Chapter 17
1026 Words
THEY FOUND THE BOMBER in Cuba. Jane and Tony were on their way to the school. By the time Fritz arrived, Tony was set up. Fritz set the paperclip on a satellite photo Jane handed him—a house outside Havana.
THEY FOUND THE BOMBERJane and six heavily armed men waited. “This won"t be easy. Our suspect isn"t alone, but we don"t know how many are with him. We"ll surround the house.”
“Do you have enough guys for this?” Fritz asked.
“More are on the way, but we can"t wait. Send the rest when they get here.”
He opened the door. The fragrance of an ocean breeze drifted through the doorway. A tan, beachside bungalow reflected the sunset, and the gentle sound of breaking waves harmonized with the calm, a calm that would soon end.
Within only minutes, Captain Dolan and thirty armed men in Kevlar vests ran through the portal. Fritz told him the area was wide open. Gunfire met them. Jane kneeled near the entrance and waved them to her left.
Minutes after Fritz closed the door, Ashley arrived.
“They"re in already. Jane went. There"s shooting.”
As before, Tony, Fritz, and Ashley stood in the now-empty hallway, watching as the last light of day slithered down the granite floor. Fifteen minutes later, the door opened. The salt air wafted through with the first soldiers, who led a single blindfolded prisoner. Dolan said the surprise attack had left four men dead in the house with no American casualties.
“Captain, take him into that room,” said Major Barclay, pointing. “Fritz, get the man.”
“Take off the blindfold and take out your pistol,” the president told Captain Dolan. “Colonel, you are charged with multiple counts of murder.” The president spoke calmly to the North Korean officer, but his pointed words left no doubt what would happen. “Your diplomatic immunity matters not one bit to me. Who are you working for?” The prisoner sat motionless. “Colonel, you know who I am. I know you speak English.” Dolan c****d the pistol. “You were one of the bombers of our ships in San Diego and probably involved in the other bombing. Your government has disavowed you. Who hired you?” No answer. “Colonel, I don"t have a lot of time today. I"ll be leaving shortly. You don"t want me to leave you in their hands. You have a minute to answer my questions.” The president waited, an eye on his watch. “Do you have a family we can notify?”
The colonel blinked. “I have a wife and two children,” he said, with a barely noticeable accent.
“Where are they? So we can let them know you won"t be coming home.”
“They remain in North Korea.”
“Give him something to write with.” Jane took a pad and pen from the desk. “Colonel, the address, please. Colonel, time"s running out.”
The captive met the president"s stare, glanced at the others surrounding him, and lifted the pen. Dolan removed a large serrated-edge knife from the scabbard on his belt. “I"ll be leaving now,” the president said.
“Wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“We were hired by a man, I don"t know his name. He paid cash.”
“What information do you have? Did you do both bombings?”
“One of my teams did each. We had no other contacts. Money was left for us.” The president nodded to the soldiers, who released their holds, though Dolan"s knife remained close.
“Bind his hands. Then we"ll have a conversation.” The president sat and gestured everyone else to do the same. “We"ll be here a while.”
Jane turned on her computer"s recorder. When asked where the money was now, the colonel said, “In the bank. We were paid half up front, half when done.” When asked how the money changed hands, he told them a woman delivered a briefcase. She waited at public benches at bus stations. When he sat down, she left.
“How many teams? How many men?”
The colonel said he knew of four teams, eight men each, but he had no control over them. They had each been assigned different missions. “I only met with their leaders once. I do not know where they are now.”
“Do you recognize this picture?” Jane asked. She showed him a picture of Penelope Wise. He said no. Then she showed him a series of random pictures, like a police line-up. He peered at each and pointed to Caitlin Morgan.
“Have you ever heard of the Caballeros?” asked the president. The North Korean said no.
* * *
MILT CHELTON and his crew arrived just as the interrogation ended. “Fritz, get me home. We"ll talk tomorrow. Jane, I"ll talk to you later too. We have a link, but we need the bank records.”
“Milt, would you mind having your guys clean up this room? It"s been a busy night.”
I know. Half my guys were involved.”
On the way home, Ashley broke the silence. “Do you think the president would have shot him?” A reply was slow in coming.
“Every time I see him, he"s angrier,” Jane said. “When Dolan took off the safety, I thought he might. But I think it was a stall so he didn"t have to. Still, if the colonel hadn"t talked, I don"t know. Now they"re taking him for more questioning. No, I don"t think he would have shot him. He wants answers. Dead men don"t talk. And he remains a Constitutionalist, even though this guy is an enemy combatant. And if word ever got out … He cares about his legacy.”
“He"s getting to be a badass,” said Fritz.
“Not getting to be. He is, Fritz. I"ve said before, he"s always sold short. This is far from over.”
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