A short time later, Justin's escort arrived with him at 26 Federal Plaza and pulled into the ground-level parking level. At exactly 12:00 noon, they delivered Justin to Special Agent Regan's interview room, just as the scheduled press conference began about 30 blocks away. She greeted Knight and urged him to sit down and give her a moment. Then she stepped out into the hall.

“Thanks for the report and for getting him here safely. Do you have any word about the ambulance?” she asked the lead officer.

“It's not really an ambulance. It's just a van they stole from a courier service in Poughkeepsie and put a fake light rack on top. The company didn't even notice it missing,” he said.

“I don't suppose you found any fingerprints?”

“Lots, but someone wiped the steering wheel and door handles clean. They probably wore gloves. We found other prints around the vehicle, probably left by uninvolved employees of the courier service. Also, we found this,” he said, handing her a small item.

“A GPS device?”

“We found it under the rear fender.”

“Figures. Anything more about the young couple?”

“Nothing”

She nodded and went back inside the conference room.

“Feeling better?”

“It took you long enough to get me out of there,” Justin grumbled.

“Well, this should cheer you up. I have good news for you. We received word that your daughter and her tutor are safe.”

“What!?!?” he cried, sitting forward quickly. He immediately regretted it because the bruise on his chest didn't like it went he moved that fast. The news was worth the pain, however.

“Yes,” she said, taking a seat. “I wish we could take credit for their rescue, but we can't. An organization known as the Agorist Underground rescued them. Have you ever heard of them?” she asked politely.

Justin hesitated. Lizzie asked him to promise not to discuss this subject. Still, he made that promise before she and his daughter went missing. If these Agorists rescued them, and if the FBI already knew about it...maybe he should acknowledge some of what he knew.

“Ms. Kohn mentioned them.”

“A representative of the AU plans to visit this office in about three hours. They told us that they carried out the rescue soon after the abduction last night. We pieced together some of what happened, but we don't have the whole story yet.”

“However,” she continued, “that's not what you and I need to talk about. The AU want you to attend that meeting, a condition to which we agreed. I presume you have no objections?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. I believe that they plan to offer you asylum in their organization. They will suggest that they can keep you safer than we can. It's not true, of course. They don't have our resources, and we can hide you much more easily than they could for as long as needed. Still, I would like to know in advance how you plan to answer them, should they make such an offer.”

Justin realized that by saying all this she tacitly admitted to not objecting to the transfer, an extraordinary fact by itself.

“I take it you want me to accept their offer?”

“Not necessarily. It really depends upon what role you want us to play. Officially, we cannot charge your bank's security team with your daughter's kidnapping, although not for lack of proof. Actually, they ran an amateurish operation, and I think we could make a good case in court. But the President told my boss that we won't take such action, with the implication that even if we did he would simply pardon anyone involved at the bank's end.”

“Your boss?”

“The FBI Director.”

He again sat back for a moment to consider what she said. He couldn't get over how extraordinary a course this conversation had taken so far.

“Let me see if I have this straight,” he said slowly. “Someone kidnapped my daughter, and you know who did it, but you will not arrest them because the President of the United States said not to. You helped rescue her, but immediately afterward allowed the known perpetrators to kidnap her again as well as her tutor, while they simultaneously took a shot at me, trying to kill me. They failed, not because of anything you did, but rather because my daughter's tutor apparently understands my enemy and the risks to me better than you do. She asked me to wear a bulletproof vest, which saved my life.”

“We understood the threat to you.”

“Yet they managed to assault me anyway, no thanks to you. Along comes a ragtag underground movement who apparently provided the vest that saved my life. After my daughter's second kidnapping, along with that of her tutor, this revolutionary band managed to free them both shortly after the kidnapping, while your crew still tried to figure out what happened. They will offer me protection, and you do not necessarily want me to accept their offer. You want to provide protection instead, but you're not pressing the matter. Given all these facts,” Justin asked, “why do you believe I would choose your protection over theirs?”

“We're the United States government, and they're not.”

“Yes–a government which refuses to prosecute my daughter's kidnappers, even though they can identify them and know where to find them. So why on earth do you want to know in advance whether I would accept the AU's offer? Why not just wait until they make the offer and see what I say?”

“Because officially we don't want you to accept their offer, but unofficially we want you to accept it.”

He digested her answer for a moment and asked again “Why?”

Regan shifted a moment in her seat. “This is off the record. You must never repeat this publicly, and if you do we'll deny it and do our best to discredit you. As you know, we want to establish a secret relationship with the AU, as a way to offset the growing influence of the private corporate intelligence outfits such as your bank's security team. We have now reached a juncture where the AU, we believe, plans to offer you their protection. We believe that in return for that protection they will ask you to become a spokesman for them.”

“A spokesman? Why?”

