The Enemy Within

“Or they might be getting help from someone you don’t have on file yet,” Thorn suggested quietly. “Somebody with a good working knowledge of demolitions and security procedures.”

“You have a candidate in mind, Colonel?” Koenig asked, narrowing his eyes. “Does DOD have some psycho exRanger or Green Beret on the loose that we should know about? Is that why you’re here?”

Thorn shook his head and then stopped. He hadn’t seriously considered that possibility before. Much as he disliked the prospect, he had to admit that the FBI agent’s suggestion might have merit. The Army’s special forces put a great deal of effort into screening out the bad apples, but no psych profile ever developed could guarantee one hundred percent perfection.

“We might also be looking at an overseas link between extreme rightist groups,” Helen broke in. “Don’t forget those references to a German neo-Nazi we picked up from Burke and the rest during the synagogue siege. We know that Sword was getting sophisticated military supplies from old East German arsenals. Maybe this mysterious ‘Karl’ and his friends have started supplying military expertise as well.”

“Could be,” Koenig agreed slowly. Ties between the National Press Club bomber and a foreign terrorist group would complicate the whole investigation. Because the attack took place on U.S. soil, the FBI would still have primary jurisdiction, but the State Department, CIA, and Pentagon would have a much louder voice if there were a connection to radicals overseas.

Another agent joined the small circle, a taller, older man with slate-grey eyebrows and a harassed expression. The badge clipped to his protective suit read “Flynn.”

“What’s up, Tommy?”

Koenig swiveled toward his boss. “Just batting around a few theories, Mike. About whether or not the bastards who blew the hell out of this place were ex-military or might have had help from foreign terrorists.” He nodded toward Thorn. “This is Colonel Peter Thorn. He’s with the JSOC.”

“I see.” Flynn turned his gaze on Thorn, clearly taking in his lean, well-muscled form. “You’re with Delta Force, Colonel?”

Thorn nodded. “Until recently. I run a special intelligence outfit out of the Pentagon now.”

“I see.” Flynn’s gaze sharpened. “You’re not on my off~-cial observers’ list, Colonel.”

Thorn noticed Koenig and the other FBI agents stiffen. Hell. He nodded again, speaking before Helen could intervene on his behalf. If Flynn was going to be a hard-ass about this, there wasn’t any point in dragging her name and record through the procedural mud. “That’s right. I came down on my own hook.”

“I’ve already got more than four hundred agents and other personnel working this case, Colonel. Is there something we’re not doing to your satisfaction?” Flynn’s voice was dangerously quiet.

“No, sir.” Thorn stood his ground. With all the pressure the FBI agent was under from above, he couldn’t blame the older man for bristling at yet another outsider tramping through the crime scene. If their roles were reversed, he would probably feel much the same way. “But I’ve spent close to ten years studying terrorist tactics. I thought you might find that useful on an unofficial basis.”

“I see.” Flynn gritted his teeth. “Look, Colonel Thorn, besides the experts going over this building with a fine-tooth comb, I have agents out interviewing every survivor some under hypnosis. There are others checking the records of every parking garage and taxi company in the metropolitan area. I even have teams reviewing every inch of footage shot by the Metro security cameras for every station within walking distance just on the off chance we might spot something. So I’m going to ask you again. Is there some solid angle you think we’re missing?”

Reluctantly, Thorn shook his head. “No, sir. Not at the moment.”

“Fine. Then please go back to the Pentagon and let us get on with the job. There are already investigators from every damned agency and police force known to mankind crawling through this mess, and I sure as hell do not need the U.S. Army’s Delta Force adding its own two cents.” Flynn raised his voice, addressing his next comments to the poker-faced agents in earshot. “This is real life, not a movie, and this task force is not going to go running off at half cock to hunt for some supervillain. That’s not the way I work, and that’s not the way to produce results. Instead, we’re going to work systematically through the facts as they exist. I want hard evidence, not fancy theories. Is that clear?”

The senior FBI agent waited briefly to make sure the others had heard him before turning his attention back to Thorn. He lowered his voice again. “Wait until we’ve found these bastards, Colonel. Then you or Agent Gray here are perfectly welcome to shoot them.”

Great, Thorn thought, I didn’t fool him at all. He knows exactly who brought me inside.

Flynn looked at Koenig. “Have somebody escort the colonel through the security barrier, Tommy. I’m sure he has work of his own to do.”