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Authors: Sheldon Siegel

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective, #(v5), #Police Procedural

The Terrorist Next Door (20 page)

BOOK: The Terrorist Next Door
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Chapter
44

“WE WILL NOT CONTACT YOU AGAIN”

 

Gold thumbed in a reply reading, “Call me. Prepared to discuss terms.”

A response came back immediately. “This isn’t a negotiation. Free Hassan now. Otherwise, we will begin moving into other cities. We will not contact you again. IFF.”

* * *

The young man smiled. He was amused by the idea of setting off bombs in other locations. It might inspire copycats to start blowing up cars in other places.

Betcha I have your attention now, Detective Gold
.

* * *

“I got another e-mail,” Gold said, agitated.

Fong nodded. “I know. So did I.” He was staring at his laptop in the conference room in the basement of the intake center at 26th and Cal. “We aren’t the only ones.”

“Mojo?”

“And every major media outlet in the country.” Fong glanced at a handwritten list. “The
Trib
,
Sun-Times
,
New York Times
,
Washington Post
,
L.A. Times
, and
San Francisco Chronicle
. WGN. CBS. NBC. ABC. CNN. Fox News. MSNBC. Bloomberg.
Huffington Post
.
Drudge Report
.
Politico
.
People
.
TMZ
. Hell, he even sent it to Al-Jazeera. And that’s just the beginning. It’s already gone viral.”

Dammit
. Gold and Battle crowded in behind Fong, who was scrolling through dozens of messages from his colleagues at Quantico. “Please tell me that you can trace this one,” Gold said.

Fong spun around. “It was an encrypted e-mail sent through a series of anonymous servers via overseas routers.”

“Another bomb is supposed to go off any minute.”

“Thanks for reminding me. Send him another e-mail. Try to engage him.”

Gold set his BlackBerry on the table and thumbed in a message reading, “Please call me right away. Ready to talk now. Need to discuss terms.”

It went through, but there was no response.

“You got a trace on my outgoing e-mail?” Gold asked.

“No.”

Gold glanced at the CNN website. Wolf Blitzer held a hand to his earpiece. “We have more breaking news,” he said. “We are getting preliminary reports of a car bomb in the parking lot of a McDonald’s across the street from Wrigley Field.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter
45

“THIS IS A GAME CHANGER”

 

Gold’s shoulder burned as he and Battle led a convoy of squad cars and FBI SUVs north on the Kennedy. He pressed Disconnect on his BlackBerry and set it in his lap. He turned and spoke to Battle as they exited the expressway at Addison. “Fong’s people can’t trace the e-mail.”

Battle squeezed the steering wheel. “Not helpful.”

They drove in silence toward Wrigley Field. Gold monitored the police band and listened to the stream of emergency updates over broadcast radio, where coverage was in full-blown hyperdrive. The momentary euphoria from the raid at Salaam Printing had subsided. WGN reported phantom sightings of bombs at several fast food outlets. WBBM received an unsubstantiated tip about plans to poison the water supply. A Fox News contributor insisted the Islamic Freedom Federation was controlled by Al-Qaeda in Yemen. Twitter and the blogs were ablaze with conspiracy theories and potential threats to New York, Los Angeles, and Miami.

Battle pulled a toothpick from the ashtray. “Any chance Al-Shahid’s brother is involved?”

“Unlikely,” Gold said. “He’s still at the condo in Hyde Park.”

“What about Zibari and Raheem?”

Gold reported that Ibrahim Zibari was sipping a latte at the Starbucks on 55th, and Mohammad Raheem and Karim Fayyadh were having ice cream at the Quadrangle Club on the U. of C. campus.

Battle asked about Ahmed Jafar.

“He took a group of kids to a movie at the Logan Theater. It’s still open.”

“He could have a laptop.”

“Our people are sitting behind him.” Gold also ruled out any of the employees at Salaam Printing. They were being interrogated at 26th and Cal.

“We aren’t any closer than we were yesterday,” Battle observed.

