Page 135 of Grave Danger
Grace was in the passenger seat, singing the old punk rock classic under her breath: “Should I stay or should I go?”
“Grace, knock it off.”
Their stint on the sidelines didn’t last long. Andie’s tablet lit up on the dashboard with an invitation to join another videoconference. She accepted with the push of a button. On the screen was ASAC Tidwell, but he wasn’t in the office. He was on the move, inside the FBI’s mobile command center, heading toward Jupiter Island. An FBI hostage negotiator and tech agent were with him in the electronics compartment behind the driver’s cab.
“There’s been a shift in strategy,” said Tidwell.
“I’m at your service,” said Andie.
“Hold on. I need to patch someone in.”
Andie’s screen flickered as another virtual box appeared for a third participant. There was nothing to identify him as an agent for the CIA—except for the fact that Andie recognized him as Agent Hartfield, the CIA agent she had met in Bayfront Park.
“I understand the two of you know each other,” said Tidwell, dispensing with an introduction.
“Yes,” said Andie. “We took a walk in the park and then met another time for coffee. Neither one was pleasant.”
“Pardon my stating the obvious, but the CIA has no law enforcement power,” said Hartfield. “Nonetheless, we do have a keen interest in the man holed up in the cottage with your husband and Zahra Bazzi. His name is Nouri Asmoun. He was the man wearing the body camera in the video you sent us.”
It was a lot for Andie to comprehend, but she quickly understood the ramifications.
“The man holding my husband knows that Ava Bazzi left Evin Prison alive,” she said.
“Yes,” said Hartfield. “And much more.”
“What?”
“The rest I can share with you only on a need-to-know basis.”
Andie immediately understood the implication. “You’ll tell me if I agree to do what you want me to do. Do I have that right?”
“Precisely,” said Hartfield.
“All right,” said Andie. “What’s the ask?”
“Asmoun is expecting a callback in just a few minutes. We want you to make that phone call.”
The ASAC interjected. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Tidwell. “We didn’t discuss that. Putting Agent Henning on the phone breaks the most basic rules of hostage negotiation. Andie has a personal stake here. She can’t be on the phone and create a situation where Nouri could put a gun to her husband’s head and threaten to blow his brains out unless Andie gives him what he wants.”
“Thank you, Todd,” said Andie. “That’s exactly what I would have said, though I probably would have spared myself the image of splattered gray matter.”
“Right, sorry,” said Tidwell. “I was just making a point.”
“Both of you are missingthe point,” said Hartfield. “I’m not suggesting that Agent Henning get on the phone to negotiate. She simply needs to buy time until SWAT can breach.”
Andie knew the lead hostage negotiator in Miami—knew how good he was. “Your first option is a breach?” she asked, incredulous. “That’s insane. There’s a seven-year-old girl in that cottage.”
“I agree,” said the ASAC.
“With all due respect to the FBI,” said Hartfield, “you don’t know a thing about Nouri Asmoun.”
Andie was a step ahead of him, and the CIA’s agenda was crystal clear. “Your priority isn’t to get Yasmin out safely, much less Jack and Zahra.”
“Theorize all you like, but FBI headquarters has already authorized the breach,” said Hartfield—which only confirmed Andie’s belief.
“Your priority is totake outNouri. To silence him—permanently.”
There was silence, then the ASAC spoke. “Who authorized the breach?”