Waterkill (Dave Henson Series) (28 page)

Chapter 45 (April 18, Monday 3:00pm, Dallas, Texas)

Dave, along with a small Counterterrorism FBI Fly Team out of Washington, landed at the Naval Air Station in Fort Worth, Texas midafternoon. The FBI Fly Team comprising of six men, all ex-military, were extensively trained experts in conducting in and out of country terrorism investigations. They were to lead the WaterKill threat investigation with Dave acting as a consultant to them. Combined, the men spoke a dozen different languages, including Arabic and Farsi, and were armed and equipped to tackle any situation. The team leader, Brian Fenton, had previously been a member of Seal Team 6 when he served in the military. Today, he was responsible for finding and neutralizing Spencer Williams, before Williams killed potentially one million two hundred thousand plus people in the greater Dallas area.

After disembarking from the 89th Airlift Wing military business jet, Dave and the Fly Team entered the small terminal building where they were greeted by Ron. Ron had arrived an hour earlier. Homeland Security had flown him in from McCall, Idaho.

“Dave, it’s great to see you alive,” said Ron as he strolled up to Dave and gave him a big bear hug. “Thank God you got to Dana before that nut Zarin had done anything to her.”

“We were lucky,” said Dave. “Fortunately, I had help from a group of men similar to these men here.” Dave introduced Fenton and the rest of the FBI Fly Team to Ron. “Hopefully we can have similar success here in Dallas.”

“We have to,” replied Ron. “And to that point, I’ve brought a number of special treats from NSurv to help in our endeavors.” Ron slapped his hand on a stack of military style ruggedized plastic shipping containers sitting next to him.

“Great, we’re going to need them’ responded Dave as he did a quick visual survey of the containers.

“So what do you have in those containers?” Fenton asked, with the rest of his men huddled up around him. “Hopefully something that can help us locate this Mr. Williams. Right now we don’t have a lot to go on in regards to his whereabouts, other than the fact that we believe he is intent on sabotaging one or more of the Dallas water utility stations.”

“Well to start with, I have brought specialized water testing kits that can confirm the presence of the cholera like bacteria in the water. So at least we can identify and stop the flow of any contaminated water into the Dallas water supply, if Spencer is successful in deploying the bioweapon.”

“That’s a good diagnostic tool,” responded Fenton. “But preferably we want to find Mr. Williams before he has a chance to contaminate any water supply. Do you have anything in any of your containers that can help us in that department?”

“As a matter of fact we do,” interjected Dave. “I had Ron bring along a few hundred Hunter-Falcon drones specially programmed with facial recognition software to hopefully locate Mr. Williams. We used the same base Hunter-Falcon sensor units up in Alaska to find the first canister of the deadly bioweapon. This particular lot, however, has been configured to compare recorded facial images of Spencer Williams with facial images they capture while flying prescribed missions within a one kilometer radius of the various Dallas water utility stations. We plan to fly fifty Hunter-Falcon drones in concentric circle routes from the center of the stations outwards. If Mr. Williams gets within a kilometer of one of these stations we will see him.”

“What happens if Williams decides to attack at night?” asked Fenton doubtfully.

“These particular Hunter-Falcon sensors have been configured to operate in day or night lighting,” responded Ron. “Basically their nano-material mass that makes up the key sensor material in them, can absorb small amounts of light and amplify it prior to presenting the image to the video camera portion of the sensor. It works in a similar fashion to night vision goggles.”

“And what happens if Williams is wearing a mask?” asked another of the FBI Fly Team.

“Well then we’re screwed,” said Dave. “But from what my wife reported, there were no signs of masks used by him and his accomplice in Eberswalde, Germany.”

The FBI Fly Team leader seemed to be mollified with Dave’s response. He just hoped that Spencer remained consistent in his approach to attacking public water supplies.

“I brought along one other item,” said Ron proudly as he placed his hand on a double-high stack of large containers.

Dave already knew what it was, but the FBI Fly Team looked over at Ron again with interest. When Ron had all of their attentions he finally described what was in them.