“Consider the reason given for your daughter's first kidnapping. Your bank wanted their video back, they said. In fact, the video never belonged to them in the first place. You haven't confirmed this, and neither did Ms. Kohn, but we believe that an AU operative made that video. This unnamed person managed to get a secret video camera into a high level financial policy meeting undetected. Describe to me, Mr. Knight, as a banking expert, the possible ramifications if that video reaches the public.”

“Well, it would cause a lot of consternation and disruption on Wall Street. Bank stocks would suffer even more drastically than they already have, and indeed it would probably affect stocks in all other industries as well. It would also undermine public confidence in our banking and monetary system, possibly even leading to the system's collapse.”

“It would do more than that, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it raise the question as to why the President of the United States refused to permit prosecution of officers of the biggest bank in the world for engaging in a conspiracy to prevent the video from being made public?”

“True. It would create a political mess.”

“More than that, it would create a huge crisis of confidence in our government. The President himself might be impeached for such an act.”

Justin nodded his agreement.

“So,” Regan continued, “obviously the AU, which commits itself to monetary change, would want that video made public and will do whatever they can to accomplish it. However, they also want to provide other evidence to help people understand the nature of what we see in that video. Who could provide a better understanding and make the video more convincing than to have it presented and introduced by the Vice-President of Operations at Hanover-Rush?”

Of course, Justin realized. It all makes sense.

“But why does the FBI secretly want me to join the AU? Does not the FBI want to protect the government from such an embarrassment?”

“Officially, yes, and I will count on you to keep our involvement in this quiet. Unofficially, we want that video released to the public. We cannot release it ourselves, because the political fallout would likely come flying back in our faces. The President must believe we continue to do his bidding. However, we want that video released as a way to hold the President accountable for his actions, unconstitutional actions that abused his power.”

“And what does the FBI Director say about all this?”

“Officially, he doesn't know about it.”

“And unofficially?”

“Unofficially, he can't know about it or raise any allegations. The potential political consequences...Like it or not, the FBI operates as a political organization in this instance. We serve to protect the people and enforce the law, yet in this case the political leader of our country ordered us not to do our duty. If we refuse to follow his order, our inaction constitutes insubordination. If we follow his order, we violate our oaths of office. This situation makes us inherently political, much to our consternation,” she answered him.

“So you want to put your neck, and your career, on the line to make sure that I join the AU?”

“We need the public to learn the contents of that video.”

“Absurd!” Justin declared. Regan didn't react to that, even though she agreed about the absurdity of the situation. Unfortunately, she could see no better option.

“I should also tell you that I turned the video disk over to Nevio Roone earlier this morning.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because the President ordered us to do it. He ordered us to recover that video for the bank, and we did it. Of course, I don't believe for a minute it's the only copy left in existence. I can't believe that both Roone and your uncle overlooked that possibility. That part troubles me. They haven't made any real effort to capture and destroy all copies of the video. I don't know why.”

“Give me your best guess then.”

“Well, Roone is an incompetent, dimwitted and angry man, and he’s in charge of the security team.”

“I know him. I also know that my uncle has no military training at all. He quite possibly has not thought of the potential for copies to exist.”

Regan shook her head with a wry smile. “If true, maybe Roone did think of it, but he hasn't mentioned it to his boss. After all, he must be in deep trouble already about the botched kidnappings and shooting. He probably does not want to make his position weaker.”

“Did you make a copy of it?”

Regan didn't answer but just stared back at him. Justin shook his head ruefully with a small smile.

“Sorry, I asked a stupid question.”

“So,” Regan said, ignoring the gaffe, “how will you respond if the AU offers you asylum?”

Justin paused once more to think.

“I do not know.”

“Well, you have less than three hours to decide before their representative arrives. We can make you comfortable until then. Do you need anything?”

“Yes. I need to contact my attorney.”

“Feel free to use our phone if you like,” indicating the phone on the conference table.

“Will your people listen in?”

“No, but I can make arrangements to let you use your cell phone instead, if you wish. I should point out that we can just as easily listen to your cell as we can this phone.”

Justin saw her point. He picked up the receiver from the phone on the table.

She arose and said, “I'll leave you so you can make your call privately.”

“Thank you,” said Justin, who started dialing while she pulled the door closed behind her as she left the room.

Presently he heard his attorney, Tom Robinson at the other end of the line.

“Hi Tom, Justin Knight here.”

“Justin, I've been trying to reach you! Where the heck are you?”

“I'm in NY at the office of the FBI in Federal Plaza.”

“Thank God! The newscasters reported someone shot you on the street in lower Manhattan, and a rumor says someone kidnapped Michaela and Ms. Kohn after the shooting. I tried both the police and the FBI, but no one wants to confirm anything for me.”

“I can confirm both stories, Tom, but I'm okay, and I just received word confirming the rescue of Michaela and Ms. Kohn.”

“My God! But if someone shot you, why aren't you in a hospital?”

