Michael Savage - Abuse of Power

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked. “You know this guy?”

“No, but I know someone who might.” He looked at Karras. “Can you download this photo and send it to a cell phone?”

He was already maximizing a snip program to copy the photo without leaving a fingerprint.

“Just give me the number.”

Jack did, then dug out his phone and dialed the number himself. After three rings the line picked up and he said, “This is Jack Hatfield. I’m gonna send you a photo. I want you to take a careful look and call me back, okay?”

He got the answer he was hoping for then clicked off.

“Jack, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” he said, staring intently at the computer screen as he waited for his phone to ring. A moment later it did, and he answered quickly. “Is that the guy? The one you and your brother saw at the Arco station?”

“It’s him,” Leon replied.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m sure,” Leon said.

Jack thanked him then clicked off, turning to Tony. He gestured to the face on the screen. Dark, Middle Eastern descent. The name next to it read ABDAL AL-FIDA and listed him as a computer maintenance technician.

“He’s the one,” Jack said. “The reason for the cover-up.”

“The Iranian guy?”

Jack nodded. “That’s why they wiped him from the database.” He paused, not quite believing what he was about to say. “The bomber was working for the Brits.”

“This has to be a mistake,” Tony said, staring at the screen.

As much as Jack wanted to believe that, the proof was right in front of them. Abdal al-Fida was an employee of the British government. And his previously deleted personnel file had been flagged to indicate that he’d been living here on a G-2 diplomatic visa. He lived at an address in Newham, London, and had arrived in the U.S. less than a month before the carjacking.

“I wish it was a mistake,” Jack said. “But what we have here is a major embarrassment to the Brits, and they’re doing whatever it takes to make it go away. Could you imagine the shit storm they’d see if it came out they had a terrorist on the books?”

“They couldn’t have known what he was up to.”

“Which makes it even more embarrassing. The guy was obviously a mole and that means they’ve had a serious security breach. Not something they’d want made public.”

Tony looked doubtful. “So they send in MI6 to clean up? There’s gotta be more to it than that. They killed a teenager, for God’s sake. And what about Bob Copeland?”

Jack was a strong believer in Occam’s razor, that the most obvious explanation was usually the best one. But Tony had a point. Had Copeland been killed simply because he’d discovered a security breach? Or was there another reason altogether?

Like Operation Roadshow, he thought.

The Home Office was overly sensitive to criticism, but would they go this far to protect themselves?

“Um, what exactly are you guys getting me into here?” Karras said, suddenly looking very nervous. “Maxie never mentioned anything about bombers and dead teenagers. Maybe you two should leave.”

Jack ignored him and got to his feet, started pacing. He needed to think about this.

Tony gestured to the screen. “Whatever the case, this guy’s probably buried in somebody’s backyard by now. And without him, what do we have?”

“More speculation,” Jack said.

“Exactly.”

“Guys-” Karras said.

Jack didn’t seem to hear him.

What if this al-Fida guy isn’t dead? What if he immediately fled for home after botching the bombing? It didn’t seem likely, but Jack would be stupid not to check into it.

Karras got to his feet now. “I mean it,” he insisted. “I don’t want anything to do with whatever you’re into. You need to get out of here.”

Jack stopped pacing and turned to him. “Fine, but one last thing. Would you be able to hack into an airline and pull up their flight manifests for the last week or so?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want to.”

“I’ll triple your fee.”

“Hey, money isn’t every-”

“What about some intel about Maxine?”

Karras hesitated. “What kind of intel?”

“Coming to you was her idea,” Jack lied. “She has all kinds of regrets and if she finds out you went that extra mile for us she’d probably be real appreciative.”

“Really?”

“Haircut and a shave and-who knows?”

He could see that the prospect excited Karras. The guy hesitated a moment longer then sat back down. “Quadruple the fee.”

“Done.”

“What airline do you want to start with?”

“What else?” Jack told him. “British Airways.”

It took Karras a while to find what Jack was looking for, but his instincts had proven right and they didn’t have to leave the British Airways network to prove it.

There was a flight out of LAX to London the day after the carjacking, and Abdal al-Fida was one of the first class passengers. The ticket had been charged to the British embassy’s travel account. This didn’t mean al-Fida was still alive, but the possibility existed and that was enough for Jack to hang his hopes on.

Twenty minutes later he dropped Tony off at his car outside Maxine’s with promises that they’d reconvene at the Sea Wrighter after he’d picked up Eddie. But as he drove toward his apartment he decided to take a detour to the Arco station on Mission, the place where Jamal and Leon had first seen al-Fida. It was nighttime; the same attendant might be on duty.

The guy at the register was nodding off, a travel magazine in his lap, open to a story about Amsterdam.

Jack rapped on the countertop and he came awake with a start. “Uh?”

“GNT News,” Jack said, showing him his expired credentials. “Were you working here the night of the bombing?”

The counterman blinked a couple times to clear the cobwebs, then hastily set the magazine aside. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was here. Why?”

Jack brought out a copy of al-Fida’s personnel photo that Karras had printed out. “Do you remember this man? He would’ve stopped for gas shortly before midnight.”

The counterman squinted at it. “Do you know how many people come in here every night? I guess I coulda seen him but I don’t remember.”

“What about surveillance video?”

The man looked up like he was Eddie asking for more spaghetti. Jack had expected that. He flipped a twenty onto the counter. The man laid a hand on it and swept it off like a croupier.

“It’s on a forty-eight-hour cycle. It would’ve been erased by now.” He paused. “But it’s funny you ask, because the feds were in here looking for it last night, right after my shift started.”

Jack was surprised. “Did they say why?”

“Just that they were looking for a suspect in a bank robbery. But they didn’t show me any pictures or anything. They made me play the video back, like they thought I was lying.”

“And you’re sure they were FBI?”

He looked at Jack blankly. “The head guy flashed a badge.”

“Did you look at it closely?”

His expression told Jack it was obvious he hadn’t.

Typical.

“What did they look like?”

He shrugged. “Like feds. What are they supposed to look like?”

“Did you see what kind of car they were driving?”

“I think it was an SUV of some kind.”

“An Escalade, maybe? Black?”

He shrugged again. “Could be. Don’t quote me.”

“I won’t,” Jack promised. “Thanks for your time.”

He pocketed the photo then went back to his car and sat for a while. He had been hoping to get confirmation that the man Jamal and Leon had seen really was Abdal al-Fida, but he’d known it was a long shot. Leon had sounded sure on the phone, but Jack wasn’t completely comfortable hanging an entire theory-as thin as it might be-on the word of a grieving teenage carjacker. Any good attorney would tell you that eyewitness testimony is rarely reliable, even though a shocking number of people have gone to jail because of it.