Part 7 (1/2)
Layla frowned. ”After, sir.”
”He's lying,” Jack declared. ”The FBI's investigation is as dead as CTU's. McConnell is just trying to throw us off by feeding us misinformation - or he already suspects some of his agents are involved with Brice Holman's rogue operation and he wants to cover their a.s.ses.”
Morris shook his head. ”With the satellite system down on the East Coast and the FBI keeping us at arm's length, we're effectively on our own.”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. ”What else is new?”
The intercom buzzed again. Jack answered, putting it on speaker.
”Special Agent Bauer? This is Rachel Delgado, Security. I wanted to let you know that I've located Deputy Director Judith Foy. She's been injured in the line of duty. A traffic accident, according to the police. Right now, she's a patient in Newark General Hospital.”
Jack watched Layla. She remained composed, but her expression had fallen. She was obviously upset.
”Thank you Ms. Delgado,” said Jack, disconnecting. He met Layla's gaze. ”I'm dispatching Special Agent Almeida to Newark,” he told her. ”I want Tony to interrogate Deputy Director Foy as soon as possible.”
Layla nodded. ”I want to go with him.”
”No,” said Jack. Then he softened his voice. ”I'm sorry, Agent Abernathy. I need you here. But I'd like you to send another agent. Someone you trust. Someone who knows New Jersey.”
11:46:29AM. EDT.
District Congressional Office Flemington, New Jersey ”Congresswoman Williams? Are you ready for your eleven forty-five?”
”Yes, Melinda,” Hailey Williams replied over the intercom. ”Send him in.”
The slender, African-American Congresswoman adjusted the gray blazer of her tailored, pinstriped suit. As her office door swung wide, she rose from behind her desk to greet the man striding into the room.
Hailey frowned, expecting a black man named Montel Tanner. Montel was the usual liaison between herself and Ali Rahman al Sallifi. In fact, it had been Montel who'd called her the day before, promising another lucrative donation to her upcoming campaign in exchange for a small favor.
Hailey had been only too happy to agree to the meeting. Her campaign coffers were alarmingly low these days, her expenses increasingly high, and she knew al Sallifi was a man who could be counted on for financial support.
Hailey had helped al Sallifi in the past, and she was more than willing to do so again. Yes, one reason was the money. Hailey was no stranger to hardball politics - and she was certainly no saint when it came to running her campaigns. But she did honestly believe in al Sallifi's work with prisoners.
Sure, Hailey appeared to be living a charmed life now: married to a prominent public defender, a graduate of Howard University, two graduate degrees from Princeton. But she was far from a child of privilege.
Hailey was the third daughter to a single mother, whose father had died at the hands of guards in a state penitentiary, and three of her cousins had done time in prisons. To Hailey, prisoners were lost souls in need of guidance, and she firmly believed that once someone had served his or her time, that person deserved an unprejudiced chance to begin again.
She had proudly defended Ali Rahman al Sallifi, his Warriors of G.o.d organization, and its rural New Jersey Kurmastan settlement precisely because they held the same outlook that she did when it came to these lost souls of society.
Hailey had never actually examined the group's specific religious teachings. As an agnostic, she personally wasn't interested - although she did recognize and respect that any religion was a form of philosophy that could be very helpful in turning around certain troubled men and women.
For her, it was enough to know that the group was a religious-based organization that gave the state's ex-cons direction, focus, and a halfway home after they left their prison lives. Montel always a.s.sured her of that. In fact, Montel had been very pleasant to meet with from the start. That was another reason she was a bit taken aback to find a different sort of man greeting her today.
His manner was very cold. And his skin was so very pale. The whiteness of it looked almost unnatural to Hailey, quite off-putting, but she hid her reaction and extended her hand.
The Albino ignored it. Instead, he simply dropped his large briefcase down on the edge of her desk and opened it. There was computer inside. He tapped a few keys, and the screen came to life. The Congresswoman noted that the satellite system quickly located a remote wireless connection and locked on to it.
”Ibrahim Noor sent me,” the man began, speaking in a thin, raspy voice.
”Noor?” Hailey Williams said, frowning. ”Not Ali Rahman al Sallifr?”
A tight-lipped smile of regret spread across the man's ghost-pale features. ”I'm afraid the Imam is quite busy with his clerical duties. Ibrahim Noor is handling political matters these days.”
”I see.”
Hailey sank back into her chair, waiting while the albino man stooped over the portable computer, long fingers drumming the miniature keyboard. Finally, he straightened up, turned the computer so it faced the Congresswoman.
”The site for the Palm Bank of the Cayman Islands is displayed,” he said. ”Please punch in the pa.s.sword to your account.”
The woman's jaw dropped. ”How do you know about that account?” she demanded, half rising from her chair again.
”Just enter the pa.s.sword, please,” he repeated.
With a frown, the Congresswoman punched in the numbers. Her balance and a list of transactions came up immediately.
”Don't go messing with my account,” she warned.
The man smiled again. ”Ibrahim Noor has a proposal for you. He wants you to cancel your appearance with Reverend Ahern this afternoon.”
”But... I don't understand... my meeting with the Reverend was precisely to smooth things over for the Warriors of G.o.d. It's been members of Reverend Ahern's congregation who've been complaining about activities at Kurmastan...”
”Ibrahim Noor desires to meet with the neighboring group personally” personally” said the Albino. ”What he does not desire is further said the Albino. ”What he does not desire is further publicity publicity about Kurmastan.” about Kurmastan.”
”But publicity is the point!” Hailey argued. ”My meeting was supposed to be covered by the local press. I was hoping to use it as the kickoff for my reelection campaign. To show my support for diversity. Tolerance. Why should I give up on it?”
”For money,” the Albino said flatly. ”A quite substantial amount of money, wired anonymously to your account. Money no one will ever have to know about. Not the Federal Elections Commission, not the Treasury Department nor the IRS.”
Hailey frowned, considering this. ”Why would Mr. Noor make such an offer? Surely there are strings attached.”
The Albino shook his head. ”It is a gift, truly. We only ask that you stay away from Reverend Ahern, and not join him on his visit to Kurmastan. Send your sincere regrets instead. In return, we offer you this token of our friends.h.i.+p - one million euros.”
”Euros!” The Congresswoman shook her head. ”I'm sorry, but I'd rather be paid in U.S. currency.”
The man tossed his blond mane in an almost effeminate gesture of disdain. ”In time you will thank Ibrahim Noor for his generosity and foresight.”
Hailey narrowed her eyes. ”Now why would I do that?”
The Albino offered her a thin smile. ”Because in two weeks, Madam Congresswoman, a sheet of toilet paper will be far more valuable than United States currency.”
11:57:41 P.M. EDT.
Security Station One CTU Headquarters, NYC ”Sorry, our satellite bandwidth is all tied up right now. Have a nice day.”
Morris hung up the phone.