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“At that same meeting, there was a briefing about an American terrorist active in Germany. German authorities believe that an extremist organization has been using an American on a motorcycle to attack Jewish targets in Northern Germany. A leader of a major Jewish community group has been specifically targeted.”
“An American terrorist in Germany,” Titus asked. “Is he acting on ideology?”
“Ideology.” Kennedy let that word drag out. “From what Interpol is turning up, he’s getting a hefty payday. Interpol knows the biker is responding to commands from out of the Middle East, and they’re actively seeking the biker’s arrest. It muddies relationships when an extremist organization can get people from countries with friendly governments to commit crimes. It’s a positive for an adversarial country when they can get criminals from one Western ally to hurt another Western ally, right? If and when arrests are made, and that hits the papers, it creates bad feelings and diplomacy issues amongst friends.”
“What has this American biker done exactly?” Nutsbe asked.
“So far, he’s thrown Molotov cocktails that have only created minor damage but major terror,” Kennedy said.
“And they’re sure it’s this American?” Titus asked.
“They have him on video. They just can’t find him. But various intelligence agencies are picking up his name in a lot of chatter about a missing dissident with dual German citizenship. We know there was a fatwa against that dissident. They believe the American was able to entice the guy out of hiding to attend a dinner. No one knows what happened to him after he left the restaurant with the American biker.”
“Let me just go through this,” Nutsbe said. “As you were listening to this conversation about Olivia and the American biker—”
“Different parts of the conversation,” Kennedy said.
“Okay, but were these two concerns spoken back-to-back?” Nutsbe pressed. “Is it possible that this was a stream-of-consciousness conversation that aligned two disparate things because somewhere in their mind, they drew a connection?”
“I get what you’re saying, Nutsbe.” Kennedy’s gaze rested on the ground as if he were going back in his memory to revisit the meeting. “The intelligence community thinks the dissident was assassinated, not kidnapped. They’re looking for a body. That’s one thing. Another is that we already knew the extremist group was involved in terrorist acts. For example, that same group hired a local thug to go after our US national security advisor when he was visiting Germany. The attacker showed up outside of the security advisor’s hotel suite with an assault rifle. The Secret Service acted, and the man was arrested. From his interviews—and this is where my counterparts were looping me in—it was discovered that this particular extremist organization is increasing its policy of going after low-level dissidents worldwide. The goal is to send a message that any level of opposition is intolerable. And as an example, they mentioned Eastern Virginia had recently seated a grand jury that has something to do with dissident assassinations.”
“And they mentioned Olivia’s name,” Titus said.
“I understand that Stephany Abner and Olivia Gladstone are running a team,” Kennedy affirmed.
“Olivia said her grand jury was classified,” Titus said. “I’d keep this information as need to know.”
“Got you.” Kennedy nodded his agreement.
“I hope Olivia and her team are all taking precautions,” Finley said.
Titus leaned forward to catch Kennedy’s gaze. “Might be nice if the FBI went by and had a little chat with their office, don’t you think?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nutsbe
Kennedy held Titus’s gaze for a long moment, steepled his fingers, and said, “I’m reminding you that we agreed that the Olivia Gladstone information was part of a privileged conversation. If anything is to be shared, it will be at the discretion of the U.S. government, not Iniquus taking the reins.” Kennedy relaxed his hands onto his knees and turned to Nutsbe. “As for you, Nutsbe, we picked up your name on two different police reports today. Not really playing this with a low profile.”
“Any thoughts about whether today’s events could be tied to the Russo-Albanian-FBI case?” Nutsbe asked.
“It occurred to us.” Finley pointed toward the board. “Could I take a picture of your notes?”
“They’re speculatory in blue and known in red,” Titus said. “You can have them as part of your deal with Covington. Share and share alike.”
“Agreed.” Finley stood and walked toward the whiteboard.
“While you look at that,” Nutsbe said, “let me ask you this: Any chance the FBI wants to keep me quiet? Do you know of anyone who might be taking potshots at me as I leave the courthouse where my name is listed and of public record?”
“I’m not saying it’s impossible.” Finley held his phone up, methodically taking pictures of sections of the whiteboard.
“It’s not a Russian M.O.,” Kennedy pointed out.
“But just like the extremist organization story with the American on his motorcycle any of the possible players could have hired out,” Finley turned and walked back to the table to sit next to Kennedy. “You remember the case Panther Force worked on with the militia group in West Virginia where some of the members got caught up in the Russian scheme to get computer gamers to take patriotic actions, that is, step in and do their dirty work for them.”
“We remember,” Titus said.
“Russia, Albania, or McMahan any of them could have made the hire,” Kennedy said. “All of them would have the right connections to make that happen.”
