Without violating HIPAA, Lyla had given the names of Dr. Castillo’s most high-risk patients to Dr. Loughridge. Over the next couple of days she would go to their homes with her nurse and do a full workup—take blood, order labs or tests as necessary, do what Castillo lied about doing in the first place. Then Dr. Loughridge would make sure each patient had a follow-up appointment with a reputable doctor so they could receive continued care.
It was the best Lyla could offer these veterans who’d given so much, and she was grateful for her network of doctors and philanthropic family friends who agreed with her offering financial support and services.
Lyla looked at the list on her lap and put a check mark next to Mr. Cooper’s name. She ran a finger over Claude Miller’s name. She missed him and his stories about Porridge. Missed Gretchen.
The memory of her confrontation with Dr. Castillo still caused her pulse to thrum with adrenaline.
How many more wolves in sheep’s clothing remained?
However many there were, Lyla would continue to do her job and unmask them. It didn’t matter what Nicolás thought—she’d make the same choices again.
4
“This wouldn’t have just killed Stanburg.” Nic looked up from the photos he’d spent several long minutes inspecting. He’d been sitting in the FBI’s office in Judiciary Square for the last couple of hours consulting on an IED discovered beneath the car of Deputy Assistant Secretary of State Mark Stanburg in Damascus a week ago. “The amount of pentaerythritol tetranitrate would’ve scattered pieces of his body more than twelve hundred feet.”
The words were rancid on his tongue as ugly images from his past assaulted his brain.
Across from him, FBI Special Agent Kelly Sims shifted in her seat. “Not a pretty image.”
“And one we narrowly avoided had it not been for the uneven ground that tripped Stanburg’s assistant,” Special Agent Jason Reynolds added. “It’s a good thing Jered Hollins worked with cars before entering politics.”
Nic stared at the photo of the catalytic converter attached to the vehicle’s exhaust. A layperson wouldn’t have noticed it wasn’t in the correct location, but when Jered tripped, he fell near the back of the car and spotted the anomaly immediately. The bomb had been molded and disguised to look like a catalytic converter, and the organic type of explosive material explained why the detection dogs had missed it.
“Does it look familiar?” Agent Sims flipped her blonde braid over her shoulder. “Is it Al-Qaeda?”
Nic’s palms grew clammy.Personal experience. That’s why DeAntona told Walsh he wanted Nic to join them in Syria. He stared at the components of the explosive device, recognizing the similarities...except this one was all in one piece. Unlike the pieces of metal, warped and shredded, and the frayed and charred remains of wire stained with the blood of his friend.
Swallowing, Nic set his jaw and focused. “Al-Qaeda in that region typically uses military-grade explosives, like RDX. The PETN in this device isn’t commonly used, nor is the method by which it was created.”
Agent Reynolds picked up the photo. “You mean creating the IED to look like a piece of the car.”
“Yes.” Nic leaned forward and pulled a few photos out of the stack and placed them side by side. They were older images that had been taken when he served in the 28th EOD Company during his three deployments to Afghanistan. “Al-Qaeda’s main objective has always been to inflict the most amount of damage or casualties, and...” He swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “In my experience, their improved methods include ambushes, setting up ‘kill zones’ with strategically placed IEDs, or double IED traps where they lure attention with a smaller explosion, only to have a larger, deadlier device set to go off when the EOD unit arrives.”
Agent Sims studied the photos. “So something like this vehicle-borne IED would be too advanced for Al-Qaeda?”
“It’s possible Al-Qaeda’s methods have changed or advanced with technology, but they typically stick with what they know works.”
“Do you think this VBIED attached to Stanburg’s car was an attack meant to kill him or a lure for something else?”
Nic pressed his palms to his thighs. “Thanks to Hollins, you’ll never know.” He saw Agent Sims narrow her blue eyes on him just like Lyla did when she thought he was being too callous in his honesty. He couldn’t help it. There was no room in explosives for emotions. It was precise or it was deadly. “I don’t mean that in aharsh way. Itreallyis a good thing Hollins discovered the bomb. Countless lives were saved. I’m just pointing out that whatever the plan was for the bomb will remain a mystery.”
And for that, Nic found a tiny piece of relief. Mark Stanburg’s family would be spared the pain of the alternative.
“Okay.” Agent Reynolds leaned forward in his chair, studying Nic for a minute. “You’re the expert here. If you don’t see this as Al-Qaeda’s handiwork, who else should we be looking at?”
Nic didn’t know what Agents Reynolds or Sims had been told about hisexpertise, but at least he now knew why DeAntona wanted him on the team. He was getting a second chance. A chance to do what he should’ve done years ago. It wouldn’t change the outcome, but it might bring some resolution to his conflicted soul.
“Based on this bomb...” Nic studied the photo again. His eyes traced the wiring, the electronic signal connected to the explosive, and he pondered the effort taken to make it inconspicuous. He met the waiting faces of the special agents. “I think it’s reasonable to look outside Al-Qaeda.” They waited for more, and he took a breath. “Last time I was in Afghanistan, we encountered several explosives with this kind of detail coming from a group out of Mogadishu. I’d start there.”
Agent Sims pushed back from the table. “Thank you, Nic.” Her eyes lingered on him. “I can see why General DeAntona recommended you.”
Nic picked up his ball cap from the table and placed it on his head before standing. “No problem.”
“How much action do you get?” Agent Reynolds asked, gathering the photos.
“Uh...” Nic slid an awkward glance to Agent Sims, who bit her lip and smiled. “Action?”
“Yeah.” Agent Reynolds looked up. “I admit I don’t know much about the SNAP Agency, but I can’t imagine an EOD officer as skilled as yourself sees much action. Or is there some kind ofexplosives ring you guys bust on the regular that the FBI doesn’t know about?”
