we’ve never been this close to him. Habib’s presence here in Seattle was the opportunity we’d been waiting for. Nusair kept his son underground until recently. Discovering him here was a huge break. It’s also an indication of how short our time is. Plans have clearly escalated. Habib was put in place for a reason.”

“And I killed him,” Claire cut to the chase. “I’ve ruined your investigation. Any hope you had of capturing Nusair died with his son yesterday.” She’d foiled a high-priority investigation involving national security. Talk about making her mark in history.

“Not necessarily,” Krueger countered.

It was official, she was thoroughly confused now.

“The fact is,” he went on, “your heroic measure may have provided us with our first real opportunity to take him down.”

She searched his eyes. Tried to read what he wasn’t telling her. “You’re going to have to explain what you mean, Agent Krueger.”

“Abdul Nusair won’t stop until he has avenged
his son’s death. No matter how long it takes, he will kill you or die trying.”

She went ice cold. “Is that why I’m in protective custody?” That seemed like the logical explanation, but some part of her understood that there was more…far more.

“In part.”

He sat back, distanced himself. It was more than his physical movement. She felt his withdrawal as literally as she saw it.

“We need you, Miss Grant. If we don’t stop Nusair while we’re this close we won’t ever have this opportunity again. We have every reason to believe his cells are poised to make a catastrophic move. Stopping Nusair is essential.”

“You’re not afraid that his minions will carry on without him?” Even if they stopped Nusair there was no guarantee his people would walk away from whatever schemes he had orchestrated.

“We have his right-hand man, Hamid Kaibar. I’m certain his continued silence hinges upon Nusair. Once Nusair is out of the way, we’ll get everything we need from Kaibar.”

That left the pivotal question of how they intended to get Nusair in the first place. Somehow the answer to that question involved her. She was beginning to understand what Krueger had in mind for her.

“So,” she ventured, “I’m the bait.”

The idea hadn’t felt real until she said the words out loud.

It was true. She saw the confirmation in his eyes before he blinked it away.

“
Bait
isn’t the word I would use.”

Now that intense gaze found someplace else to land. Anyplace but on her it seemed.

“What word would you use?” The cold hard reality of her fate had begun to sink in fully, kindling a survival reaction, however delayed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help make her country a safe place. On the contrary, she did. It was the idea that this man and his team only saw her as one thing, a means to an end. That part made her furious.

“You’re an asset, Miss Grant. The security of your country may very well depend on you.”

The cold fear that had invaded her body from the moment she’d received that threatening call had given way to numbness. Along the way she’d felt anticipation, frustration and even irritation. But this feeling was beyond all that.

Maybe it was resignation. Yes, that was it. She now realized the full ramifications of her predicament.

She was a dead woman…any way you looked at it.

Either Nusair would kill her or the FBI would get her killed attempting to lure him in.

“I know this isn’t exactly an optimal position, Miss Grant. Let me assure you that your safety will be paramount throughout this operation.”

That promise prompted a dry laugh from her throat. She hadn’t meant to let it escape.
Optimal
—definitely not. “I thought stopping Nusair was paramount, Agent Krueger.”

His guard went up. She noted the change in his expression as surely as she felt the disruption in her own heart’s rhythm at the idea that her options were limited. No matter the outcome of this conversation, she had little choice in what happened next.

“Do you have a problem making certain sacrifices for your country, Miss Grant?”

Fury ignited in her belly. That he tacked her name onto practically every statement he made was nothing more than a way to keep her off guard…feeling inferior somehow.

“Of course not. It’s just that I’m a little surprised at your sidestepping the real issue here.”

“And what is the real issue from your perspective?”

“This operation will most likely get me killed. Ensuring my safety will only be a priority as long as it doesn’t interfere with getting Nusair. I know that. You know that. I just want to hear you say it.”

The standoff lasted all of ten seconds.

Claire couldn’t say for sure exactly why it was
so important to her for this man to admit his real intent, but somehow it was.

“Your safety is and will be priority one.”

For another beat or two she was certain he intended to leave it at that…a lie.

