Chapter Five
Sloan had the biggest urge to drop the idiot right there and then. Only respect for the badge and the prick’s relationship with Don stopped him.
“Seriously, man? Terrorists? Give me a break.”
Don interrupted. “Sloan, listen. No one’s being accused here. There’ve been some strange goings-on in that house. They’re expecting visitors who we’ve ascertained have ties to other suspected terrorists back on the mainland. And Mrs. Aman—”
“Her name is Janna, as you well know.”
“Janna, then, has a brother, who’s recently become of interest to Homeland Security.”
Involved, unable to stop himself, Sloan fired back. “How do you know all this?”
“We’ve had a few of our Muslim operatives join with a certain community in California and they’ve reported information about her brother and his family. Look, we’re not saying these people are involved. What we are saying is they need to be watched, and you’ve got the perfect house from which we can do so.”
Shaking his head, Sloan cut in. “Hold it, buddy. I work twelve hours a day at this garage. And… I have to be here, you know that. So how do you propose for me to be in two places at once?” He came around the desk and leaned against the edge. Crossing his arms, he tried to hold in his aggravation. Tormented by his longing to dig into the story more, his voice harsher than he would have liked, he added. “No can do, pal. Sorry.”
“Hey, do I look like an idiot? I know your situation better than anyone, so when this was discussed back at the agency, we came up with a fool-proof plan.”
Tantalized, Sloan waited to see what this fabulous proposal was.
“Since you can’t be the one to investigate these people, we have an agent who’s perfect for the job. Al has been involved with Muslims, grew up with an aunt who married a Pakistani man and lived with them for a number of years in that country, and… understands their faith and the language. You have a roomy house, three bedrooms, and can have a new roommate without anyone getting suspicious.”
Instant rejection filled Sloan’s expression. “That won’t work for me. I like being alone after my long days here at the garage. I don’t need some slob of an agent hanging around, disturbing my belongings and leaving his gear messing up my place.”
Sloan had always been a neatnik, one of the quirks of his personality that had driven his father, Tommy, around the bend. It had forced Sloan to move out at an early age and buy a place of his own as soon as his wages with the FBI had allowed.
It had also started a lot of fights at the garage when his father had been in charge, and where Sloan had worked quite often, helping them out in a pinch. His amazing talent for drawing the specifications for remodeling the vehicles they took on had been passed down from father to son.
The last few years, probably because of his earlier boozing habit, Tom’s hand hadn’t been quite steady enough for the more detailed sections. Mostly, he’d relied on Sloan. But every time Sloan had walked into the place, his hackles had risen and he’d gotten that same claustrophobic feeling. The mess in the joint had driven him nuts.
Snatching Sloan’s attention with a cough, Don shook his head. “We weren’t thinking of a full-on, typical undercover stake-out. We’d thought of a more casual kind of surveillance, unless things get hot and then we’d make a change. But for now, we just need to get someone in closer with the family, who can kind of infiltrate into their everyday lives, get involved on a more than casual level, meet their acquaintances, learn who they typically spend time with, what activities they’re involved in, you know—that kind of thing.”
Totally stymied, Sloan didn’t hide his suspicion. “And how the fuck do you figure to make all that happen?”
Don’s chuckle and his hands rubbing together brought Sloan to attention. “My man, trust me. Our secret weapon will make even you go along with this operation.”
Hackles raised, not too stupid, Sloan visualized the woman who was even now wandering his garage and entertaining his mechanic. “Does the chick outside have anything to do with this hackneyed, crazy-assed plan of yours?”
“She is the plan. And it’s beautiful. Let me introduce her and you’ll see what I mean.”
“Not gonna happen. If you’re thinking I’d hate rooming with a man, you’re right. But living in the same house as a broad with legs like hers is a total no-goddam-way-in-hell.” Sloan meant every word. “Have a heart, bro.”
“Wait, you haven’t heard it all.” Don wiped his hands on the sides of his pants, his tell for when he felt deeply about something. “She’ll be your fiancée, girlfriend, ex-wife, hell… for all I care, your common-law floozy. Whatever you want to name her. But she’s our best hope in uncovering secrets to stop possible terrorist activities from taking place on the island. Like I told you, she’s got a background of living with Muslims and understands their ways. If you don’t agree with going along with this plan, you won’t believe the lengths the department is willing to go to. They’re serious, Sloan. Homeland Security will harass those poor people, and you and I both know the damage they can do. If you care about the Amans at all, let us set this up.”
Sloan pictured Sam and his family at the latest street barbecue, the shy way they interacted with the neighbors, little Dina running to him to be picked up and comforted after a fall she’d taken from her bike, her small arms confidentially circling his neck. They were a nice family. How could he let the government pursue these people, pester them until their lives were ruined or they were forced to move?
Still hedging, he asked, “What qualifications does this agent have? When did she move to Hawaii? How come I never met her?”
Nigel finally spoke up. “Her name is Special Agent Alia Hawkins and she transferred in from San Diego last month. She has impeccable credentials. Both her aunt and uncle belonged to the Muslim faith and after her parents died, she lived with their family until she’d graduated high school with honors through correspondence. Then she returned to the States and went to university in Chicago. After getting her Bachelor of Science in Criminology, she took her training at Quantico.”
Don moved between Sloan and Nigel to draw Sloan’s attention. “For the sake of Sam and his family, man, you need to do this.”
Sloan replied, his voice filled with disgust. “Well, fuck!”