Strike at the Giant Chapters 1 + 2

8/8/2019 Strike at the Giant Chapters 1 + 2

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Strike At The Giant


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Strike At The Giant

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Dover and Blackstone Media L.L.C.Pittsburgh, PA USA


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Strike At The Giant

All Rights Reserved 2009 by James K.Harrington

No part of this book may be reproduced ortransmitted in any form or by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, includingphotocopying, recording,

taping, or by any information storageretrieval system, without the written

permission of Dover and BlackstoneMedia L.L.C.

Dover and Blackstone Media L.L.C.

For information address:Dover and Blackstone Media L.L.C.

P.O. Box 12944

Pittsburgh, PA 15244-0944www.doverandblackstone.com

ISBN: 978-0-9841160-1-0Printed in the United States of America
http://www.doverandblackstone.com/http://www.doverandblackstone.com/


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C h a p t e r O n e

Hasan Azzam stared at the large, shiny cleanairplane that was parked on the tarmac, at gate36, of the Pittsburgh International Airport. Aluggage valet rolled by his food service truck andhe slouched a bit in his seat, pulling down the brimof his baseball cap. No one was paying anyattention to him. They all had their own jobs to do.

The planes had to be loaded and sent on theirway. He could have looked like Osama bin Ladenhimself and no one would have paid him any mind.He grinned a little. Could it be this easy? Wherewas all this Homeland Security everyone hadtalked about? He and his cohorts had entered theUnited States with absolutely no problem. Ofcourse they arrived at different places and atstaggered times, but there were no obstructions.

They had laughed when they recalled the story ofone conspirator who had inadvertently carried asmall Swiss Army knife, on a key chain, throughcustoms and had not been stopped.

Hasan looked around to see if his three

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friends were in place. This would be simple. Therewould be no hijackers this time. This would be astatement, pure and simple. One man wouldtransport the package into the planes storagecompartment, while Hasan and the two other menkept a lookout for airport security. The explosivewould be armed and set to trigger long after themen had left the scene. possibly, dependingupon departure time, while the jetliner was in theair. Americans would see that they could beattacked anywhere and at any time. Soon 9-11

would become just another day in a long list ofnightmarish days. Hasan was sure the revolutionwould be victorious. How could it not be? Allah andhis legions of faithful were on their side. Soon theinfidels would be brought to their knees. It waswhat hed been taught so many years before andit was what he believed.

Four men, one small cell, were about tostrike fear into the hearts of all Americans. Hasanwatched as his friend with the package droveanother utility vehicle up next to the loadingconveyor. He looked so calm, so normal. They all

had the proper uniforms and credentials. They hadstudied maps of the airport and they knew whatwas behind every door and security gate. Theyhad become explosives experts and wereconfident in the reliability and effectiveness oftheir weapon. It would obliterate the Boeing 767and everything that was on it. But first things first.

The bomb would be placed and primed and thepassengers would be boarded. The team wouldleave the airport, individually, and meet again at asmall motel a mile or so away. They would change,switch cars and drive as a group to Cleveland. All

the while, they would monitor the news, listening


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for reports on their devastating attack. InCleveland, they would take different modes oftransportation to Toronto where they would meetat a safe house and wait until things quieted down.It was so simple, so fool proof. Hasan had wantedso desperately to be the one who placed thebomb. He wanted to be the lead man, the one tocarry the sword. But this time around it was not tobe. As a matter of fact, he had drawn the safestposition, the one furthest from the plane. This wasnot a challenge for a man of Hasans courage, but

he knew that the success of the mission dependedupon the cooperation of all the participants. Hewould have his day, just not this day.

The point man stepped on to the tarmacand casually eyed his friends. He walked to theback of the vehicle and pulled two suitcases froma rack. He turned and started his walk to theloading belt. With all of their preparation andplanning, who would have thought that the manwould step directly in front of a passing fuel truck?Suddenly, there was a massive explosion.Everything near the detonation was engulfed in a

large ball of flames, including the plane, the manwith the bomb, and Hasans two other lookoutfriends. Hasan, however, was far enough away tomiss the brunt of the explosion, although his truckwas scorched and the windshield shattered.

He sat motionless, unable to comprehendwhat had just happened. One moment he was ateam member, part of a righteous assault group,and the next he was alone. Then the sounds of thereal world began to fade in: screams, engines andsirens. He took a cleansing breath, started histruck, shifted into gear and carefully started to

drive away. Everywhere he looked he could see


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flashing lights and emergency vehicles. Police andfire personnel were all around him. He kept going,slowly, deliberately so as not to attract anyattention.

The small abandoned access road at the farend of runway 28 was his escape route. It wasremote and surprisingly unsecured. He pulled thetruck into a grove of trees, stopped and shut offthe engine. Now what? They had only discussedthe possibility of failure once and it was summarilydismissed. Their plan was so simple and so

foolproof. Yet it had failed and the rest of his teamwas dead. He took a rag from under the front seatand wiped everything on the truck that he thoughthe and his allies had handled. They had stolen thetruck, so there was no other way that it could betraced back to Hasan. He walked another hundredyards to the place where they had hidden theirHonda CRV. He found the keys where he had leftthem, under a nearby rock, opened the driversside door and got in.

