Ambush (Michael Bennett 11)

Santos walked me over to a woman sitting at a table in the corner. I could tell she was making a complete assessment of me with her pale-blue eyes. Apparently, I didn’t impress or disturb her, because she didn’t say a word and looked back at a report she was reading.

Santos said, “NYPD Detective Michael Bennett, meet our liaison from the Russian Embassy, Darya Kuznetsova.”

The woman extended her hand and said with almost no accent, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Her blond hair muted her hard-edged look. She was athletic, with broad shoulders, and attractive in every sense of the word. But something about her told me I’d never want to tangle with her.

Not knowing what else to do, I sat at the long table next to her. I tried to make small talk, without much success. Finally, I came right to the point and said, “What’s your job with the Russian Embassy?”

She turned that pretty face to me and said, “For now, I am the Russian liaison to this investigation.”

“I realize that. What is your title at the embassy?”

“I am just an assistant to the ambassador. They thought it would be a good idea for me to work with you because of Russia’s own issues with terrorists, and I might see or hear something that American police officers might overlook due to differing cultures.”

I said, “Am I missing something? Why would Russian culture be important in this investigation?”

That’s when Dan Santos said, “I think all your questions will be answered during our briefing. Believe me, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Chapter 9

SANTOS STOOD UP in front of the gathered agents and NYPD people to get everyone’s attention. There were maybe twenty-five people in the room now. The tall agent looked confident as he straightened his blue tie and faced the crowd. Of course, few people got to run a case like this unless they were confident. It was a key element to getting people to do what you needed them to do.

Santos gave a recap of what had happened, but he didn’t say anything I had not already heard or personally witnessed.

We had several videos taken from bystanders’ phones that covered almost every angle of the attack. He played all the videos a few times, ending them all just as the truck came to an abrupt halt and the driver stepped out and yelled, “Hawqala!”

Santos said, “Based on our analysis and the attacker’s accent, we believe he is a Russian speaker from Kazakhstan. To help us with language and context, we have Darya Kuznetsova, who will be working the investigation with us.”

Suddenly the attacker’s neat hair and blue eyes made more sense. Perhaps even his training. This was a wrinkle I had not been expecting.

Santos continued. “The Russians have excellent contacts with the Kazakhstan Security Forces and have a shared interest in working with us to curb terrorism.”

We watched another video and some of the aftermath, and then Santos broke us down into smaller groups and explained what everyone would be doing. One group was only following up with interviews of witnesses. Another was working with informa

nts to see if anything was being talked about on the street. A third group, which included analysts, was scouring computer databanks to see if it could find information that might shed some light on the attack.

When Santos said, “Any questions?” I could see the annoyance in his eyes when I raised my hand. He said, “Go ahead, Bennett.”

“What, exactly, does hawqala mean?”

“Literally it means, ‘There is no power nor strength save by Allah.’”

“I’ve never heard it before. Is it common?”

“Not in attacks like this. We’re looking into it.” He looked around the room. “Anything else?”

Once again, I raised my hand.

Santos just looked at me.

“Is there some significance to hawqala? Could it mean he’s after something else or representing a certain group?”

“As I said, we’re looking into it.” Then he quickly moved on and introduced Steve Barborini from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives.

The tall, lean ATF man stood and looked around the room. He didn’t use notes when he spoke. That meant he knew what he was talking about and he was confident about his subject matter. I liked that.

The ATF agent said, “Obviously we’re still processing the van, the explosive, and parts of the scene. It looks like the device was fairly simple. It contained a five-gallon paint jug with an explosive made up mostly of commercial Tannerite, which is a brand name for the most popular binary explosive on the market. We’re not absolutely sure how many pounds were crammed into the paint jug, but we’re guessing it was at least twenty.”