Author Archives: Barry Kelly

By the time Kelly drove past the exit to downtown Richmond, Kathy had already been on the ground working for hours. After identifying herself to airport security, an electric car took her out to the forensic team in the parking lot. She didn’t know any of the team. It was obvious they had taken their briefing seriously. Their only question, was she the agent who found the Professor in Myrtle Beach. Kathy said, “Yes, now what can you tell me?”

Jackson, the team leader said, “We found his prints and some hairs on the headrest that should give us DNA. No documents, papers, maps, rental agreements or even food wrappers were found in the car. From the time he left the hotel in Myrtle Beach until he pulled into the parking lot, according to parking lot cameras, four days ago, Friday at 1:25 PM, the timeline indicates no stops along the way. He probably stayed within the speed limit. At 60 mph the driving time matches the time available between his departure and arrival here. He didn’t use the car phone and the nav system is not like Onstar. We cannot back-track his movement. We found some slight scratches on the back of the mirror that may have held a rental sticker. We’re running the VIN number against a number of databases and should have something soon. We know where he’s been but don’t have a clue to where he went in Richmond, and we are not likely to find any clues to his current whereabouts in this car.

“We haven’t worked the airport camera coverage. Our very clear instructions were to leave that to you. We’ll hang around Richmond until you clear us to go back to Washington. We’re putting up at the Jefferson. If you need us, one of us will be on call in the hotel. We haven’t checked in yet, but I’ll give you my cell number. I’ll be listed under Bill Jackson in the hotel records.”

Kathy thanked the crew and turned and walked back to her security-provided jitney and driver. The driver took her back to the Chief of Security, Oscar Connor. Kathy said, “Before we check passengers on every flight leaving here to anywhere during a four-hour period. I have some very clear photos of the wanted man and a definite time period. Using our deduced time, standard facial recognition software and your judgment of what route he would have taken from his car in the lot to a plane or exit, we should be able to find him. Can you spare a couple of your best people to help me?”

“Sure can, and I’m one of them. Let’s get started. Grab a cup of fresh coffee, and we’ll head down to the monitor room. My assistant will join us there.”

Kathy outlined the problem to the monitoring supervisor. “A green Passat entered the parking lot last Friday at 1:25 PM. I need you to determine the routes from his parking spot to buying a ticket, boarding a plane or exiting the airport. Then, using a timeline, narrow the video search. I have a clear photo of the man to enter into your facial recognition program. Is that enough for you to get started?”

“Yes, that’s a lot more than we usually get. Give me a few minutes to lay out probable routes and to get the photo scanned into our search parameters.”

In ten minutes the supervisor was ready to go. He found the car entering the lot immediately and was able to follow it to its current position. The image of the man exiting the car wasn’t good enough for facial recognition, but they could follow the man walking to a parking lot bus stop and getting on board at 1:35 PM. The cameras picked him up getting off the bus. Here the facial recognition software gave them a hit. The cameras lost him in the crowds. Kathy said, “This guy is a pro. He knows about cameras. Check your imagery of the major ticketing area, boarding areas, security check processing and exits.” It wasn’t until they focused on the exits did they get another hit. This time he was still carrying his one bag with his topcoat over his shoulder and wearing a hat and glasses. The Professor could be seen getting into a blue and white Citizens Taxi. The taxi number and the license were clearly visible as it pulled away.

Kathy said, “Great job! Please make a copy of the video footage we found on our subject and give it to Mr. Bill Jackson. He may still be examining the car in the parking lot. If not, he’s staying at the Jefferson. Now I need to rent a car. Thank you very much. You certainly understand your facility. It’s a pleasure to work with dedicated professionals.”

Mr. Conner was obviously pleased with Kathy’s praise and called for an airport cart to take her to the car rental section. Kathy selected a Ford Mustang and set off for the Citizens Taxi terminal. On the way she called Frank and told him that the Professor left the airport in a taxi no more than 30 minutes after parking his car in the lot. She promised to call again after checking out the taxi terminal.

