here. Well, for now, the plan is to hold steady. We’re making progress, and the calls from Washington are finally slowing down.”
“Yeah, yeah, I think that’s right,” said Fancher. He reached a hand out for another pastry, lifted it, and at the last moment, tore it in half.
“We’ve got the ringleaders in jail. The billions of dollars spent on computers at Homeland Security are monitoring cell calls and emails, looking for keywords. Any alerts come to me directly.”
“Keep the telephone intercepts in place,” Mavis said. “Keep our informants fresh. Good idea.” Mavis puffed her breath out. “It’s getting better. Especially, the suburban Somalis. They’re a little more integrated into the community … but that’s not saying much. The clans don’t agree on many things, they look down on each other, won’t cooperate much, fight amongst themselves and distrust almost everyone except their own people.”
“Local police helpful?”
“Yeah, but they get the same response we do.”
Conway’s eyes surveyed the agents around the table. “There’s a Somali elder; can’t remember his name or even pronounce it for that matter. He says that a combination of our investigation, national attention, and more vigilant parents has caused the recruiting to drop. ‘It’s over,’ he says.” Conway paused to wait for comments or support. “Well, I guess we agree to keep on truckin’.”
Paul spoke, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Bill.”
“What else do you think we can do?”
“As you know, I’ve got myself ‘embedded’ in the murder case going on now. The defense lawyer’s a friend of mine. Although she can never reveal confidential things, of course I’ll get information from their investigation. It’ll be like working with an informant.”
“To what end, Paul?” Mavis asked.
“I’m not sure. But remember, I got the first call five years ago. Something was going on way back then.”
“The Shabaab militia?” Mavis said.
“Didn’t really pick up traction until 2006. So, what were they doing here in the high schools long before that?”
“Laying the ground work, obviously.”
“I think there’s more … Didn’t you hear the news this morning? On Minnesota Public Radio? There’s a new wave of protests breaking out in the Somali community. Nothing like we’ve seen before. What’s it mean?”
“Paul, you’re a great agent, but you’ve just come off probation,” Bill interrupted. “In my experience the simple explanation is usually the right one. We’ve got the explanation now. I used to tell that to Reagan all the time when I was in the Attorney General’s office. He liked it simple.” Conway looked back at the group. “The activity’s down, so I think we’ve succeeded.”
“But why did the Ahmed boy come back? None of the other missing men has returned. Why this one? And why was he killed here?”
“Let the local prosecutor figure that one out. It’s not our jurisdiction anyway.” He turned away.
“But Bill …”
“Back off.” Conway spun to face Paul. “Let me tell you something. You didn’t get all the goddamn pressure from the press, the public, congressmen, the Director, or the agencies before we finally broke this case. It was hell. Right now, we’ve got the case solved, the organizers are in jail, and things are quiet. If you poke some hornet’s nest, all the shit starts over again. And for what? You ‘think there’s more,’” Conway imitated Paul’s voice. “But until you know you’ve got something solid, I don’t want you stirring things up again. Am I perfectly clear?” He poked Paul in the chest with a pointed finger.
Bill was so close to Paul’s face, he could smell stale cigarette smoke on Conway. Paul knew him well enough to understand the order and dismissal. He looked from one agent to another as he scanned the room. Good people, good agents, but like most groups, once a decision was made, it was difficult to alter the
“Yeah, yeah, I think that’s right,” said Fancher. He reached a hand out for another pastry, lifted it, and at the last moment, tore it in half.
“We’ve got the ringleaders in jail. The billions of dollars spent on computers at Homeland Security are monitoring cell calls and emails, looking for keywords. Any alerts come to me directly.”
“Keep the telephone intercepts in place,” Mavis said. “Keep our informants fresh. Good idea.” Mavis puffed her breath out. “It’s getting better. Especially, the suburban Somalis. They’re a little more integrated into the community … but that’s not saying much. The clans don’t agree on many things, they look down on each other, won’t cooperate much, fight amongst themselves and distrust almost everyone except their own people.”
“Local police helpful?”
“Yeah, but they get the same response we do.”
Conway’s eyes surveyed the agents around the table. “There’s a Somali elder; can’t remember his name or even pronounce it for that matter. He says that a combination of our investigation, national attention, and more vigilant parents has caused the recruiting to drop. ‘It’s over,’ he says.” Conway paused to wait for comments or support. “Well, I guess we agree to keep on truckin’.”
Paul spoke, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Bill.”
“What else do you think we can do?”
“As you know, I’ve got myself ‘embedded’ in the murder case going on now. The defense lawyer’s a friend of mine. Although she can never reveal confidential things, of course I’ll get information from their investigation. It’ll be like working with an informant.”
“To what end, Paul?” Mavis asked.
“I’m not sure. But remember, I got the first call five years ago. Something was going on way back then.”
“The Shabaab militia?” Mavis said.
“Didn’t really pick up traction until 2006. So, what were they doing here in the high schools long before that?”
“Laying the ground work, obviously.”
“I think there’s more … Didn’t you hear the news this morning? On Minnesota Public Radio? There’s a new wave of protests breaking out in the Somali community. Nothing like we’ve seen before. What’s it mean?”
“Paul, you’re a great agent, but you’ve just come off probation,” Bill interrupted. “In my experience the simple explanation is usually the right one. We’ve got the explanation now. I used to tell that to Reagan all the time when I was in the Attorney General’s office. He liked it simple.” Conway looked back at the group. “The activity’s down, so I think we’ve succeeded.”
“But why did the Ahmed boy come back? None of the other missing men has returned. Why this one? And why was he killed here?”
“Let the local prosecutor figure that one out. It’s not our jurisdiction anyway.” He turned away.
“But Bill …”
“Back off.” Conway spun to face Paul. “Let me tell you something. You didn’t get all the goddamn pressure from the press, the public, congressmen, the Director, or the agencies before we finally broke this case. It was hell. Right now, we’ve got the case solved, the organizers are in jail, and things are quiet. If you poke some hornet’s nest, all the shit starts over again. And for what? You ‘think there’s more,’” Conway imitated Paul’s voice. “But until you know you’ve got something solid, I don’t want you stirring things up again. Am I perfectly clear?” He poked Paul in the chest with a pointed finger.
Bill was so close to Paul’s face, he could smell stale cigarette smoke on Conway. Paul knew him well enough to understand the order and dismissal. He looked from one agent to another as he scanned the room. Good people, good agents, but like most groups, once a decision was made, it was difficult to alter the
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