Harvath doubted Aleem was his real name. He would have used a pseudonym as well.

“The man in America,” said Harvath as he raised the forceps again and hovered over the accountant’s foot, “what’s his code name?”

“Yusuf. We called him Yusuf.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“He is a businessman of some sort.”

“What kind of business?”

“I don’t know.”

Harvath debated shoving the forceps back inside the man’s foot, but held back. “You said he was an Iraqi. How long has he been in the United States?”

“I don’t know.”

“I am losing my patience, Khalil. You don’t seem to know much at all. Where in Iraq is the man from?”

“Fallujah. He comes from a large family there.”

“How do you know?”

“Iraqis like to brag about their families. He had a cousin who was the local commander of the National Guard. He talked about him a lot. He said that was how he was introduced to al-Qaeda.”

Harvath lowered the forceps. “What was his cousin’s name?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Try harder!” Harvath shouted. “Your family’s life depends on it.”

Al-Yaqoubi’s pulse was pounding as he searched his brain for the name. “Hadi? Halef? I can’t remember.”

Harvath looked at de Roon. “Call Rabat. Tell the DST that Khalil has been uncooperative and that they should begin.”

“Hakim!” the accountant yelled, the name rushing back to him. “His cousin’s name was Omar-Hakim.”

Omar-Hakim was the Iraqi National Guard commander Harvath had forced into helping him take down the al-Qaeda safe house outside Fallujah; the same safe house where the child hostages had been kept. Stunned, Harvath dropped the surgical instrument he was holding and ran from the infirmary.

Bursting through one of the exterior bulkheads, he began dialing the number for his contact in Fallujah before he even had a full-strength signal.

The call failed. Harvath cursed and dialed again. A few moments later, Mike Dent answered his phone.

“Mike, it’s Scot,” said Harvath. “Is Omar-Hakim still alive?”

“No,” replied the man from Fallujah. “He was tortured to death a couple of days after you dropped him off. Are you having an attack of conscience or something?”

The Iraqi had gotten what he deserved. In fact, he probably deserved much worse, but that didn’t matter now. “Do you know any of his family members in Fallujah?”

“I don’t know any of them, but everyone knows of them. Why?”

“He has a cousin. A businessman in America. I need you to find out everything you can about him.”

“How soon do you need it?” asked Dent.

“I need it immediately and I don’t care what you have to do to get it. Do you understand?”

“Can I use local talent?”

“Use whoever you have to and agree to pay them whatever they want,” said Harvath, “but you get me that information and you get it for me ASAP.”

CHAPTER 63

CHICAGO

I have already made provisions for weapons and ammunition,” said Marwan. “Your trip is not necessary. Focus on the remaining elements which need to be accomplished.”

Rashid tried to explain. “When we left the hotel, did you notice the two cops standing there?”

“Yes, I saw them, but I don’t-”

“How about their vests?”

“Level-two soft body armor,” said the man. “Level three if they have upgraded from what they were given at the police academy.”

“That’s the armor. What about the carriers they use?”

“Carriers don’t provide ballistic protection, Shahab.”

“No, they don’t,” replied Rashid, “but a lot of cops now have trauma plates in addition to their armor.”

Marwan Jarrah waved his hand dismissively as he liked to do when he felt a point was beneath his discussion. “That’s why our men have rifles. It will be like shooting through tissue paper. It won’t be a problem.”

“But suppose it is? Suppose some young cop doesn’t mind the weight of hard plates.”

The older man laughed. “Everyone minds the weight. You know this. You were a soldier. No one wears hard armor unless they expect an attack. This is going to be a surprise; something they will not see coming.”

“Maybe, Marwan. Maybe. In fact, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say nobody expects this attack. But just for fun, let’s also say that the two cops we saw at the Marriott aren’t standing outside when our men arrive, but they show up one minute after.”

Jarrah exhaled. “And?”

“How’d they get there?”

“This is foolish. Let’s talk about something else.”

“It’s not foolish,” insisted Rashid. “Those cops came in a patrol car. Patrol officers are now being issued patrol rifles. So, firepower-wise they are equal to your men. And if they’re smart, which many of them are, especially the younger, more aggressive cops, they are also going to have hard armor. It’ll take them two seconds to get it out of the trunk and throw it on.

“Our men could have plowed through half the lobby, but they won’t get to the other half, much less their next hotel. And what if it’s not patrol officers, but one of the city’s roving tactical teams that arrives?”

The man was silent as he pieced together what his protégé was saying.

“It will take me less than five hours to go and come back.”

“Why Wisconsin?”

“Because Illinois requires a firearms identification card to buy reloading supplies and Wisconsin doesn’t.”

“It seems like a great risk to me this close to the attack.”

Rashid looked at him. “I’m going to break up the purchases at three different locations. I’ll get the reloading machine at one, powder and primers at another, and the rounds and jackets at the third.”

“What about video cameras?”

“I’ll be careful.”

“What if you get stopped?”

“I’m not going to get stopped, Marwan. But even if I do, my driver’s license has my Christian name on it.”

“I want Fadim and Uday to go with you.”

“That’s a great idea. I think we should all wear turbans and Islam is a dynamite religion T-shirts. How about that?”

“I’m in no mood for disrespect,” Marwan snapped.

“Those two get enough looks here in Chicago. If I take them with me to Wisconsin we’re going to raise a lot of eyebrows, or a lot of unibrows in Fadim and Uday’s case.”

“This is why people in our organization are uncomfortable with you.”

Rashid raised his hands, palms up. “Because of my sense of humor?”

“No. It is your belief that you know better than everyone else.”

“I do when everyone else is not using their heads. C’mon, Marwan. The first thing people think of when they see Fadim and Uday is terrorist. You can’t walk them into a store that sells guns and not expect to create a stir. I thought the idea was not to draw attention to ourselves.”

“That is the plan,” replied Jarrah. “I am sending them along for your protection. They will ride in a separate vehicle and keep an eye on you. You will not go armed and I do not want you using your cell phone. Is that understood? You go buy the items you need and you return immediately.”

“You don’t want me using my cell phone now?”

“Sheik Aleem is concerned that the network may have been penetrated.”

“Because of what happened in London?”

“Because of London and Amsterdam.”

“Amsterdam?” said Rashid. “That’s the site of the final European attack?”

The man nodded.

“What happened?”

“There were six bombers. Only one successfully detonated. Sheik Aleem is correct to be concerned that the network may have been compromised.”

“Then all the more reason to put our plans on hold.”

“No,” replied the man. “It is more important than ever that we succeed. That’s why I agree with you about the ammunition and why I am letting you go get the things we need.”