A Touch of Deceit (Nick Bracco Series #1) (21 page)

“You’re not going to give me any details are you?” she asked. “Just that you were involved with a shooting.”

Nick took a moment to touch her face, unabated by Matt’s presence. “It was scary, Jule. It was very scary. But no one fired a shot in my direction. I promise.”

Nick could feel his left eye twitch with the word, promise. He placed his finger across her lips and she took the tip of it into her mouth and kissed it gently.

Matt conspicuously turned his attention to the muted television. He turned up the volume and said, “It looks like the President is finally about to speak.”

President Merrick stood behind a podium fronted with the Presidential seal. He wore a dark blue suit and his makeup was so thick that even the bright television lights couldn’t penetrate its shell. Instead of shadowy eyes, he appeared whitewashed. His expression was somber as he stood hunched over the podium as if he needed the platform to remain upright.

“Good evening.” President Merrick began. “A short while ago, an innocent young woman was killed by a Kurdish terrorist. Any time terrorists murder an American citizen, I mourn their passing. In this case,” he paused for a breath, “I knew the woman personally.”

He stopped and sipped water from a crystal glass. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. It was apparent that he was attempting to compose himself before speaking further. He studied the glass as if it contained plutonium. After what seemed like hours, he replaced the glass and continued. “The Kurds are a very misunderstood and oppressed people. The average Kurd is a peace-loving and considerate citizen. Unfortunately, a minority belong to the KSF, a bunch of thugs who will stop at nothing to get their way. They are willing to kill women and children in cold blood as witnessed earlier today.

“So far the authorities have apprehended over thirty KSF terrorists and the overnight bombings have been thwarted in all but twenty-two states. This does not mean we are satisfied with the results, it simply means that we are gaining control of the situation.”

Merrick took another deep breath, then leaned over the podium, his hands clenching the sides of the wooden structure in a vice-like grip. He stared straight into the camera, “Folks, there has never been a time in U.S history when a terrorist group has forced us to relinquish our freedom as a nation and we will not do so now. The young men and woman of our military were sent to Turkey because of the brutalities acted out by the KSF. They are there to protect the innocent citizens of Turkey and they will remain there until the KSF is dismantled. And be assured, they will be dismantled. Every last one of them will be brought to justice, including their ringleader, Kemel Kharrazi. Never before has a President guaranteed the capture of a criminal. But today I am here to tell you that Kemel Kharrazi will be apprehended, and it will happen very soon.”

Nick and Matt looked at each other. If anyone knew how close Kharrazi was to being apprehended, it was them. The President was writing checks he couldn’t cash. This didn’t prevent Matt from grinning widely.

“I love that guy,” Matt beamed.

Julie examined her husband’s face. “Is that true?” she asked. “Are you close to getting Kharrazi?”

Nick winced. “Well,” he began. Then his eyes met hers and he saw the hope that lingered there.

Julie pointed a finger at him. “You remember your promise?”

“What promise?” Matt asked, watching the president leave the podium.

“Nick is going to quit being a field agent after the KSF is through terrorizing the country,” Julie said.

“Really?”

“Really,” Nick answered firmly.

“You mean I’m going to have to find a new partner?” Matt asked.

“It looks that way,” Nick said.

Matt crushed his empty beer can and frowned. “I’m not so sure I want to stick around without you.”

“What are you talking about?” Nick scoffed. “You love your job. You couldn’t do anything more gratifying.”

“That’s true, but the reason I love it so much is because we work so well together. I don’t want to have to go through that whole breaking in process again. I could find investigative work in the private sector and probably double my salary.”

“See,” Julie said. “Everybody wins.”

Nick decided to change the subject. “How’s Tommy?”

“When I left the hospital this afternoon, the doctors felt like he was out of the woods,” she said.

“Good.” Nick checked his watch. “We’d better get going.”

“Now where?” Julie said.

“We have a meeting downtown.”

“At the office?”