“He’s going to make a mistake. Nobody is this good.”

The intersection of Addison and Clark was filled with emergency vehicles. The red sign above the main gate to the ballpark read, “Wrigley Field. Home of the Chicago Cubs.” The message board below it flashed, “Emergency: stay clear of police and fire equipment.” Gold looked up and saw a WGN helicopter hovering above the left field roof. He turned up the radio. Mojo’s voice was hoarse as she tried to make herself heard.

“This is Carol Modjeski reporting live from the WGN Air Force above Wrigley Field. A car bomb has been detonated at the McDonald’s on the west side of Clark. We have unconfirmed reports of at least one fatality. We have no information about the car or the detonator. An organization called the Islamic Freedom Federation has threatened to set off a bomb every hour until accused terrorist Hassan Al-Shahid is released. They’ve also threatened to take their war to other cities. If your car is missing, please report it immediately. If you see anything suspicious, please report it right away. Otherwise, please stay home.”

Gold and Battle parked in the players’ lot on the third-base side of the ballpark. They found Sergeant Vic Wronski inside the yellow tape encircling McDonald’s. Wronski led them to a smoldering Olds Cutlass, where Commander Mike Rowan was picking through the rubble.

The bomb jockey’s expression was grim. “The detonator is a two–way radio made by an outfit called Python. Forty-nine-ninety-nine at Wal-Mart. We don’t know the point of purchase. Hell, we can’t even get a serial number. The damn thing melted.”

“What’s their range?” Gold asked.

“About twenty miles. They don’t work by satellite, so there’s no way we can pull the plug.” Rowan took a deep breath of the smoky air. “This is a game changer. If he’s planted these things all over town, there’s no way we can stop him.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter
46

“THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT HAS DECLARED A STATE OF EMERGENCY”

 

Gold’s stomach churned as the mayor, the head of DHS, and Chief Maloney convened a joint press briefing in the stifling heat on the soft asphalt in front of a banner bearing Ronald McDonald’s smiling face. The mayor spoke first.

“It is my unhappy responsibility to report that one person was killed and two people were injured by a bomb set off in an Olds Cutlass,” he said. “We have not released the name of the victim. The injured have been taken to Rush Medical Center. The Cutlass was reported stolen from Ravenswood on Thursday night. The owner is not a suspect. The City of Chicago has increased its reward to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the bomber.”

Gold knew that rewards were a mixed bag. They often led to more unsubstantiated leads than helpful information.

The mayor stepped back and yielded to the head of DHS, who read from an index card. “The United States of America is offering an additional reward of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for information leading to the arrest and conviction of this terrorist, who will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. The federal government has declared a state of emergency. Please stay home unless you need immediate medical attention. Government offices not involving public safety are closed. So are schools. Mail delivery is suspended. So are all modes of public transit except taxis. Midway and O’Hare remain closed.” He looked up for an instant. “We have ordered the closure of all service stations within the Chicago city limits. We will reevaluate the situation as conditions warrant.” He put the card inside his pocket and hid behind Maloney, who stepped forward and tried again to reassure his hometown.

“We are going to catch the person who has been setting off these bombs,” the chief said. “We need everybody to remain vigilant. If you see anything suspicious, please call us immediately.”

Gold shook his head. Press briefings were necessary, but they took up valuable time.

Mojo pushed her way past Christiane Amanpour and parked in front of the chief. Her hair was disheveled, and her make-up was smeared. “Earlier today, you made several arrests at Salaam Printing. We understood those individuals were responsible for the bombings.”

“That was a misunderstanding. They were arrested for grand theft. The State’s Attorney is considering additional charges. At this time, we have no evidence connecting them to the bombings.”

“Why were you taking valuable time away from a terrorist investigation?”

“We got a tip. We have no further comment.”

Mojo pointed toward the Cutlass. “Was the detonator a cell phone?”

Maloney decided to play it straight. “No, it was a two-way radio. We are attempting to identify where it was purchased. We are contacting every merchant in the Chicago area that sells this device. We will need their cooperation.”

