Fueling the Rage Read online

Page 27


  The Group was able to reach Henry’s hotel in less than two hours. Again security called the butler, but there was no answer. The group included the CIA agent. One of the hotel security men mentioned that they were the second group to call on Henry. The CIA agent showed his ID and drew his pistol. The Group and two security guards went to the Presidential Suite. The butler was missing from his duty station and there was no answer from the suite. A guard unlocked the front door and they all entered. The lights were off and a guard stumbled over the headless body of the butler. The General turned on a light and the ugly scene of two headless victims was before them.

  This was now a local crime scene, but the FBI agent in charge was notified by the CIA agent and the Federal government took control of the investigation based upon the Terrorism Clause. The room was sealed to protect the evidence. The Group ate breakfast at the hotel restaurant and talked about Henry. The CIA agent and the General had actually met with him in a huge home in Libya. The General said, “The ambassador of Chad was contacted by Henry and had agreed to help stop a terrorist attack on several cities. Henry had been to only three locations since his arrival. He went to the hanger, Malcolm Akiff’s office and to this hotel.” The FBI man made a few phone calls. A small army of law enforcement officers and the Group went directly to Malcolm’s office.

  *****

  Bill and the cleric ate a nice dinner. After dinner they went to the parking lot behind the mosque. The cleric had a black Town Car and gave the keys to Bill and told him to drive. Bill followed the cleric’s instruction to reach the farm. At the farm he pulled up to a very large steel building that the cleric called the new barn. The cleric opened the door and the first person to greet them was Wilson, Bill’s buddy, from the prison meetings. Bill’s eyes scanned the building.

  Wilson said, “This is impressive, right? Every one of these vehicles is full of explosives. The cleric told me you were going to drive one of the ambulances.” The cleric announced the call to prayer. Wilson and the cleric took Mohammad Johnson to an area where everyone prayed towards Mecca. Bill took a spot at the back and counted his targets. He wished he had more than a pistol for this crowd. He looked around and wondered. What would happen if a bullet hit one of these ambulances?

  Ivan and a small team of FBI men had been watching the Topeka Peace Mosque. They used a process called thin cover to follow the black Town Car. Seven undercover cars and trucks were parked or moving in the opposite direction of the Town car. They used a mathematical process that predicted the future path of the car. The great benefit to thin cover was that cars pass the suspected vehicle head on and they never need to follow from behind. The final destination was tracked to a farm that was owned by a taxable trust where there had been a recent request for a building permit for a very large steel building. The building was intended be used as an agricultural storage area that was subclasses as a barn. The size of the barn was listed as over 30,000 square feet. An Air Force reconnaissance aircraft flew over the farm and ran a real time review. The barn and the area surrounding it were photographed and were positive for signs of a high concentration of personnel. There were several parked cars and vans near the barn.

  The second pass was for real time infrared photography and a chemical spectrum analysis. The infrared nicely penetrated the roof of the steel building. The barn was highly air conditioned and the floor was poured concrete. It was a perfect match for the infrared and spectrum analysis. The floor was warm and the downward flow of cold air gave a marvelous view of the barn’s contents. There were twenty two adults in a kneeling position located in the southeast corner of the barn. Careful analysis confirmed that they were male. The IR showed several stacks of rifles at various locations, but only one of the men was wearing a weapon. The Infrared clearly showed a mid-size automatic on his right hip. In addition, each of his forearms had rectangular hardware attached to them. It was clear that Bill was now part of this group. The spectrum analysis was also revealing. The building was filled with vapors that contained nitrates and hydrocarbons. The concentration in the atmosphere of the building was just below the explosive level and a spark from gunfire could possibly ignite the entire building into a fire ball.

  ATF agents trained in explosives were called to the site. Ivan now knew how Bill thought, and he told the FBI agents what to expect. “He is outnumbered over twenty to one, but he is no fool. He will wait for the best time.”

  At the same time, Bill was wondering about back up. He had also picked the men he would interrogate when these twenty or so men were his prisoners.” Ivan looked carefully at the position of the men. “There are walls close to them on two sides. They are apparently not armed, but Bill has only his Glock 23 and 40 rounds of ammunition including his one chambered round. For any six men the task would be impossible, but Bill may try to corner these men. If he does attempt this he will quickly move to a control position with his Glock in plain view and kill eight or ten of them.”

  The senior FBI agent was thinking. What are the laws that govern this confrontation? He dialed his cell phone and called the FBI legal guide in Washington DC.

  Prayer time was over and they all rolled up their prayer rugs and took them to the southeast corner of the barn where they were neatly stacking them. As Ivan had predicted to the FBI men, Bill was seeing his odds improve. Only three of the men were behind him and the rest were concentrated in the corner. Bill calmly removed his Glock 23. The Glock had no safety and a chamber round was ready to fire. The three men behind Bill had their backs to him and he fired three times and his targets each received a fatal head wound. The men dropped instantly to the concrete floor and eighteen men including the cleric turned and faced Bill. Eight of the men tried to rush him.

