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“I posed as a bomb expert, which I am, and an IRA bomber I worked with, Ian McGuire, introduced me to Spenser and I joined his group, COE. My mission was to steal the specs once Matthew perfected the bomb. He showed it to me, told me how it would be undetectable, and so small, you can’t believe how small they are. Gold coins, the size of a fifty-cent piece.
“But Matthew was very secretive, very careful, with everyone. He only told each person in the group what they needed to know to pull off the next bombing.”
“Undetectable bombs,” Mike repeated quietly. “I can’t imagine how that’s even possible.”
“I know they’re made of gold and tungsten, with carbon-fiber hulls, which wouldn’t ever set off the scanners. You could walk onto a plane with one in your pocket, leave it in the magazine pocket, and walk away, and bring the whole thing down, or you could leave it in a coffee shop, or a police station or a stadium. But they were theoretical only, until now. There are, of course, other components I couldn’t find out about. And then he perfected it.”
Savich leaned forward. “Bayway was a test?”
“Yes. I’d built a bomb as well, and that was the second blast, designed to destroy, not kill.” Her breathing hitched. “I didn’t know, didn’t know. How many workers were killed?”
Mike said, “Fifteen people, and the blast destroyed the refinery. I’d say Spenser’s bomb is ready for market.”
Savich asked, “How did Matthew Spenser find out you were an undercover agent?”
Vanessa whispered, “When we got back to the apartment in Brooklyn, I knew I had to tell Uncle Carl immediately what was happening. I was in the bathroom, sending him a text, and Matthew came in to bully me. When Uncle Carl’s message came back, he heard the ding on my phone. I tried to talk my way out of it—the message was ambiguous—but it didn’t work. Ian tried to protect me, and Matthew killed him, then he killed me, or he thought he had. Then he set the apartment on fire with Andy’s special gasoline mixes. I managed to get out but fell off the fire escape. And that’s all I remember until I woke up here.”
She lay pale and silent now, staring up at Savich. She licked her dry lips, drank a bit more water. Finally, she whispered, “When he looked at me, I knew it was the end. His eyes were dead. I guess it was the only way he could deal with the ultimate betrayal, both Ian and me.”
Vanessa couldn’t get spit in her mouth. She nodded again toward the water carafe. Why did her mouth feel like a desert?
Grace immediately placed the straw against her lips.
He looked down at Vanessa, his niece, his brother’s only child, then up at the agents. “We need to stop here for a moment. Nessa, while you were in surgery, we realized Darius is actually Zahir Damari, the assassin hired to kill the vice president.”
Savich nodded to Mike. “She figured this out already. My question is why you people at the CIA didn’t think this information was important enough to pass it along to us?”
Grace shot a look of approval to Mike, splayed his hands in front of him, “Please understand, everything has been moving so fast, we only just made the connection ourselves, plus I wanted to tell you in person. We knew about Zahir Damari, but we had no idea he was the same man as this Darius who joined up with COE. This wasn’t a matter for phones, you see.”
For a moment Vanessa couldn’t get a breath, couldn’t think her way through it, then said, “Darius, he’s really Zahir Damari? I knew Darius wasn’t his real name, but I didn’t expect this.”
Nicholas said, “How did he hook up with Spenser and your group?”
“He showed up at our camp in South Tahoe, a million in cash, and he told us his name was Darius Coles, and he went to Oxford, which was one of the reasons Matthew talked to him in the first place. Matthew went to Oxford, too. But the way he hooked Matthew was that he claimed he’d lost friends in the July 2005 London terrorist bombing. He appeared to be genuinely surprised to learn that Matthew had lost his family. All a ploy, of course.”
Grace said, “Based on Vanessa’s information, we ran Darius Coles through every known database, and a few off-book ones. It was a false identity.”
Mike said slowly, “Now all the pins are lined up. Zahir came to COE, to Spenser, because, like you, he wanted the bomb for his clients.”
“The clients would be Iran and Hezbollah,” Carl Grace said. “This chatter about the amazing new bomb the CIA heard about has been heard elsewhere, obviously. But now we believe Zahir’s mission was two-pronged: to get Spenser’s bomb and kill the vice president.”
Nicholas said, “May I have a crack at the photo and the identity? Savich and I have designed a new update for the NGA database utilizing a different method for identifying underlying bone structure. Perhaps we’ll be able to find something that will allow us to identify him.”
Grace nodded. “We were hoping you could help. I’ll have it for you when we’re done here.”
Vanessa said, “But how can that be right? Zahir was hired to assassinate the vice president? Because she’s so against the peace talks? Why would Iran and Hezbollah care? I mean, the president is in charge, he’s the one who insisted on the peace talks, he’s the one who believes if he can make them happy, they won’t continue to threaten Israel and the West.”
Savich looked at her pale face, her eyes losing focus, and knew she couldn’t hang on for much longer. “All sound points, Agent Grace, but think about who these people are, what they are. Now, one more question and then we’ll leave you in peace. Where is Matthew Spenser now? And Andy Tate? And the rest of the members of the COE?”
“With Ian dead, I think all the other COE members have already run for cover. None of them is stupid, most are online, anyway. So that would leave only Matthew and Andy.”
Savich continued, “If Spenser hadn’t shot you, what would you be doing today?”
“Working with Andy to comb through the data they stole from the cyber-attack on the oil companies—verify the schedules for Yorktown, the president’s, the vice president’s, find out all the visiting oil company representatives coming, itineraries, hotels, eve
rything. But most important was getting the Yorktown plant blueprints.”
Mike had nailed it.
