The Panic Zone by Rick Mofina Read Free Book Online

“It’s just too soon.”
    â€œI understand your concern,” Kendrix said to her. “These things are never easy, but in this case, given the circumstances, I think it’s warranted.”
    He turned to Emma.
    â€œAll right, you’ve had a lot to deal with. We’ll take care of it after you’ve rested.”

CHAPTER 8
    Fairfax County, Virginia
    W hile Emma Lane rested in Wyoming and Gannon slept in Brazil, Robert Lancer was hard at work in metropolitan Washington, D.C.
    He undid his collar button and studied a file while walking down a third-floor corridor of the National Anti-Threat Center. The complex sat amid the wooded suburbs northwest of the capital.
    In this building, behind the bullet and blast-proof windows, hundreds of security experts from a spectrum of government branches worked 24/7 analyzing threats to national security.
    Lancer re-read his file on his way to the center’s East Africa section, hoping that this latest “urgent” interruption warranted pulling him away from his other duties.
    He reached the section’s locked door, swiped his card, then punched the alphanumeric code into the keypad.
    Access approval beeped, and he entered.
    The room glowed in the light from the screens and computerized GPS maps suspended above a bank of modular desks where several analysts were entering data into computer keyboards.
    Martin Weller, the section chief, was updating his staff and paused when he saw Lancer arrive.
    â€œBob, thanks for coming. I know you’ve got plenty on your plate.”
    â€œWhat’ve you got, Marty?”
    â€œNot sure. Pull it up, Craig.”
    An analyst entered some commands on his keyboard and photos of a man in his late twenties filled one of the large monitors.
    An arrest photo.
    â€œThis is Said Salelee, a painter who lives near Msasani Bay, one of the poorer sections of Dar es Salaam.”
    â€œOur people in Tanzania called this in?”
    â€œOne of the local nationals employed at our embassy reported him acting strangely outside the gate.”
    â€œThe sheet says he was taking pictures and making notes?”
    â€œHe was doing it for several days. The staffer told her boss, who alerted the Ministry of Home Affairs and the national police picked him up. Turns out he’s linked to the Avenging Lions of Africa.”
    â€œHow did they discover that?”
    â€œThey threatened to feed him his testicles.”
    Staring at Salelee’s face, Lancer, one of the center’s leading senior operational agents, weighed matters. The mission of the Avenging Lions of Africa was to make developed nations suffer for enslaving Africa in poverty. Regionally, the Lions had been linked to bombings, shootings and hostage takings in Kagera, Pemba North, Kigoma and Zanzibar. Lancer had considered them minor league until last year when they attacked the British Embassy in Cairo.
    Cairo.
    That was a psychological trigger for Lancer.
    Ten years earlier, everything in his world went black in Cairo. His wife, his daughter, his life, all changed in Cairo. Since then not a day passed without a word, fragrance or other mundane matter ripping open his wound.
    It would never go away.
    But Lancer always rode it out, always focused on his work. His determination deepened because he had a personal stake in the job.
    Now, everything he did, he did for them.
    He flipped through the pages of classified situational reports on Salelee. The CIA and State Department tied the Lions to funding operations through drug networks, human trafficking and Internet fraud.
    As he studied Salelee, Lancer thought back to 1998 when terrorists bombed the U.S. embassies in Nairobi, Kenya and Dar es Salaam, foreshadowing September 11, 2001.
    Never underestimate any piece of intelligence.
    â€œAll right, Marty,” Lancer said, “where are we at with Salelee?”
    â€œThe Tanzanians have been going at him for two days—nothing to eat but bread and