“Inside these two large containers is a water purification system specifically designed to neutralize any contaminated water supply. All we need to do is introduce it between the water storage tanks and the main city water pipes. Once installed it will kill off the cholera like bacteria and separate the inert material from the water before it is pumped into the city’s water mains”

“Well again, it sounds like another water-under-the-bridge type solution, and I mean the pun,” said Fenton.

“Correct,’ responded Dave. “However, if Mr. Williams is successful deploying the cholera like toxin before we can stop him, at least we can prevent hundreds of thousands of people or more from becoming ill, or worse yet, dying.”

“Agreed,” Fenton replied. “But at this point our mission should be focused on finding Mr. Williams and stopping him, rather than on containment and resolution.”

“We’re all for that,” responded Ron.

“Well alright,” said Fenton as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road. Every minute we stand here and bullshit, the more likely Mr. Williams will be successful in his demented quest. My team will help carry out these containers to our vehicles. They should be waiting for us outside the terminal. I had the airbase operations group order us three SUV’s specifically equipped for this type of mission.”

“I suggest that we go out and visit every one of the water utility stations in order of supply capacity,” said Dave. “At each one, Ron and I will get a squadron of Hunter-Falcons airborne. We will then leave one of your guys behind to monitor them, while the rest of us continue on to the next station and deploy another squadron. Within a couple of hours we should be able to have every station in the city under surveillance.”

Fenton nodded in agreement. “There are six stations around the city. If Ron can stay behind and man one of the stations, you and I can act as floaters ready to act as first responders when Williams shows his face.”

“That works for me,” said Ron.

“Likewise,” responded Dave.

After loading up the three SUV’s Dave and Ron rode with Fenton and one other member of his team in the lead vehicle. The other four men divided up evenly in the two remaining SUVs. As they drove to the largest utility station located north of downtown Dallas, Fenton received a phone call. After listening for a minute to the person on the other end of the line he hung up. He turned to Dave and Ron who were in the backseat.

“While we were in the air, I sent out a request to all police jurisdictions along the Texas/Mexico border to send me any reports of stolen vehicles in the last twenty four hours. It turns out a blue Chevy Cobalt was stolen sometime last night in the town of Granjeno, Texas. The town is notorious for border crossings, as the Rio Grande is shallow and narrow there, and there is no fence or wall to have to jump over. Suffice it to say, Granjeno is a prime candidate for someone like Mr. Williams to cross over into the United States undetected.”

“So we need to be on the lookout for a blue Cobalt,” said Ron.

“That was Dallas police headquarters. They’ve already initiated a city wide all-points bulletin for the vehicle. If it’s in this town, and not buried in a garage or hole, we should be able to locate it.”

“And hopefully Mr. Williams will be sitting in it,” responded Ron.

“And if not that, at least we may find some evidence on where he’s headed,” said Fenton.

Over the next two hours the Hunter-Falcons were deployed at all of Dallas’s water utility stations, and each one manned by one of the team members and Ron. However, there had still not been any report from the Dallas police about the blue Chevy Cobalt.

With all their bases covered, Dave suggested to Fenton that they may want to patrol the areas near the largest two water stations. As they cruised the area in between the two stations Fenton commented, “We don’t know how many canisters of the cholera toxin Spencer has. It is possible he may have partners that could attempt to contaminate multiple water supplies simultaneously.”

“I suspect Spencer is working on his own,” said Dave. “From what my wife explained to us in Washington, he seems to have his own personal vendetta against the United States due to the unfortunate death of his wife years ago, at the hands of the U.S. government I might add. He also had plans to kill his accomplice in Turkey, but my wife beat him to the punch.”

Fenton looked over at Dave for a second, surprised by his last revelation.

“Though Spencer is Muslim, and certainly had a relationship with Aref Zarin and his extended Al Qaeda team, I think he is more of a lone wolf if you will, focused on settling his own personal score, rather than so much for the bigger cause of Al Qaeda.”

“Interesting Intel and perspective,” responded Fenton. “A lone wolf, though dangerous in his own right, is an easier issue to deal with than a whole team of Al Qaeda members attacking a set of targets, as was the case in 9/11.”

“So hopefully if we can find and neutralize him, we can at least put an end to this immediate threat,” said Dave.

Fenton’s phone started to ring again. While steering with his left hand he pulled his phone out of his shirt breast-pocket with the other and hit the answer button. After a twenty second call, he hung up and looked over at Dave.

