Enemy Among Us-A Jordan Wright Thriller (24 page)

BOOK: Enemy Among Us-A Jordan Wright Thriller
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His Uncle Mustafa appeared anxious. Aziz took that to mean that they would be underway soon. He was surprised at how Mustafa had dealt with Kamal, since Aziz had liked Kamal. As Aziz looked over his directions and the map itself, he would stop and think of asking Kamal a question or an opinion, only to remember the Kamal was no longer there. He thought Kamal was the smartest of all of them, seeming to always know the answers to the questions Mustafa would ask. Kamal was quick to figure out how to fix things or come up with an alternative which allowed them to be successful. He would have been of great value.

Aziz focused on the other cousins who would be part of his team. For the most part, he felt he’d have the strongest group. His only worry was with a couple of his youngest cousins. It wasn’t that their support wouldn’t be there, because they would go along with whatever the group was doing. He was more concerned about their ability to keep up with the others and to stay focused when things would get crazy. Aziz had no doubt that things were going to get crazy.

Chapter Forty-Two

 

Jordan returned to the command post the next morning. He’d spent what sleep time he could at a hotel in Center City that they were using to grab rest. He’d slept for almost four and half hours but, more importantly, he’d gotten a good hot breakfast of oatmeal, poached eggs and bacon — what he called his “breakfast of champions.” His special breakfast always picked him up and allowed him to face the good and the bad of the coming day. He was ready for action and wanted to move, but he knew they couldn’t because they didn’t have enough information on anyone and didn’t know when, where or how.

He walked into the post, and was immediately aware of the subdued tone in the room. At breakfast, he’d gotten a copy of the
Philadelphia Inquirer
and read the articles on the deaths of the two officers. A veteran near retirement and a young female rookie who seemed to have all of the talent and skills to be a great police officer – both were now gone. The city had become a war zone. He knew many of the people with him would know the sergeant who was murdered. Jordan was still nagged by feeling that even though, on the surface, there seemed to be no connection with the numerous cop killings, there had to be a tie. Something bothered him, usually, when cop killings happened in large numbers, there had been a trigger point, such as a trial in which suspects were acquitted even though the public was convinced of their guilt, or at other times, the cause might be a police crackdown on drugs or other criminal activity, which resulted in retaliation killings by those who ran the illicit businesses. However, in Philly, none of that had occurred.

As he entered the main room of the apartment, not many of the agents and officers looked up. Jordan gave a nod to each that did because, he knew what they were feeling. Over the years, he’d lost men, many of whom were friends. It was never easy and, while one would try to rationalize it because of the mission or the service they provided, the death was still a person who was gone. He’d found, at such times, it seemed to be best not to say anything. Words seemed meaningless.

He did want to find Kate and Max as soon as he could, however. He headed down the hallway to the back bedroom they were using as their office. William was there.

“Hey, pretty tough night for these guys.”

William turned away from the window and looked at Jordan. “Yeah, most knew the Sergeant. Top-notch guy. They’re taking it pretty hard, but they’re also professional; so, they’re on the job.”

“Have you seen Kate or Max?” Jordan asked.

“Here we are,” Max said, both women looked as somber as the rest of the group.

“Guys, I’ve been thinking.” Eyes rolled around the room. Whenever Jordan had an idea, it usually meant work for them.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” Max sighed, never knowing what tangent Jordan would pursue, but well aware that his track record was pretty good in that regard.

“These cops being murdered have me intrigued. There’s no reason, no cause for the effect. I want — I mean, I would like to ask Kate’s team to dig into these suspects. It’s interesting that they all ended up dead shortly after they committed the murders. I think there might be a link, but I don’t think it’s going to be found on the surface. I think looking into the families might provide some details.”

“Interesting,” Max looked over at Kate. “Can you spare a few people to track this down?”

Kate smiled. “If it was anyone else, I would say no, but I think I can free some folks.”

“Great.” Jordan grabbed William. “Who’s in the best shape out there that can work with Kate, but also keep quiet about what we’re doing?”

“That would be Pat. He’s sharp and he definitely would want to help and knows when to keep his mouth shut.”

“Great, William. Will you get him together with Kate?”

William nodded, already starting to leave the room.

“Kate — thanks. I know you aren’t swimming in resources, but I think this might lead to something. How quickly do you think you might have some preliminaries?”

