Manhunt (Michael Bennett 10.50)

An Army major in uniform said, “I can see recruiting people inside the US like that, but this was someone living in Russia or Kazakhstan. There were some serious expenses. This is a step above some of the spur-of-the-moment attacks ISIS has inspired.”

Dan Santos said, “It’s hard to tell exactly what happened until we catch this guy. Our intelligence indicates that shifting to using trucks and cars and simple attacks like this has a major effect on public opinion. Anytime a group uses the fear of something common to exploit terror, they’re eating away at our way of life. Berlin and Paris are perfect examples. There’ll be kids there in ten years that jump at the sight of a truck. It’s important that we move before this guy comes up with anything else to do.”

Darya said, “Russia has seen some of this. Several attacks using trucks that plow into crowds.”

When she sat down next to me I said, “I haven’t seen those att

acks in Russia on the news.” This was a private conversation, not intended for the others.

“We don’t have a need for everything to be public. Perhaps your government should try that approach occasionally.”

I said, “Let’s not get into a conversation about whose government is more effective.”

“You’re right, of course.”

I said, “This wasn’t some kid trying to get famous. I agree with our colleague in the Army. This attack was organized and funded. It was too big to try and keep quiet in a free country. The US government generally makes information about attacks public. Even if keeping things secret works for Russia, it’s not the way we do things.”

Darya smiled and said, “I know Americans have a fixation with fame and publicity. You also have many more TV networks than Russia. But sometimes it’s better to handle things quietly and not cause a panic. I fear this is a lesson the US will have a chance to learn in the coming years.”

I hoped that wasn’t the case.

Chapter 15

Dan Santos surprised me. As soon as our early morning briefing was done, he grabbed Darya and me and said, “I lined up some interviews we can do today.”

I withheld any smartass comment, because I wanted to encourage this kind of behavior.

Darya looked bored, but stood up and gathered her things.

Santos said, “Pretty exciting, huh? Your first interviews on a major terror investigation.”

I mumbled, “Yeah. Our first interviews. Exciting.” I could barely meet Darya’s eyes.

She had a wide grin, but Santos was too wrapped up in his own world to notice.

The first stop we made was in lower Manhattan near the NYU campus, a small deli on University Place. It was still early and the place was nearly empty.

I caught up to Dan, who was walking pretty fast from the car, and said, “Are you hungry? What would this deli have to offer us for the case?”

“It’s not the deli, but who’s working there.” He pulled a photograph of a young man with a dark complexion and short-cropped, black hair. “His name is Abdul Adair, he’s from the United Arab Emirates. He’s studying biology at NYU and works here part-time.”

“What led you to him?”

“What do you mean? He’s a Muslim, first of all. He attends virtually all of the Muslim student union meetings, and we have intel that he has acted suspiciously and taken a lot of photographs of New York.”

That response actually gave me more questions than answers, but I wanted to see how this would go. Santos had just described a college student who likes to sightsee.

We stepped in the doors and no one paid any attention to us, the sign of a good neighborhood. A couple of little kids chased the deli cat and a young mother lazily followed them while chatting on her cell phone. The smell of the chicken cutlet hero the cook was wrapping up for a customer reminded me I had forgotten to eat breakfast. My stomach growled.

Santos stepped to the counter and asked about Abdul. A minute later, we were sitting at a small table in the corner, next to a refrigerator stocked with smoothies that cost seven bucks each.

The student from the UAE was twenty-one and small. He couldn’t have been over five foot five and 130 pounds, which made him look even younger. The kid was already trembling.

Santos spent a few minutes clarifying Abdul’s information. The whole process only seemed to make the young man more nervous. I scooted my chair back slightly because I didn’t want to be in the splash zone if he vomited.

Then Santos asked a series of questions. “Have you ever had contact with an organization that espouses jihad? Don’t lie. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

The young man vigorously shook his head.