Kathy thought her outfit was perfect for playing lady cop. Faded, but not new jeans, a black tee just a little on the tight side, dark leather pull-on half-boots and a tan linen jacket that covered her SOCOM .45 caliber sidearm in a tilted holster far back on her right side. She fastened her badge on the left front of her belt, well removed from any possibility of its interfering with a fast movement to bring her weapon into play. Her inch under six-foot height, shoulder-length natural blond hair and athletic 140 pounds rounded out her image. She wasn’t above using that image to help in eliciting information. Her steadily improving skills in Hapkido improved her confidence in handling situations without using her firearm. She was pleased with the way she had dealt with Hankins without even thinking about drawing her weapon.

The taxi terminal was just on the fringe of the ‘Fan’ area of Richmond. Once inside the smoke-filled entrance area, she went directly to the dispatcher’s desk. Her badge and gun were clearly showing.

The nameplate said he was Clarence Fox. Kathy said, “Mr. Fox, I need some cooperation.”

Three of the smoking loungers crowded up around the desk.

Turning to face them, Kathy said in her toughest voice, “Go away. If I need you, I’ll call.”

They laughed and jeered. Kathy stepped hard on the nearest instep and, when the man reached for her, she pressed a nerve on the outside of his forearm below the elbow. He yelled in pain. Kathy moved closer and said, “Now beat it, before I really hurt you.”

Holding his forearm, he moved away followed by his friends. Mr. Fox said, “Lady, you are welcome here anytime. Buck is a real problem. I can’t handle him and the boss won’t fire him. You certainly took him down a few pegs. Watch your back. He’ll be thinking about getting even.”

“For his sake, I hope not. Now, I’ve a couple of questions. Last Friday at about two o’clock, this man was seen getting into taxi number 12, plate GHY 617. Can you tell who was driving that cab and where he is now?”

“Yeah, I think so. It’ll be just a minute.”

Kathy waited, looking around the room that was the terminal for Citizens Taxi Service. This must be a job opportunity for ex-cons, judging from the tats and attitudes of drivers hanging around.

Mr. Fox motioned her over and said, “Got him. It was Bobby Anderson. He’s a regular. Pretty dependable. He’s nearby, I’ll call him in.”

Bobby showed up ten minutes later. Kathy was getting tired of being ogled by the creeps and asked Bobby if he would mind stepping outside.

“No, Officer, I’m okay with that.”

Once outside, Kathy showed Bobby the picture of the Professor and refreshed his memory about the fare.

Bobby asked to look at the picture again and said, “Yeah, I picked him up at the airport. Light luggage which he kept with him in the back seat. The odd thing was, he gave me no address. Just to drop him off in the historical part of the city. He’d tell me where. He did and I dropped him. He gave me a good tip. I was curious. What well-dressed guy, carrying a suitcase, gets out of a cab in the middle of a street. I was nosy enough to swing back around and saw him going into the Jefferson Hotel. I guess he didn’t want nobody to know where he was staying. In this business you see a bunch of strange stuff. Anything else?”

“No. That helps us a lot. Thank you very much.”

Bobby went back to his car and drove away. Kathy was parked a half-block down the street. When she got to the Mustang, Buck and one of his pals was leaning on her car, blocking the driver’s side door.

Buck outweighed Kathy by 80 plus pounds. A muscular type with bulging tat sleeves on his forearms and a belly gone to fat. He pointed at her and said, “Let’s see how tough you really are. Nobody pushes me around. Gun, badge, whatever, it doesn’t matter. So if you’re gonna call for backup, do it while you can.”

Kathy said, “Let’s just drop it. I’m sorry if I hurt your male pride. It will be better for both of us if you just move aside and let me drive off.”

Buck said, “No way, bitch. I’m gonna slap the shit out of you.”