“They kept me overnight, but just for observation. I wore a bulletproof vest at the time of the shooting, and it saved my life. Ms. Kohn suggested that I order one by special courier last night. It arrived at the house shortly before you did. I wore it when we went left with Special Agent Regan,” he said, and he proceeded to fill Tom in about the rest of the events of the preceding evening after Tom left the house.

Tom sounded flabbergasted by the series of events, and when Justin got to the part where the FBI wanted him to meet with representatives of the AU about joining them and possibly becoming a spokesman for them, he went ballistic.

“You can't do it, Justin! First of all, it will ruin your banking career. Second, how can you possibly join an underground movement? You can't revert to your youth and join a commune. Next thing I know, you'll plan to knock off a convenience store!”

“Calm down, Tom. You know I would not do anything like that. Nor do I want to join an underground movement...at least not yet. I do not like the idea of being their spokesman, either. On the other hand, the revelations contained in that video change everything for me. I used to think I worked to help build a solid financial system for America. Now I know that I participated in and supported a systematic looting of the American people. I never intended to do that, but I cannot ignore the evidence before my eyes.”

“But you didn't loot anything, Justin! We know that.”

“Tom, I believed my colleagues, coworkers, and fellow bankers who assured me that the failures and weaknesses in our financial system came from unavoidable and necessary side-effects of dealing with paper money. They assured me no one wanted to take advantage of the situation for their own profit to the detriment of everyone else. They assured me our central bankers work tirelessly to ensure that structural financial problems like the ones plaguing our economy today never happen. No one ever, ever told me that today's financial problems could be avoided, that we knew they must come eventually. Before now, no one admitted we hoped to profit from such a situation.”

“But they still haven’t!”

“Yes they have. The video showed my own uncle telling the chairman of the Fed that they anticipated this entire scenario, that they knew for years it must happen. My uncle planned to profit from it all along!”

“But is profit wrong? You must see reason, Justin! Profit drives our economy!”

“Not profits collected by cheating people, by deceiving them. Besides, they murdered my wife, Tom! Do you understand that? They murdered my wife to keep her quiet about some wire transfer, something that might have to do with financing terrorism!”

“You don't know that! Ms. Kohn may have made up that story, for all you know! She already admitted they planted her in your home. How do you know she didn't just make up that part of her story!”

“You did not watch her while she told me the story. I have no doubt she told me the truth as she knows it. I also saw a copy of the wire transfer. I recognized our bank's internal form for wire transfers. I bet the bank's records would confirm her story, provided security has not removed them already.”

“Amanda died in a car crash. The police reported it as an accident!”

“You forget, Tom, I had to identify her body,” Justin yelled at him. “I saw her remains. Something most definitely smashed her head. I almost threw up when I saw it. From what I remember, they could easily have overlooked a bullet in her brain, for all the damage the crash caused her head. My God, Tom, her head and face looked like they went through a meat grinder!”

Justin worked himself into a near frenzy as he described what he saw to his attorney. The horror of that day flooded over him. Tears poured from his eyes as he recounted the tale.

“Justin, you're upset. I completely understand, but you must also understand that the evidence is completely circumstantial. We have no 'smoking gun' here, just Ms. Kohn's claim that someone used a gun. None of the hard evidence we have substantiates her claim!”

“I know that, Tom, but what other evidence can we expect besides circumstantial evidence? We could never find the gun, even if we exhume the body to see if a bullet can be found lodged in her skull. Besides, I recognize the pattern, familiar to any student of financial history. You know the story of the Rothschilds, right?”

“The historic European banking family? What do they have to do with it?”

“Yes, the banking family. They made their fortune by investing in warfare, often investing with both sides of a conflict. For instance, the Rothschilds financed Napoleon by helping to finance his supply lines as he prosecuted his efforts in Russia. Then, because he stood in the way of their continued opportunities to profit, they financed his opposition, led by the Duke of Wellington, who defeated Napoleon at Waterloo. The Rothschilds famously financed both sides of many military conflicts, knowing exactly how profitable...”

“But that happened nearly 200 years ago, Justin!”

“Yes, but the tradition of bankers financing war and forcing countries into supporting those wars continued long afterward. In our own country, America became involved in World War I only because J.R. Hanover, my revered ancestor, financed the Entente Powers, Britain, France, and Russia. When the war started to go against them, due mainly to the success of the German U-Boats, Hanover urged the President to go to war to protect those investments.”

He continued, “Hanover financed the Russian Revolution. He provided financial backing to both Lenin and Kerensky, Lenin's socialist rival. Once again, a banker, this time my own ancestor, backed more than one side in a conflict. I have been very uncomfortable most of my life knowing how many Americans and Russians died to protect his investments. My peers convinced me that no one could avoid it, that they did the patriotic thing at that time. Nevertheless, no one doubts that bankers continued to make huge profits from all the wars the U.S. engaged in right up until today. We have made a ton of money supporting the country's War on Terror. Cannot some bankers profit by working the other side of the fence as well?”

