Abuse of Power - Michael Savage [34]
Tony tapped the tabletop. “Read the article. Says the bond is being put up by an organization called the Juvenile Defense Coalition.”
“Never heard of it,” Jack said.
“Apparently they’re dedicated to keeping troubled teens out of jail because the poor things might actually have to take responsibility for their actions.”
Jack nodded. “Better to have them out on the street where they can sell dope to school kids and break into their neighbors’ houses, right?”
“Or steal cars from potential terrorists,” Tony said.
Jack shook his head in disgust. He had no problem with the juvenile justice system treating kids like kids, but there was a point where you had to draw the line. Sure, some of them came from broken homes and had grown up in terrible environments, but that didn’t really excuse the choices they made. And when it came down to it, the law-abiding citizens of this country were usually the victims of those choices.
Jack had come to believe that some people were just born bad. These kids knew damn well that what they were doing was wrong and couldn’t care less.
So why should anyone else?
Of course, in this case the actions of a bunch of misguided do-gooders might actually work in Jack’s favor. If the kid was due to be released, that meant access, and Jack might finally be able to talk to the punk.
Juvenile court records were routinely kept confidential in California, but Jack had managed to use a back-channel source to get a name and address, and he knew the kid lived with his brother and mother at the Sunnydale projects.
He had tried contacting the mother—Juanita Thomas—shortly after the blast, but her line was a constant busy signal, and he had assumed that he wasn’t the only one looking to do a bedside interview with her son. But now that the focus of the investigation was a bunch of militia wannabes, most of Jack’s colleagues would be centering their attention on the Constitutional Defense Brigade. Which meant, if he was lucky, he might just have the carjacker all to himself.
He looked at Tony. “You interested in a trip to Sunnydale tonight?”
Tony shook his head. “I’m headed to Camp Parks to run a training session. Gotta be up at dawn.”
“So what—you’re leaving me out in the cold?”
“I’d just slow you down anyway. I’m a doddering old man.”
Jack stifled a laugh. “A doddering old man who thinks two hundred knuckle pushups on a hardwood floor are just a warm-up every morning.”
“Sorry, Jack, but duty calls. Besides, if you’re heading into Sunnydale, what you really need is a negotiator. Somebody who knows the area and is a helluva lot easier on the eyes.”
Jack took a moment to process this. “Are you talking about who I think you are?”
Tony grinned. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
9
London, England
“Someone followed me to Sofia,” Haddad said.
He had waited for his imam for over an hour. It had taken some time to reach the decision to tell him about the Turk and the whore, but once Haddad had made up his mind he was anxious to be done with it.
When he first arrived, Imam Zuabi was away from the office and Haddad had grown more and more impatient with each passing minute. He had been to the Muslim Welfare Center and Mosque many times since the day it opened, but events of late were taking their toll on him and he felt little comfort within its walls.
When Zuabi returned, the sun had gone down and it was time for Maghrib—evening prayer. So the two went to the wudu room together and quietly washed their bodies before heading upstairs to kneel before Allah.
Afterward, they returned to Zuabi’s office, and after a few brief pleasantries Haddad broke the news.
“I think they may have traveled with me on the plane to Belgrade,” he said. “That is the only explanation I can think of for their being there. But I wasn’t aware of them until after I arrived in Sofia.”
Zuabi considered this. “Do you know who they were?”
Haddad shook his head. “A Turk and a woman, that’s all I can tell you. I thought she was a Gypsy, but now I’m not so certain.”
Haddad saw no point in mentioning their night together. The