“Can you shut them down?”

Maloney’s voice was barely audible when he said, “No.”

“The Islamic Freedom Federation threatened to set off a bomb every hour until Hassan Al-Shahid is released. Do you have any comment about that?”

“No.”

“They’ve threatened other cities.”

“We understand. We would advise our colleagues in other cities to remain vigilant.”

Mojo rolled her eyes. “If the Islamic Freedom Federation is watching, what would you like to tell them?”

Maloney looked directly into the camera. “Please contact us as soon as possible.”

* * *

The young man picked up the two-way radio.

Here’s my response, Chief Maloney.

 

 

 

 

Chapter
47

CREATING A DIVERSION

 

Maloney was still standing at the microphones in front of the McDonald’s when the first reports came in about a car bomb in the parking lot at the Lincoln Park Zoo. The detonator was a two-way radio. One pedestrian was injured. An hour later, Gold and Battle were interviewing witnesses at the zoo when another bomb went off in a station wagon behind the original Uno’s Pizza on Ohio Street, injuring two passers-by. The bombings continued into the evening.

Six p.m.: an SUV on the lower level of the Grant Park underground garage. One person suffered second degree burns.

Seven
p.m.: a Pathfinder on the street near the Hancock Center. Nobody was hurt.

Eight
p.m.: a Tercel in the parking lot of the Dominick’s on Halsted just west of the Loop. Two people had smoke-related injuries.

Nine
p.m.: an Impala in a garage across the street from Sears Tower. Two people were injured.

Gold and Battle spent the evening racing from scene to scene. The MO was always the same. Each bomb was set off in a stolen car using a two-way radio. The detonators melted. The cars were wiped clean. There were no witnesses. Surveillance videos provided no conclusive evidence of the bomber’s identity.

At nine-forty-five on Tuesday night, the Crown Vic was parked outside the yellow tape near the corner of Adams and Franklin, across the street from the Sears Tower, and adjacent to the four-story parking garage where the latest bomb had been detonated. Downtown Chicago was empty. Gold’s BlackBerry pulsated. Fong’s name appeared on the display.

“Heard anything from him?” Fong’s voice was hoarse with fatigue.

“Not since he set off the bomb at Wrigley,” Gold said. “I’ve sent him dozens of e-mails, but he hasn’t responded. Are you any closer on a trace?”

“No.”

“Anything on the Pythons?”

“About fourteen hundred units were sold in the Chicago area in the past three months. We’re focusing on repeat purchasers. We’re also going through online sales. It’ll take days to narrow it down.”

“We have fifteen minutes.”

“He can’t buy more gasoline,” Fong noted.

“He probably has a stockpile.”

“I’m doing everything I can to help you, Detective Gold.”

“I know.” Gold pressed Disconnect and lowered his window. The wind had shifted and a cool breeze was blowing in from the lake. He turned up the radio. Mojo was interviewing Earl Feldman. The crafty defense attorney announced that his client—described as a law-abiding citizen—was distressed by the acts of senseless violence on the streets of Chicago. “Mr. Al-Shahid and his family are offering a one hundred thousand dollar reward for information leading to the arrest of any member of the Islamic Freedom Federation.”

Gold turned to Battle. “Can you believe this?”

“Surreal. And smart.”

The Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office appeared on the display of Gold’s BlackBerry. He answered on the first ring. “You okay, Lori?”

“Just great, Dave. The terrorist I’m prosecuting for murder just offered a reward for a terrorist who’s setting off bombs.”

* * *

The young man was amused by Feldman’s offer.

I wonder if I can collect the reward?

The red dot showed Gold and Battle still at the Sears Tower. The blue dot was now heading east on 26th. Silver was finally on her way home.

He closed his laptop and pulled out a two-way radio. It was time to put the final phase of his mission in motion.

He would start by creating a diversion.

 

 

 

BOOK: The Terrorist Next Door
4.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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