The Assassin's Trail by J.C. Fields Read Free Book Online Page A

just anxious.” The older man stood and walked to Aazim. He placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder and said in a soft voice. “We are dealing with old men with too much time on their hands. Old men who do not understand the complexity of your task. Let them voice their concerns, as it makes them happy. Keep to your schedule. Do not let their words sway you.”
    Abbas stared into the eyes of his mentor and nodded. “I will keep my tongue quiet.”
    “Good. Now, sit, join me for tea. We will discuss the next phase of your plan.”
    Aazim sat next to the older man and sipped on a glass of strong, bitter black tea. He was quiet for several minutes. Finally, the Imam said, “My brother, I have seen that look in your eye before. What have you decided?”
    “Do you have any believers in your mosque? Zealots who are anxious to be with Allah?”
    “Yes, we have several.” The older man nodded slightly and sipped his tea. “I did not think you wanted that sort of activity yet.”
    “Maybe the old men are correct. Maybe I am being too cautious.” He took another sip of tea, carefully lowered the small glass to the table and turned to the Imam. “What is the one thing Americans cherish most?”
    “Their possessions?”
    “Yes, but they cherish acquiring those possessions more. They do not really care for what they buy; they just love to buy. What if we struck at the heart of the beast? The very embodiment of this obsession of buying things.”
    “Yes. Yes, I see where your mind is taking you, Aazim. But what of your other plan?”
    “It will move ahead without interruption. This will be extra. We will strike in the heart of the country, at the very belly of the beast itself.”
    The Imam smiled. “Tell me what is in your mind, Aazim.”
    Abbas nodded and proceeded to tell his mentor.  

Chapter 9
     
    Kansas City, MO
    Friday evening
     
    “Ryan, slow down. What exactly did Ted say?”
    “When I gave him the name you asked about, he was silent for a few seconds. Then in a quiet voice, he said, ‘Why are you asking about this person?’ So I replied, ‘Sean Kruger with the FBI, you know you met him a week ago when Rousch was killed. He’s following up on a lead and was just curious if you had heard of them.’ That’s when he went psycho on me. First he wanted to know why the FBI was investigating the man, then he wanted to know why he was going through me, then... Well, he just didn’t make any sense. I calmed him down and said you’d call him. Call him right now, Sean, before the guy has a heart attack.”
    Kruger suppressed a laugh. “Okay, obviously I hit a nerve. I’ll call him right now. As far as I’m concerned, you were never involved. We did not have this conversation. If someone checks the phone records, we were talking about the wedding to see if you could possibly get here, do you understand?”
    “Yeah, I appreciate that, Sean. Let me know how it goes.”
    “I will. Good night.”
    Kruger ended the call and sat for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Apparently the man he had asked about was on a watch list within the Secret Service. If so, why?
    Stephanie knocked and opened the office door to check on him. “Have you found out anything?”
    “At the moment I’m not sure. Give me a few minutes; I need to make another call. Maybe then I can make sense of the last one.”
    Stephanie had been around him long enough to know it was time to shut the door and wait, which she did. Kruger gathered his thoughts and dialed the number Clark had given him for Margolin. The call was answered on the fourth ring. “If this is Kruger, you have a lot of explaining to do.”
    “Obviously the individual I inquired about is known to your organization.”
    “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why are you investigating Fernando Guevara?”
    “Actually, I’m not. His name came up, I became curious and made a phone call, that’s all.”
    Margolin was quiet for a