The Teeth of the Tiger - Tom Clancy [111]
But it wasn't. It was, rather, the mall's security office, where sat a male employee in a uniform of light blue shirt and dark blue pants. On inspection, the man did not have a gun belt. And that was good. He did have a phone, which would undoubtedly call the local police. So, this black man would have to be the first. With that decided, Mustafa reversed directions, walked past the restrooms and the Coke machine, and turned right, away from the men's store.
This was a fine target place, he saw. Only three main entrances; and a clear field of fire from the Central Court. The individual stores were mainly rectangular, with open access from the corridors. On the following day, at about this time, it would be even more crowded. He estimated two hundred people in his immediate sight, and though he'd hoped all the way into this city that they'd have the chance to kill perhaps a thousand, anything over two hundred would be a victory of no small dimension. There were all manner of stores here, and unlike Saudi malls, men and women shopped on the same floor. Many children, too. There were four stores listed as specialty children's goods-and even a Disney Store! That he had not expected, and to attack one of America's most treasured icons would be sweet indeed.
Rafi appeared at his side. "Well?"
"It could be a larger target, but the arrangement is nearly perfect for us. All on one level," Mustafa replied quietly.
"Allah is beneficent as always, my friend," Rafi said, unable to conceal his enthusiasm.
People circulated about. Many young women were pushing their little ones about in strollers-he saw that you could rent them from a stand just by the hair salon.
There was one purchase he had to make. He accomplished it in the Radio Shack next to a Zales Jewelers. Four portable radios and batteries, for which he paid in cash, and for which he got a brief lecture on how the radios worked.
All in all, it could have been better, in a theoretical sense, but it wasn't supposed to be a busy city street. Besides, there would be policemen on the street with guns who would interfere with their mission. So, as always in life, you measured the bitter against the sweet, and here there was much of the sweet for all of them to taste. The four of them all got pretzels from Auntie Anne's and headed out past the JC Penney back to their car. Formal planning would take place at their motel rooms, with more doughnuts and coffee.
Jerry Rounds's official job was as head of strategic planning for The Campus's white side. This job he performed fairly well-he might have been the very Wolf of Wall Street had he not chosen to become an Air Force intelligence officer on leaving the University of Pennsylvania. The service had even paid for his master's degree from the Wharton School of Business before he'd made full-bull colonel. This had given him an unexpected master's degree to hang on the wall, which also gave him a superb excuse to be in the trading business. It was even a fun diversion for the former chief USAF analyst at the Defense Intelligence Agency's headquarters building at Bolling AFB in Washington. But along the way he'd found that being an "unrated weenie"-he'd never worn the silver wings of a USAF aviator-didn't compensate for being a second-class citizen in a service completely run by those who did poke holes in the sky, even if he were smarter than twenty of them in the same room. Coming to The Campus had seriously broadened his horizons in a lot of ways.
"What is it, Jerry?" Hendley asked.
"The folks at Meade and over across the river just got excited about something," Rounds replied, handing some papers across.
The former senator read the traffic for a minute or so and handed it all back. In a moment, he knew he'd seen most of it before. "So?"
"So, this time they may be right, boss. I've been keeping an eye on the background stuff. The thing is, we have a combination