I suppressed a smile as I watched Ed Lindell get up on his hands and knees and shake his head to clear the stars.
“I think that was her way of saying she doesn’t have time for your shit.”
From the floor, Lindell said, “All she had to say was, ‘Cut the shit.’”
“Frankly, I like her way better. But we’re wasting time. We aren’t here to watch you get the shit kicked out of you by a pretty woman. We need you to put out feelers about anything unusual related to someone trying to get out of the city or trying to buy a gun or explosives.”
Lindell slowly rose to his feet and said, “This have to do with the bombing at the parade?”
“How did you know that?”
“Because I went to Penn State and I’m no idiot. That’s all anyone is interested in right now. What will it get me?”
The universal question by informants. I thought about it and said, “Depends on what you give us. But it’ll save you more lumps from this lady and you’ll be in my good graces for a very, very long time.”
Lindell said, “That and some toilet paper means I could take a shit.”
Still without looking or acknowledging him, Darya raised a closed fist and caught Lindell across the left side of his face, knocking him against the wall and back onto the floor. She walked out without saying a word.
I nodded to Lindell on the floor and hustled out after Darya.
As we walked a block toward the car, she said, “You’re not upset that I assaulted that man?”
“He’s had worse. I’ve given him worse.”
Darya said, “You don’t want to know why I did it?”
“I assume you did it to hide the fact that you stole the 9 millimeter pistol he had sitting on the table.” I didn’t wait for an answer. I just held out my hand.
She slipped the gun out of her purse and laid it in my palm. “This is America. I’ll be able to find a gun if I need it.”
All signs pointed to her being a pretty good partner. I’d be able to work with her.
Chapter 14
The next morning everyone was in the task force meeting rooms early. Even some of the FBI agents seemed a little annoyed at all the planning and meetings we had gone through the day before. As far as I could tell, Darya and I were part of a handful that had actually gone out and done something. Not that we were telling anyone.
And of course, we started off the day with a stupid meeting. At least I thought it was stupid, until things got rolling.
Dan Santos went over some of the information they had learned the day before, including some of the forensic information from examining the destroyed truck.
Santos said, “There wasn’t a lot to grab from the truck—mainly chemical residue that will be used to track down the exact manufacturer of the explosive. The ATF did manage to lift a fingerprint off the inside of the steering wheel, so we put a rush on it to every agency and database in the country. No hits came back. But our esteemed colleague from the Russian Embassy”—he turned and opened his hand toward Darya, as if he were a ringmaster announcing an act—“has found the print in a Russian military database.”
Santos nodded to Darya, who stood up. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, as if she was trying to make the announcement more dramatic after the dull crime-scene analysis.
Darya said, “The fingerprint belongs to a thirty-one-year-old male named Temir Marat. His father was raised in Kazakhstan and his mother is an ethnic Russian. He spent his early years in Kazakhstan, then bounced back and forth between there and Russia.”
I noticed everyone taking furious notes, but I still hadn’t heard anything that would tell me where this asshole was.
Darya continued. “Marat served a stint in the Russian army, and that’s how we got his fingerprint on file. He has no history of extremism, but the FBI says that’s very common. There’s little else known about him.”
Someone from the back room called out, “Do we have a photograph of him?”
Darya shook her head. “It’s printing now. It’s five years old. It’s from an application to the Moscow police. There is an older photo from when he entered the army, but he is much younger and he has a buzz cut.”
I wrote one line in my little notebook. Applied to police. Why?
An Asian woman who worked for the FBI said, “I don’t think a history of extremist views is necessary anymore. The way some of these groups recruit leads many without previous violent histories to join. In fact, it’s a good move to recruit people not on any terrorist watch lists. This guy sounds like the perfect choice. Smart, unafraid of death, and able to blend in with the general population in the US. He could’ve been recruited from a website.”