Sitting to Kate's left was Sergeant Gabriel Haytham, NYPD/ATTF, an Arab gent.
Sitting next to Gabriel, to Koenig's right, was an unknown man, but it was only his name that was unknown. I had no doubt that this nattily dressed gentleman was CIA. It's funny how I can spot them; they affect this sort of slightly bored nonchalance, they spend too much money on clothes, and they always look like they have to be someplace more important than where they are.
In any case, I had been feeling a little empty since I didn't have Ted Nash to kick around any longer. I was feeling better now that I might have someone to take his place.
Regarding Mr. Ted Nash, I pictured him packing his silk undies for his trip to Paris. I also pictured him back in my life at some point, as I said. I recalled Koenig's words-It's Ted you should keep an eye on. Jack Koenig did not make statements like that lightly.
Also missing was George Foster, whose job it was to mind the store. He was at the Conquistador Club and would probably stay there for a long time. George's assignment, in the parlance of criminal investigation, was to act as the "Host," or the coordinator of the crime scene, he being a witness to, and actual participant in, the events. Better George than me, I guess.
Aside from Nash and Foster, also missing from this group was Nick Monti. Thus, Jack Koenig began the meeting by proposing a moment of silence for Nick, as well as Phil, Peter, the two Federal Marshals on board Flight 175, Andy McGill of the Port Authority Emergency Service unit, Nancy Tate, and the duty officer, Meg Collins, and all the victims of Flight 175.
We did the moment of silence, and Jack called the meeting to order. It was exactly 8:00 A.M.
Jack first introduced the gentleman to his left by saying, "With us this morning is Edward Harris of the Central Intelligence Agency."
No shit. I mean, all Jack had to say was, "This is Edward Harris from you-know-where."
Jack did add, "Mr. Harris is with the agency's Counterterrorism section."
Harris acknowledged the intro by moving his pencil back and forth like a windshield wiper. Tres cool. Also, these guys, unlike the FBI, almost always used their full names. There was no Ed in Edward Harris. Ted Nash seemed to be an exception to this rule. I suddenly had this bright idea to call him Teddy next time I saw him.
I should point out that normally I would not be at a meeting at this level, and neither would Kate. But having been witnesses to, and participants in, the events that had brought us all together, Kate and I were included. How good is that?
Jack Koenig announced, "As some of you may know, a decision was made in Washington yesterday afternoon to put out a brief statement to the news media, along with photographs of Asad Khalil. The statement says only that he is a suspect in a case involving international terrorism, and is wanted by Federal authorities. No mention was made of Flight One-Seven-Five. The statement and his photographs appeared on most eleven o'clock TV news broadcasts. Some of you may have seen it last night. Today's newspapers will carry the photos and the statement."
No one commented aloud, but the expressions on everyone's face said, "It's about fucking time."
Captain David Stein asserted his co-commandership and stood unbidden by King Jack. Captain Stein announced, "We will set up an Incident Command Center on the twenty-sixth floor. Everyone who is assigned to this case will move themselves and their pertinent files there. Everything associated with this case will be in, or come through, the ICC-files, photos, maps, charts, leads, evidence, interview transcripts-the whole nine yards. Until further notice, there are only three places that the ATTF people will be-in the ICC, in bed, or out in the field. Don't spend too long in bed." He looked around the room and added, "Anybody who needs to go to the funerals can go. Questions?"
No one seemed to have any questions, so he continued, "The Mideast section will have fifty ATTF agents directly assigned to this case, from all law enforcement agencies who make up our task force. Another hundred or so men and women will be attached to the case in the New York metropolitan area, plus there are hundreds of other agents working this case in the U.S. and abroad." And so on.
Next up to bat was Lieutenant Mike O'Leary of the NYPD Intelligence Unit. He spoke a few words about Nick Monti, who was an Intell guy, and in true Irish tradition, told a funny Nick Monti anecdote, which he probably made up.
There aren't that many municipal police forces with their own intelligence organizations, but New York City, home to every weirdo political movement on the planet, needs such an outfit.
The NYPD Intelligence Unit was founded during the Red Scare, and they used to hound and harass the local commies, who actually liked being persecuted by the cops. No one else paid any attention to them except the FBI.
The old Red Squad morphed into what it is today, and they're not bad at what they do, but they have limitations. Also, they don't really like the ATTF, which they consider competition, but Mike O'Leary assured everyone that his organization was on the case and would cooperate fully. I knew in my guts that if his people got a lead, we'd never hear about it. But to be fair, if the FBI got a lead, O'Leary would never hear about it either.
Lieutenant O'Leary blessed us all and sat down. The Irish are beautiful bullshitters. I mean, you know they're lying, they know you know they're lying, but they do it with so much charm, conviction, and energy that everyone feels kind of good about it.
Next up was Robert Moody, NYPD Chief of Detectives. He was saying, "My detectives will keep their eyes and ears open on this case while working other cases, and I assure you that the four thousand men and women in my command will carry with them at all times a photo of the alleged perpetrator, and will forward all leads to the ATTF Incident Command Center." Bullshit.
Chief Moody concluded with, "If he's anywhere in the five boroughs, we have a good chance of knowing about it, and we'll pick him up."
The subtext here was that Moody would love to collar Khalil before the Feds even got a lead, and let them find out about it in the morning papers.
Captain Stein thanked Inspector Moody and added, "I also have assurances from the Police Commissioner that all uniformed officers will be briefed before their duty tours. Also, today, the Commissioner is meeting with all the Police Commissioners from the surrounding suburban counties and municipalities, seeking their full cooperation and support. This means that over seventy thousand law enforcement officers in the metropolitan area are looking for the same man. This is, in effect, the single biggest manhunt in the history of the New York metropolitan area."
I noticed that Alan Parker was making copious notes, maybe to use in a news release, or maybe he was writing a TV mini-series. I don't particularly trust writers.
Stein said, "Meanwhile, our first focus is the Mideastern community," and turned it over to Gabriel Haytham.
Haytham stood and looked around the room. As the only Arab and Muslim person present, he could have been a little paranoid, but after years of working with the NYPD Intelligence Unit, and now with the ATTF, Sergeant Gabriel Haytham was cool. He once confided to me, "My real name is Jibril-means Gabriel in Arabic. But don't let that get around-I'm trying to pass as a WASP."
I like a guy with a sense of humor, and Gabe needed a very good sense of humor and sense of self to do what he was doing. I mean, it's not too difficult being an Arab-American in New York, but being an Arab-American Muslim assigned to the Mideast section of the Anti-Terrorist Task Force took big balloons. I wonder what Gabriel tells his buddies down at the mosque? Like, "Hey, Abdul, I busted two Salami-Salamis last night." Not likely.
Читать дальше