Collateral Damage - Marc Cerasini [5]
The other end held a house of worship, by far the most luxurious structure in the place: prefabricated steel with a resin facade sculpted to look like a Middle Eastern mosque, complete with a metal-framed minaret.
The mosque was no surprise to Holman because the settlement had been founded by Ali Rahman al Sallifi, an Islamic cleric with ties to radical elements in Pakistan and Egypt — and it had been on CTU's watch list since the agency was established.
Unfortunately, most of the "watching" of Kurmastan had been done by satellite. Things had changed about a month earlier, when Brice Holman's own boss, the Northeast District Director, ordered any active investigation of this compound to cease. The unit had limited resources, Holman was told, and they were needed elsewhere.
Holman privately disagreed. Just before he'd been ordered to stop investigating Kurmastan, a well-connected activist group had begun loudly leveling "profiling" charges on Executive Branch agencies, and Holman suspected the decision to give Kurmastan a wide berth was at least partly political.
Deciding to have a look for himself, Holman had driven out to the compound, watching it for an entire weekend. During that time, he encountered an FBI agent who'd also been watching the place, and had received a similar command from his own boss in Washington.
It wasn't unusual for FBI surveillance units to trip over CTU in the field. Agents occasionally even shared information, sidestepping the current "wall" between agencies.
When Holman met Jason Emmerick of the FBI, that's exactly what had happened. The two agents silently agreed to disregard the law prohibiting them from swapping intel. All by themselves, they connected the dots on "Meccaville," and a frightening picture began to emerge.
Both men had observed military-style exercises, including weapons training and obstacle courses. There was suspicion of stockpiled armaments and chatter between residents of the compound and parties in Pakistan and Afghanistan.
Holman and Emmerick came up with a plan to continue watching the "Meccaville" compound, in violation of their superiors' directives. And surveillance chatter soon suggested something was about to go down. Something big. Unfortunately, the agents were still lacking hard evidence to prove it.
Today, with luck, they would finally get that evidence.
According to recent chatter inside the compound, a "package" from Canada was expected to arrive at Newark Airport. Holman and Emmerick believed the arrival of this "package" was the key to setting off whatever powder keg the men inside this compound had primed.
An hour earlier, two African-American males had left this compound to "pick up the package." One of the men was bald; the other wore his hair in long cornrow braids. Both were in their early thirties, clad in blue suits.
Holman recognized the bald man as a former gang-banger from Jersey City. His name was Montel Tanner, or at least it used to be. Holman didn't know what Tanner called himself now that he'd found religion. The other man, with the cornrows, Holman hadn't seen before.
Each of these men had slipped behind the wheel of a brand-new black Hummer and took off. Jason Emmerick and his partner took off, too, tailing the two Hummers.
Holman was so certain something major was about to happen, he'd finally briefed his own CTU Deputy Director, Judith Foy, on their rogue operation. Now Judy was on board, too, and due to hook up with Emmerick and his partner at the airport to aid in the surveillance.
Meanwhile, Holman had positioned himself on a hill above the compound. He'd been staked out here since the wee hours of the morning. As a breeze rippled the grass, stirring his black tangle of hair, he lowered his micro-binoculars and shook his canteen.
Empty.
Thirsty and hot, Holman was about to return to his vehicle for a refill when a flash