Contents

The Gutenberg Rubric

Twenty-Four

THINGS WERE GOING WELL for Fry. The exchange of information that led to the capture of the three would-be terrorists left both U.S. and Egyptian agents in a cooperative mood. Ultimately one of the terrorists decided to cooperate as well. The group claimed to be an off-shoot of a longstanding anti-government faction that was recruited for the attack via the Internet. They knew nothing about tracking a phone. According to the informant, they had been contacted over a week ago. They were told to stand by for a man to call them and provide what they needed. The man had called the night before and provided $50,000. They were to receive an additional $50,000 when the front of the library was damaged.

“That implies that they knew Drucker and Zayne’s planned moves in advance,” Fry said to Leroy Anderson as they went over the report. “But according to Drucker, they didn’t know where they were headed.”

“Which could mean that the bad guys have sleepers waiting in front of libraries all over the world,” Anderson replied. “Whoever is coordinating this would just have to sit back and watch a computer screen, then make a phone call when they see where the two are headed.”

“That doesn’t fit with the bomber in Mainz, though,” Fry argued. “If she was the same person who triggered the explosion at the Kane, she had to be following Drucker.”

“It’s not fitting together,” Anderson argued. “If the guy the Egyptians interrogated here is telling the truth, they received a personal hand-off of instructions and money. That still means that the mastermind is traveling to every location.”

“Or that they have cells awaiting instructions that are conveniently located near each of their targets,” Fry acknowledged. “The question is, how long before they realize that Drucker wasn’t in Egypt?”

“They have to already know the attack here wasn’t successful,” Anderson said thoughtfully.

Officer Salah, the Egyptian agent working with them, came into the room carrying the cell phones that Frank had carried into Egypt. He laid a third phone on the table as well.

“The suspect identified this phone as the one on which he received the call instructing him to proceed with the attack,” Salah said without preamble. He pushed the phone toward Fry and then pointed to each of the others in turn. “This is the phone belonging to Keith Drucker and this one to Madeline Zayne. We checked the call history for each phone. We do not have quite the same civil liberty protections in Egypt that you are used to in the United States. We were unable to get information regarding the owners of all numbers as that is controlled by companies in the United States who were uncooperative. However, Ms. Zayne’s phone was last used to call a man listed in her contacts as Joey.”

“Yes, we were aware that Ms. Zayne called her brother from Indianapolis on the 14th,” Fry said. “Did she call him since then?”

“No,” Salah answered. “Ms. Zayne is not suspected. However, we used the caller ID log to determine the call to the suspect was made from this Joey’s phone.”

“Now we are getting somewhere,” Anderson said. “I’ll get Hu on tracking down Yousef Wadsworth’s phone records to see who else he’s been talking to.”

“That would be a good thing.” Salah looked like a man who couldn’t believe he’d been doing work the U.S. government should have done already. He sniffed. “Unfortunately, the only other call Joey made while in Egypt was to a prepaid phone. He called it both before and after the incident. We have no record of who owns this prepaid phone or where that person is.”

“Wait,” Fry said. “While he was in the country?”

“The last recorded location of Joey’s phone was at the Cairo International Airport. It was then taken off the grid. We must assume that he boarded a flight. That was at 9:30 this morning,” Salah completed. He threw a printed sheet of paper on the table. “This is a list of flights that departed at about that time. Geneva, Paris, Frankfurt, Madrid, Istanbul, Amsterdam. The next cities are domestic flights and since the phone has not returned to our grid, we assume he did not leave the plane again in Egypt.” Salah pushed the phones and the flight schedules across the table to Fry and raised his hands in a shrug. “Good luck,” he said simply and left the room.

“I think the new era of cooperation with Egyptian Security has just ended,” Anderson said. “What next?”

“Gather up the elder Mr. Drucker and get him home at our expense. Fly him First Class, he’s been through a lot. But first, make sure he gets a private guided tour of the Library of Alexandria. You should be able to use your new friendship with Officer Salah to arrange things.” Fry grinned at his coworker. “I’ll call the Chief and tell him what we need in the way of phone records. It looks like Joey is our key player. But he may only be the operative. We need to know who else he’s been calling and everywhere he’s been,” Fry said. “I’d better continue on to Turkey and join the two librarians like I said I would.”

“Let’s roll,” Anderson said. Fry’s cell phone rang.

“Agent Fry,” said the voice on the other end of the call, “This is Captain Coolidge at Incirlik Air Base. Sir, we have just discovered that the driver we sent to pick up your package was found by Adana City Police. He was murdered. There is no sign of his vehicle or of the two people he was to escort.”

“Shit!” Fry exclaimed. “Do you have a track on the GPS signal I gave you?”

“That is also apparently dead,” the Captain said.

Fry’s plane touched down at Incirlik U.S. Air Base in Adana seven hours later. The trip to Cairo had been nearly as long as the flight to Turkey and Fry was chafing to be on the road. It was at least five hours more to Adiyaman and they would be lucky to be near Nemrud Dagi by morning. He spent the flight time on the phone, first clearing the mission with his chief and then trying to get support at the air base. The Air Force commander would not send a U.S. helicopter on an unauthorized flight across Turkey. And he was unwilling to send a car and driver until morning.

Fry’s Kurdish parents had relatives within a hundred miles of the air base. He had met them only once on a trip with his parents to their homeland, but Fry knew them well enough to call on them for help. They had no fear of traveling the roads at night.

“Agent Fry,” the base commander said sternly, “I cannot prevent you from leaving the base, but you need to know that once you cross that boundary, you are no longer under the protection of the United States Air Force. You look like a local and the chance that we would even be contacted in the event of your capture or death is remote. We can clear channels to get an appropriate escort for you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow may be too late,” Fry said. “We’re operating blind at the moment and I need to be at the site when the sun rises. I’ll take my chances with the escort I’ve arranged, and would encourage you not to contact Turkish authorities with word of my mission. As far as you are concerned, I sneaked off base in the middle of the night and you don’t know where I was headed.”

“That is not so far from the truth,” the commander said. “But off the record, good luck.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“And kindly try to be far away before you get killed.”

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