I replied, "I think he was gone when we got there."

"He may have been. Then again, maybe he wasn't. Maybe you bumped into him."

Kate said, "I think we would have recognized him."

"Do you? Not if he was wearing a baggage handler's jumpsuit, combed his hair differently, was wearing glasses and a phony mustache. But maybe he saw you. Maybe at some point he realized there were Federal agents or detectives on board. Think about that. Try to recall what happened and who you saw on the aircraft and in that security area."

Okay, Jack, I'll think about it. Thanks for mentioning it.

Koenig continued, "In any case, Khalil got into an empty baggage truck and drove off. At this point, most men who'd just pulled off one of the most ballsy moves-excuse my language-one of the most audacious moves in terrorist history, would get to the international terminal, get out of that jumpsuit under which was street clothing, and get on an outbound flight for Sandland-forgive my characterization of the Middle East. But no, Asad Khalil is not going home. Not yet. He has to make a stop at the Conquistador Club first. The rest, as they say, is history."

No one spoke for a full minute, then Koenig observed, "This is a very resourceful, clever, and bold individual. He exploits situations quickly and without hesitation or fear of getting caught. He relies on other people being either preoccupied or unaware that there is a psychopathic killer in their midsts. Speed, savagery, and shock. Decisiveness, daring, and deception. Understand?"

We all understood. If I had the inclination, I could tell Jack Koenig about ten or fifteen such killers I'd come across over the years. The really good psychotic killers were just as Koenig described. You couldn't believe the stuff they got away with. You couldn't believe how stupid and trusting their victims were.

Mr. Koenig continued his thoughts and said, "There are other scenarios regarding how Khalil's plan might work out. The worst scenario for him was that the aircraft simply crashed and killed everyone on board, including Khalil. He would have accepted that, I think, and called it a win.

We all sort of nodded. The boss was on.

"Another possibility," Koenig continued, "is that he'd get caught on the ground and be identified as the killer. That would also be okay with him. He'd still be a hero in Tripoli."

Again, we nodded, starting to appreciate not only Koenig, but also Khalil.

Koenig said, "Yet another possibility is that he escapes from the aircraft, but is not able to carry out his mission at the Conquistador Club. In any case, Asad Khalil couldn't lose once Yusef Haddad was on board with his medical oxygen and poison gas. In fact, even if Yusef Haddad had been stopped before he boarded the aircraft in Paris, Asad Khalil would still have wound up in the Conquistador Club, though he'd be guarded and cuffed. But who knows how that would have played out later?"

Everyone thought about Asad Khalil back at the Conquistador Club as planned. At what point would this guy go psychotic?

Mr. Koenig concluded with, "Other scenarios aside, Asad Khalil hit a grand-slam home run. He cleared the bases, and he's on the way to home plate-whether that means a safe house in America, or back to Libya, we don't know yet." He added, "But we'll play it as though he's close by and waiting to hit again."

Since we were out of facts and into speculation, I speculated, "I think this guy is a loner, and he won't be turning up at the usual watched houses or hanging around the local mosque with the usual suspects."

Kate concurred and added, "He may have one contact here, maybe the February guy, or someone else. Assuming he needs no help after the initial contact, we can expect to find another accomplice's body somewhere, soon. I'm also assuming he had a man at JFK to help get him out of there and that could be the guy who turns up dead. We should give the NYPD a heads-up on that."

Koenig nodded. He looked at Nash. "Why do you think he's gone?"

Nash didn't reply for a second or two, giving the impression that he was tired of casting pearls before swine. Finally, he leaned forward and looked at each of us. He said, "We've described Khalil's entrance into this country as grand and dramatic. And Mr. Koenig is correct that no matter how any of those scenarios played out, Khalil was a winner. He was ready to sacrifice his life in the service of Allah and join his brethren in Paradise. This was one hell of a risky way to sneak into a hostile country."

"We know that," Koenig said.

"Hear me out, Mr. Koenig. This is important, and actually some good news. All right, back this thing up and postulate that Asad Khalil was coming to America to blow up this building, or the one across the street, or all of New York City, or Washington. Postulate a nuclear device hidden somewhere, or more likely a ton of toxic gas or a thousand liters of anthrax. If Asad Khalil was the man who was supposed to deliver any of these weapons of mass death and destruction, then he would have come into Canada or Mexico on a false passport and slipped easily over the border to accomplish this important mission. He would not have arrived as he did with the high risk of getting caught or killed. What we saw today was a classical Seagull Mission…" He looked around at us and explained, "You know, a person flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps all over everything, then flies out. Mr. Khalil was on a Seagull Mission. Mission accomplished. He's gone."

So, we all thought about Seagull Missions. Old Ted had spoken and revealed that he had the IQ of at least a VCR. This was irrefutable logic. The silence in the room told me that everyone had finally seen the incandescent brilliance of Nash's mind at work.

Koenig nodded and said, "Makes sense to me."

Kate nodded, too, and said, "I think Ted is right. What Khalil was sent here to do, he did. There's no second act to come. His mission ended at JFK, and he was perfectly positioned to take any one of dozens of late afternoon flights out."

Koenig looked at me. "Mr. Corey?"

I, too, nodded. "Makes sense to me. Ted makes a strong case for his theory."

Koenig thought a moment and said, "Still, we have to proceed as if Khalil may still be in this country. We've notified every law enforcement agency in the U.S. and in Canada. We've also called up every ATTF agent we could find tonight, and we're staking out every place where a Mideast terrorist might turn up. We've also alerted the Port Authority police, NYPD, New Jersey, Connecticut, suburban counties, and so forth. The more time that goes by, the bigger the search area gets. If he's hiding out, perhaps waiting to get out of the country, we may still nab him close by. Containment is the first priority."

Nash informed us, "I called Langley from JFK, and they put out a high-priority watch-and-detain at all international airports where we have assets." He looked at me. "That means people who work for us, with us, or are us."

"Thank you. I read spy novels."

So, that was it. Asad Khalil was either already out of the country, or was in hiding, waiting to get out. This really did make the most sense, considering what happened today and how it happened.

There were, however, a few things that bothered me, a detail or two that didn't fit. The first and most obvious was the question of why Asad Khalil had turned himself in to the CIA liaison guy at the Paris Embassy. A much simpler plan would have been for Khalil to just get on board Trans-Continental Flight 175 with a false passport, the way Joe Smith, his accomplice, did. The same poison gas plan would have worked better if Khalil was not in cuffs, and not guarded by two armed Federal agents.

The thing Nash was missing was the human element, which is what you'd expect Nash to miss. You had to understand Asad Khalil to understand what he was up to. He didn't want to be another anonymous terrorist. He wanted to walk into the Paris Embassy, get himself cuffed and guarded, then escape like Houdini. This was still an in-your-fucking-face act on his part-not a Seagull Mission. He wanted to read what we knew about him, he wanted to cut off thumbs and go to the Conquistador Club and murder anyone who was there. It was definitely a high-risk operation, but what was unique about it was the personal nature of it. It was, in fact, an insult, a humiliation, like an ancient warrior riding alone into an enemy camp and raping the chief's wife.