CHAPTER 16
“Because I believe that abortion is murder, I also believe that force is justified in an attempt to stop it. Because this government is committed to the policy of maintaining the policy of abortion and protecting it, the agents of this government are the agents of mass murder, whether knowingly or unknowingly. And whether these agents of the government are armed or otherwise they are legitimate targets in the war to end this holocaust, especially those agents who carry arms in defense of this regime and the enforcement of its laws.” Eric Robert Rudolph, 2005
Just as Toby took his last sip of coffee at the Pirate’s House, his miniature phone began to ring quietly in his ear. He could tell by the special ring that the caller was Tad.
“Hi, what’s up?”
“A lot,” Davenport replied. “Are you alone?”
“Only if you don’t count the restaurant employees and customers,” Toby replied. “But, I’ll be back to the hotel in five minutes. Why don’t I call you then?”
“I tell you what,” Tad replied. “I’ll call you when I get home. I’ve been here at the office much too long already.”
Toby paid his bill and then headed back to the Mulberry. By the time he got to his room, changed into his pajamas and watched a little of the news, Tad called. She wasted no time explaining the reason.
“After we talked earlier this evening, I received a call from my friend Charlene McGill over at Homeland Security,” she said. “You remember Charley?”
“Of course,” Sullivan responded.
“Well, Charley has been looking into all of the information that Homeland Security has regarding the terrorists who were supposedly living in the house near Leesburg, and their folks have no intelligence at all on these people except what the FBI has provided. Charley finds that to be a little odd, because Homeland Security has a rather extensive list of people in this country who have even remote ties with al-Qaida, and this includes people who know people who know other people who know people in al-Qaida.”
“Which means what?” Toby asked.
Charley doesn’t know, and neither do I,” Tad said. “The best guess we have is that the terrorists may have just recently snuck in, probably from Canada or Mexico. Or another possibility is that they could be American Muslims who have been in this country their entire lives.”
“Which, if that is true, will make the search even more difficult,” Toby said. “Anything else?”
“Not an awful lot,” Tad said, “but I do have some more information about the rental house. It seems that the rental agent is the sister-in-law of Sheriff Hollis Richardson. Isn’t that a hoot?”
“You mean the terrorists- if that’s who they were- rented the house right under the nose of the local sheriff?” Toby laughed. “That is amazing. How did you find that out?”
“Remember the day that you, Trey and Drake searched the house,” she reminded him. “Drake called and told me to call the agent who rented the house and find out what I could. I tracked down the agent’s name- Jennifer Edwards- but she was out of town. When I finally did reach her, her relationship to the sheriff just came up in our conversation.”
“And how was she contacted about the house?” Sullivan asked.
“She received a phone call from someone she says had an mid-eastern accent who claimed to have business in the D.C. area and wanted to know if he could rent that particular house for three months,” Tad explained. When she said that the owners would take nothing less than a six-month lease, he agreed. She mailed the lease to an address in Washington, which we now know is a box in one of those privately owned packing and shipping companies. And we also know that the name given, George Clinton, was fictitious.”
“And so Ms. Edwards never saw the mysterious Mr. Clinton?” Toby asked. “Didn’t she think it unusual for someone with a mid-eastern accent to be named George Clinton? Didn’t that set off any bells?”
“She admitted that it should have,” Tad said, “but the house had been vacant for so long and the owners so anxious to rent it, that she decided to leave well enough alone, especially when Mr. Clinton, or whoever he was, paid all six months rent up front in cash.”
“I see that money talks- even in a Christian society,” said Toby. “Anything else?”
“As a matter of fact, there is one more thing, although it may mean nothing,” Tad answered. “I talked with a colleague at the CIA who says that the terrorism experts in the agency are extremely surprised that there wasn’t more Internet chatter over the few weeks leading up to the first bombings and that there hasn’t been much since the attacks began. They also find it interesting that a lot of the chatter that they are hearing seems to be among terrorists trying to find out who is responsible for the bombings.”
“So even the terrorists themselves don’t know who is responsible,” Toby said. “That could lend support to the idea that we have some homegrown terrorists, or a very deep-sleeper cell, amongst us. One thing is sure, and that is that these are very clever people. They don‘t leave any tracks.”