Kathy relaxed, ready to take what opening he gave her, while watching the second man who didn’t say a word and looked unhappy. Kathy thought, the second guy wants no part of this. Buck’s charge came with surprising speed. Kathy pivoted to her right and side-kicked him just above the knee, stopping his momentum dead. His intended one, two combination never got untracked. He was down, white-faced, trying not to scream and holding his broken knee with both hands.

Kathy called to the second man and said, “Take care of him, and I won’t drag you both in. Next time, you both go to the slammer, if you’re still alive. Get away from my car, I’m leaving.”

The second guy ran inside and Kathy drove off as two men came out to drag Buck inside. She thought, my instructors were right. Stay calm, don’t think, take what you’re given, strike hard and end it quick. They were also right. The knee is a weak point. I could feel his knee going. He got off easy. Lucky for him neither Jack nor Shadow was here.

Next step is to check into the Jefferson. Haven’t been there for ten years. Not since I was a CIA trainee. Doesn’t surprise me that the Professor stayed there. He is very well educated, and Frank said he always enjoys fine things, has good taste and has no trouble mixing revolution with luxury. Charlestown, Richmond, maybe this terrorist is old world. Where will he go next? My guess is that he’ll continue north to DC and places like Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York. Frank knows him and has a feel for his overall plan. Jack and Kelly will soon be in McLean. Wish I was there now. My memory of Jack’s house is of a burning shambles. To be honest with myself, I’m jealous of Kelly being in that house with Jack and Shadow. I trust them both, but that’s just the way it is, and I think always has been.

Kathy ended her musing as she drove up to the main entrance of the Jefferson. Before she checked in, she asked to see the Chief of Security. The front desk called him and he came over. Taking in Kathy’s badge and gun, he asked, “Officer, what can I help you with?”

Kathy introduced herself and said, “I’m almost 100% certain that this man stayed here for at least one night starting last Friday.” She then showed him the picture of the Professor. He took the picture and walked over to the front desk, conferred with the staff on duty and came back to Kathy.

He said, “You’re right. This person stayed here Friday night and checked out Saturday morning.”

“What name did he use while here?”

“Should I first see a warrant?”

“If you want to be uncooperative in a Federal Investigation you can insist on a warrant. I can call Washington right now and, rather than a low-key inquiry, they will flood the hotel with agents, close off the room he used and question staff and guests. Is that what you want?”

“No need to threaten the hotel.”

“Excuse me! That was not a threat. Read promise. I’m tired. You’re holding up my investigation. I haven’t even asked you how a high-ranking terrorist checked into your hotel under an alias with questionable documents and no credit cards. Check the desk and you will find he paid in cash, and you never even thought that was unusual. Where have you been the last ten years? Now, which way do we go?”

The Chief of Security went back to the desk with a worried look on his face. When he came back he said, “The man you want registered under the name Harold Hollingsworth, and he did pay his bill in cash.”

“Okay. Now I want a copy of everything he signed, including his bill. Also I want to question everyone with whom he had contact on the hotel staff. If the room he used is empty, I’ll need to see it. How did he leave the hotel? Did he have a car? Call a taxi? Did the doorman call the taxi? Can you make all that happen?”

“Yes, I can, and I’m sorry we got off to a bad start. Can we start over?”

Kathy smiled and said, “Of course.”

The room hadn’t been occupied since Harold Hollingsworth checked out. Realizing it would probably be a wasted effort, Kathy called the forensic team in to search the room. They were all booked in the Jefferson and were in the room in 15 minutes. Kathy briefed them and then left to interview the housekeeping staff and doorman. The interview of the housekeeping staff only revealed that Hollingsworth was a pleasant man who tipped well and took dinner the day he checked in and breakfast the next morning in his room.