“You don't even know whether that really happened in this case! The only clue you have comes from a code on a wire transfer that includes an acronym which matches Osama Bin Laden's initials. Nothing else! Have you forgotten how angry Americans become whenever anyone even hints that America might have had something to do with 9/11?” Tom implored him.

“It makes me angry too!” Justin yelled into the phone. “You think it does not?”

“People won't see it that way! They'll blame you for blaming America for the attacks of 9/11!” Tom argued, trying to get Justin to see reason.

Justin didn't know what to say to that.

“Justin, you're one of America's leading bankers. If such a thing was going on inside Hanover-Rush, you'd know about it.”

“Not necessarily, Tom. An awful lot of transactions happen at a bank like Hanover-Rush every day, let alone every year. Even I never see more than a tiny fraction of them all. Who knows how many of those transactions we might find if we look deeply enough in the bank's records? Mayer Amschel Rothschild famously said, 'Let me issue and control a nation's money and I care not who writes the laws.' He knew that the major power lay in the money, not as much in the politics.”

“That's not the way most people will see it! They'll think that you should have known, that you had a patriotic duty to know. They won't be impressed by your claims of ignorance. I'm sorry, Justin, but I still say the entire case is circumstantial, and it's potentially dynamite that could easily blow up in your face. You have no really hard evidence. They would call you a conspiracy theorist.”

“I know one very hard fact. When I tried to call my uncle to ask him why the bank kidnapped my daughter, he refused to take my call. He refused to talk to me, his own nephew! Is that hard enough evidence for you?”

“Okay, so he didn't take your call. That does not prove he financed Osama Bin Laden! It certainly doesn't prove the involvement of John Holloway either. You have no proof at all that a connection exists between your uncle and your client,” Tom declared in disgust. “In fact, your uncle's attorney could argue that you make a better candidate for any connection between Holloway and Hanover-Rush!”

That made Justin stop to think. “I see your point, but the evidence does prove my uncle knew about the kidnapping, Tom! Even if we have little clear evidence about Bin Laden, one fact remains crystal clear. My uncle willingly kidnapped his great niece and threatened me in order to keep that video from reaching the public. Even if you doubt its importance, we can have no doubt that he thought it important!”

Tom couldn't disagree. Regardless of what the whole series of events really meant, David Knight's actions made clear that he took the whole thing very, very seriously. He brazenly broke the law in order to get his hands on a video which, legally, didn't belong to him. Worse, he managed to wrangle the President of the United States into protecting him as he orchestrated the crime. Whatever David's real purpose might be, Tom couldn't deny the gravity of his actions.

“Be that as it may, I still think you would make a big mistake by becoming a spokesman for an underground movement that wants to bring modern banking to its knees. The country would see you as a traitor in your own industry, Justin. It would end your career!”

“I do not really care about my career anymore, Tom. I can think of no way I could go back to work for Hanover-Rush, knowing what I know now. I could not live with myself if I did that. Speaking of which, what progress have you made moving my accounts away from the bank?”

“Well, I've made a good start. I've used my power of attorney to get some of your funds transferred to your accounts outside the country. However, I think someone at Hanover-Rush got wind of my actions. Some of your accounts now have freezes in place. They demanded that I provide written proof that I'm acting on your orders, as if a written power of attorney isn't enough! I protested that the power of attorney you granted me affords me that right, but they balked, claiming they just want to protect your financial interests. I think we will probably have to file a lawsuit against them before we can get them to budge.”

“So do it.”

“I have the wheels turning, including drafting a new power of attorney for you to sign. However, I must tell you about another turn of events. Your uncle tried to reach you. He wants to talk with you.”

My uncle wants to talk with me? What about? Justin's eyes narrowed as he considered this news.

“He must know I got shot last night. How did he make the request?”

“I found out when I contacted your house. Your butler answered the phone, and I identified myself. I asked where I could reach you. He told me you and Ms. Kohn set off to Manhattan in the company of the FBI agent late last night after I left the house. He also told me about your uncle's call.”

“When did he call?”

“Sometime last evening. I guess he called before they shot you. I suppose he ordered the assassination then, if indeed he ordered it at all. I still haven't ruled out the possibility that the AU might have attacked you!”

“Oh, come on, Tom! I concede that we do not know for sure who took a pot shot at me, but we know that the bank already had it in for me. They kidnapped my daughter and threatened me. Surely that ranks them as the top suspects on our list!”

“Your uncle's call may be the way to find out. If he wanted to talk with you last night, he probably will still accept a call from you today. Get him talking, and maybe he might admit his involvement.”

Justin considered this. Would his uncle still talk to him? He just might.

“Tom, I wonder if we should try to return his call and make a recording of what he says?”

