Page 97 of Fatal Mistake
“You’re sure of this?”
“Sure enough that I want everyone to move. Get the command vehicle to a safe position and the people in harm’s way out of here. I’ll shed this suit so I can move more freely and go in search of another device. You get Frankie suited up to deal with any bomb we locate.”
Cal stripped out of the suit. Sure, he’d be safer wearing it, but eighty-plus pounds of Kevlar would slow him down on his search, and he wouldn’t risk others’ lives to save his.
Udall barked orders at his men. They instantly mobilized and started evacuating. Cal needed a better look at the area than he could get driving his SUV, so he left it parked and headed toward the outer perimeter. He kept his head on a swivel looking for anything out of the ordinary, but he reached the barricades without locating anything suspicious.
His mind racing, he let his gaze run over the crowd.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he whispered. “Figure it out, man.”
Just then, his gaze caught on a slight male with a ball cap pulled low over his eyes. He stood in the middle of the crowd. Nothing about him drew Cal’s attention other than the way he kept looking up and furtively glancing away, like Sarra Yasin in Oregon. They had Sarra in custody, but could this puny guy standing before Cal be a woman? Perhaps Nabijah Meer, the woman Oren mentioned in the journals?
The next time the guy’s head popped up, Cal took a better look.
Yeah, he could be a she, and her bone structure matched the picture of Meer.
Cal turned away before he scared her. He crossed the road and resisted the urge to look back at the woman as he stepped into the parking lot of an apartment complex. If she had a remote for a bomb, it wouldn’t do to startle her. He had to play it cool and act like he was looking for something totally unrelated to her, then double back behind her and take her into custody.
Once out of sight, he radioed Udall and shared his plan. “I need you to get eyes on the woman and keep me updated on her movements.”
“I’ll radio my men.”
“No,” Cal said. “I can’t take any chances that one of your patrol guys will spook her. Make your way over there yourself, but keep it on the down low.” Cal described the woman and her exact location.
“Roger that,” Udall said.
Cal hurried through the complex and onto the street a block behind the location where he’d last spotted her.
“Got her in sight.” Udall’s voice came over the radio. “She’s holding steady.”
“Good. I’m about to cross over to the crowd.”
Cal employed every stalking skill he’d learned as a SEAL to slip in and out of onlookers until he stood directly behind the woman. She lifted a feminine hand to the back of a slender neck, confirming she was female.
It didn’t mean that she was Meer, and he’d cause the Bureau a world of hurt if he was wrong, but he couldn’t take a chance that she had a remote in her pocket. Inches behind her, he shot out his hands, sliding them under her arms and jerking up high to keep her hands away from her pockets.
She screamed, and fought him with surprising strength, but she was no match for him.
“Special Agent Cal Riggins, FBI,” Cal shouted, making sure his voice carried through the crowd to Udall, who leapt the barricade and joined Cal.
“Check her pockets,” Cal instructed.
Udall frisked her and came up with a gun and cell phone.
“Let’s get that phone into a Faraday bag.” Made of specially coated metallic shielding, Faraday bags were a much smaller version of the tent used in the house and prevented connectivity to cellular networks, Wi-Fi, and Bluetooth. If the cell was programmed to trigger a device, once in the bag, it would be worthless.
Udall passed the phone to a deputy. She hurried toward the truck as Udall cuffed the woman.
Cal removed her cap. Her face matched the photo to a T, and he couldn’t contain his victory smile. “Nabijah Meer. So nice of you to join us.”
She gaped at him for a moment, her shock further confirmation of her identity. She started spewing obscenities at Cal, but he ignored her and escorted her through the crowd to the nearest cruiser.
“She could do with a more thorough search,” Udall told a female deputy who stood nearby.
She patted Meer down. “No ID.”
“Not a problem,” Cal said. “I know all about Nabijah. She’s the coward too afraid to show herself, letting bombs do the dirty work for her.”