Her interview with the doorman was slightly more productive. The doorman told Kathy he remembered the man in the photo. He turned down his offer to call a cab just after nine o’clock in the morning and walked down the street carrying his bag. Just before he turned the corner at the end of the block, he flagged a cab. When Kathy questioned him about the cab, he said it was one of those blue Citizens Taxis. Kathy thanked him and had the doorman call for her Mustang.

She knew exactly where the taxi terminal was, and 15 minutes later walked into the reception area to see Mr. Fox. The word had spread. The loungers in the drivers’ area got quiet, and Mr. Fox stood up when he saw her come in.

Kathy said, “Good morning, Mr. Fox. I have a few more questions. Can you help me?”

“Yes! Of course I can help you, Officer. What do you need?”

She showed him the same picture and said, “This man got into one of your taxis about 9:00 AM last Saturday on the corner of West Franklin Street and North Jefferson. I want to talk to the driver.”

Mr. Fox checked his aged PC and said, “Harry Ingram was the driver. Hey, Harry, come over here. The lady wants to talk to you.”

Kathy was amused, Harry was the quiet partner of Buck the taxi driver who tried to attack her earlier. Harry approached the desk in a hesitant manner and said, “I’m sorry about that. I knew nothing about Buck planning to waste you a bit. Doctor said he could begin to use crutches in a couple of days. He still doesn’t know what happened.”

“I’m not here to talk about our meeting. Give my best to Buck. If he wants to meet again, I have a room for him in the federal pen. He needs to work on anger management before it’s too late. Now, a few questions. Mr. Fox, please tell Harry what we need from him.”

“The officer wants to know everything you know about the man in the picture on my desk.”

“I don’t know this guy. He might have been a fare. I just don’t know.”

Kathy said, “One more chance and then you come with me. I know you picked this man up around nine o’clock Saturday morning near the intersection of West Jefferson and West Franklin streets. Think before you answer. It is a felony to lie or withhold information pertinent to a Federal Investigation. Do you understand? Answer truthfully and you are home free. Tell me.”

Harry said, “As I remember this fare was walking along West Jefferson carrying a suitcase. He signaled and I thought he looked like he was going to the airport, so I stopped. It’s a good fare out to the airport and often a better one coming back. He gets in and tells me to take him to the 3000 block of West Broad Street. I drop him there. He gives me a good tip and I drive off.”

“Did he ask you any questions or did you talk to him at all?”

“I asked him if he wanted me to wait. He said no, I’m meeting a friend.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, I swear that’s all.”

“Okay, Harry, we’re done here. Thank you.”

When Harry left, Mr. Fox, the dispatcher, said, “You put the fear of God into these guys and they don’t scare easy. When you were walking up to the door, one of them said, ‘Be quiet! Here comes fucking Wonder Woman. Do not mess with her.’ Coming from them that’s high praise.”

Kathy smiled and said, “Just doing my job. Thanks, I don’t think you’ll be seeing me anymore.”

Frank called the moment they unlocked the door to the motel room. Kathy answered her cell. She started to brief Frank but he cut in and said, “I’ve been informed by the surveillance team. They are now sitting on the two shooters who left the scene. We’ve deployed a capture team and should have them under interrogation by tonight or tomorrow morning. That’s not why I called. The Professor’s Passat was just located in the parking lot at the Richmond Airport. A forensics team will soon be on it. I gave instructions that nothing else be done until you get there. I don’t have anyone else who can put themselves in the head of the enemy as well as you can, or as quickly. The investigative job you did in Myrtle Beach still has my staff scratching their heads. The know-it-all you had to deal with at the hotel fiasco is no longer with us. Go to Richmond as soon as you can. Use your police badge. Call me direct, if you run into any trouble. The contact instructions you will need for the forensics team are being downloaded now. Put Jack on. I need to talk to him.”

Jack took the iPhone from Kathy and said, “Go, I’m here.”

