Joan Cortez had armed herself earlier and brought along the two agents she trusted the most. George Eppert and Teddy Vang sat with her in the unmarked Immigration and Customs Enforcement SUV as they raced south toward the mosque. The SUV was heavily loaded with weaponry: extra pistols, automatic rifles, shotguns, and even a Taser, if they needed it.
No one at the FBI conference had noticed when she slipped out of the meeting after learning of the location of Ammar. She’d beat all those dopes lounging around the table.
Everyone in the van had changed into lightweight Kevlar vests, covered by blue jackets with large yellow letters identifying their agency. Joan pulled back her hair and tucked it under a baseball cap. The vest hugged her ample chest. It felt hot and tight.
“What’s the plan, boss?” Teddy asked.
“Simple.” Joan glanced at him. He was small but one of the toughest agents she’d ever worked with. “We ignore this epidemic shit and go for the gold. We’ll take down this asshole Ammar.”
“You can ID him?”
“Close enough. He’s an Arab; should be easy.”
Teddy frowned. “You cool with this? What if we get the wrong dude? You know how these Somali religious guys are. We’ll get sued, and worse, get our faces plastered on TV.”
“I’m taking responsibility for this operation. If we get the guy, we’re all heroes. While the rest of these idiots are running around with test tubes, we save the country.” She rolled down the window to let in humid air. It smelled like a storm was coming. “Besides, the way the FBI treats us, I’d love to stick this up their ass.”
Teddy shrugged and swerved between open slots among the cars heading south on the interstate. He pushed the vehicle up to ninety.
George leaned forward from the back seat. “What’s the mission when we get there?” He wasn’t the smartest agent she knew, but Joan could depend on his competence and loyalty to her.
“We cover the exits and force our way in, if necessary. I figure we’ll trap the dude in there, or at least be ready to make the grab. We’ll rescue the children there also.”
“Expect any problems from the local guys at the mosque?”
“Who knows?” Joan turned to George. “Speed is our best weapon. Make the grab, secure him, get him into the vehicle, and get the hell out of there before they know what hit ’em.” She ordered both of them, “No shooting unless we’re fired on first.”
In ten minutes, they arrived at the mosque. They cruised the adjacent streets, and it was obvious they’d beaten all other law enforcement.
A long, low row of attached offices stretched along the road to their right. They were one-story, flat-roofed, with a single door in the front of each office unit. Teddy slowed to turn around the back side of the building. A large parking lot butted up to the loading docks at the rear of the offices. There was a closed loading door and a regular door in the back.
“George, you’ll take down the front entrance,” Joan ordered.
Teddy circled around to the front of the building again.
“Teddy and I will take the back side. Keep your radio channel open. On my command, we’ll storm the doors. The dude’s name is Michael Ammar. He’s about six feet, dark skin, shiny black hair, good looking. Maybe they’ll give him up right away, but be prepared for anything. These people are crazy. Once we make the grab, we transport him out the back to avoid attention.”
After they dropped off George, Teddy parked near the back door with the front of the SUV facing away from the loading dock. They exited the vehicle, and Teddy took the sawed-off shotgun. Joan grabbed the Taser, which she hooked onto her belt. She removed the Smith and Wesson pistol from the holster that rode over her back right hip. They hurried to the back door.
Joan whispered, “We’ll both go in, but if you hear the loading door open, you cover that. I’ll keep going inside.” Teddy nodded and stood to the left of her. Both of them flattened on either side of the regular door with their weapons up. The Kevlar vest dug into her armpits and hurt. After all the cop shows on TV, Joan felt a little stupid, but this was proper procedure.
She spoke into the radio clipped to her shoulder. “George—go!”
Teddy and Joan folded into the door, which was unlocked. Inside, they spread immediately and raised their weapons, announced themselves, and demanded the release of Ammar.
As they came in from the summer heat, the room they entered felt cool. Ahead of them, a man in brown robes bolted down the long hallway. They yelled at him to stop, but he kept running.
Joan and Teddy hurried after him. To their right and left, several doors opened to small rooms. They cleared each one before moving on. In the front, they could hear George doing his work.
The end of the hallway opened to a large room covered in Persian rugs. Joan assumed it was the worship area. Several older, bearded men stood in a semicircle in front of George with their hands in the air.
Joan approached and studied them. They looked scared, and all of them stared at the ground. Excitement surged through her body like a wave of heat coming up from a steaming sidewalk. She loved this part. To have people cower before her like this, to obey her—it thrilled her with the power she possessed.
“Everyone take it easy. All we want is Michael Ammar. Where is he?” she shouted.
No one spoke.
Joan holstered her pistol and removed the Taser. She approached the guy who seemed to be the leader. “You in charge?”
He nodded and flicked his eyes up to hers. Instead of fear, she saw hate and anger. That would make the job easier. Joan held up the Taser. “I’m only asking once more, old man. Where the fuck is he?”
The man’s mouth moved without opening. Finally, he said, “Are you looking for Dr. Ammar?”
“You’re catching on quick.”
“He was supposed to be here, but he has not come in.” Saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
Joan turned to Teddy. “Search the place.”
In five minutes, he returned with a group of young boys. They straggled in front of him until they reached the bigger group. Joan smiled and dropped her Taser to the side. “All right, relax. Now we’re making progress.” Both of the other agents lowered their weapons, and the people lowered their hands.
“When is he coming?” Joan demanded.
The older man opened his palms toward her. “I do not know. Usually, he is here by now.”
“You know damn well why we’re here,” George shouted. “The smallpox epidemic. Some sort of a ‘gee-had’ of yours.”
Frowns creased the faces of several of the men. They looked at each other. “Smallpox?”
“That’s enough.” Joan studied the group. “We’ll just wait for Ammar. Let’s all chill. All we want is Ammar.” When she saw their eyes darting among themselves, she moved closer and ordered George and Teddy to search all of them for weapons. Then she’d isolate them in one of the small rooms.
After the search, they herded the group down the hall and into the first room on the right. It was a slow process. As Joan was about to walk away, she noticed one of the men in the back, talking fast on his cell phone.
Alerting Teddy, she stormed through the crowd and grabbed the man with the phone by the arm. With her other hand, she slammed the Taser into his face. He dropped the cell and screamed in pain. His lower lip cracked open and spouted blood.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Joan shouted.
With Teddy holding the shotgun on the man, Joan reached down to pick up the phone. He had managed to click it off, but she keyed into it and went to the menu for the recent call. Her breath stopped when she saw the man had called Channel Six TV news.
Chapter Forty-One