“That’s why I found all of these things so interesting,” said Tad. “Taken together, they indicate to me that we may not be looking for the usual international terrorism suspects such as al-Qaida operatives. If that were the case, we would at least have some idea of who they were and where they came from. In my view, we are looking for a new breed of terrorist.”
“So where would you begin searching?” Toby asked.
“Given the targets, I think I would look at anti-government groups, such as the Thomas Paine Society, or eccentric types such as the Unibomber,” she responded. “At the very least, I would expand the investigation beyond al-Qaida.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Toby said. “But I still may ask Drake to send you down to help reach out to the Muslim community, if for no other reason than to convince him that we’re looking for the wrong people.”
“That will be fine with me,” Tad responded. “Anything beats the boring stuff he has me doing. And besides, I wouldn’t mind being with you in Savannah again- especially at the Mulberry.”
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The next morning, Toby awoke around 6 a.m., showered, dressed and walked down to the lobby to get a cup of coffee from the silver-plated urn near the entrance to the restaurant which overlooked the same courtyard as Toby’s room. After fixing a cup of coffee to his taste, with heavy cream and no sweetener, he found a table and ordered a light breakfast consisting of a bowl of oatmeal and a bagel. As he ate, he read the Savannah newspaper’s account of the previous day’s tragic bombing.
GOVERNOR ARNOLD CRITICALLY INJURED
Car bomb kills driver; injures others
Savannah - A powerful car bomb exploded just as the car carrying Georgia Governor Paul Arnold passed on the way to the annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade, killing the governor’s driver and sending the governor to the hospital, where he remains in critical condition. So far, no one has claimed responsibility for the blast and authorities have no suspects. Lieutenant Governor Peter Hunt is serving as acting governor until such time as Arnold is well enough to resume his duties.
“It is my fervent prayer that Governor Arnold will recover quickly and fully,” Hunt said as he addressed members of the Georgia General Assembly who were in session in Atlanta. “I will exercise only those official duties of the office of governor that are essential to keep state government operating,” he told the legislators.
Because Georgia’s governor and lieutenant governor do not run as a team, Arnold is a member of the National Liberty Party, while Hunt is a member of the Christian Democratic-Republican Party. During the 14 months they have both been in office, they have clashed often on issues, particularly those relating to separation of church and state. Personally, however, they are said to be good friends, having served together in the state senate for 10 years.
Toby put the paper down and buttered his bagel while it was warm. Then he began eating his oatmeal while thinking about what Tad had told him the previous night. This latest bombing seemed to support her theory, because there was no reason that he could think of that an international terrorist would want to harm the governor of the state of Georgia. He had nothing to do with foreign policy, and besides, he wasn’t a nationally known personality. But to a domestic, anti-government kook, the governor of Georgia was as good a target as any other government official.
After finishing his bagel and cereal, Sullivan saw another headline that peaked his interest:
Polls Show Close Race for President; Congress
Washington, D.C.- A poll commissioned and just released by a consortium of national news organizations shows a race that is too close to call between incumbent President John McNeal of the Christian Democratic-Republican Party, and Senator Robert Clay of New York, frontrunner for the nomination of the National Liberty Party. The same poll shows that voters are almost evenly divided in their choice for congressional candidates, with the minority National Libertarians in a good position to win four or five house seats and three or four in the senate.
“Damn, I hope that the NLP gains some seats,” Toby said to himself, as he opened the paper to an editorial calling for the president to get tougher on governments that harbor terrorists. After glancing at a few other articles, he took a final sip of coffee and headed out to catch the water taxi to Hutchinson Island where he was scheduled to meet Trey at the hotel.
Walking toward the river, Toby breathed the cool, spring air, scented with the fragrance of sweet tea olives, camellias and roses. He found himself asking once again how a God that could create such beauty could allow people of different faiths to kill one another in His name. If people from different cultures believe with all their being that theirs is the one true religion, doesn’t it make more sense that they are all mistaken rather than that only one group is right? he asked himself.
Arriving at the dock just as a water taxi arrived, Toby made it to the hotel about five minutes early.
“Can’t believe you’re actually here early?” Rawlings said,
“Come on, Trey. I’m always on time,” Toby said as he flashed one of his more charming smiles. “Where’s Giordano?”
“He said he had to make a couple of calls and would be down a little later,” Trey responded. “He asked if we could wait for him in lobby.”