Frank replied, “I need Kathy in Richmond as fast as she can get there. And I need you and the rest of your team up here by tomorrow afternoon. I’m convinced that the Professor stopped in Richmond for a travel break and to change cars. He is on his way here. I know him, and this is where he can do the most damage. Early in the Iraq war, he ran several al Qaeda sniper teams. He was very good at it. We deployed a number of teams to wipe them out. You didn’t know it, but I now know you were part of this operation as a Marine Corps Officer. The record tells me that you were a highly skilled sniper and were very effective in counter-sniper operations.

“I’m convinced the Professor is planning such a campaign in the Washington area. Last year we almost caught an al Qaeda operative, known as Al Hasani. He is an exceptional sniper. He slipped through the Minneapolis Airport before we could get deployed. No question that he was there. The facial recognition software identified him. I’ve seen the pictures. There is no doubt. He will be casing set-up areas for sniper operations. I need you to also pick areas you think he might use. Your whole team will be needed.”

“Got it! I’ll need some equipment. We can all stay at my house in McLean. It has just recently been rebuilt, everything but the landscaping. I’ll call you when we get in. I remember that guy. I missed him once. It’s good to have a second chance.”

Jack knew the conversation was over but waited a second for the dial tone, Frank’s signature good-bye.

Kelly drove Kathy to the Myrtle Beach Airport for a timely route to Richmond. Storm and Lou drove back to Charleston to pick up the clothes they would need and to check out of the hotel. Shadow stayed with Jack. He would be going to Washington in the back of the Cadillac SRX. His own first class compartment. Two hours later Jack, Kelly and Shadow were on the road. Kelly was driving. Jack said, “I hope Kathy didn’t teach you how to drive her style.”

“No, I’m not as good as she is but I’ve been practicing, especially high speed passing while checking my six. She also showed me how to pick and use a good pace car. Let the pace car get the ticket is her mantra.”

“No more, please. I’m already terrified. I’m going to try to sleep. Wake me when you need a break.”

Kelly could hear both Shadow and Jack were in a deep sleep. Driving in the tunnel of her lights, she thought, I’ve never felt more alive and at peace with myself than I am right now. I’ll bet my mother felt like this. How else could anyone do what she did for so long? I wish I knew more about her. I know Kathy and Jack know more than they’ve told me. I’m sure they’ll tell me more when they feel the time is right. I feel closer to them than anyone I ever knew, except maybe Anita. Too bad I didn’t know sooner. Someday I want to trace her last mission. I think Jack and Kathy owe me that much. I wonder why they aren’t married. It’s easy to see they are very much in love. I don’t know Kathy well enough to ask her. I know Jack was married once. Maybe they’re afraid the ritual and commitments of a marriage will damage what they have. I know Jack does not have a wandering eye. A girl can tell when a man sees her stark naked, and there’s not even a glimmer of want in his eye. If I didn’t know better, I’d be doubting my own sex appeal. This career doesn’t leave much opportunity to find a companion. But if my mother could find a relationship in this life, I can.

At 3:30 Jack’s cell awakened. Lou’s voice said he saw two men at a high point on the bank overlooking the parking lot using binoculars. They were checking the entire lot but seemed to focus on the northwest corner. No cars were headed to that position, and no one was walking near the Explorer. Lou’s voice got more urgent as he said, “Jack, I see movement in the Explorer and the two guys are coming down the bank toward the Explorer. The driver’s side door is opening. The bait is awake. Storm has the video running. The two men have split up and are approaching the Explorer from both sides. Your perp is out of the car but hanging on the door. He’s seen the two men. He’s got a gun.”

Hanging on every word, they heard three distinct gun shots, then two more. Lou said, “The perp fired first and put the guy closest to him down. The other one fired twice at Hankins. Hankins is down. The only one standing is now right over both of them. My God! He’s tapped them both in the head from close range and is now running down the parking lot toward the main entrance.”

“Lou, you and Storm try to get a good description of the car he gets into. That’s more important than getting good images. Can you see plate numbers at your range?”