“It you want to gather evidence to prove in court that your uncle tried to have you killed, I'd recommend against it without a court order. Any judge in the world would throw it out and not allow it to be introduced as evidence without such an order.”

“So let us get a court order.”

“Can't do it. To get such an order, we'd have to file a charge against your uncle first, and he'd have the opportunity to reply. It's far too early for that step, and I don't want to give them the opportunity to further cover up their actions. We can't force them to give us what we want immediately. After all, we're not the government.”

“What if I can get the FBI to get the court order and record the conversation for us?”

“How do you plan do to that?”

“I am calling you right now from FBI offices in Federal Plaza in New York City. Special Agent Regan hinted that she wants me to go with the AU. Perhaps she will do us a favor in this case.”

The idea appealed to Tom, but he responded cautiously because of the dangers he noted earlier. The two discussed the possible ways such a conversation could go. Justin promised to let his uncle do most of the talking, while attempting only to provoke him into making important admissions.

After Justin hung up, he wandered out of the conference room into the hall and asked for Regan. Once he found her, he pitched the idea to her.

“So, we want the FBI to get a court order and tape the conversation between my uncle and me. Will you help us?”

It intrigued Regan. Justin's uncle probably wouldn't say anything useful, but you never knew what might come out. If he did say anything useful, it could give the Director leverage with the President.

“Why not? Of course, you must agree not to mention the FBI.”

“Fine, just as long as my attorney and I can get a copy of the recording.”

“I'll contact Judge Morrow. He signs most of our Patriot Act warrants. He'll probably agree to it,” and she went off to make a call.

Justin picked up the phone again and made another call, this time to his assistant.

He heard a man's voice say, “Jack Reese.”

“Jack, Justin Knight here.”

“Justin! What the hell is going on? Are you all right? First we saw on the news that someone shot you. Then, your uncle came to my office this morning and told me he fired you and that I'm the new VP of Operations. What in the world is going on?” he whispered frantically into the phone.

The news rendered Justin speechless for a moment. “My uncle fired me?”

“You mean he hasn't even called you?” Jack whispered, bewildered.

“I got a message from him just a few minutes ago, relayed through my attorney. I plan to call him after I talk with you. Did he say why he fired me?”

“'Gross insubordination. I couldn't believe it, especially a blood relative,” Jack whispered again.

“Why are you whispering, Jack?”

“Because your uncle said that no one should talk directly with you! I don't want anyone to overhear me.”

“He said that?”

“I know, it sounds crazy. I couldn't believe it when he told me. What's this all about, Justin?”

“I...I cannot tell you the whole story, not yet anyway. You will hear the whole thing soon enough. Jack, I need you to do me a favor, a really big favor.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to look up a wire transfer for me, an old one from 2002,” Justin said. “I do not have the transfer number, but I can give you something to look up in the description field. I would do it myself, but I suspect my uncle already cut off my computer access.”

“Sure, whatcha got?”

“Just do a general search and enter 'OBL-AQ' to see what shows up in the results. Whatever you do, don't click on any of the results! I just want to find out if anything shows up.

Jack entered the search term and waited a moment.

“Wow, this is really weird,” he said.

“What do you mean? Did you find something?”

“Yeah, I got a whole page full of results. The weird part is that every one of them is flashing, and there's a security flag next to each one of them, all dated between 2000 and 2002. Wait a minute...they all just disappeared!”

“What do you mean, they just disappeared?”

“I mean the screen went blank. The only two options I have are two buttons to click which say 'Cancel' and 'Continue'.”

“Hit Cancel, quickly!”

“Okay, I did.”

“Whatever you do, never do that search again, Jack! You hear me? If you do, your life might be in danger. I am sorry I even asked you to do it now. Just do not do that search ever again! Promise me!”

“Okay, okay, I won't. My God, Justin, what's this all about?”

“You just confirmed for me that they murdered my wife,” Justin said as he hung up.

“Murdered? What? You mean Amanda? But that was...what...seven, eight years ago? I thought she died in a car crash....Justin?....Hello?....Are you there?” Jack said to a silent phone. He hung up once he realized Justin had already disconnected.

Justin sat after hanging up the phone, thinking furiously.

Just then, Regan came back into the room and said, “We'll have the warrant in about five minutes...What's wrong?”

Justin hesitated, not sure what to tell her. Then he asked, “Can we add another name to that warrant?”

Regan frowned and said, “Who do you want to add?”

“John Holloway.”

“John Holloway? From Holloway Industries?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Forget what? Talk to me, Mr. Knight. If this has anything to do with Hanover-Rush, I need to know what it is.”

Justin put his hands to his forehead and tried to think. Lizzie warned him not to say anything to the FBI about his wife's story or about the wire transfer. In fact, they agreed to tell Regan as little as possible, but now he had proof, real proof! On the other hand, his attorney begged him not to say anything about a terrorist connection. The risks...the implications...could they confirm it? He could think of only one way to find out.

