Free Black Wolf (2010) by Dale Brown

laws are very strict about wiretaps.”
    “When they want to be,” said Gregor.
    Nuri shot her a glare he hoped would laser a hole through the side of her head. He’d told her to say absolutely nothing.
    A smile flickered in La Rota’s long, pale face, and the hairs in his thin goatee rustled. But his tone was almost scolding.
    “Whatever you and I may think of the law,” he said, focusing on Nuri, “we must observe it.”
    “True,” said Nuri. “Which is why the Libyan government filed its own indictments. The conversations were recorded in its jurisdiction.”
    He unfolded a letter from the Libyan justice ministry indicating not only interest in the case, but promising that an arrest warrant would be issued by the appropriate authorities by the end of the day.
    In Libyan time, “end of the day” meant within the next three months, a fact La Rota was clearly aware of.
    “I have dealt with the Libyans before,” he told Nuri. “On several occasions.”
    La Rota took off his glasses and began cleaning them.
    “Still, this is very persuasive,” he told Nuri. “I believe I will be able to get my superiors to consider action on its basis.”
    “I thought you were in charge,” said Nuri.
    “Oh I am, of course.”
    “Then can’t you authorize a raid?”
    The magistrate blanched. “A raid?”
    “A visit, I mean,” said Nuri. “An interview. To speak to Mr. Moreno?”
    “You don’t understand the situation, I’m afraid. One does not simply speak to Mr. Moreno.”
    “Arrest him, then.”
    “Perhaps we will be able to do that,” said La Rota. “Once the commission reviews the evidence.”
    “How long will this review last?” asked Gregor.
    Nuri glared at Gregor again, even though he would have asked the question himself had she not interrupted.
    “A while,” said La Rota indulgently.
    “That’s how long?”
    “It is very difficult to predict.”
    “By the end of the day?” said Nuri, as suggestively as he could.
    “A day? For something like this?” La Rota laughed.
    “Not next week,” said Nuri hopefully.
    “Oh no, not next week. Something like this—a case has to be made. The way must be prepared.”
    “You’re talking months,” said Gregor.
    La Rota held out his hands in a gesture that meant if that.
    “Is there any way to speed up the process?” Nuri asked.
    “Usually not.”
    “What if he murdered someone?” asked Gregor.
    “Oh, I’m sure a man like Alfredo Moreno has been responsible for murdering many people,” answered La Rota. “You would be surprised. These men are animals. They murder for pleasure, for business, for many reasons.”
    “If it was an important murder, in a prominent case?” said Nuri, grasping at straws.
    “In that case, perhaps by July.”
    “I told you the Italians were impossible to deal with,” said Gregor as they walked out of the building. “It’s a complete waste of time.”
    The FBI agent had said no such thing—just the opposite in fact: she’d expressed optimism that they would be inside Moreno’s compound by nightfall. But Nuri was in no mood to argue.
    “We can interview him ourselves,” she continued. “I can get someone from the local office to act as a translator—”
    “We’re not interviewing him,” said Nuri sharply.
    “You’re just going to drop it?”
    “It’s not my call,” said Nuri noncommittally.
    He nodded at the Italian policeman at the foot of the steps of the justice building, then walked in the direction of their car. One thing he had to say for the Italians—they didn’t skimp when it came to police stations. The ministry was a veritable palace, with an exterior as grand as anything Nuri had ever seen in the States.
    “We can arrest him on an American warrant,” said Gregor. “I can arrange—”
    “You and what army?” said Nuri.
    Gregor had made quite a lot of progress in less than eight hours—first she was a wet blanket, now she was Wyatt Earp.
    Nuri had rented a small Fiat, which put him