Storm said, “I’m watching him through good optics. I can see plates. He’s getting into a late model blue Ford, four-door sedan. One other man in the car driving. They’re headed out the main gate to Route 544. Plate number is BBC 497 South Carolina plates.”

Kathy was relaying the information to the CIA surveillance teams as she got Storm’s report, including that shots had been fired and the bait and one attacker were down and presumed dead.

Lou, holding his position, said, “I see no evidence of any police or local security. A guy parking his new car 30 yards away saw the bodies and got his cell out. He’s still talking into it. It’s time for us to leave. You especially, before the entrances are locked down.”

Kathy didn’t need any encouragement. Her rental was already headed out the main entrance. The surveillance team, deployed along 544 west, checked in and said they had the target car. The make, color and plates matched the description.

Storm called in and said she and Lou were headed south on Route 17 to Georgetown and would see them there.

Kelly said, “Where’d Hankins get a gun?” Jack replied, “A little bit of staging on my part. I put Hankins’ loaded .38 in his lap, figuring the fact he had a gun would make it look less staged. I didn’t think he would regain consciousness that soon. Sometimes little touches work better than planned.”

Kelly said, “Will I ever think like that?”

Kathy said, “I’m just beginning to follow Jack’s thinking. Maybe in ten more years. I don’t know about you. You are already in a crash course and, I think, doing very well. Jack may not agree, but the process goes something like this. Don’t close out a plan. Always stay with it and add things that improve it. Think what the plan will look like to your enemy as it unfolds. Do not make decisions until you have to. There is no rule that early decisions are a good thing. Knowing when not to make a decision is important. You will never have enough information to make a perfect decision. People, like Jack, with great operational minds, have a feel when to make decisions irrespective of the information on hand. There now, I’m sure I’ve added immensely to your education in the Brandon School.”

“I think I’m sorry I asked.”

All five members of the Brandon team were in Jack’s motel room. Lou and Storm had just arrived. While they were eating a late carry-in lunch, Jack brought them all up to date. The mission was to capture one of the expected al Qaeda team they expected to kill or kidnap Hankins. Kelly briefed them on the layout of the garage apartment where Hankins was living. He was now securely tied to his bed.

Lou asked, “What do we do with Hankins?”

“Good question. We don’t want him. The Feds don’t want him and I don’t think al Qaeda wants him. My first concern is that nobody in this room gets killed or injured. By now I believe even our newest member, Kelly, realizes it is much easier to kill than capture. Capturing a Jihadist is not going to be easy. Better to let them have Hankins than to risk one of us getting killed. According to Kathy’s interrogation of Hankins, the recontact plan calls for Hankins to be in the extreme northwest corner of the Walmart parking lot at the junction of Route 17 and Route 544 in Horry County. We need a plan to get him there like a staked-out goat in a tiger hunt. The people coming for him will be pros. They will reconnoiter the scene before committing. Their attack will be fast and deadly. I really don’t have a plan to capture one of them alive. These people will not surrender and we cannot get into a shoot-out, especially in a public place. The only thing I can think of is to hit one with a long-range shot and then prevent their carrying off or killing the wounded person, and I don’t like it. Too many opportunities for things to get out of control. Comments?”

Lou said, “My comment is, I don’t like the scenario. It puts us in a constant reaction mode. How about we stake out the scene and take the first opportunity to grab one of them before they attack. They won’t be checking out the place in force. One or two will be deployed as scouts. The scout or scouts will seek out the best observation spots and check out the overall area from there. We pick the likely spots in advance and set up our ambush. Leave your perp to deal with al Qaeda on his own.”

Kathy said, “I like the approach. It keeps us in the driver’s seat. Worst case, except for one of us getting killed, is that we get nothing and the bad guys get Hankins. Good riddance. It also gives us the option of doing nothing and following one of them to a place where the odds are definitely in our favor.”