He wanted to get John Holloway on tape admitting that he knew about OBL-AQ. He knew that if he could utter those cryptic letters to John, he would recognize them, and he'd probably react somehow. How much should he confide to Regan? He decided to tell her as little as possible. Maybe he could tell her just enough to get her to go along with his request.

“I cannot tell you everything because it would endanger me and my family, but I will tell you some of what I know.”

He invited her with his hand to sit down across the table from him. She sat wordlessly, her attention fixed firmly on him.

“Eight years ago,” he began, “my wife died in an auto accident on the Long Island Expressway on her way home from work. Like me, she worked at Hanover-Rush. Up until very recently, I had no reason to question the accident as reported. However, I now have reason to believe that someone murdered my wife that day.”

“Murdered?” Regan said, opening her eyes wide in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I dare not tell you just yet. The evidence that came to me convinced me, but I did not have any confirmation. The evidence came in the form of eyewitness testimony, someone who saw the murder and the car crash as it happened.”

Regan's eyes bulged, and her brain raced. She had a theory about who Justin might mean. If correct, her theory explained a lot.

“Just now, I called a friend at the bank, someone who works with me. He told me that my uncle fired me for gross insubordination. I believe my uncle called and left the message so he could tell me to my face.”

“What does this have to do with your wife and Holloway?”

“I received a copy of a wire transfer that my wife processed shortly before she died, a wire transfer sent on behalf of Holloway to some company in Pakistan, for $50 million. The description of the transfer only said 'OBL-AQ-22' and nothing else. Just now, as I said, I called a friend at the bank. While I spoke with him, I had him do a search in the bank's database for any wire transfers that contained the phrase “OBL-AQ' in the description. He said he got a whole page of results. They all flashed at him, marked with security flags, and then the whole page went blank.”

“What's OBL-AQ–some kind of banking code?”

“No, but it might just be an acronym. It might possibly be short for Osama Bin Laden – Al-Qaeda.”

Regan didn't react nearly as surprised as Justin expected. In fact, she acted almost nonplussed. She's not surprised. Why on earth is she not surprised?

Now Regan did some furious thinking, trying not to show any reaction to Justin. The Director, who gave her the brief when she took charge of this case, had speculated in it that this case might have more to it than an embarrassing video. It outlined the possibility of a potential connection to terrorism. The brief didn't specify anything, only speculation. Still....

“Why would John Holloway want to accept a call from you?”

“Because I helped him launch his company's initial public stock offering. We have an extensive business background together.”

Again, it tallied with the brief she read.

“I need to know the details about how your wife died.”

“No, I cannot. I dare not. Maybe later, but not now.”

She picked up the phone and dialed three digits.

“Johnson? Regan here. That wiretap. We need to add John Holloway to it...Yes, right, of Holloway Inc. ASAP...Thanks,” she added, hanging up. “We should have it in about ten minutes. What else can you tell me?”

Justin shook his head and stayed silent. Ten minutes seemed like ten hours, but the phone finally rang.

“Regan…Right. Thanks.”

She hung up and said, “We added his name to the warrant. You want to make the call now?”

He reached for the phone, but she grabbed it first and dialed another three digit code. “Regan…Start recording on this line immediately. Don't stop until I tell you to...Okay, thanks.”

She hung up and picked the receiver up again, handing it to Justin. He took it and dialed the number from memory while she picked up a small ear piece next to the phone and held it to her ear.

“Holloway Industries,” said a female voice.

“Janet, Justin Knight here. I need John right away.”

“Yes, Mr. Knight. Please hold.” The line went quiet. A moment later, she came back on the line and said hesitantly, “I'm sorry Mr. Knight, but Mr. Holloway isn't available right now. That is to say...he's...in a meeting. May I take a message?”

“No! I need to speak to him right now. Just tell him 'OBL-AQ'. That should make sense to him.”

“Please hold,” Janet said, and the line went quiet again. A moment later, he heard a familiar male voice.

“What do you want, Justin?” he heard John Holloway say.

“What? No greeting for an old friend?”

“I'm a busy man, Justin, as you know.”

“Well, I am glad you have so much concern about my health, considering I got shot last night.”

“Yes, of course, I did hear about that. Sorry, Justin. I hope you are okay.”

“I feel quite well today, all things considered.”

“What do you want?”

“OBL-AQ.”

“Yes, Janet mentioned something about that. What's this all about?” Holloway sounded suspicious and guarded to Justin.

“Why did Holloway Industries send money to Osama Bin Laden?”

He heard a distinct gasp at the other end, then silence, followed by, “We aren't! It's...complicated. There's a lot you don't understand.”

“Enlighten me then,” Justin said, anger creeping into his voice.

“We should meet. For dinner. Or perhaps you'd like to come here and we can meet...somewhere near my office?”

