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- Author: M.A. Rothman
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“But about Frederick. I’ve seen him personally check out three trucks just before they departed with shipments bound for a single New York restaurant. And I highly doubt some little hole-in-the-wall Italian joint is going to need three full semi trucks’ worth of olive oil.”
“It does seem a bit excessive,” Connor agreed. “Do we know if that shipment had anything to do with the church bombing?”
“I haven’t heard a confirmation yet. Either way, there’s no way in hell Frederick is here as an oil merchant. And he’s got a long record of freelance bombings, mostly in the Middle East. Recently we think he was responsible for taking out a merchant vessel with almost a hundred million dollars’ worth of merchandise. The insurance paid out nicely for the shipping company. Great scam. Though we can’t prove anything yet.”
“And now you think those shipments of olive oil were actually bomb-making material.”
Annie shrugged. “Like I said, it ain’t olive oil this guy is overseeing. There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“Okay, I can now see why Richards and Thompson asked us to compare notes.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, we’re both tracking terrorists evidently intent on bombing US targets at roughly the same time. They may be ideological polar opposites—one is a religious kook who doesn’t care about money, the other is a freelance killer working for money—but especially with that phone call, there’s no way it’s a coincidence that they’re both active at the same time.”
Annie shrugged. “Well, all we’re pretty sure about is that they’re on the job, but we don’t know the target—”
“Actually, let’s assume for argument’s sake that one of the targets was the church. I’m going to guess it was a decoy that that lady mentioned.”
“A decoy for…”
Connor panned his gaze across the diner and leaned closer to Annie, keeping his voice low. “Remember, my guy, Hakimi, he’s actually the one with a nuke in his back pocket. No way that church is anything but a distraction. Get everyone focused on one spot, when another spot is actually the target.”
Annie shrugged. “Maybe. But what would motivate these two to work together? Müller and this Hakimi guy? I don’t get it.”
“That’s the rub. I can’t figure out why they’d cooperate. Especially for the religious wacko I’m following. He’s a zealot, and nothing anyone would say would sway him, he wants to strike fear into his enemy. For your olive oil guy, that one’s easier to guess. It’s probably money motivating him.”
“But if you’re trying to make a splash, there’s a lot better and easier targets to hit over in Europe,” Annie said. “Think of how many classic landmarks across the whole of that continent they could destroy. Why come all the way over here to bomb a church? That’s why the why matters.”
“If you think about it,” Connor said. “there’s no money in bombing a landmark in Europe for Müller. There’s not much glory in it either. The EDF has been preaching about how evil the US is, right? Tossing around buzzwords like colonialism and American expansionism. That’s a common theme for the Muslim terrorists who think of us as the Great Satan. They have the same types of complaints. They want to teach us a lesson. Bring us down a notch. And what better way to do that than to hurt us where we live?”
Annie tapped a finger to her chin. “I think it’s more than that.”
“More than wanting to teach us a lesson?”
Annie nodded. “It just doesn’t fit. Müller isn’t on some jihad, like your friend Hakimi. They’re both after something very specific—that’s how they’ve always operated in the past. The church bombing would just be window dressing. A distraction. A decoy.”
“That’s a pretty significant distraction,” Connor said. “The basilica was a major target. If that’s not what they were after then their true target must be…”
“Huge,” Annie said.
Connor put himself in their shoes. Bombings, no matter the events that precipitated them, were generally political statements. Devastating events designed to kill or maim, to generate the maximum amount of fear and sorrow. Both emotions were equally debilitating, especially here in the States where people marched against every little thing that hurt their delicate sensibilities. And those emotions led to changes. Mass shootings always led to extended conversations about gun control. 9/11 led to some of the biggest overhaul in national security procedures the country had ever seen.
Were these people trying to start a similar conversation? And if so, about what?
“So, if the church bombing was a decoy, and we treat it as such, maybe knowing that can work in our favor,” Connor said.
Annie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, as it is, security is ratcheted up in New York City. No different than the 9/11 airplane crash. The first one, it was a tragedy. The second one, it was terrorism. Nobody needed to tell us we were under attack. If these guys play the same handbook, and manage a second attack in the city, the entire area will get locked down tighter than a prom queen on prom night. Everyone will be looking at what’s coming and going in the area.”
“How does that help us?”
“You watch movies?”
“I suppose.”
“Have you ever seen The Siege, with Bruce Willis?”
Annie shook her head. “I prefer comedies.”
“Okay, basically, a terror group makes the city a target, right? Blowing up a bus and a couple of other high-profile targets. The city and state officials are overwhelmed, the FBI can’t seem to handle it, and some secret CIA lady comes in and starts pulling people off the street to interrogate them in dirty basements.”
“I like her already.”
Connor grinned. “I thought you might. Anyway, the government decided to declare martial law and send in the military to clean up the situation. It causes a shitstorm, the entire city basically gets put on twenty-four-hour lockdown, it’s a mess.”
“Soooo…” Annie
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