“Leave it alone,” the mother said. “It’s fine where it is.”
“I need to check it,” he said.
“I’m not going to have you opening that in here. You can check it when we arrive. Don’t be so nervous.”
Tariq ignored the woman’s suggestion as well as her insulting manner. He pulled a reinforced aluminum alloy briefcase from the back and set it on his lap.
Her hand flew across the space between them in a way that showed some training. In a moment, her fingers were locked around Tariq’s throat, pressing him back into the seat.
But Hala was having none of it. Her Sig was out and against the self-appointed queen’s temple almost as quickly.
“Get your hand off of him,” she said.
“I told you to leave it alone,” the woman said, speaking to Tariq, not Hala.
“Everyone calm down!” The father shouted at them from the front, while the two boys looked on with wide eyes and closed mouths. Tariq stayed where he was, both hands still on the case’s spring clasps.
“Now,” Hala said evenly. “If he says he needs to check the case, he’s going to check it. We’re all here for the same reason. Isn’t that right, sister?”
She kept the Sig where it was, waiting for her answer. Finally, the mother bitc
h sat back, though not without a last, searing look at Hala.
“That’s much better,” Hala said. “Use that murder in your eyes for the benefit of The Family. Our enemies are outside the minivan, not in it.”
“Go to hell” was the answer she got.
It was a shame, Hala thought. Here was a woman she could respect on any other night. She was exactly the kind of soldier the movement needed. In any case, this argument meant nothing to the larger picture. It was time to focus, time to kill as many Americans as they could, time to send an unforgettable message.
Tariq worked slowly. He eased open the clasps on the case and gingerly lifted the lid. Nobody spoke as he began taking stock of the small metal canisters inside.
When the van bounced over a pothole on First Street, Hala saw the woman reach across for her younger son’s hand in the dark.
She’s just afraid for her children, thought Hala. She’s a good mother. Better than me.
THEY CAME TO a very sudden, jolting stop on a gravel utility road. Nerves on the part of the driver. To the right, a thick stand of hawthorn shielded them from traffic passing on New York Avenue.
To the left, Hala could see the rail yard through a chain-link fence. Dozens of dark-windowed subway cars slumped in rows on the tracks. Their deadly target for tonight.
Tariq kept charge of the aluminum alloy case. The mother, father, and younger boy each took a different piece of mismatched luggage from the back of the van, and then the older son drove off to circle the neighborhood.
Hala took up a position just to the west, on a pedestrian bridge that spanned the yard. She backtracked maybe thirty yards and climbed the winding metal stairs to the walkway above. Once she was up there, she found that the area was fully enclosed with more chain link. But the bridge still offered a perfect view.
From the center of the bridge, she checked once in each direction. “Clear,” she radioed softly.
It took a few minutes for the others to appear.
They looked like animated silhouettes as they moved out onto the tracks, laterally at first, and then up between the rows of train cars, where they disappeared. Sarin gas, Hala was thinking. This was impressive. It would resonate powerfully around the world.
Several minutes ticked by. Slowly, very slowly. There had been no word about how long it would take to install the material. Hala could actually hear them breathing as they worked, but conversation was held to a minimum.
She kept her eyes moving constantly. They swept the yard, over to Brentwood Road and T Street on the far side, then back again to the utility road nearer by, and New York Avenue beyond. It wasn’t difficult to stay alert. There was plenty of adrenaline for that.
So when a police cruiser appeared on the scene, Hala saw it right away. It eased down the utility road and came to a stop not far from their original drop-off location.
“Up near the bridge,” she said softly. “We may have a serious problem.”
“POLICE AT THE south fence. One car so far,” Hala whispered. “Hold your positions. I’m watching them. I can take them out if I have to. I hope not to do that.”