“How did you two survive the evening?” Sullivan asked. “Did you come up with any interesting theories about the case?”
“Now that you mention it, we barely talked about it,” Trey answered. “We talked almost the entire time about scripture.”
Given the importance of the case, Toby thought it a little odd that the two FBI agents had spent most of their time talking about religion, but he decided not to make an issue of it.
“That’s right,” he responded. “ Who won the ‘Name that Scripture Verse’ contest?”
“Irreverent as usual,” Trey responded. “No one ‘won’. Giordano just wanted to share some scripture passages and get my take on them.”
“I didn’t think you evangelicals were allowed to have a ‘take’ on the scriptures,” said Toby. “I thought the words of the Bible were meant to be taken at face value with no interpretation needed or allowed.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Trey explained. “Let’s get a cup of coffee and I’ll try to explain it to you while we’re waiting for Tony.”
Having raised the topic himself, Toby agreed to allow his partner to give him more information than he had ever wanted about evangelicals and their perspective on the Bible. He followed Trey to the coffee stand where they purchased tall cups of the coffee of the day, and then returned to some comfortable chairs in the lobby. Rawlings began his explanation, aware that he was talking to someone who was skeptical not only of Evangelicalism, but of religion in general.
“The first thing you need to understand, Sullivan, is that not all evangelicals believe that God made the world in seven 24-hour days and that Noah had a pair of every living animal on the arc.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Toby said before taking a small sip of the hot coffee.
“The truth is that many evangelicals struggle to understand the meaning of the Bible. This is where translation, incomplete knowledge and interpretation come in,” explained Trey. “However, it is interpretation based on some fairly clear principles, not just personal speculation or feeling.”
“Principles such as?” Sullivan asked.
“The first principle is that Biblical passages must be taken to mean what their human writers were trying to express,” Trey answered. “This reflects the Renaissance concept- which led to the Reformation- that all ancient documents should be understood literally as opposed to allegorically.”
“Literally. Okay, I got it,” said Toby.
“Okay, then, the second principle is that the harmony and truth of all biblical teaching must be taken as a working hypothesis in interpretation. What this means is that one text of Scripture cannot be set against another, nor must what appear to be contradictions or inconsistencies be taken or treated as such.”
“Well, how convenient,” Toby said. “If two passages of the Bible appear to be conflicting, you simply say that they aren’t and can’t be, because they are both in the Bible, and therefore must both be true.”
“It’s not that simplistic,” Trey said, continuing his explanation. “We evangelicals proceed on the basis that all parts of Scripture must be in perfect agreement, which careful study will be able to bring out once the relevant facts become accessible. If we cannot see or discern agreement among the various parts, we conclude that the problem lies either in our lack of competence or our lack of factual information.”
“Oh,” Toby said with unabated skepticism. “If something seems inconsistent, it is only because I’m either stupid or I don’t have all the facts. That is an airtight excuse if ever there was one.”
“Maybe so, for those who are looking for excuses,” Rawlings continued, “but not for those who really want to understand God’s revelation, which brings me to the third principle: interpretation involves synthesizing what the various biblical passages teach, so that each item finds its proper place and significance in the organism of revelation as a whole.”
“And that means what in common English?” Toby asked his scholarly friend.
“It means that just as a physical organism is a complex unit of life, so the canons of Scripture are a complex unit of divine communication. The full significance of each part is only appreciated to the extent that we are enabled to grasp that relationship.”
Toby wasn’t buying it, but he was coming to understand Trey’s explanation.
“So what you are saying is that one must have some knowledge of the whole of Scripture before he or she can have adequate knowledge of any single part,” Sullivan said.
“Yes, exactly,” Trey said, pleased that his message seemed to be getting through. “The full significance of each passage appears only in its connection with all the rest of Scripture, which brings me to the final principle: all the biblical books were written for a purpose, and that purpose is to increase their readers’ faith, obedience and worship. Therefore, interpretation is neither complete nor correct until the passages read and synthesized have been presented to further the original purpose, and to reapply them to ourselves in the places, circumstances and conditions of our own lives today.”
“Well, I have to admit that was the most comprehensive and understandable explanation I’ve ever heard,” Toby said. “I may still be a skeptic, but at least I am a better informed skeptic. But your explanation also raises a major concern for me regarding the Christian Republic amendment. If it becomes part of the Constitution and Congress is prohibited from enacting laws that conflict with the tenets of Christianity, who is to determine whether the laws are in conflict? Who is to determine what the tenets of Christianity are? Are we to set up some kind of religious tribunal that serves the same function as the Grand Ayatollah in Iran?”
