Foreign Influence_ A Thriller - Brad Thor [141]
“I don’t need your permission, Shahab.”
“What about your shooters? Did you give them Valium too?”
“Of course not. They’ve been given amphetamines.”
Rashid shook his head. “Just like Mumbai.”
“Have faith in Allah, Shahab. Today we will strike a mighty blow for Islam, Insha’Allah.”
Rashid leaned forward and poured two glasses of tea. “I guess you’re right. We have worked very hard for this day.”
“Yes, we have,” said Jarrah, accepting his glass and setting it down to cool.
They were quiet for several moments, each man pondering what was soon to happen. It was Marwan who eventually broke the silence. “I want you to know something.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to know that I believe in you.”
“Let’s not go down this road again, Marwan. Okay?” said Rashid. “I’ve got enough on my mind already.”
The man raised his hand. “I’m telling you the truth. Sheik Aleem has gone to Los Angeles to prepare the next attack. He wants you to go to New York.”
“Are you serious?”
Marwan smiled. “Yes.”
Rashid thought about that. “You know after today, it’s going to be nearly impossible to pull off the same kind of attack.”
“With Allah’s help, nothing is impossible,” replied Jarrah, “but Sheik Aleem and I agree with you, which is why the next attacks have been designed to be different.”
Rashid leaned forward. “How different?”
“Airplanes will rain from the sky. Radiation and a plague will infect the infidel populations. They will know terror like they have never known before.”
“And what about the cells? Are they already in place?”
“Everything is ready and waiting. Sheik Aleem has prepared a communications protocol that—” Jarrah’s voice trailed off as his eyes shifted to his television monitor.
“What is it?” asked Rashid.
“Someone is in the store.”
The younger man pulled out his pistol. “How many? Where did you see them?”
“On the first floor of the showroom. The west wall near the stairs to the—”
“Down here to the basement,” said Rashid as he leapt up. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”
As he stepped into the cinder block hallway, he heard a shout. Seconds later, automatic weapons fire began.
CHAPTER 70
Vaughan, Davidson, and Levy had no idea where they’d been moved to after being captured and tortured—or in Levy’s case shot—at the mosque. They knew it was a basement room somewhere, but that was it.
As far as why they had been placed at Mohammed Nasiri’s apartment, Vaughan had only been able to pick up bits and pieces, but thought that maybe they were going to be used to draw in a bunch of police officers and then their vests would be detonated in hopes of killing as many as possible.
The only other information the men could contribute was in regard to the TATP they thought the terrorists were going to use and what Mohammed Nasiri and the other men they had seen looked like.
It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it became a large part of Harvath’s decision to hit Marwan Jarrah’s place of business. With all of the activity, it was obvious that the attack was about to happen. But what had cinched it for Harvath was the camera at Nasiri’s apartment. Even fully charged, it would run for only so long. Whatever the Chicago cell had planned, it was going to happen very soon. Harvath had decided they couldn’t wait any longer.
Though Levy had taken two clean, in-and-out gunshot wounds to the shoulder and someone had done a fair job of patching him up, he was still going to need to see a doctor. Davidson and Vaughan had been roughed up pretty good as well. Vaughan had suffered a broken wrist, and both of Davidson’s eyes were so swollen he could barely see out of them.
“You three need medical attention,” said Harvath.
“The hell with that,” said Davidson. “We’re going with you.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
When the Public Vehicles officer didn’t answer, Harvath replied, “I thought so.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Davidson replied as he flipped Harvath the bird.
“I agree,” said Vaughan. “The hospital can wait. We want to help take these guys down.”
Harvath took the officer aside and quietly said, “Listen, your