Jack was silent for a long moment and then said, “The truth is that we don’t have the resources for this or the authority to endanger a number of innocent bystanders. There is also the problem of the Professor learning we know something of his operation. I don’t think the Feds would like that at this point. My plan is to set up video coverage of the recontact scene and see if they will provide the surveillance coverage to follow the people that pick up or kill Hankins. Kathy, please deal with your Fed friends. You speak their language. Lou, check out the scene and pick the most likely observation posts. Storm, please select and set up the equipment needed to get coverage of the northwest corner of the parking lot. Lou will help you after he picks out the most likely observation points. Kathy, Kelly and I will move Hankins into position two hours before the recontact schedule of 5:00 PM. Remember, it will be getting dark by 6:00 PM. Okay, let’s go.”

Jack waited until Kathy talked with Frank, who gave his okay and said he would have two surveillance teams in place. The teams would depend upon them for car descriptions, direction of movement and a departure alert. Jack and Kathy went in one car to within a block of Hankins’ apartment. Jack entered the apartment first, Kathy and Kelly followed at three-minute intervals. Jack stepped inside the side door to the garage with his SOCOM pistol in his hand, round chambered and safety off. He moved silently across the garage floor and up the staircase. Hankins was still tightly wrapped on the bed. Tape over his mouth and eyes. Jack checked the small apartment, put the SOCOM under his belt in the small of his back. Taking ear plugs from his pocket, he forced them into Hankins’ ears. He no longer needed to speak, see or hear. Kelly and Kathy arrived and they began prepping Hankins. Jack pulled the tape from his mouth, jerked him to a sitting position and jammed the neck of a bottle of blended whiskey into his mouth. By the time they got over half of the fifth into him, Hankins passed out and reeked of Four Roses.

The three of them carried Hankins down the stairs and into the passenger seat of his own Ford Explorer. Jack could have easily carried him down over his shoulder but didn’t want to take the risk of Hankins throwing up and drowning in his own vomit. It was too soon for him to die. Everyone wore latex gloves and there was no reason to wipe down the apartment or Hankins’ car. Jack drove the Explorer. Kelly and Kathy with Shadow followed in their own car. With all the duct tape removed and the residue scrubbed off, Hankins looked like a sleeping passenger, held in position by the seatbelt.

It was only a 30-minute drive from Georgetown to the Walmart at the junction of routes 17 and 544. Jack noted where Kathy parked and temporarily parked nearby. He gave Hankins two sleeping pills and forced another several swallows of Four Roses down his throat. Then he drove to the nearly vacant northwest corner of the parking lot. He shifted Hankins to a position behind the wheel and left the nearly empty whiskey bottle on the seat. As a last measure, Jack put the loaded .38 revolver Kelly found in Hankins’ chest of drawers in his lap to convince al Qaeda the passed-out Hankins wasn’t part of a setup. He had been in the northwest corner of the lot for less than three minutes.

The lot was filling up with after-work shoppers. On the way back to where Kathy and Kelly were waiting, Jack checked in with Lou on his cell. Lou told him he hadn’t seen any sign of anyone lingering in the observation points he located. He and Storm had a good view of the Hankins car from a less obvious surveillance post and the telescopic camera lens was sighted in. Storm was ready to video the site when the people coming for Hankins were seen.

Jack said, “Great! I’m going to wait here until you spot them. We’ll give them scheduled time plus an hour before we move Hankins.”

Jack climbed in the back seat with Shadow and brought Kathy and Kelly up to date. When he finished, he said, “We might as well relax a bit. We could be here for two or three more hours. With Lou’s experience on the street with the Bureau, he’s not going to miss anything. My main worry is that alcohol and sleeping pills affect people differently. It’s possible Hankins will surface too soon.”