Nick glanced at Matt. “Not exactly.”

Julie tossed the washcloth playfully at her husband. “I swear Nick Bracco, living with you is like living with a—”

“A spy?” Nick finished for her.

“That’s right, a spy. I can’t wait until you get a regular job and come home and tell me every boring detail about your day.”

Matt went over and gave Julie a peck on the forehead. “Thanks for the chow, Jule.”

She smiled at Matt. “All I ask is that you take care of him. He hasn’t far to go.”

“Don’t worry,” Matt said heading for the door, “I can see his pot belly growing already.”

Huseyn Yildiri was surrounded by thirty of the KSF’s most powerful soldiers. They stood around him sharpening their knives and cleaning the barrels of their rifles. A conference table was wedged into the corner of the room where a computer and three small televisions continuously displayed news and information. He was the only one seated at the folding table in the middle of the room. He sipped his cup of water with shaky hands while they all waited for Kemel Kharrazi to speak.

Kharrazi paced opposite the table with his hands behind his back. His face screwed up into a tight, pained expression.

Huseyn prayed for Kharrazi to say something, but his leader simply stalked the cellar where they assembled and listened to Huseyn explain his ordeal. Huseyn didn’t dare delve too deeply into the explanation of his exit from their safe house. It was one thing to run from bullets, yet another to leave a brave KSF soldier behind, dead. He tried to paint his escape as necessary. “I knew that you must learn of this situation. That is why I came here immediately, Sarock.”

Huseyn wiped his brow and studied the smooth cement floor. He thought about the look the FBI agent had given him. The man was walking to his death when he glanced over his shoulder and gave Huseyn a deliberate warning. It was as if the agent knew something and he was trying to caution Huseyn. He was trying to get Huseyn to run off. It had worked.

Kharrazi stopped in front of Huseyn and crouched down, so he was looking up at the man. He spoke to the young soldier as if he were speaking to one of his children, soft and calm. “He told you that his partner was in the refrigerator and somehow you were surprised when he turned up there?”

Huseyn’s body was shuddering so powerfully that he simply willed his torso to remain still and allowed his head to bobble itself into a nod. “Yes, Sarock. The door blinded me from viewing the inside of the machine, but I barely escaped when the shots were fired.”

Kharrazi looked skeptical as he stood and made another pass by the table. “So then, Mr. Bracco is still alive?”

Huseyn remained paralyzed with fear. He could think of nothing to say.

A roomful of muttering soldiers echoed off of the bare concrete walls. He shook his head like a shameful principal and knelt next to Huseyn. Kharrazi’s fingers caressed the young boy’s face and sent icy streaks of panic down Huseyn’s neck. He knew that Kharrazi had the quickness of a leopard, whose hands were capable of tearing his face apart before he could flinch.

“Tell me something,” Kharrazi whispered. The room became still. At first Huseyn thought that fear had caused him to become deaf. He couldn’t hear anything but Kharrazi’s voice. He suddenly realized that even the televisions had been turned down so that every soldier could eavesdrop on the proceedings. “How many rounds did you fire at the agents?”

Huseyn wasn’t prepared for such a refined interrogation. He hadn’t thought through all of the details. How many shots? Why did he want to know? Wasn’t it enough that he was shot at?

“Uh, I think two,” Huseyn hesitated. “It happened so fast, I can’t remember exactly.”

Kharrazi held out his hand. “May I have your gun?”

Crazy thoughts ran through Huseyn’s mind. He couldn’t possibly shoot his way out of the cellar. He considered turning the gun on himself. It would be quick and ease his tension. But a glimmer of hope lingered in his mind. The way Kharrazi was touching him, gently, and speaking so softly. Maybe he had pity for his soldier?

Huseyn removed the gun from his belt strap and with trembling fingers he handed Kharrazi the fully loaded weapon.

