Collateral Damage - Marc Cerasini [33]
Holman had checked into the Novelty Inn a few hours before. As soon as he got to the room, he had showered and shaved. Still dripping, he tried to call Judy Foy again, and then again, but got only her voice mail. He wanted to call Jason Emmerick next, to see if the two "packages" had arrived on the Montreal to Newark flight, but it was just too risky.
Bad enough Emmerick and his partner, Leight, were communicating with Judy nearly every day. At least the three of them had concocted a phony cover story about a smuggling ring working out of Newark International to cover their tracks.
If Holman tried to contact Emmerick, it would set off alarms at the Bureau and prompt an investigation that might compromise, or even expose the rogue operation.
Better to wait for the rendezvous at noon, Holman had decided. He could talk to the two FBI agents then.
But noon came and went with no sign of Emmerick or Leight. When Holman finally relented and called them, he got voice mail and left no message.
By one P.M., Holman knew something had gone wrong. Either the situation at the compound was exploding, and Foy, Emmerick, and Leight were caught up in it. Or his Deputy Director and the two FBI agents had been taken into custody by their superiors, the rogue operation exposed. If that was the case, they were looking for him right now.
Either way, Holman was effectively alone. He knew he had to act, had to get inside that compound in Kurmastan. Unfortunately, there was only one way to do that, now, and it involved endangering civilians who might already be in danger.
His decision made, Holman hurriedly dressed in fresh clothes and left the motel room. His destination was the Nazareth Unitarian Church in Milton, New Jersey, where a group led by United States Congresswoman Hailey Williams and the pastor, Reverend James Wendell Ahern, were scheduled to travel to the compound and meet with one of its leaders, Ibrahim Noor.
As Holman guided his Ford Explorer out of the motel parking lot, he watched a truck rumble down Route 12, heading west. Holman realized the vehicle was from Kurmastan when he saw the Dreizehn Trucking logo on the unpainted aluminum frailer.
Holman wondered if the truck was carrying cardboard containers, or a more deadly cargo, like the one he'd seen earlier. If he was lucky, he'd know in a few hours.
Minutes later, Holman spied another Dreizehn Trucking frailer roar past him on the highway. This time he managed to snap a few pictures with the secure CTU cell phone camera, including a close-up of the license plate, before the truck roared around the bend and out of sight.
With a grim feeling that something ominous was stirring, Holman headed for the tiny town of Milton, on the banks of the Delaware River.
* * *
1:32:14 P.M. EDT
Security Station One
CTU Headquarters, NYC
As soon as Jack Bauer returned to CTU Headquarters, he cleaned up and changed back into his own clothes. Sandy hair still damp, he summoned Morris and Layla to the security station.
"The bombers were Serbian," Jack declared.
Morris appeared skeptical. "Serbs working with Muslims? That doesn't make sense."
The screen behind O'Brian displayed images of personnel from the NYPD Bomb Squad. The officers were swarming the roof and ascending the microwave tower on One World Trade Center, collecting the bombs that Jack had defused.
"I know about the religious tensions in Eastern Europe better than anyone," Jack said. "But those men were Serbs. I know because I spoke to one of them in his own language."
Jack rubbed his forearm, where traces of ink still lingered. "That man definitely recognized the 13 tattoo, and took me for an ally because I had one on my arm. It fooled him, long enough for me to get the drop on him, anyway."
"Yet neither of these men had the 13 tattoo on any part of their bodies," Layla observed. "Neither did the PA policeman."
Morris shook his head. "Curiouser and curiouser."
"What did you learn from that Port Authority cop?" Jack demanded.
"He admitted his guilt