NINE
‘There are certain names tagged in the file for my team’s operation,’ Crawford continued, as Cobb listened closely. The information Crawford had just given him had immediately grabbed his attention. ‘A red flag comes up whenever one of the names is searched in any databases we share with other agencies. That includes the CIA, NSA, FBI and foreign organisations we have close ties with. One of those groups is MI6, and this morning, Dominick Farha’s name came up. Straight away, I contacted Chief of Staff Rogers at 10 Downing Street. He informed me of the operation underway, of these nine suspects, all potential suicide bombers, and all led by Dominick Farha.’
He looked at the coffee cup in his hand, preparing his approach.
‘Simply put, I want to help, Director. During my team’s operation, I have managed to accrue extensive knowledge of Farha and his family. I think I could be of great assistance to you and your detail.’
Cobb nodded, but stayed silent. He liked the suggestion, but he knew there was also an ulterior motive here.
Crawford hadn’t come all this way just to help him out.
‘But let me guess. If Farha somehow gets in contact with Henry in Paris, you want us to hold back until your operation is over,’ Cobb replied, putting two and two together. ‘If we move in, your cartel boss will realise he’s compromised and will disappear. And you don’t get him at the drug buy.’
Crawford nodded slowly.
‘Correct.’
Cobb went to speak further but paused. He noticed the American’s expression had changed. He seemed troubled. Cobb had sensed something wasn’t right ever since Crawford had walked in, but he had known better than to ask.
After a brief silence, the blond DEA agent spoke again.
‘One of my men went missing last night,’ he said. ‘I’d left him running surveillance from outside Henry’s compound in Riyadh while four of us flew to Paris to get a head start on the scheduled drug buy. I tried contacting him from the plane and again when we touched down at De Gaulle, but there was no response.’
He paused.
‘Before the operation, each member of my team had been chipped back in the US. It’s a transponder, tiny, small enough to fit in a syringe. It means if one of our operatives goes dark or gets in trouble, we can always track them down.’
He licked his lips.
‘We located him by satellite an hour ago.’
‘Where?’
‘At the bottom of the Red Sea.’
There was a long silence.
‘A diving crew are out there right now trying to retrieve him,’ continued Crawford. ‘Henry’s favourite method of killing someone is to knock them out and put their feet in quick drying cement. Then they get thrown overboard to drown. And that’s exactly what happened to my agent.’
A pause. Crawford shook his head.
‘His name was Faber. A good man, real solid. Two daughters and a wife back home. We’d been working together for over a year.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Cobb quietly.
Crawford nodded, his tanned face hardening.
‘Needless to say, I’ve had enough of this shit. It’s time to take Henry and his organisation down. It’s clear that our two cases are intertwined, so I wanted to come here in person and offer the DEA’s services myself. I promise my agency will assist you wherever we can, Director Cobb.’
He paused as something else came into his mind.
‘By the way, has anyone discussed a motive with you yet?’
‘For the planned attacks?’
Crawford nodded. Cobb considered the question, then shook his head.
‘No. I figured it was just fanaticism.’
Crawford shook his head.
‘A year ago to the day, Dominick was actually high up in Henry’s organisation,’ he said. ‘Their relationship wasn’t always this fractured. Farha, as a trusted family member, had been sent to New York on a business run that we were tracking. He’d set up a meeting with a brother cartel based in Queens, providing them with samples of fresh, top-grade cocaine from Juarez. It was New Year’s Eve and Dominick had been drinking in a bar all day. The meeting was scheduled for a room inside the Four Seasons hotel. It must have turned sour.’
‘How so?’
‘Dominick ended up killing the two guys and making off with the samples and cash they’d brought. All in all, about two hundred and fifty grand.’
Cobb didn’t reply.
‘Now this put him in some seriously deep shit. One of the guys he whacked was a lieutenant within the other organisation and those are men that you do not want to mess with. Once details of what had happened spread, the New York crew put the word out. Seven figures on Farha’s head, dead or alive; and our wiretaps revealed Henry was even angrier with him than the other cartel was. His little stunt had permanently ended relations with the New York organisation, and consequently took away a huge source of business. Dominick fled to the UK the next morning, a year ago tomorrow, and he hasn’t contacted his uncle since.’
‘But where’s the motive for planning these attacks?’ Cobb asked.
‘Henry harbours a deep hatred for the United Kingdom. His parents were killed during the Gulf War when a British missile hit their home.’
Suddenly, it all fell into place in Cobb’s mind.
He leaned back in his chair and nodded.
‘Dominick thinks these attacks will make up for what happened in New York and please his uncle enough to let him back into his organisation. And keep him alive and protected.’
Crawford nodded. ‘And his screw-up at the Four Seasons will stay there.’
Cobb frowned. ‘Pretty extreme for a family argument.’
‘Oh, to reasonable men like you and me, absolutely. But remember the kind of people we are dealing with here, Director. Right now, there are cartel hit-men scouring the world searching for Dominick and they have a long reach. With the protection of his uncle and his men, Dominick could survive. Without it, it’s only a matter of time before someone finds him. And he’d be better off killing himself than if the New York gang ever took him alive. They’d make his death last weeks.’
With that, Crawford fell silent; he’d finished his report and showed his hand. The rest was up to Cobb.
The Englishman thought hard, assessing the situation, the scenario and his options.
Finally, he nodded. ‘OK, I’m in. Let’s do it.’
Crawford grinned.
‘Fantastic. Let’s take them all down, Director. Every single one of these assholes.’
The two men rose. Cobb walked around his desk and shook hands with the American, sealing the deal.
‘There’s one more thing,’ added Crawford. ‘One of my men is on his way here from Paris. He’s a field agent, a good man. Used to be SEAL Team Six. I figured he could assist your ground team.’
He shrugged.
‘It’s either that, or he sits here with us. I couldn’t leave him in Paris. He’s a field agent, not surveillance.’
Cobb considered the proposition, then nodded.
‘OK. He can attach to my task force as an observer. Tell him to come in whenever he lands. You can bring him up to speed.’
As Crawford nodded, Nikki approached the office and knocked on the transparent glass door to the office. Cobb beckoned her in.
‘Sir?’ she said, sticking her head through the gap in the doorway.
‘Yes?’
‘Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you should know. The two suspects have arrived. Frost is down there with them now. They’re starting the interrogation.’