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“Is it common for German police to subdue suspects with stun guns?” asked Harvath.
“I don’t know,” said Heinrich scared of what might happen if he didn’t answer every question the American was asking.
“He wasn’t talking to you,Dummkopf,” said Max, slapping him in the head. “He was talking to me.” Turning toward Harvath he said, “No. Using a stun gun to subdue a suspect is very unusual. That’s why I thought you might want to hear Heinrich’s story for yourself and have a chance to ask him questions. Do you have anything else?”
Harvath asked Heinrich to describe the “policemen” and their car. The waiter gave the best description he could, stating that he did not really get a good look at anything. The car might have been a Volkswagen, or it could have been a Mercedes. He couldn’t tell. As far as the license plate was concerned, he hadn’t bothered taking a very good look at it. What was the point? Besides, the car pulled out and took off so fast, he wouldn’t have been able to see anything if he wanted to. The cops had been in such a hurry, he was surprised they hadn’t broadsided anyone when they tore through the intersection at the end of the block.
When Harvath had heard enough, he nodded to Max that he was finished. Heinrich knew what was coming and flattened himself down in the trunk just as Max slammed the lid shut.
Just in case Heinrich might be listening, Herman drew the men several yards away from the car so they could talk. “Now we know at least part of what happened to your friend.”
“Those guys obviously weren’t cops and to go to that great a risk in broad daylight,” said Max, shaking his head, “someone must have wanted your friend very badly.”
“I agree. So, what do you want to do?” asked Sebastian.
“If Heinrich saw something, chances are somebody else did as well,” replied Harvath.
“Like what?” said Herman “Something that looked like a police arrest? Even if we could find witnesses, they will have their own version of what happened. You know how these things go. People subconsciously color events with their own details-things they thought they saw. At best, we might get a partial description of the men who jumped your friend.”
“Or maybe a partial license plate,” responded Harvath.
Herman rubbed his forehead again with the butt of his hand before responding. “I think the odds are not in our favor.”
Harvath was getting progressively more frustrated. “Not in our favor?I don’t know how you conduct investigations in Germany, but-”
“The police conduct investigations,” answered Sebastian, “and they are already crawling all over that neighborhood questioning everyone about the shooting. Herman is right. The odds of finding someone with something of value are not in our favor. Witnesses are too unreliable.”
Harvath told himself to calm down. He knew that often his temper could get the better of him. These men were on his side. They had stuck their necks out to help him and he needed to bear that in mind. There had to be something they could do. Seeing red was not going to help. Then it hit him!Seeing red.
“What about video?”
“Video?What video?”
“There was a bank across the street from the apartment. They had two ATM machines outside with a red logo above them. What about their security footage?”
“You mean footage from cameras positioned to monitor people going in and out of the bank and using the ATMs?”
“Yes.”
“I would imagine the footage would only show people going in and out of the bank and using the ATMs.”
“But it might show something else.”
Herman shook his head. “It’s a long shot.”
“At this point, a long shot is all we have,” said Harvath.
“He may be right,” said Max. “Many of the security cameras now incorporate improved wide-angle lenses with increased depth of field. In case of a robbery, there’s a lot more information available on what was happening outside the bank, such as where the escape vehicle was parked, which direction it took and so on.”
“Speaking of which,” said Harvath, glad that his theory was gaining ground, “What about the traffic cameras at both intersections on Goltzstrasse?”
“Those I am not so sure of,” responded Max. “They only activate when a traffic violation has taken place and they are limited to photographing the vehicle while it is in the intersection.”
“But it sounds like the car we’re looking for may have committed a traffic violation leaving the scene,” said Harvath.
“It’s possible,” replied Max.
“Of course it’s possible, especially if they were in a hurry. With a snatch and grab, the key is to get away as fast as possible. You don’t wait around for anything. You want to get the hell out of there.”
“But even if we did agree with you about the footage,” said Herman. “How are we going to get access to it?”
“That’s simple,” said Max with a smile, anticipating the challenge. “We’ll go in and take it.”
“Absolutely not,” replied Sebastian, who turned his attention to Harvath. “I appreciate what you did for me in the apartment and I don’t want you to doubt that, but this has become very dangerous. What we did for you, we did as a favor to Herman and that favor is now over. Without some clear and evident threat to German national security, there is nothing else we can do for you.”
Harvath had known that this moment would come. He had been trying to figure out exactly what, and how much, he could tell Herman and the rest of the MEK operatives to extend their cooperation, but not jeopardize his assignment. As he stood facing Herman, Sebastian, and Max, he made a decision. It was the moment of truth, or half-truth at least. He carefully reviewed in his mind what he was going to say and offered, “The United States is being faced with a very serious and imminent terrorist action which is to take place in less than seven days. The man I came looking for has information that could help prevent that attack. The terrorists know this and we believe that is why he was kidnapped.”
“What kind of attack are we talking about?” asked Sebastian.
“Something very big that will happen in several different U.S. cities on the same day.”
“And what is the threat to Germany?”
“There is a remote chance the terrorists may have plans to target the major cities of our allies as well.”
“Do you know who the terrorists are?” asked Herman.
Though he hated to do it, he had to. Harvath looked his friend right in the eye and kept on lying. “No, we have no idea.”
“So,” continued Sebastian, “you are saying that there may or may not be plans to launch a major terrorist action within the Federal Republic of Germany by a group of unknown persons sometime within the next seven days?”
“Yes.”
“Why hasn’t your government shared this information with us?”
“Because it’s highly speculative as to the risk Germany faces.”
“How speculative the risk should be up to us to ascertain.”
“I agree, which is why I am telling you this.”
“In all fairness, you haven’t told us much,” replied Herman.
“You now know what we know. Listen, this whole thing can be derailed if we locate the man I am looking for.”
“Who is he?”
“I can’t say.”
“Can’t say, or won’t say,” queried Sebastian, “because I have to have more than you’ve given me if I am going to authorize any more cooperation.”
Harvath met Sebastian’s gaze and realized he was going to have to give the man something substantial. “His name is Gary Lawlor.”
The three men standing in front of him were stu
“The deputy director of the FBI?” asked Herman.
“Former deputy director,” replied Harvath, “He now heads a new division of our Department of Homeland Security called the Office of International Investigative Assistance.”
“What does this office do exactly?”
“Their mission is to help solve and prevent terrorist acts against Americans and American interests both at home and abroad.”