Kate laughed. “Wow, I don’t even know what to look for and you’re already asking for a report?”

Jordan shrugged, adding, “Let me know as soon as you find anything, huh?”

Chapter Forty-Three

 

By late morning, the rest of the cousins had arrived at Mustafa’s and were grouped into their teams. Aziz, along with the other leaders were going through the plans. Assignments were being given out and Mustafa had told each team he wanted them to brief him and go through their assignments at noon.

Anyone who walked past would have assumed that Mustafa once again had his nieces and nephews over as they played games in the yard. The neighbors knew not to disturb these family events. Any of the neighborhood kids who would try to join would be politely turned away and told this was for family only. Any adults trying to have a conversation with Mustafa would find he wasn’t interested in anything but being with his “kids,” as he called them. The neighbors admired him for the time and commitment he made to his nieces and nephews, saw the respect the children paid him and felt he was having a strong impact on their upbringing. If they only knew, Mustafa had often thought, the idea amused him.

Mustafa looked around at the various groups. He was encouraged by what he saw. The older boys had stepped into their leadership roles, just like he’d envisioned. They worked well with their cousins, the younger ones showed respect to the leaders, just as he’d instilled in them over the years when they played team sports or went on activities together. Mustafa had always told them, “You listen and respect the one I put in charge of your group, just as you would if it were me.” Everyone seemed focused as they went through the activities, just as he’d instructed the older boys the previous night. Every minute, Mustafa was growing more confident in their abilities and in their chance for success. Success did not mean they would live, success only meant the mission would be accomplished.

As he looked around him, Mustafa knew that this would be the last time his so-called “family” would be together. Many — probably most of the younger ones — would not survive. Those who did live would no doubt be arrested and spend the rest of their lives in prison — or, at least a good portion of it in a juvenile facility. If they carried out their mission, not only would it be disruptive and cause great damage both physically and mentally to the Great Satan, but it would also make Mustafa a hero in his own country. He thought often of how his story would be told to recruit and motivate the next group of fighters. He was the pioneer, the trailblazer, from what he recalled of American history. For those who would come after him, it would be different. They wouldn’t have the ability to move around and have as much time to plan as he had. The one thing about the Americans was that while they failed to understand the threats before they happened, they very surely did a great deal to make certain the same thing couldn’t happen again. Unfortunately for the Americans, people like him and those who recruited him weren’t interested in repeat, they knew the best approach was to come up with something new.

Chapter Forty-Four

 

The City of Philadelphia was in shock. Two more of their dedicated police officers had been gunned down. Fortunately, both the gunmen had been identified and, more important to many of the citizens, both killers were deceased. No one really seemed interested in more money spent on trials or paid to house a cop killer. With these latest two officers, the city was again in preparation for a proper farewell.

The ceremony would be held in two days. The Cathedral Basilica of SS. Peter and Paul stood majestically at the intersection of Eighteenth and Benjamin Franklin Parkway and was the Church used for these services, regardless of the faith of the deceased officer. It was customary that Police Departments from around the country send representative officers to the funeral. This could result in hundreds of out of town officers being present.

The logistics were a challenge. With the enormity of the turnout and the subsequent motorcade to the cemetery, it became a major feat merely to move the thousands of people from one location to another. Routes needed to be planned, and, in many cases, roads closed to allow the motorcade to move unabated through the streets. In the case of Sergeant O’Meara and Officer Brown, their funeral service was going to be jointly held, but their burials would be in two separate cemeteries on the opposite sides of Philadelphia. It was a challenge, but there would also be unwavering cooperation between the Philadelphia Police, neighboring communities and the Pennsylvania State Police. The bodies would be brought to the Basilica early in the morning, with the service beginning at ten o’clock and at eleven the two processions would be leaving for their respective cemeteries.

Mustafa read with great interest the articles in the
Philadelphia Inquirer
about the plans for the Officer’s funerals. These would mesh well with his plans. It was clear the man with whom Mustafa had begun to work had done what he’d promised. With the city and the surrounding area focused on the funerals, he would be able to put his plan into motion and use this to his advantage. A smile crossed his face, the expression something which was rare. He would bring great pride to the people of Iran, and start a new life for himself.

Chapter Forty-Five

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