Robert Tanenbaum - Counterplay

“What happened to her?” Fulton asked.

“She died of a heart attack during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War when she heard that the Jews had captured Jerusalem. The current Samira Azzam is made of sterner stuff…. She does appear to be Palestinian, although there are no known photographs of her. She first surfaced as a militant with Hamas, but switched allegiances to al Qaeda in the late nineties. She’s a born killer, ruthless, pitiless…as you saw with the children. In fact, while we suspect Kadyrov of being involved with the Beslan school massacre, we know Azzam was from reports by survivors and the one terrorist who was captured alive. She apparently supervised the setting of explosives in the gymnasium where most of the victims died, as well as the execution of twenty teachers early on in the siege to let the Russians know she was serious. How she got out of there when everyone else died is the million-dollar question.”

“But she’s Palestinian,” Fulton noted. “These Chechens are Russian, right?”

It was Karp who shook his head and answered. “Ethnically different from Russians. More Asian than Slav, and mostly Muslim. They also speak their own language but will use Russian as a common language.” When the others looked at him with raised eyebrows, he added, “My people are from the Galicia area of Poland. I know a little about the region that’s down south in the Caucasus Mountains.”

“Exactly,” Ellis said. “But the question’s still valid. What’s a Palestinian terrorist, an Arab, doing mounting attacks in Russia, working with Chechen nationalists and local Islamic hard-liners? The unfortunate answer is that these groups are networking far more than ever before, merging into one big happy homicidal family. The bigger question is, what is Samira Azzam doing in the United States helping Kane escape?”

“So do you know the answer?” Karp asked when the agent hesitated.

Ellis looked at him as if trying to decide whether he could be trusted. Karp got the feeling that Ellis was putting on an act, attempting to indicate that they were “in this together.” Karp had used this same technique plenty of times himself to lull recalcitrant witnesses and defendants into admitting more than they wanted.

Ellis looked at Jaxon, who nodded. “We’re not sure, but we do know that the Chechen nationalists feel that the United States has joined the Russian government in siding against them. They’re also Muslim, an alliance with al Qaeda seems likely. So our best bet is something that will strike a blow at both countries…or maybe cause a rift between them.”

“Any idea what that might be?”

“Nothing for sure, yet.”

“What about the Pope’s visit?” Fulton asked. It had just been announced that the pontiff would be coming to Manhattan in September for the installment of the new archbishop of New York.

“We’ve considered it,” Jaxon said, “but there are a couple of problems with the theory. One is that security around the Pope is almost heavier than the president of the United States. He’s surrounded by his own security people, and the church keeps everything very close to the vest. The ceremony’s going to be at St. Patrick’s, invitation only inside, and the crowds will be searched and scanned and, along with unauthorized vehicles, be kept at a safe distance. It’d be a tough nut for anyone to crack.”

“The bigger problem with the theory,” Ellis interrupted, “is that Kane escaped before the Vatican announced the visit. Since the escape was obviously planned for months, and these things take time and money to implement, it’s pretty obvious that Kane and the terrorists have something else in mind. We’re getting a lot of conflicting information and rumors, but with Kane, the problem is knowing who to trust, even the cops.”

Fulton stiffened at the implied criticism, which Jaxon noted. “Sorry, Clay,” the FBI agent said, taking over for Ellis. “We all know that ninety-eight percent of the department is clean. But between Newbury’s Gang and what help we’ve been able to lend, we’ve uncovered a pretty extensive network of cops with ties to Kane. As you know, the DAO has been bringing charges against those we can prove committed crimes. But it would be a mistake to believe that we’ve found them all…any more than we should assume that there are no more traitors within my agency.”

Karp silently congratulated Jaxon for taking some of the sting out of Ellis’s comment by accepting that they all had better look within before blaming other agencies. He knew that Jaxon had taken the defection of Agent Grover personally. They’d gone through the academy at Quantico together, Class of ’76, and he’d considered him as trustworthy as they came, which was how Grover got the nod when he volunteered to be part of the escort detail.

Jaxon had told Karp about the conversation when Grover asked for the job. Maybe I can get him to chat a bit. He’d probably prefer to spend his time in a federal pen than Attica. So there’s a chance he’ll want to make a deal.

Ellis walked over to the window and looked out, peering both ways as if on the lookout for suspicious cars on the streets outside. “We do have a couple of assets going in,” he said. “The first is that we have a man on the inside. He’s the one who identified Azzam. He’s still trying to work out an introduction to Kane.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Karp said.

Ellis smiled. “It is. But this guy’s good. The…um, people, he worked for before signing on with Homeland Security planted him with an antigovernment white supremacist group years ago, mostly to feed us information on their plans. We kept him there but were careful not to overuse him or act on everything he told us. We occasionally even took a pretty good hit in order not to blow his cover. Then just before this little debacle with Kane, he learned that Azzam was in the country looking to buy plastic explosives and automatic weapons.”

“From white supremacists?” Fulton asked, his forehead furrowed like a freshly plowed field. “Now I’m really getting confused.”

“Lots of people are,” Ellis said. “But there’s an old Arab proverb, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ These Islamic terrorists have one thing in common with our homegrown antigovernment types, like the late Mr. Timothy McVeigh. They all hate the United States enough to put aside their differences long enough to bring us down, then they’ll squabble like vultures over the pieces…. In this case, ‘strange bedfellows’ works well for us;we’ve managed to get our guy set up with plastic explosives and some pretty sophisticated ordnance that Azzam was looking for…”

Fulton looked like he was going to jump off the bed and strangle Ellis. “You fucking telling me that the ordnance used on those kids and officers was supplied by a U.S. agent-”

Ellis held up his hand and shook his head. “No. Sorry should have explained that up front,” he said. “Nothing’s exchanged hands between our guy and the terrorists. That’s a deal he’s trying to set up. Azzam got the grenade launchers and automatic rifles from someone else…maybe Kane’s connections.”

“Why not get the plastic explosives and other stuff from Kane, too?” Karp asked.

“Don’t know,” Ellis replied. “Maybe he couldn’t get it on time, or they wanted to shop around so as not to raise red flags with someone who might get curious about all that sudden influx of money for guns and explosives. The important thing here is that if our guy can get close, we may be able to catch Kane and nip this plan in the bud.

“However,” Ellis continued, “we don’t want our guy pressing too hard so that they get nervous. If they get wind that we’re on to them, they’ll just move on to some other target. If you want to trap tigers like Kane and Azzam, you have to stake a live goat to the ground and let them come to you.”