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Download OK! - 04 April 2011 by Lisa Byrne (Editor) PDF

By Lisa Byrne (Editor)

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Example text

Hey, how’s your arm? ” I showed him. Just a bad bruise. They took Jerry away and I started answering questions, some of them for the Feds in the unmarked BDUs. Javad hadn’t been armed and I’d drilled him in the back so there would be a routine investigation, but my lieutenant told me it was a no-brainer. That was Tuesday morning and this was Saturday morning. So why was I in a car with three Feds? They weren’t talking. So, I sat back and waited. M. THEY PUT ME in a room that had a table, two chairs, and a big picture window with a drawn curtain.

All at once his head snapped up and his eyes popped open as he shot to his feet and spun toward me. My heart skipped. I recognized the guy. The pale, sweaty face, the glazed pop-eyed stare. It was Javad-the terrorist I’d shot and killed back in Baltimore. He hissed like a cat and threw himself at me. He was maybe one-fifty, five seven, but he hit me in the chest like a cannonball, driving us both across the room so hard that my back crunched against the rear wall. I hit my head and sparks burst in my eyes.

Truth is that if they tell us then we might play too significant a role in the arrest, which means they get less credit. It’s what got us into trouble with 9/11, and as far as I can tell it really hasn’t gotten much better since. Then this past Monday I caught a little back and forth from a cell phone we were spooking. One name popped up-a Yemen national named El Mujahid, who was a pretty big fish in the terrorist pond and was on Homeland’s must-have list-and the guy talking about him spoke as if El Mujahid was somehow involved in whatever the crew in the warehouse were cooking.

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