Page 31 of High Treason
“I’ll look into the cartels and put out feelers for hired assassins. See what surfaces.”
“Appreciate it. I’m with the prince and Consul General Nasser al-Fakeeh. Prince Omar has requested the consul general release a statement to the media about an arrest made.”
“Snuff that out. This is our jurisdiction,” SAC Thomas said. “The prince knows more than he claims.”
“He’ll share details when he’s ready to.”
“You’re blind when it comes to him. Don’t let it get you or others killed.”
Kord gripped the phone. “Yes, sir.” Prince Omar had placed his life in danger and those around him, and Kord was well aware of the precarious situation.
The call ended and he rejoined the prince. “Amir, may I have a word with you in private?”
The consul general and Malik stepped into the hallway. Kord relayed the conversation from Nasim but didn’t give his informant’s name.
“Can you trust him?” Prince Omar said.
“He’s not failed me in the past.”
“I’ll have Malik send the information home. Tell them to search until they have suspects to question.”
“You won’t release news of an arrest?” Kord said.
“Consul General al-Fakeeh agrees with you, so I’ll postpone the report.”
Kord doubted any of the crimes would haveclosedstamped on them today or tomorrow. The players had strategized their plot to ensure success. Those who’d committed their lives to keeping the prince and his family safe were seemingly handcuffed with no idea of the next plan of attack. “I’m waiting on security camera footage from yesterday. Once I’m able to—”
“What’s the delay?”
Kord grimaced. “I know a judge signed the search warrant. I’ll check again.” He texted SAC Thomas. A response buzzed his phone—within the hour.
“Are we ready for the drive to MD Anderson?” Prince Omar said. “The consul general will follow us in his car to the medical center.”
Kord had no idea the man planned to visit Prince Omar’s mother. What else had transpired in his absence?
IN THE PRIVACY OF HER BEDROOM,Monica used her laptop to study security footage from the cameras located near Frozen Rock. Unfortunately nothing showed evidence of anyone involved at the crime scene. Kord had been the first to rush forward when Zain stumbled and fell. The camera caught the anguish on Kord’s face and the way his reflexes swung into action. She paused the video and peered intently into her partner’s face. A scowl etched his features. The anger that motivated him to find the killer was equal to his responsibility as an agent. A double hit for whoever was behind the attack. She had her own reasons to ensure no more victims, and hers were about redeeming her past mistakes.
She moved on to what needed to be probed—every angle of activity inside and outside Paramount High School. Although Kord and other investigators were reviewing the same footage, each had a different perspective. Teachers, students, and construction workers had been interviewed, but none had anything more to reportthan what they already knew. All the remarks and opinions would be tossed into a pot of ideas until something substantial surfaced.
Theoretically it all sounded good.
Techs would take hours to scrutinize each moment, but she could scan through it now for her own take. The time stamp on the school footage in the parking lot began two hours before the crime. She zoomed in on every face—a professional hit man had his plan memorized, reviewed it mentally, and put it into action. High probability the shooter worked alone on the rooftop to carry out the assassination. But he could belong to a terrorist group, and pulling the trigger was his role.
She paused the video overview and closed her eyes, putting herself into the mind of the killer. ... He’d parked a vehicle that had easy access to the side street of the school. Exited, grabbed a toolbox, panned the area for police officers, and walked toward an entrance. On the way, he asked the teen for directions to the janitors’ office. Made his way there. Met Chip inside. Lured him to the back room, probably by force. Took his shirt and keys. Murdered him. Unlocked the door leading to the rooftop. There he assembled the sniper rifle and pulled the trigger on Zain, thinking he was the prince. Monica calculated twenty to twenty-five minutes if the killer knew the precise time the prince’s entourage planned to stop for ice cream. Impossible to follow the limos and position himself before Zain walked toward the shop.
Her phone alerted her to a text.
Ready 4 MD Anderson?
Monica had lost track of time. She closed her laptop and locked it in a metal case. Shoving the device into a closet, she grabbed her weapon and tucked it into her back waistband. After slinging her jacket over her shoulder, she ensured her earbud was in the pocket and hurried down the stairway.
Outside, three bodyguards stood beside Prince Omar’s limo. Monica wanted to question them, examine their answers, but the prince and bodyguards might not value her conversation unless they initiated it. Consul General al-Fakeeh waited with them, and he offered her a nod. Points for his side.
She rode in the rear of Prince Omar’s second vehicle with Wasi and Saad, leaving Fares and Karim to protect the Saud home. The Lexus behind them transported the consul general. He’d requested to see Prince Omar’s mother, and once he visited her, he’d leave for his office with Prince Omar.
Later she’d tell Kord the consul general had been most respectful, obviously well-versed in Western ways. He could be a liaison in working through the protection detail.
In the eighteen-minute drive to the hospital, she studied the vehicles around her, memorizing license plates out of habit. The vehicles reached the medical center, renowned for its advances in technology to promote healing. Perhaps the professionals here could help Prince Omar’s mother.
