Read Online Countdown to Mecca by Michael Savage - Free Book Online Page B

impatiently. “We were hoping you could save us some time.”
    â€œSure.” Jack calmly looked at the camera lens, then into the eyes of each man in the room, as if he had been waiting for the question. “I believe something very big and very bad is going on.”
    â€œHere?” Detective Jeffreys asked.
    â€œIn your city for starters,” Jack said.
    Jeffreys looked at Jack with more respect than Forsyth was giving him. The police captain had been at the Golden Gate Bridge years ago. He had been in Chinatown for the cleanup last year. He had even watched Truth Tellers during his ascension through the ranks. He wasn’t sure whether to nod encouragingly or ask for an autograph.
    â€œCarl,” Jack said, “I know you need more than my say-so to launch a big operation. So here’s what you have to do. Get positive identifications of the men who attacked us, and as much evidence as possible that the operation we stumbled on—‘Firebird’—could be the code name for a mass-destruction materials project that brought down a Russian passenger plane.”
    â€œYour shoot-out was related to the crash in the Black Sea?” Forsyth said dubiously.
    â€œTerrorism has gone global, or haven’t you noticed?”
    â€œWhat else aren’t you telling us?” Dover asked.
    He grinned at her. She knew him well. “We have sources saying that smuggled, enriched uranium may have been taken from that downed plane. Do you have any sources that suggest likewise?”
    â€œWho are these sources?” Forsyth asked.
    â€œNot now,” Jack said.
    Forsyth was about to call for corroboration, remembered the camera, did not bother retrieving his phone from his jacket pocket.
    â€œSuit yourself,” Jack said, aware that Forsyth was also a political animal who kept his cards facedown. “But I’ve already got people working on this. You don’t help me, I don’t help you.”
    â€œYou’d rather have weapons of mass destruction at large?” Dover said.
    â€œAsk your boss,” Jack replied. “He’s the guy who’s not sharing.”
    There was a thick, sudden silence.
    â€œWe’ll see what we can dig up on the hit squad, Mr. Hatfield,” Jeffreys said, standing, and putting his hand out.
    â€œThanks. You have my contact information.”
    The men shook hands. Forsyth just glared at Jack.
    â€œI will tell you one thing,” Jack said to the FBI director. “The person of interest? He’s bankrolling my investigation. And I’ll stack his resources against yours any day.”

 
    8
    Life at the safe house fell into a pattern. The next day, Ric was up early, keeping watch over their section of the building; Ana, her girls, and Sammy all slept late. Late morning, while Miwa and Ritu showered, Sammy and Ana started preparing breakfast, which they all ate together. Normally effervescent, the escorts were noticeably subdued. But even they didn’t miss the thoughtful, even longing glances their boss and the party clown exchanged while sharing their domestic chores.
    On Sol’s instructions, Ric approached their breakfast table on the first day, after having walked Eddie and cleaned up after him in the enclosed yard of the safe house. It wouldn’t do for any of them to be seen outside.
    â€œHey,” Ric said to the Asians while holding Eddie and scratching behind the poodle’s ear, “I know you’re supposed to be our guests and all, but we were wondering if you wouldn’t mind talking to the residents here? The lost girls.”
    Miwa and Ritu looked up at the bespectacled, burly man. He thought he noticed interest in their eyes.
    â€œThe caregivers we hired have training,” he continued eagerly, “but there’s nothin’ like advice from people who live the life, you know what I mean?”
    â€œYou assume they would try to talk them out of it?” Ana