19

Brooklyn, New York

Eva stood behind Navid.

She was still not yet ready for him to see her face. That would come in due time. He was hooked up to all kinds of physiological sensors that were streaming data to the analysts in the next room. They sent her periodic updates through her earpiece, keeping her in control and him guessing.

“We recovered your cell phone, Navid. Prepaid. Disposable. Untraceable. Smart choice. Very smart. Except that you made a little mistake, Navid—just one. But then again, it only takes one.”

“His blood pressure just spiked again,” Agent Taylor said in her ear.

She nodded and kept going. “Now, Navid, I know you want to be a martyr,” she said calmly. “Like your brother. I’m sure you’re very proud of him. I’m sure that you’ve always looked up to him. But he died in action. I oppose everything he stood for and everything he did, obviously. He gave his life for something he believed in. I’ll give him that. You, on the other hand—I’m curious about you. The FBI caught you sitting in a car doing nothing. I mean, presumably you were waiting for the others. You were supposed to drive the getaway car. But you were just sitting there. You didn’t put up a fight. You didn’t try to escape. Of course, you were surrounded by two dozen guys with automatic weapons. But hey, you could have gone down in a hail of gunfire like your brother, shouting, ‘Allahu Akbar!’ I guess I’m just curious why you didn’t.”

She paused a moment, then changed course. “That’s all right. Don’t answer that. We’ll get back to why you gave up so easily in a little while. Let’s focus on your execution.”

“His blood pressure is off the charts now,” Taylor said.

“I’m figuring at this point that you want to go to the electric chair. Heck, you’re probably looking forward to it, which is good, because you will. Believe me, you will die. This is an easy case. You were part of a terrorist team that killed dozens of people, including the president of Egypt. I doubt there will even be an appeal. I give you two weeks, maybe three, before they execute you.”

She was lying, of course. She couldn’t remember the last time the feds had executed anyone with the electric chair. What’s more, she figured they’d be lucky if they could give Navid Yazidi any type of death sentence in less than a decade. More than likely, they would cut him some ridiculous deal in exchange for information. But his reactions were proof he didn’t know any of that. She thought the fact that he was so nervous strongly suggested he’d never seriously considered the prospect of being caught. She guessed he had figured he would likely be killed in action or—more likely, in his mind—somehow slip through the American dragnet and escape capture or punishment entirely because he was a servant of Allah and Allah took care of his own.

Uncertainty clearly unnerved him. So did the prospect of death. That was good. Those were his Achilles’ heels. She needed to exploit them.

“I’m afraid I won’t be there, though, Navid. There’s a lot I can handle, but watching a man be electrocuted to death is not one of them. But you’ll be fine. You want to be a martyr like Rahim, right? You’ll probably be grinning ear to ear when they strap you into the chair.” She stopped talking, and all was quiet, save the hum of the fluorescent lights. She waited awhile for everything to sink in, then continued.

“You got caught, Navid. You didn’t resist. You didn’t try to escape. Maybe you weren’t really so committed to this mission, like Rahim was. And you were drinking alcohol—lots of it—the night before the attack. That’s right, Navid. At one point you called your hotel with your disposable phone. That was your mistake; we found the number, went to the hotel, and saw your room. I was there myself. And I personally saw the hotel security tapes. I know you checked into that Sheraton. I saw you get into the elevator and push the button for the ninth floor. I saw you key into room 919. I went to room 919, Navid; I saw that you ate everything in the minibar. And you drank everything in the minibar. Had they ever let you be in a room by yourself with a minibar? I’m guessing not. Because you really went to town. Which is fine. Don’t get me wrong. I mean, you all paid your bills with cash. I’m just thinking Allah might not be too pleased. And I’m guessing he was watching. And I guess if I were sitting in the electric chair soon, waiting to pass from one world to the next, I’d be wondering where I was going. Because it’s one thing to be executed in one of the most painful ways imaginable—did I mention your whole head is going to explode into flames?—but that might be nothing compared to what’s coming the moment you leave this world and enter the next.”

Again she paused for effect. She shook her head so Taylor would keep his mouth shut. She didn’t need an update. She knew exactly what she was doing. She unbuttoned her blouse an extra button and smoothed out the wrinkles of the skirt she was wearing, then stepped around the chair and met the nervous gaze of Navid Yazidi with a gentle smile as she put her blonde hair in a ponytail.

“I want to be your friend, Navid,” she said softly. “There are people in this building who want to put you in that chair, but I just want you to know that I’m not one of them. I want to help you. But first you have to help me. I don’t want anyone else to die. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, especially you. But they’re only going to give me a few more minutes with you, Navid. And if you don’t help me, then I can’t help you. And then those men who beat you are going to come back in here and do what they do best. So tell me what you know about Firouz. Tell me what you know about his driver, Jamshad. That’s right. We know the names of your accomplices—that’s another mistake you made. You left them both voice messages in their hotel rooms, and you used their real names.”

* * *

Oakton, Virginia

Najjar stared out his bedroom windows.

He watched some nameless couple and their two children who lived in the house just behind the safe house packing up their minivan with suitcases and beach blankets and all kinds of toys, headed off on a vacation of some kind. The image made him miss his own family all the more. He wanted to play with his daughter. What he wouldn’t give to get away with them on a vacation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a break and gotten away from all the cares of life. His father-in-law had worked him like a slave, and he was constantly exhausted.

He turned away and flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t talk to his family or hold them, much less go on holiday with them. So he began to pray for them. He prayed they wouldn’t worry too much about him or about their future. He prayed the baby was being peaceful for Sheyda, that she and her mother could laugh together and not be too lonely without him. Eventually he drifted off to sleep with their faces crossing his mind’s eye and a prayer on his lips.

And as he slept, he had a dream.

“Najjar, do not be afraid,” a voice said. “I, Jesus, have sent My angel to testify to you about these things. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star. Behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to render to every man according to what he has done. Yes, I am coming quickly. You must speak to the sons of your people. Say to them, ‘If I bring a sword upon a land, and the people of the land take one man from among them and make him their watchman, and he sees the sword coming upon the land and blows on the trumpet and warns the people, then he who hears the sound of the trumpet and does not take warning, and a sword comes and takes him away, his blood will be on his own head. He heard the sound of the trumpet but did not take warning; his blood will be on himself. But had he taken warning, he would have delivered his life. But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet and the people are not warned, and a sword comes and takes a person from them, he is taken away in his iniquity; but his blood I will require from the watchman’s hand.’”

Still dreaming, Najjar was careful to remember the words, just as they had been spoken. He somehow knew this was more than just a dream and that he would remember these words even after he awoke. He also realized he knew the sword was coming soon, and his heart quickened at what he sensed was coming next.

“Now as for you, Najjar, I have appointed you a watchman for the nation of Persia. When you hear a word from My mouth warn them from Me. When I say to the wicked, ‘You will surely die,’ and you do not warn him or speak out to warn the wicked from his wicked way that he may live, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand. Yet if you have warned the wicked and he does not turn from his wickedness or from his wicked way, he shall die in his iniquity; but you have delivered yourself.”