Sleeper Cell by Chris Culver

Author:Chris Culver [Culver, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-08T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 22

With a helicopter in the air and my car beside Nassir’s Cadillac at the clubhouse, escape wasn’t an option. I pulled out my cell phone and called Kevin Havelock at the Bureau. His phone rang four times before going to voicemail.

“Havelock, it’s Ash Rashid. I’m at Nassir’s camp right now, and I think I’m going to be arrested. If these are your guys, let them know I’m here. If they’re not, I’d appreciate it if you called Homeland Security to let them know I work for you.”

I hung up immediately and began dialing my wife’s number. Trails of dust followed the convoy of vehicles as they sped across the gravel road. The helicopter I had heard earlier streaked overhead and hovered in the center of the property a couple hundred feet from the ground. Hopefully Nassir and his friends would know to give up without a fight. They didn’t need to get hurt. Hannah’s cell rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello?”

It was my daughter’s soft voice.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I said, trying to make my voice sound calm. “Can you put Ummi on the phone, please?”

“She’s in the shower.”

I forced myself to smile and hoped it came through my voice. “Okay. Open the bathroom door and give her the phone.”

Megan hesitated. “I’m not allowed. She’ll put me in timeout.”

“She won’t put you in timeout, honey,” I said. “This is an emergency. Open the bathroom door and give her the phone.”

Almost the moment I finished speaking, the nose of the helicopter dipped as it began creeping toward me. In movies, my connection probably would have begun crackling or breaking in and out. That didn’t happen. Instead, the connection simply dropped before my daughter could even say anything. The helicopter must have had some kind of cell-jamming device. We used them, too, when we attempted to arrest suspects who we thought might use their phones to call additional support.

I slipped my cell into my pocket and stepped out from beneath the canopy of trees. Already, one black SUV peeled away from the group near the clubhouse to close in on my position. The helicopter stayed overhead long enough for the SUV to skid to a stop near me. Four men jumped out. All four carried tactical rifles, and all four trained them on my chest. None of the men wore insignia for any law enforcement agency.

I got on my knees without them having to ask.

“I’m an armed police officer, and I’m on the job,” I said.

Two of the men hurried behind me, while the other two stayed in front.

“Lie on the ground, and lace your fingers behind your head,” said one of the men in front of me.

“I have a firearm and a badge on my belt,” I said, complying with the order and slowly lying down. “I’m cooperating. Please don’t shoot me.”

“Face in the dirt. Lie on the ground.”

The voice was close behind me. Before I could brace myself, pain exploded in my shoulder as a heavy boot kicked me. My teeth sliced into my tongue, drawing blood.

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