  He needed to conserve his ammunition and at lightning speed he aimed and fired eight times. He imagined a small round target on the forehead of each of the charging men. Bill’s left hand stabilized his right hand as he pulled the trigger. One man made it to within six feet of him, but he was confident the wound to his forehead had killed him. His body was still following old instructions, but for insurance he fired an additional round into his chest. Bill took two steps to the left as the man stumbled a few feet past him and collapsed. He now had one round in the chamber and one in his clip. Two men attempted to run to his left and with two head shots he stopped two more targets. The action of the Glock opened as it spent its last round. With his left hand he reached into his right sleeve and removed a clip. In a smooth motion the used clip was ejected and replaced. He pulled back on the action and it snapped forward and a new bullet was chambered. Twelve 40-caliber rounds were now available in his clip.

  Ivan and the FBI men were on foot and were by the door nearest to the southeast corner of the barn. When the FBI men heard the gun fire they tried to rush into the building, but Ivan blocked the door. He quietly told them to wait for Bill to bring out his prisoners. Ivan was able to stop them and convinced them that the open door could add enough oxygen to allow ignition of the explosive air. The senior agent wondered. Who are these men?

  Bill now had fewer men standing before him and they all had their hands in the air. “Cleric move against the wall.” Bill pointed to a location and the cleric cooperated. “Who is in charge here?” One man dashed to his left and he fired a round into his right leg. He ordered two men to collect the runner and put him next to the cleric. He then told the rest to lay face down, to not talk and to not move. He walked over to the cleric and fired one round into his left thigh. “What is going on here?” The cleric turned his face to the side and did not answer. Bill fired one round into the side of his head. He then asked the runner, “What is going on here?” The runner did not hesitate and for about five minutes revealed everything that he knew. “Who is in charge?”

  “Bryan Washington is the person that has put this all together. He works for a real important man. I believe his name is Malcolm. I saw him one time and he talked to me and Bryan about a real good job opening, but he hired Bryan
. Now Bryan flies all over doing what we do here.”

  There were fourteen dead, one wounded and six unharmed men on the floor. He told the men to get up and help the wounded man to stand. He gave them simple instructions. “If you try anything I will shoot you. All of you will stay together and two of you carry this runner. Open the door and walk outside. All of you stay together and do not talk.” The last man in the line was his buddy Wilson. He put his hand on Wilson’s shoulder. “You seem like a good guy. You are lucky to be alive. Wilson, I want you to clean up your act. You will go back to prison, but I will check on you. What was your real name?”

  “My name is Fred Wilson.”

  Bill replied in a compassionate tone, “What were you raised as?”

  “My mother took me to an AME church when I was little, before I started acting a fool.”

  “Fred, did your preacher tell you or your mother to blow people up at that AME church?” Fred shook his head no. Bill stopped talking as the FBI swarmed his prisoners. He held Fred back from the FBI. “So what are you going to do?”

  Fred was softly crying as he answered, “I am going to change my name back to Fred, start going to the AME service in the prison and tell my mother that I am done being a fool.”

  An agent put handcuffs on Fred. Bill told the FBI man to take special care of Fred Wilson, he was worth saving. “I want you to tell the DFBI where Fred Wilson ends up. I think there may be an important job for him. Have the DFBI give the information to the Group, he will understand. Remember, this is secret. You will say nothing about this except to the DFBI.”

  The agent pulled out a small book and wrote down Bill’s instructions and answered, “Yes sir, I will.”

  Ivan and the senior FBI agent walked up to him. “The guy in charge of this mess is named Bryan Washington. We need to locate him immediately.”

  The senior agent was looking at Bill’s with his mouth open. They could see the blood drain from his face. “The data miners came up with that name, but when I looked him up on the FBI computer he was listed as incarcerated at the State Prison in Topeka. The records showed him as being in jail on the date of the bombing.”

  Bill put his hand on his shoulder, “That is the past. We need to find him and stop him. I have one more name. That name is Malcolm and he hired Bryan. Bryan is doing this in several cities.”

  “I will locate Bryan for you.” A FBI helicopter landed about fifty feet from them.

  Hastening plans are torn asunder

  Good and evil men collide

  Fighting hard with urgent thunder

  But will it stop the fiery tide

  Chapter 25

  Malcolm’s office was in the high-end business section of Tampa. Police arrived from all directions and a heavily armed SWAT unit surrounded the building. Policemen entered the building and headed for each of the stairways. Armed teams were stationed on every floor, including the basement. The Group and all the FBI agents that would fit into the elevator headed for Malcolm’s office. The elevator reached top floor, the doors opened and two armed security guards stood as the elevator door opened. Instantly half a dozen pistols and rifles were now aimed at the guards. The guards offered no resistance and were quickly disarmed. In police commands they asked, “Where’s Malcolm?” The guards pointed to the receptionist that sat behind a large counter. She was a well-dressed, very pretty blond and now the weapons were aimed at her, “Where’s Malcolm?”

