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Authors: Leo J. Maloney
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maybe twenty-five cars. She saw her father shutting the door to the Shelby. He walked to a nondescript door in the corner and disappeared into it.
Bingo.
Alex ran back up to street level. She found a button to open the garage door and walked out into the brisk early morning air. Very satisfied, she got back on her motorcycle and rode away, the roar of the motor echoing between the sheer faces of tall buildings. She had found the place. For the time being, that would be enough.
Chapter 12
May 28
Islamabad
“T his is it,” said Harun. He turned the Daihatsu into the parking lot of a low-cost apartment block, not a mile away from one of the city slums. It was a dark night. Working streetlights were few and far between, and there was no one to be seen out on the street.
“Are you sure?” asked Conley.
“That’s the address for Parvez Nutkani.” Harun had made some phone calls to the city hospitals. It took him three hours, but he got the names of the driver and the emergency responder who had been in the ambulance that carried away the injured attacker. An additional call had gotten their addresses.
“He is in building number four,” Harun added. It took them a few minutes to determine which building was which. It was dark, and the numbers that weren’t missing were hardly visibly placed. Luckily, there was no security to speak of, and they had the run of the place. Still, the whole operation was sloppy and rushed. They might have waited to get together a tactical team and run a well-organized op, but in a race against time, Conley knew you had to work with what you had. And what they had was just the two of them in a Daihatsu beater.
Harun found a spot and parked, and they skulked along the shadows to the outer gate to the apartment building. Conley slipped his lock-pick tools from the pocket of his khakis. He inserted the lock pick and the torsion wrench. His fingers moved deftly as he nudged the pins into place, getting the lock open in just under twenty seconds.
He opened the gate and stepped aside to let Harun in. He put in a piece of duct tape to keep the gate from locking behind them and pulled it shut. They walked up the stairs as fast as they could without being audible to any of the residents. They stopped at the landing of the fourth floor and crept to the door of their quarry’s apartment.
“You’re sure he lives alone, right?” whispered Conley, pulling out his tools once more and inserting the torsion wrench into the lock, working as quietly as he could.
“That is what his file said,” Harun responded, shrugging.
The lock gave, and Conley very slowly turned the knob. He pushed it open, and then met with a sudden resistance. There was a security chain on the door. Conley took two short paces back, drew his gun, and kicked the door in. He took the lead and ran inside, with Harun close behind him.
It was a small apartment, dark except for the dim yellow light coming in from the streetlights outside. They were in a combination kitchen and dining room. There were two doors, and one led to a bathroom. Conley ran ahead to the other, to the bedroom, which he opened and found Parvez Nutkani, young, wiry, with longish hair on his head and no hair on his face, wearing tan cotton pajamas that were moist with sweat. The man woke up with a start, eyes wide, looking around like a terrified animal. Harun talked to him in Urdu.
“Stay. Do not move. We will not hurt you if you cooperate.”
Conley clicked on the light. The room was cramped, with a narrow single bed in its center. There, Nutkani lay cowering, wide-eyed. Harun had his gun pointed straight at the man’s face a few inches away.
“Will you keep still?” Harun asked.
“I will,” Nutkani responded weakly, in Urdu.
“Good,” said Harun, lowering his gun, but making sure to keep it in Nutkani’s line of sight. “We just want to ask you some questions.”
This seemed to make Nutkani even more nervous, but he didn’t move. His wide
Bingo.
Alex ran back up to street level. She found a button to open the garage door and walked out into the brisk early morning air. Very satisfied, she got back on her motorcycle and rode away, the roar of the motor echoing between the sheer faces of tall buildings. She had found the place. For the time being, that would be enough.
Chapter 12
May 28
Islamabad
“T his is it,” said Harun. He turned the Daihatsu into the parking lot of a low-cost apartment block, not a mile away from one of the city slums. It was a dark night. Working streetlights were few and far between, and there was no one to be seen out on the street.
“Are you sure?” asked Conley.
“That’s the address for Parvez Nutkani.” Harun had made some phone calls to the city hospitals. It took him three hours, but he got the names of the driver and the emergency responder who had been in the ambulance that carried away the injured attacker. An additional call had gotten their addresses.
“He is in building number four,” Harun added. It took them a few minutes to determine which building was which. It was dark, and the numbers that weren’t missing were hardly visibly placed. Luckily, there was no security to speak of, and they had the run of the place. Still, the whole operation was sloppy and rushed. They might have waited to get together a tactical team and run a well-organized op, but in a race against time, Conley knew you had to work with what you had. And what they had was just the two of them in a Daihatsu beater.
Harun found a spot and parked, and they skulked along the shadows to the outer gate to the apartment building. Conley slipped his lock-pick tools from the pocket of his khakis. He inserted the lock pick and the torsion wrench. His fingers moved deftly as he nudged the pins into place, getting the lock open in just under twenty seconds.
He opened the gate and stepped aside to let Harun in. He put in a piece of duct tape to keep the gate from locking behind them and pulled it shut. They walked up the stairs as fast as they could without being audible to any of the residents. They stopped at the landing of the fourth floor and crept to the door of their quarry’s apartment.
“You’re sure he lives alone, right?” whispered Conley, pulling out his tools once more and inserting the torsion wrench into the lock, working as quietly as he could.
“That is what his file said,” Harun responded, shrugging.
The lock gave, and Conley very slowly turned the knob. He pushed it open, and then met with a sudden resistance. There was a security chain on the door. Conley took two short paces back, drew his gun, and kicked the door in. He took the lead and ran inside, with Harun close behind him.
It was a small apartment, dark except for the dim yellow light coming in from the streetlights outside. They were in a combination kitchen and dining room. There were two doors, and one led to a bathroom. Conley ran ahead to the other, to the bedroom, which he opened and found Parvez Nutkani, young, wiry, with longish hair on his head and no hair on his face, wearing tan cotton pajamas that were moist with sweat. The man woke up with a start, eyes wide, looking around like a terrified animal. Harun talked to him in Urdu.
“Stay. Do not move. We will not hurt you if you cooperate.”
Conley clicked on the light. The room was cramped, with a narrow single bed in its center. There, Nutkani lay cowering, wide-eyed. Harun had his gun pointed straight at the man’s face a few inches away.
“Will you keep still?” Harun asked.
“I will,” Nutkani responded weakly, in Urdu.
“Good,” said Harun, lowering his gun, but making sure to keep it in Nutkani’s line of sight. “We just want to ask you some questions.”
This seemed to make Nutkani even more nervous, but he didn’t move. His wide
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