Free The Lost Codex by Alan Jacobson Page B

what?”
    “We can speculate, but speculation isn’t actionable intelligence. One thing he said is that it sounded like this arrangement had been going on for some time. Years.”
    Years? Uzi stepped closer and dropped his chin. “Have you heard anything about suicide bombers setting up shop in the US?”
    Aksel’s face remained impassive, but he looked off into Lafayette Park, beyond Uzi’s left shoulder. “That’s the second reason for my trip to Washington. Be careful, Uzi, you’re coming close to impressing me.”
    Uzi forced a grin. He was not going to let Aksel goad him into an argument. “When do you think you can get back to me on that recording?”
    “I’ll have the lab get right on it.”
    “Oh—whatever you find, the only people authorized are Knox, Tassett, and me. Don’t put it through normal channels. Is Roni still there? Can you give it to him?”
    Aksel unfurled a handkerchief from his wool overcoat, removed his glasses and huffed on them, then wiped away the smudges. A long moment passed before he set them back on his nose and peered at Uzi with a tilted head. “I thought you gave up covert ops when you left Mossad.”
    Uzi had no answer to that other than the truth. “So did I, Gideon.”

10
    U zi was standing in the Washington field office elevator with Vail and DeSantos when his phone rang.
    “Whoa, hang on a sec, Hoshi. I’m in the building on my way up. Can it wait?” He glanced at the floor number. “Thirty seconds.”
    “What’s the deal?” Vail asked as he dropped the phone back in his pocket.
    “One of my task force agents. Something urgent.”
    “How is Hoshi?” DeSantos asked with a wink.
    “Why are you looking at me like that? She’s fine.”
    “Yes, she is. Very fine.” He held his hands up. “Hey, you know she likes you, Boychick.”
    The doors slid apart and they followed Uzi through the glass security doors and into the large open room where Hoshi’s cubicle was located.
    “I remember you,” Hoshi said. “DeSantos. Hector.”
    “Well, I prefer Hector DeSantos. No pauses between the names. But yeah, that’s me.”
    “And I’m Karen Vail, BAU. I don’t think we’ve met.”
    “Hoshi Koh. I’m Uzi’s right-hand man.” She glanced at Uzi, then added, “So to speak.” Hoshi grabbed a set of headphones and handed them to Uzi. “This call just came through. I took it and started recording as soon as I realized what the guy was talking about. I missed the first ten seconds.” She struck a few keys on her computer and Uzi listened, then said, “Okay, stop. Send this to my desktop.” He motioned Vail and DeSantos to follow him into his office.
    They stepped inside and Vail closed the door. Uzi sat down at his desk and turned on the two speakers. He pressed play and the recording started: “… long you think you can pull off this charade about calling it a gas main explosion.”
    “Sir, I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
    Hoshi’s voice.
    “You the fucking FBI? The Joint Terrorism Task Force?”
    “Yes sir. You said you had information for us on—”
    “I want to talk to someone who’s in charge.”
    “You can talk with me. I’m in a position of authority. I’m a supervisory special agent.”
    “Not good enough. I’m going to call back in twenty minutes. If you don’t put me through to someone in charge, you and your FBI are going to be sorry.”
    The recording stopped.
    A knock at the door, and Hoshi appeared. “Assuming he’s punctual, he’ll be calling in about seven minutes.”
    “What tipped you off?” Vail asked. “Why’d you start recording?”
    “The first thing he said to me was, ‘I have information about the bombing last night.’”
    “Let’s be ready to record when he calls again.”
    “That sounds like the same voice,” Vail said.
    “Same voice?” Hoshi asked.
    Uzi glanced at DeSantos. “Uh, can you give us a moment, Hoshi?”
    She stepped back. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
    DeSantos turned to Vail.