Joshua`s Hammer by David Hagberg Read Free Book Online

"Hell, the Secret Service can't even guarantee a President's life." He
    took off his jacket, tossed it on the couch and went to his desk. "I want Jeff Cook alerted to what might be coming his way in Riyadh, and then I want all of our stations and missions to get the word to button down, freeze their assets."
    "We did that as soon as we found out. And I called McCafferty over at State to alert our embassies world wide."
    "Did we notify the Pentagon?"
    "Couple of hours ago." Adkins handed McGarvey a buff colored file folder with blue edging, denoting urgent attention. "This is what we've come up with so far. The Bureau's Orlando SAC, Scott Thompson, is running the show down there, but Fred Rudolph called a couple of hours ago from his office, so they're on top of it already." Rudolph headed the FBI's Special Investigative Division. McGarvey had a great deal of respect for the man's abilities and judgment. He was a straight shooter; a no-nonsense cop.
    "Coffee?"
    "Coming up," Adkins said.
    McGarvey quickly scanned the file, which didn't contain much more information than he'd already gotten from Dick Yemm, except that the FBI now believed that the Jersey City Trucking Company was no longer a bin Laden front, although it was still owned and operated by Arabs, mostly Egyptians.
    Adkins came back with the coffee. "I don't think there's any doubt who ordered the hit or why. I think the Bureau is wrong this time."
    "Maybe not," McGarvey said. Bin Laden was on the move, or getting ready to do something spectacular; he was pretty sure of that. But no matter how he looked at it, this killing didn't add up to a bin Laden-ordered hit. "Do we have someone watching Alien's and Gloria's families in Minnesota?"
    "I didn't think of that one," Adkins said. "I'll do it now."
    "Then call Otto in."
    "He's been here all night."
    "Okay, send him up." McGarvey picked up the phone and hit the speed dial button for Fred Rudolph's office over at the J. Edgar Hoover Building. "Is everyone else in and up to speed?"
    "Since eight," Adkins said, heading for the door.
    "Staff meeting in thirty minutes."
    "You got it, Mac."
    The call was answered on the first ring. "Fred Rudolph." His voice sounded strained. He had graduated summa cum laude with a law degree from Fordham, and had worked for a couple of years with the army's Staff Judge Advocate's office as a special investigator. He'd done the same thing as a civilian for the U.S. Supreme Court and the Department of Justice until he'd signed on with the FBI about six years ago.
    "Good morning, Fred. I read your 22:30 fax, anything new since then?"
    "You just get in?"
    "Yeah."
    "It's a bitch, isn't it?" Rudolph said. Sometimes he wished he'd been a banker instead of a cop. "As soon as we got a positive on Yousef we woke up a federal judge and got a search warrant. My people are tossing his apartment right now. We should have something in the next couple of hours or so. But they had a head start, Mac. So unless they get stupid we might come up empty."
    The first twenty-four hours, and especially the first six hours of these kinds of investigations were the most crucial. After that they were just picking up the pieces, because if the shooters were professionals they would be long gone by then.
    "What's your best guess?"
    "Probably Cuba. There were two flights to Havana direct out of Orlando that they could have taken. Scott Thompson's people are looking over the passenger lists, and talking with the baggage handlers and ticket clerks, but both flights are already on the ground in Havana, and won't turn
    around until morning. As soon as they get back he'll talk to them unless your people can get to them down there."
    "We'll work on it," McGarvey promised. "What about the weapon?"
    "Except for prints it was clean. No serial number, so it could have been purchased almost anywhere. Ballistics is still working on it."
    "How about the van?"
    "We lifted some pretty good prints, including Yousef's, but we've come up with