Captain Stein thanked Inspector Moody and added, "I also have assurances from the Police Commissioner that all uniformed officers will be briefed before their duty tours. Also, today, the Commissioner is meeting with all the Police Commissioners from the surrounding suburban counties and municipalities, seeking their full cooperation and support. This means that over seventy thousand law enforcement officers in the metropolitan area are looking for the same man. This is, in effect, the single biggest manhunt in the history of the New York metropolitan area."

I noticed that Alan Parker was making copious notes, maybe to use in a news release, or maybe he was writing a TV mini-series. I don't particularly trust writers.

Stein said, "Meanwhile, our first focus is the Mideastern community," and turned it over to Gabriel Haytham.

Haytham stood and looked around the room. As the only Arab and Muslim person present, he could have been a little paranoid, but after years of working with the NYPD Intelligence Unit, and now with the ATTF, Sergeant Gabriel Haytham was cool. He once confided to me, "My real name is Jibril-means Gabriel in Arabic. But don't let that get around-I'm trying to pass as a WASP."

I like a guy with a sense of humor, and Gabe needed a very good sense of humor and sense of self to do what he was doing. I mean, it's not too difficult being an Arab-American in New York, but being an Arab-American Muslim assigned to the Mideast section of the Anti-Terrorist Task Force took big balloons. I wonder what Gabriel tells his buddies down at the mosque? Like, "Hey, Abdul, I busted two Salami-Salamis last night." Not likely.

Sergeant Haytham was the commander of the stakeout units, the NYPD detectives assigned to the ATTF who did the actual legwork, keeping track of people who were suspected of having ties to extremist organizations. These guys sat for hours outside of apartments and houses, took photos, used long-range audio detection equipment and tape recorders, and followed people in cars, subways, taxis, trains, buses, and on foot-stuff that the FBI guys couldn't or wouldn't do. The job sucked, but it was the meat and potatoes of the ATTF. A lot of time and money went into this, and the Mideast community wasn't too happy about being under the eye all the time, but, as the saying goes, "If you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about."

Anyway, Gabriel was informing us, "Between about five P.M. Saturday and now, the stakeout people dropped their cover, and they turned the city inside out and upside down. We managed to get consent searches and blanket search warrants that covered everything except the Mayor's bedroom. We questioned about eight hundred people in their homes, in station houses, on the street, in their places of business, and here-civic leaders, suspects, regular Yusefs, and even Muslim religious leaders."

I couldn't resist saying to Gabe, "If we don't hear from at least twenty Arab League civil rights lawyers by noon, you're not doing your job."

Everyone got a good chuckle out of that one. Even Kate laughed.

Gabe said to me, "Hey, we sweated the Arab League lawyers, too. They're hiring Jewish lawyers to file suit."

Again, everyone laughed, but the laughter was a little strained. This was, after all, a bit awkward. But a little humor goes a long way toward dealing with touchy subjects. I mean, there was a lot of cultural diversity in the room, and we hadn't even heard from the Polish guy, Captain Wydrzynski, yet. I had a great Polish joke, but maybe I'd hold it for another time.

Gabriel went on without blowing his horn too much and had to admit, "I've got to tell you, we have not one single lead. Not a glimmer. Not even the regular crap of somebody trying to pin a bum rap on their father-in-law. No one wants to touch this one. But we've got another thousand or so people to question, and we've got a hundred more places to search. Also, we're doubling back on some people and places. We're putting maximum heat on the Mideast community, and, yeah, we may be stepping on some civil rights, but we'll worry about that later." He added, "We're not torturing anybody."

Koenig remarked dryly, " Washington will appreciate your restraint."

Gabriel said to Jack, "Most of these people come from countries where police beatings are used before the first question is asked. The people we're talking to get confused if you don't at least get a little physical with them."

Koenig cleared his throat and said, "I don't think we need to hear that. In any case, Sergeant, we don't-"

Sergeant Haytham interrupted, "We've got over three hundred corpses lying in city and hospital morgues. And we don't know how many more dead are yet to come. I don't want one more corpse on my watch."

Koenig considered a moment, but with the hidden microphone in mind, said nothing.

Sergeant Gabriel Haytham sat.

There was a stillness in the room. Everyone probably had the same thought, which was that Sergeant Gabriel Haytham could get away with some rough stuff regarding his co-religionists. This, of course, may have been one of the reasons that Sergeant Haytham had been picked for his job. Also, he was good at what he did. Most of the successes of the ATTF were the result of the NYPD stakeout guys. All the other stuff-walk-in informants, foreign intelligence sources, phone tips, convicted snitches, and such-didn't get as much information as the guys out on the bricks.

Port Authority Captain Wydrzynski got up and informed us, "All the Port Authority police, plus all toll takers and other PA personnel at transportation terminals have been given a photograph of Asad Khalil, plus a memo explaining that this fugitive is now the most wanted man in America.

We tried to play down the Flight One-Seven-Five connection-as per orders-but the word is out."

Captain Wydrzynski went on a bit. This was one of those cases where the Port Authority police played a big role. Fugitives on the run would eventually cross the path of a ticket agent, or a toll taker, or a Port Authority cop at a bus terminal or airport. Therefore, it was important that these people were up and running, and motivated.

As for Henry Wydrzynski, I didn't know the guy, but-well, okay, here's the joke. This Polish guy goes into the optometrist's office, and the optometrist says to the guy, "Can you read that chart?" And the guy says, "Sure, I know all those guys."

Anyway, though I didn't know Captain Wydrzynski, I knew that like most Port Authority cops, he had a little attitude. What they wanted was recognition and respect, so most smart NYPD, like me, gave it to them. They were good, they were helpful, and they were useful. If you messed with them, they'd find a way to screw you big-time, like putting a thousand bucks charge on your E-Z Pass or something.

Wydrzynski was a big guy in an ill-fitting suit, like seven pounds of Polish sausage stuffed into a five-pound casing. He also seemed to lack any charm or diplomacy, and I liked that.

Jack Koenig asked Captain Eye-Chart, "When was the photo of Khalil in the hands of your people?"

Captain Wydrzynski replied, "We had hundreds of these photos made up as soon as we could. As each batch was copied, we sent patrol cars out to the bridges, tunnels, airports, bus stations, and so forth. Also, we faxed photos to every place that has a fax machine, and we did the same over the Internet." He looked around the room and said, "I'd guess that by nine P.M. Saturday, everybody in our command had a copy of Khalil's photo. Sooner, in some cases. But I gotta tell you, the quality of the photo sucked."

Captain Stein said, "So, conceivably, Asad Khalil could have boarded a flight, or taken a bus, or crossed a bridge or tunnel before nine P.M., and not been noticed."

"That's right," Wydrzynski replied. He added, "We did get the word and photo out to the airports first, but if the fugitive was quick, he could have boarded a flight-especially at JFK where he already was."