“They found the blue Cobalt. It’s only about four blocks from here. The Dallas police is saying we need to come have a look.”

Chapter 46 (April 18, Monday 4:00pm, Dallas, Texas)

After stopping into a sporting goods store to pick up a pair of wet-suit boots and a dry sack, Ahmad cruised the northwest streets of Dallas looking for a place to find a replacement set of wheels. He knew he had already been pressing his luck driving the Cobalt around Dallas much of the day. Finally, after searching for nearly fifteen minutes, he found what he was looking for. It was a large grocery store parking lot, target rich with potential replacement vehicles. But what made the location so attractive to him was the fact that there was a remote Chinese restaurant building near the grocery store facility that had very little patronage at the moment. It was too early for dinner and well past the lunchtime crowd. The grocery store parking lot also encompassed the Chinese restaurant building and a large empty field bordered the back of the restaurant. Nice and private, thought Ahmad.

Ahmad glanced over to his right. Barak had been sitting pretty much comatose the entire time he had been in the vehicle, ever since they completed the recon of the water utility station.

“You feel like Chinese?” asked Ahmad.

              Barak turned to him and said, “I’m not really hungry.”

              “Well I am, and we’re going to be busy for the next several hours. We’re stopping in.”

              Barak did not respond.

              Ahmad drove into the large shopping plaza parking lot and headed for the separate Chinese restaurant building. However, instead of parking at one of the many open parking spaces in front of the restaurant he continued to drive the Cobalt around to the back of the building.

              Barak stared out the front windshield, totally uninterested and just trying to figure out a plan to walk away from his situation and Ahmad. He was a madman on a death mission, and quite possibly for a reason that went above and beyond Aref’s bigger objective, thought Barak. Ahmad seemed to have a very personal reason for accomplishing the assignment. For himself, however, Aref’s latest request went way above his level of commitment to the jihadi cause. The McCall, Idaho situation had been bad enough for him, but participating in a mass killing, genocide, was beyond his level of commitment to Al Qaeda.

              Ahmad brought the Cobalt to rest in the back parking lot of the Chinese restaurant, facing away from it, looking out into the neighboring field instead. He put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Barak turned his head to him to ask why he had chosen to park where he did, but before he had the chance to utter a single syllable Ahmad karate chopped him in the throat with the side of his hand, instantly crushing Barak’s windpipe.

              For a brief second Barak’s eyes locked onto Ahmad’s, a panicked and questioning look on his face as he struggled to breathe, the realization of suffocation quickly sinking into his consciousness. However, Barak’s understanding and silent plea for help was fleeting, as Ahmad grabbed the back of Barak’s head by his hair and proceeded to slam it forward several times into the Cobalt’s dashboard. On the forth blow Ahmad released his hold on Barak’s head just as it hit the dashboard, causing it to violently bounce off of the dash and then bang into the seat’s head rest behind him. When Barak’s head finally came to rest, it lolled and twisted into an impossible position on his neck, his eyes open and vacant, blood dripping from his nose and face, and all signs of life expunged from him.

              Ahmad took in several deep breaths as he allowed his heightened senses to calm down from killing Barak. He hated to kill his own brothers, but he had concluded that Barak was a risk to the mission and the long term goals of Al Qaeda. Ahmad could tell that the western civilization jihad in Barak had either faded away or was never present. He had to die.

              Ahmad needed to get a new vehicle. He stepped from the Cobalt, opened its trunk, and pulled out the knapsack and duffle bag carrying the canisters. He then went around to the other side of the vehicle and opened the passenger front door, where Barak’s lifeless body lie. He quickly searched through Barak’s pockets looking for any items that might identify him. The idiot was carrying a wallet with a Massachusetts driver’s license in it. Ahmad put the wallet in his knapsack, shut the passenger door, and then walked away from the vehicle. He didn’t care if Barak’s body was found. By the time anyone had the guts enough to come up close to the vehicle to check on Barak’s physical health condition, Dallas police would have much bigger issues to deal with. Ahmad made his way to the grocery store parking lot. Ten minutes later he was driving out of it in a beige Ford Escape.