“But if a choice has to be made, completing the ultimate goal will take precedence. You surely see there is no other way,” Krueger continued.

Well, at least he was honest.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Claire stood.

His gaze remained fixed on hers.

“I need to talk to my friend before…” How did she phrase this? “…before we go any further.”

“Of course.” He pushed back his chair and rose to his full, confidence-stealing height. “I’ll send her in so that the two of you will have some privacy.”

Special Agent Luke Krueger walked out of the room.

Claire closed her eyes to hold back the emotion brimming there and steadied herself. Promised herself she would not cry. She would not take this like a sissy. Her father had raised her to be stronger than this.

“Claire.”

She blinked rapidly and rearranged her expression into one of optimism before turning to greet her best friend. “Hey.”

Scanning the unexpected furnishings in the room, Darlene hurried over to where Claire waited.

“What’s going on here?”

“You were right,” Claire told her. “These guys are FBI. That call I received really was from Abdul Nusair. Apparently he’s decided to make me pay for protecting my students.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “for killing his son,” out loud.

Darlene seemed to digest that information for a moment. “Was the man you had to kill yesterday important to him?” She flashed her palms in a gesture of doubt. “I mean, beyond being one of his overzealous, fruitcake followers?”

Claire braced herself for saying what she should have known she couldn’t keep from her friend. “The man I killed was his son.” She held Darlene’s gaze a moment. “His only son.”

Darlene reached for her, took her hands. “Oh, God, Claire. What’re they going to do to protect you?”

Her eyes started to burn again. She blinked, fighting the overwhelming urge to break down and cry. “They’re going to do all they can.” She glanced toward the door. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to talk to you before I have to go wherever they’re planning to take me next.”

Darlene squeezed her hands. “This is crazy. There has to be something they can do.”

Claire shook her head. She appreciated that her friend cared so much, but she was wrong. There was nothing anyone could do. “I won’t be able to attend Mr. Allen’s memorial service. I’d like you to let Mrs. Allen know how deeply sorry I am. Please tell her that her husband gave his life to protect the children.” She had to stop a moment to compose herself.

Darlene waited patiently for her to continue.

“I’ll need to be put on extended leave. I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”

Tears started to roll down Darlene’s cheeks, but, to her credit, she remained stoically silent.

“Take care of my place for me. You know where I keep the spare key hidden. If you let my flowers die I’ll be seriously unhappy.”

Darlene laughed, the sound sort of pitiful. “You know I will.”

Claire nodded. “I know I can count on you.” She inhaled a deep, bolstering breath. This was where things got tricky. “In my bedroom, under the mattress, there’s a diary I keep.”

“A diary?” Darlene’s watery eyes went wide with glee. “You shouldn’t have told me about that. You know I’ll have to read it.”

Claire bit down on her lower lip when it trembled. Don’t lose it yet, she ordered. “The…ah…diary is for my sister.”

All signs of amusement vanished from her friend’s face. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“We don’t exactly keep in touch. Just make sure she gets the diary if…things…well, you know if they stick me in some witness protection program where I can’t contact anyone in my former life.” She pushed a smile into place. “That happens all the time in the movies. Her name and address is inside the front cover.”

“What is it you’re not telling me?”

Darlene stared at Claire, her suspicion mounting.

“Don’t be paranoid.” Claire laughed, a painful sound not much better than the one Darlene had made moments ago. “You know me, I’m just covering all my bases. You know how anal I am.”

Darlene still wasn’t convinced. Claire could see the questions in her eyes.

“”Don’t lie to me, Claire. What’s really going on?”

“Miss Grant. Miss Vernon.”

Claire tensed as Agent Krueger entered the room. She’d known he would be listening. That whole line of bull about the privacy had been just that, bull. Either that or the man had damned good timing.

“I apologize, Miss Vernon, but we’re going to have to be going now. Agents Nance and Goldbach will take you home.”

“Where is Claire going?” Darlene demanded, staring straight into those intense green eyes. “I want your assurance that she’s going to be well protected.”