“Of course not,” Trey answered. “It would be up to the courts to decide, using their best judgment.”
“So I guess we won’t be appointing very many Jewish or Muslim judges to the courts, will we?” Tad asked.
As Trey was preparing to respond, Giordano arrived in the lobby. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I had some important calls to make.”
“That’s alright,” Toby answered. “My partner has been giving me some tips on how to interpret the Bible.”
“Well, you couldn’t have a better instructor,” Giordano answered. “He is one of the best at Biblical interpretation that I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Toby said. “I’m afraid I’m not the best of students, however. It’s kind of like having Tiger Woods explain the theory of the golf swing to me. I may know exactly what he’s saying, but all those years of hitting the ball a certain way are ingrained in me.”
“It’s never too late to change,” said Giordano, “especially when it comes to your own salvation.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” said Toby. “I hope it applies to my golf swing, too.”
Trey and Toby both laughed, but Giordano only grinned. “I guess we better head over to the convention center to see how we can help,” he said. “I imagine that Henry has arrived from Quantico by now and had time to look over the crime scene.”
The three agents walked the short distance to the convention center, talking along the way.
“Tony, weren’t you working in counterterrorism in Baltimore last time we saw each other?” Toby asked.
“Actually, I’m part of a “flying quad” whose members are sent as needed to help local offices in times of crisis.” That’s why I ran into you in Baltimore. My home is in Atlanta, and I occasionally work out of our office there on Century Boulevard, but most of the time I help manage crime scene investigations.”
“And you were here on vacation?” Toby continued making small talk.
“A short one,” Giordano said. “I came down for the St. Patrick’s Day bash. It’s the Irish genes from my mother’s side.”
“Didn’t bring your family?” asked Trey.
“My kids are in college and my wife said she had better things to do than watch a bunch of drunken kids with green hair and green makeup on their faces,” Giordano answered. “As it turned out, I’m glad they weren’t caught up in all of this mess. Praise the Lord.”
“Praise the Lord,” Rawlings responded. “And thanks that you were not hurt.”
“Or any other innocent bystanders,” Tony answered as they entered the convention center and spotted Barnes, the GBI director.
“Good morning, director. Anything new on the investigation?” Trey asked.
“I’m glad to see that somebody got some sleep last night,” said Barnes, who appeared to be wearing the same clothes as the day before. “Several items of interest to you. First, your forensics expert, Nelson, arrived from D.C. late last night and has been going over the crime scene ever since,” Barnes answered. “He says that he personally will go over every inch of the car and then have it packed in a sealed container and flown back to Quantico this afternoon.”
The GBI director took a sip from a paper cup and then continued. “The second thing I wanted to tell you is that the car was apparently stolen several nights before the explosion from a house whose owners were away on vacation. Unfortunately, they have no security cameras or other detection devices. The local police didn’t find any clues, but Nelson says he will go over the place with a fine-tooth comb just as soon as he gets the car ready for shipment.”
“I’ll lend him a hand if he needs one,” said Giordano. “We’ve worked together a lot.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate it,” said Barnes. “Also, Rawlings, I spoke with Director Drake about an hour ago. He suggested that you and Sullivan work with our folks in the canvassing of local hotels, motels, gas stations and restaurants to see if we can turn-up any new information on the bomber. As you can see from the map on the screen, we are planning to have law enforcement officials visit every hotel, motel, service station and restaurant from Brunswick and St. Simons, Georgia in the south, to Macon to the west and Hilton Head, South Carolina to the north. If anyone finds anything of interest, you’ll be told immediately so that you can conduct a follow-up investigation. The person or people who did this had to stay, eat or refuel someplace, and in all likelihood, someone saw them.”
“That’s a huge area,” Toby commented as he pointed to the map. “How long do you think the entire canvass will take?
“Best guess is about three or four days,” Barnes said. “We’re using every policeman, sheriff and state patrol officer we can spare.”