  “I don’t know. Let me call his secretary.” She lifted a phone and pushed a button. “Alice, there are several men in the lobby that want to speak to Mr. Akiff.”

  The secretary quickly appeared at the reception area. The guns were now pointed at her, “Where’s Malcolm?”

  “I don’t know. He normally gives me his travel schedule every day at 4pm, but yesterday he didn’t. He called me this morning and said he would be gone for a few days. Could this have anything to do with that man from Africa? He told Mr. Akiff that he should cut off the receptionist’s head. It bothered me, but I thought he was just kidding.”

  The General said, “The African was here? Henry was here yesterday? What time?”

  “Yes he was here yesterday at about 3pm. They were going to have dinner together tonight. I made the reservations.”

  Police were now pouring out of the stairwell and every inch of the offices was being searched. Box after box of documents were being collected by investigators.

  A policeman walked up to the Group carrying a clear plastic bag, “Who’s in charge?”

  The senior FBI agent said, “I’m the Regional Director of the FBI.”

  The policeman was now holding the bag in his raised gloved hand, “I found this plastic bag with a head in it in a closet in the office at the far end of the floor.”

  The secretary yelled, “That’s the African’s head. Mr. Akiff said that he was one of the richest men in the world!”

  *****

  Bryan was flying to Atlanta in the Falcon Jet. His work was done and all his cities were ready to start the jihad. He would call his leaders in Tampa, Houston and Topeka. He would arrive at the Atlanta airport near his steel building at 1pm. He was expecting a call to action from Malcolm today and the jihad would take place tomorrow. A car met the Falcon Jet and they took him to his building. He walked with his leader around the facility. It was prayer time and the eight men present unrolled their prayer rugs and assembled in the usual area. After prayers, Bryan gave them a pep talk. He then went to his fire truck, climbed into the cab and took hold of the large steering wheel. He sat quietly and all his men watched him. He again had his daydream of paradise and cheering crowds. “This will be my destructive agent of change tomorrow. I’ll use it to level the CDC.” The workers cheered. “Do you all have your assignments and know where to go?” The workers again cheered. “Tomorrow is the jihad, Allah Akbar.”

  The men and cleric raised their arms and repeated the chant again and again, “Allah Akbar.”

  *****

  Malcolm was riding in his black limousine. After he had Henry killed he decided that the jihad would have to proceed without him. He was driven to the private aircraft section of Tampa International Airport and stopped in front of the sales and service area. They would have a nice selection of private planes for sale and a gleaming white three year old Boeing 757 caught his eye. The Boeing 757 with extended range was like new and was perfectly centered in the hanger.

  The salesman saw Malcolm’s expression, “This is a real good buy. It’s listed at forty six million, but for you today we’re asking only thirty nine million. The tanks are completely full and ready for its range of flight.”

  Malcolm looked at his entourage behind him, which included his Falcon pilots. He only let Bryan use his back up team. “Is it ready to fly, but can you guys fly this?” His two pilots told him they both had licenses for a Boeing 757. The pilots looked at its flight certificate and both agreed it was in perfect shape and it had over a thousand hours before any major maintenance needed to be done. Just like in a car dealer, the next step for Malcolm was a finance department and he sat at the finance manager’s desk as his people inspected every inch of the plane. “I’ll pay thirty five million.”

  The finance man called Paris and talked to someone. He was still holding the line open as he said, “They could offer thirty seven, but they’ll take thirty six.”

  Malcolm agreed and his bank in Tampa was called. The finance man gave the wire account information and the amount to the banker. Malcolm then got on the phone and spoke to the president of the bank. They knew each other and the funds were transferred instantly to a Paris Bank. The finance guy called the Paris bank and confirmed the transfer was complete and the thirty six million dollar sale was consummated. The bill of sale was notarized by an older woman who told Malcolm that he needed to register the aircraft in the country of ownership within thirty days. He looked at his people, “Let’s take her for ride to Miami boys.”

  The private side of Tampa International Airport w
ould allow flight plans by the leg and they logged the flight to Miami Florida by way of the Gulf of Mexico. They were cleared to fly southwest 250 miles at forty one thousand feet and to then turn due south and request their approach plan from Miami control. They loaded the plane with galley supplies and stores costing an additional twenty two thousand dollars. They all boarded the plane. Malcolm took the third seat in the cockpit and watched as the pilot lifted the 757 off the runway and climbed briskly to 41,000 feet. They reached altitude and he told them that they were not going to Miami. He had a trust that owned a 200,000 acre ranch in Paraguay, South America. The ranch included part of an abandoned Air Force base with a 12,000 foot runway that ran just inside a border of the property. He was also assured by the government that it was useable by heavy planes. The ranch had twelve luxury apartments that were near to the 50,000 square foot home.

  The copilot had all the South American charts and explained the new route to the pilot, “We turn here and fly the Paraguay corridor to this GPS setting.” The pilot called his final destination on his radio to give notice of the big planes landing and received local instructions.