Abuse of Power - Michael Savage [99]
“I know how talented you are, Faisal. I know you’ve helped some of the teachers with their computers. Other students. And I know codes are one of your hobbies. I remember it from the essay in your application packet.”
He shrugged. “I know a few things.” He looked at the key suspiciously. “Who do these e-mails belong to?”
Sara fixed those beautiful but firm eyes on the young man. “Have you ever heard of a group called the Hand of Allah?”
His expression became restless, anxious. It was obvious he had. “Now you truly are frightening me. What are you involved in?”
“Trying to stop them,” she said frankly.
Jack was watching the young man’s face carefully. Nothing changed. That was a good sign. There was no, “Aha! I’ve got you! You’ve fallen into a Hand of Allah trap!”
“We believe the e-mails come from a member of that group,” Sara went on. “Someone high within the home secretary’s office.”
“What?” Faisal exclaimed. “That’s absurd! And why would you have them?”
That was sincere, Jack decided. He was beginning to feel better about this guy. Now all they had to do was get him to cooperate, to risk his life.
Sara was quiet a moment, as if looking for a way to explain it all. “Faisal, I’m not exactly who I seem to be,” she said. “You think of me as the quiet Muslim girl who works in the office, the girl you sometimes talk to during your lunch hour, but I only took that job as a cover.”
“Cover?” He looked nonplussed. “Cover for what?”
“I’m part of a counterterrorism unit. Or at least I was until tonight. The Hand of Allah hit us hard, in Paris. Jack and I made it out with just this key.”
“This is incredible,” Faisal said. He smirked. “Surely this is a joke. A prank. And I’ve fallen for—”
“Believe me, I wish it were,” she said.
“So you’re not Muslim?”
“I am Muslim, but this isn’t about religion. Religion is just an excuse these radicals use. You are part of our community. You should know that.”
“Of course,” he said. It was almost an apology.
Jack thought of all the heartache the U.S. Congress got for its radicalization hearings of American Muslims. Dammit—a lot of ordinary folks did know more than they let on.
“Look,” Sara told him, “I’m sorry to spring this on you but we really do need your help.” She waved the key in front of his face. “Will you try to decrypt this, or not?”
He looked at the floor, at a photograph on his desk, at the floor again, then at Sara. He took a long, slow breath. “If I do as you ask, who’s to say that the next knock on my door won’t be the Hand of Allah? I have a wife and young boy back home.”
“No one knows we’ve come here, and there’s no reason they should. You have my promise that this will remain between us. You, Jack, and me.”
Still, he hesitated.
“We really do need your help, Faisal,” she went on. “The Hand of Allah is planning an attack. A massive one, and that can only be bad for all of us.”
“Not just Muslims,” Jack added. “We’re talking about the future of Western Civilization here. Your own son’s future.”
Faisal still looked torn. Jack wasn’t sure whether he’d help or kick them out. Apparently, Faisal wasn’t sure, either. But then he took the USB key from Sara and got to his feet, moved to his laptop on the table.
He pushed the key into a slot and waited for the file system to recognize it. Then he called up the e-mails and studied them.
Time crawled. Jack was tired and he felt sleep encroaching, his eyes shutting. He may even have drowsed off. He didn’t know how much later it was when Faisal finally spoke.
“This is very sophisticated,” the young man said. “I have some code decryption software that might help, but even with that it could take hours to break this.”
“But it’s possible?” Sara asked.
“If the software can ferret out the proper keys, yes. But I offer no guarantees.” He paused. “You swear to me no one knows you’re here?”
“In the name of Allah,” she said.
He studied her carefully, as if weighing her sincerity. Then he slowly nodded. “You may as well make yourselves comfortable. We are in for a long night.”
* * *
Sara was asleep on the sofa, Jack slumped