“I want you to tell me now!”

“Justin, please! This is an open phone line. I can't say anything more.”

“My wife got killed over your little game! Someone tried to kill me last night, and they kidnapped my daughter! If this has something to do with Bin Laden, you better damn well tell me what!”

“What? Your wife? Wait a minute...your wife died, didn't she? Some years ago. Something about a car crash, wasn't it?”

“A car crash that I now know was murder! It happened the same day she looked up one of your wire transfers she processed for you in 2002, for fifty million dollars. It terrified her into leaving work early that day. Two hours later, an eyewitness saw her get her brains blown out at 60 miles an hour on a highway!” Justin roared.

“My God! My God! Justin, I had no idea. You've got to believe me!” Holloway pleaded in a flustered voice. “Listen, let's meet. I'll answer your questions, I'll tell you what I can, but I don't dare say anything more over the phone! How about we meet someplace? You name the spot–some place quiet.”

“Meet you?” Justin said as he noticed Regan shaking her head no, gesturing wildly with her free hand, trying to get his attention. “I...I cannot. My life is in danger. There is no place safe enough. Wait a minute, hold on,” he said as she put the ear piece down and frantically wrote something on a yellow legal pad lying on the conference table. It said, tell him you'll find a safe place to meet. You'll call him right back.

“Okay, listen John! I think I have an idea how we can meet, but I have to try to arrange it. Give me a little time, and I will call you as soon as I get it worked out.” He turned to Regan, who nodded her approval.

“Okay, good,” Holloway said with obvious relief. “Just keep it quiet.”

Justin agreed and hung up, looking questioningly at Regan.

“We need to control that meeting,” she said. “We need to have you wear a wire so we can record it. The question of where to have the meeting comes down to one thing: have you decided whether you plan to accept the AU's offer of asylum, if they give it?”

“You think we can get a wire past the AU?”

“No, we will tell them about it, but if you plan to accept their offer, then we need to plan on having the AU set up and run the meeting, rather than the FBI. Remember how I told you and Ms. Kohn that the FBI wants to establish a liaison of some kind with the AU? This creates a perfect opportunity to make that happen.”

At 2:55 p.m., a cab pulled up to the entrance at 26 Federal Plaza, and a large man flashing a gold tooth emerged and walked inside. An hour to travel from the trading floor of the AU to Federal Plaza seemed excessive to some people, but it didn't bother AJ. He expected it. After being taken via closed van from the underground garage to Grand Central Station, he emerged and easily found an available cab, which took him downtown.

He took the elevator up and exited at the 23^rd floor, where he announced himself at the front desk. Within minutes he found himself facing Special Agent Regan and Justin Knight. “How do you do, Mr. Knight,” he said politely, offering his huge hand, which Justin shook cautiously. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Special Agent Regan,” he added as he gently shook her hand also. They sat down.

“I assume Special Agent Regan told you why I'm here, Mr. Knight?”

“Yes, she said you wanted to meet me with her in the room.”

“I see, so she didn't tell you? Well, no matter. I know that Lizzie gave you a good overview of the AU and TST. As I'm sure you know by now, we successfully rescued your daughter and Lizzie from their kidnappers within hours of the event last night. They are now safe and protected.”

“When can I see them?” Justin asked.

“Anytime you like, although I wouldn't recommend a street-level reunion, for your own protection. We think it would be safest for both you and them if you reunited under our protection.”

“Your protection,” Justin said with tinge of suspicion in his voice.

“Yes, that's right. Well, not mine personally, you understand. I'm just the messenger here. I'm talking about AU protection, of course, specifically to be provided by TST, also known as The Security Team. They rescued Lizzie and your daughter, and they provide a great deal of security and support for AU activities.”

“More than that,” AJ continued, “Certain persons within the AU asked me to make you an offer to you. Our people originally planned to wait until we reunited you with your daughter, and indeed a minority still believe we should do that. However, the leadership decided we should make the offer now so you don't feel pressured to accept while under AU protection. Regardless of what you decide, we'll help set up your reunion with your daughter and Lizzie.”

“Special Agent Regan thinks you plan to offer me asylum,” Justin said cautiously.

“Yes, I suppose you could describe it that way,” AJ replied calmly with a nod to Regan, “although I think I prefer to call it alternative protection, since the FBI are well known to have exemplary witness protection options. With all due respect to Special Agent Regan here, we believe that we provide the better option in this case because, well, frankly, the FBI has a conflicting interest in this affair. On the one hand, they bear responsibility to uphold the law. On the other, the White House apparently ordered them not to.

“As you may know, the AU exists to promote marketplace-based change to society. One of our main targets is your industry, banking. We have long championed hard money and opposed fiat currency. We also oppose certain practices common in the industry. I believe you read Lizzie's doctoral thesis on the subject. The AU largely agrees with what she wrote.”