The Professor was enjoying his drive north up Route I-95. It had been years since he had cruised American highways as a graduate student. Even now, he was still impressed by the extent of the national highway system. The Americans are certainly the Romans of our time. They are a formidable enemy. The sheer size of the land mass and the technical know-how of their population present great problems to any would-be conqueror. To defeat them, we must make them defeat themselves. Their own political leaders are already preaching class warfare. I believe that kind of rhetoric is our strongest ally. Rome fell apart from internal strife, so will America. I can only pray I live long enough to see it happen. I’ve devoted my life to destroying the American Empire.

Keeping within the speed limit and carefully following all traffic signs, he was now within 5 miles of the primary Richmond exit. He could not afford even a routine police check of his documentation. He had some familiarity with Richmond from the past. He liked the City and had read extensively about Richmond as the capital of the Confederacy. It was past time to change cars and this was an ideal place. His plan was simple. Drive to the Richmond Airport, park in a lot, and take a taxi to the Jefferson Hotel on West Franklin Street. He liked the Jefferson and had stayed there many years ago. There was no chance anyone would recognize him now. At least one night in luxury would be good. He had perfect alias documentation that would pass close inspection. After getting a good rest, the Professor planned to visit one of Richmond’s used car lots and buy a two- or three-year-old car for cash.

The next morning when he checked out of the Jefferson, paying cash, he was almost sorry to be leaving. After all the hiding and hard living he had endured the past decade, there was something to be said for luxury and tranquility. He was a committed Islamic Jihadist but he could feel the allure of Western culture. This was indeed the land of the Great Satan, if even he had to resist the pull of western decadence. When he got to his destination, he promised to spend more time in prayer and meditation.

Now, he had to focus his attention on buying a used car in a way that would not leave a paper trail. The Professor took a taxi from the hotel to a used car lot he selected from the newspaper ads at the hotel. His selection advertised a number of late model cars and trucks. He had been using luxury cars. It was now time for a change. He got out of the taxi at a restaurant a block from his destination. When the taxi was out of sight, he shouldered his light carry-on bag and walked to the car lot.

He was immediately approached by a salesman who asked, “May I help you?”

The Professor, using his New England accent, said, “I’m interested in looking at a pickup truck in good condition I could use on my small farm.” When asked about his price range, he said, “I’ll pay cash and want to pay no more than $20,000.”

When the salesman looked surprised that he was going to pay cash, the Professor told him, “I deal in land sales and just collected my share of a mid-sized deal and don’t want to run the money through my account and my wife’s lawyers. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, and I think I have just what you are looking for. I can bring it up or you can walk through the lot with me.”

“I’ll walk with you in case I see something else I like, and I’m in a bit of a hurry to get on the road.”

Forty-five minutes later, the Professor had handed over $21,000 and signed a stack of documents that made him owner of a white 2006 Ford F-150 4×4 XLT with 41,032 miles on the odometer. Where he was going, the F-150 would blend into the surroundings and the 4×4 capability might prove useful. If, in some way, the authorities had managed to pick up his trail, this change in vehicles will throw them off. It would take an outstanding bit of police work to make the connection between his Passat left at the airport and the Ford truck with dealer plates.

An hour later he pulled into a rest stop and made a phone call to a number in Baltimore that would be bounced to Falls Church and which instructed one of the many al Qaeda support workers to post a personal note on an obscure Facebook page. Al Hasani would see the comment and know what to do. He was perhaps the best sniper the Professor had ever seen in all his days of Jihad. Hasani had been very hard to convince he must travel to America and wait for the signal to begin his own war against Americans.

Checking into his complicated communications system that included the social media, three web pages and two blogs, the Professor learned that Hankins had placed a personal ad precisely as called for in his recontact plan. He made another call, ordering the death of Hankins, the rug merchant he never trusted, especially since he was the only person to escape the fire that destroyed two well-planned car bomb attacks. He knew the odds against the explosives causing a fire were minimal. Several dedicated Jihadists were killed in the fire. He wanted Hankins to pay for his failure.