Kharrazi didn’t examine the gun. He looked straight into Huseyn’s eyes and seemed to be measuring his reaction while his hands roamed over the exterior of the weapon, searching for any evidence of a recent firing.

A voice from behind them urgently said, “Sarock, the American President is speaking on television.”

Kharrazi didn’t turn right away. He lightly patted Huseyn’s cheek. A momentary reprieve.

The KSF soldiers fell in around their leader and watched as President Merrick announced the imminent capture of Kemel Kharrazi. The raucous crowd of soldiers hollered their disproval at the TV screen, but Kharrazi gestured for them to stop. He listened as the president made false promises to the American people. When the president left the podium, Kharrazi switched off the TV and turned to address his followers.

“This is exactly what I had hoped for,” Kharrazi said. His words stunned the group.

Nihad Tansu elbowed his way to the front and said, “Sarock, they must know something. Maybe we should change our location.”

Kharrazi stared out over the heads of his soldiers, deep in thought. “No, that is what he wants. He’s desperate. He is trying to force us into a mistake.”

“What about the White House?” Tansu asked. “Are we still going to follow the original plan?”

Kharrazi nodded slowly. “Yes, tomorrow night, as planned.”

He pointed to a short bearded soldier to his right, “Jihite, send a fax to the President. Tell them about the bombing of the White House tomorrow night. Also send the same information to the Washington Post, the same reporter as last time. He will have credibility.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Tell them about our plan ahead of time? Is that wise, Sarock?”

Kharrazi seemed amused at his own idea, as if struck by how brilliant it was. “Yes, it’s perfect. It will force the President to remain in the White House. If he leaves now, he will appear as a coward. Besides, it’s too late. They can’t stop the bombing. Especially with our detonator in a bunker three thousand miles away. It’s the perfect plan.”

Nihad Tansu stepped forward, directly into Kharrazi’s path. Kharrazi had to look up at the much taller man. “Yes, Nihad?”

Tansu stood firm, his muscular frame seemed anxious to flex its muscles. “Sarock, allow me to take the White House.”

Kharrazi regarded his soldier with a partial smile. He placed a hand on Tansu’s shoulder, “You make me proud, Nihad. However, I have another chore for you. A more important chore.”

“Sarock, what could be more important?”

Kharrazi folded his arms.

Tansu’s face fell.

“Good,” Kharrazi grinned. “Would you like to know what I have for you?”

Tansu nodded.

“You must kill the wife of this FBI agent. She is very important to him. I want him to lose something as important as our independence is to us. I want him to feel our pain as no one else could.”

Huseyn observed the conversation with eager eyes. He was grateful for the distraction and wondered if his mishap might be forgotten altogether. He watched as the KSF soldiers listened intently to their leader. It was apparent that Kharrazi’s objectives seemed to have become much more personal. He wondered if Kharrazi was simply losing perspective of their overall goals, or just blind with revenge. Either way Huseyn was going to stay quiet and pray for the continued lapse of attention.

Kharrazi met Tansu’s eyes. “This is no trivial task, I assure you. If you succeed, this will take one of the FBI’s finest brains out of commission. Bracco will never be the same man. Once again, one of our small targets will become a significant factor to our success.”

Kharrazi regarded his soldier with an air of wariness. “You will not fail me, will you, Nihad?”

Nihad Tansu appeared to stand taller now. He looked around at the other soldiers, the center of attention. “This woman is already a corpse, Sarock. That much is certain.”

“Good,” Kharrazi smiled. Then the smile faded as he turned and pointed to Huseyn, alone, still sitting at the folding table. “First, get rid of this coward.”

Huseyn became lightheaded and his body lost its ability to hold itself upright. He saw the wicked expression on Tansu’s face and he surrendered to a wave of nausea. There was nothing in his stomach to purge, so he bent his head down and shuddered with his mouth open, gagging on pure fear itself. When he looked up, he saw Tansu over him with his knife gleaming in his hand. “Please,” he begged. “Make it quick.”