Toby suddenly had a bad feeling about the next several days. “Trey, can I see you a moment?” he motioned to his friend. “This investigation is getting more than a little frustrating. What are we supposed to do while local law enforcement officials are traveling throughout a massive area looking for a needle in a haystack? Sit around here waiting to get a call to interview some motel owner in Metter, Georgia because he’s Pakistani and could possibly have a link to al-Qaida? This is nuts.”
Trey smiled at his partner. “I know you like to operate a lot on instinct and feelings, but sometimes investigations are nothing but boring, monotonous, meticulous drudgery.”
“Oh good, I feel better already,” Sullivan said, smiling in spite of his frustration. “As long as I know that all of the boring, monotonous, meticulous drudgery has a good purpose. But think about it. What are the chances that anyone will find anything at a motel, restaurant or convenience store? In my mind, we have two lines of investigation that offer much greater likelihood of achieving results.”
“And those would be?” Trey asked.
“Well, if our theory remains that al-Qaida is responsible, we probably should talk to leaders in the Muslim community to see if they have heard any chatter or gossip. The other target of our investigation should be the vehicle in which the bomber or bombers transported the bomb. The bomb had to come from someplace, and I bet none of the checkpoints that have been set up have dogs or devices that can detect fertilizer or other bomb-making materials.”
“Actually, that does make sense,” Trey answered. “Let’s check with Drake.”
Trey contacted Margaret Peabody and asked her to connect him with the boss. In just seconds, the connection was made. Trey put his phone on conference mode so that Toby could participate, too.
“Director, Toby and I have something we want to run by you,” Trey began.
“Yes, what is it?” Drake asked in his usual blunt manner.
“Rather than interviewing motel and convenience store owners, we think our time would be better spent talking to some of the people in the Muslim communities here and elsewhere in the country and in trying to improve the roadblocks and checkpoints outside the city to make sure that every vehicle is checked for residue of bomb-making materials. We’re afraid the perpetrators might go right through the checkpoints if they don’t fit the profile we’re using.”
“I don’t know of any reason why they wouldn’t fit the profile,” said Drake. “Our own agent in New Mexico has given us the profile.”
“But he has never actually seen these terrorists, if they exist,” Toby interjected. “We have no idea what they look like. As far as we know, they could look like Eric Robert Rudolph, Timothy McVeigh or that Christian fanatic- I think his name was Murphy- who bombed the mosque in Detroit a couple of years ago.”
Drake hesitated before responding. “I think it would be a serious mistake to abandon the strategy that is based on the only solid information we have. We have an undercover agent who has inside information about an al-Qaida terrorist cell. We have evidence taken from a house near the D.C. bombings that indicates that some possible al-Qaida members were very likely there. And we had knowledge prior to the Savannah bombing yesterday that our suspects were headed down South. In my mind, that is a fairly substantial amount of evidence that we are on the right trail. And besides, it would be a huge waste of time talking to people in the Muslim community. As far as I am concerned, their God is an idol and their religion is anti-Christian. They aren’t going to be of any help.”
Trey had apparently been persuaded by Drake’s summary of the evidence. “I see your point,” he said. “Maybe the motel and restaurant search will turn up something.”
Toby was bothered, but not surprised, by Drake’s description of Islam, but took Trey’s cue not to press the issue since Drake’s mind was clearly made up.
As Trey terminated the call, Giordano joined his colleagues. “What are you two up to?” he asked.
Trey described the conversation with Drake, including Toby’s concern that the bomb transport vehicle might slip pass the roadblocks if more thorough searches were not conducted. Giordano seemed to share the concern.
“That’s a good point,” he said. “I’ll talk to John Schroeder, the southeast region director, and have him ask Drake to authorize some additional men and resources to use at the main roadblocks. “Then, after giving Nelson a hand with the forensics work, I’ll drive up to Atlanta to pick up some clean clothes”
“But I thought you were going to help us with the hotel, restaurant and convenience store interviews,” Trey said.
“I can’t go around interviewing people in these kind of clothes,” Giordano explained as he pointed to his khaki pants and golf shirt. “And besides, there are a few things I need from the office. It isn’t that long of a drive, and if I leave soon, I’ll be back late tonight and join you in the morning.”
“I can’t believe you’re not sticking around for all of the fun,” Toby said, “but it is definitely more important to beef up the roadblocks. Getting that done would be a much better use of your time.”
“I think so, too,” Giordano said. “Without the bomb sniffing dogs and equipment, the bombers could slip through the roadblocks.”