Justin interrupted, “What does all this have to do with me?”

“Sorry,” AJ said, “I sometimes get carried away. One of the ways the AU attempts to achieve its goals is to infiltrate the financial industry, watching for people within it who might share similar views to us. We need people within the industry of your stature to speak for us, to present our case, since our position sounds better coming from an insider. You have been through some very difficult times due, in no small part, to the bank which currently employs you, so the time may be ripe to approach you.”

“Actually, I believe they plan to fire me.”

“Really!?” AJ said, caught by surprise.

“Let me cut to the bottom line. I will not only consider your offer, but I think I can significantly enhance my desirability to you.”

AJ's eyes widened as he asked, “How so?”

Justin turned to Regan, who spoke up next. “Officially, the FBI also offers protection to Mr. Knight, and we urge him to choose our offer over yours. Unofficially, and strictly off the record, we prefer that he accept your offer instead. In addition, we propose a sharing of information, sort of a pooling of resources.”

AJ became even more intrigued. “Go on.”

“We want to help Mr. Knight record conversations with certain people, conversations which you might find quite interesting and useful. I refer to David Knight and John Holloway,” Regan said.

“Of Holloway Industries?” AJ repeated, clearly surprised.

“Yes, exactly.” She and Justin then told AJ the story of the secret warrant and the recording they made of Justin's call to Holloway.

AJ's excitement increased, but he remained deeply suspicious as he said, “Why does the FBI want to help the AU?”

Regan answered. “We have an interest in this information coming out, although as you pointed out the President made our position difficult. So we can't release the information ourselves.”

“But you'd let us use that information? You'd let us release it?”

“Yes, provided that you don't attribute it to us.”

“Why do you want to do this?”

“Corporate security. Corporations like Hanover-Rush have entered the intelligence community with their own operations, just as the AU has done. The President pays much more attention now to corporate intelligence, giving them a lot more credence than in the past, often to the detriment of FBI intelligence evaluations. The FBI needs to regain some lost influence. So, for now, we want to work with you.”

“The President is nearing the end of his second term. Change is in the air. Why not just wait for the next administration to take office and see where you stand?”

“It's not just the current President. I just described a long-term problem that has grown over time,” Regan explained. “We can't afford to wait.”

“Your offer will intrigue my friends. As I said, I'm only the messenger. I have limited parameters for operation at this meeting. I can't officially accept your offer, although I believe my friends will receive it very favorably.”

He turned back to Justin and said, “For this meeting, I can only offer you AU protection. I need your answer now. Will you accept our protection?”

Regan spoke up, “It's too early for that. We should work out the details of our temporary alliance before Mr. Knight goes with you.”

Justin interrupted her, “We cannot wait. John Holloway expects me to get back to him right away. I know him, and I know how he will react. I do not dare keep him waiting too long. He might try to back out of the meeting if we make him wait. It has to take place today.”

Regan said, “Then I will come with you.”

AJ stared at her. “My arrangements don't cover two people. I'm prepared to take Mr. Knight from here in secret, and no one else.”

“How do you plan to take him? By cab, like you arrived here? By car? Come now, AJ, I'll know soon enough,” Regan challenged him.

“It's an unmarked van.”

“I will hazard a guess it does not have any windows.”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Well, then, what harm exists in bringing me too? I won't be able to see anything.”

“With all due respect, you're FBI. You have any number of ways you could attempt to find out where we go. You might carry a wire or a bug yourself, perhaps a GPS tracker. You might have the van followed.”

“I can promise you that I won't bring anything like that without telling you first. In any case, I'm sure your security people will check me over quite thoroughly. Also, I cannot believe you would attempt such a transport without having a contingency for someone following you.”

AJ paused and grimaced. “Why do you want to come so badly?”

“Because I can protect FBI interests while also insuring that you will protect Mr. Knight adequately. Also, I want to meet your leaders.”

“You won't meet our leaders, at least not the top leadership. The most I can arrange, if at all, is for you to meet the person who coordinates this operation. She's the one I report to.”

“That'll do for now.”

AJ turned to Justin, who nodded his agreement.

“May I use your phone?” AJ asked Regan.

“Go right ahead.”

“Don't bother having it traced,” he noted as he picked up the receiver. “I'm calling a pay phone.”

Regan smiled and nodded but said nothing.

He dialed a number and after a moment he said, “Change in plans. Special Agent Regan will join us. Notify Janice, and arrange a security transfer....Good, that'll do. Also, we need to set up a safe, recorded meeting for Mr. Knight with one of his business associates for this evening– somewhere in Manhattan?” he asked looking at Justin, who nodded his agreement.

After another moment, AJ hung up.

“The van will be outside in five minutes.”

“I need time to arrange a wire for Mr. Knight to wear to his meeting,” Regan pointed out.

“Forget it,” AJ said. “We can supply one. Shall we go?”

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