He thought for a second; the backup plan inthe event of failure. He got out of the SUV, walked

to the back and opened the tailgate door. He liftedthe carpeting and pulled up on the picnic tabledoor. Underneath were a small safe and anassortment of weapons, including a high powered,collapsible, sniper rifle complete with carryingcase. He examined several keys on his key chainuntil he found the right one and then pulled thesafe box out on to the floor of the car. He scannedthe area nervously to see if anyone wasapproaching. All he could hear was the noise fromthe activity at the site of the explosion and thatwas a long way off. He keyed the box and it

popped open. He didnt know what hed find. No


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one ever dreamed that theyd need to use it.


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It was getting dark and he needed to use asmall flashlight to clearly see the contents of thecontainer. What was this? Two large envelopes! Heripped one open and found five thousand dollars. Itwould be a start, but hardly enough to sustain andrebuild the cell. The other envelope was thinnerand contained a few typewritten sheets of paper.

He read them carefully. It was a list of dosand donts. Do not go back to the motel. Abandon

anything and everything you left in your room. Theplanned escape to Toronto was off. He was todrive to the Holiday Inn in Pittsburghs South Hillsand go directly to room 420. It was already bookedand the key was taped to the sheet of paper. Hewould find additional instructions in a briefcase inthat room. It was a bit cryptic, but a place to start.He put everything back, except a loaded 9mmBerretta and five hundred dollars. He placed thegun under the front seat and the money into hiscoat pocket. Then he started the car and headedfor the hotel.

Pittsburgh isnt a big city, but the regionsroad system is a mess. The topography is that ofsteep hills and menacing ridges. One can neveranticipate the length of a trip by the way the crowflies. In most cities, ten miles would take fifteen totwenty minutes, on a good highway, at fifty-fivemiles an hour. In Pittsburgh, ten miles might takeforty-five minutes to an hour, depending upontraffic and the road conditions. Hasan was new tothe area. He had only slipped across the Canadian-US border a few weeks earlier. Now, he foundhimself questioning why he had made the trip in

the first place. When he walked the abandoned


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logging road that snaked its way into the country,he was full of energy and confidence. Now, as hedrove away from the airport, he felt doubt,uncertainty and, for the first time since he startedhis jihad, fear.

It took him nearly two hours to find theHoliday Inn. Hasan pulled into a space directly infront of the older hotel. He turned off the motorand looked at the building. It was so, so Americanlooking. Why had they picked this place, hewondered? It wasnt convenient to anything,

certainly not to the airport. One would have todrive secondary highways to get to a majorinterstate. If you asked him, this was not a goodchoice for the rendezvous, but then, no one askedhim.


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He reached over the front seat andretrieved an overnight bag. He opened it andstuffed the envelopes and 9mm inside. He lookedinto the rearview mirror, straightened his hair,made sure he looked presentable, got out of thecar and walked into the hotel. There was already aroom waiting for him so there was no need to stopat the front desk. He had mastered the art ofdelivering his English without so much as a trace

of a Middle Eastern accent, but he still feltawkward pretending to be an American. It felt sohypocritical smiling and laughing with theseAmericans, when in reality, all he wanted to do, hissole purpose for living, was to kill as many of themas possible. He walked to the elevator and pushedthe up button. A few other guests gatheredquietly around him. There he was, smiling andtrying to look pleasant. If they only knew, hethought. He was the very thing these peoplefeared the most, a real live terrorist. He was rightthere, in their midst and they didnt have a clue.

The elevator door opened and he steppedaside, politely allowing the others to enter first.Thank you! one person said. Youre welcome,Hasan replied. It was not an express trip. Therewas a passenger or two for each of the three floorsprior to the fourth. But he was the only person toexit on to that floor. The sign in front of theelevator indicated that 420 was to the right, just afew doors down. He sensed an uneasy silence. Hehad stayed in enough hotels to recognize thehallway sounds, multiple TVs, indistinguishableconversation and the rumble of the ice machine.

When he reached 420, he paused and put


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his ear to the door. Again there wasnt a sound. Heinserted his room key and unlocked the door. Heplaced his hand inside his overnight bag and tookhold of the Berretta. He pushed the door open butdidnt enter the room. He listened again. Suddenlya door opened down the hall and he turned quicklyin that direction. A man and a woman stepped intothe hallway, dressed as if they were on their wayto dinner. They had no idea how close they hadcome to being shot. The couple walked by Hasan,hardly noticing his presence. He watched them as

they passed and he thought how arrogant, affluentand self-absorbed they looked. He almost shotthem for the heck of it.


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As quickly as they had entered his world,they were gone and the hallway was empty again.He looked back to the room, held the handgun abit tighter and stepped inside. He closed the door,took out the 9mm and dropped the bag to thefloor. At first glance, the layout appeared fairlystandard. To his right was a bathroom. He lookedin and saw that the shower curtain was drawn onthe bathtub. He entered and pulled it open,

anticipating the worst. It was newly cleaned andempty. Other than the bathroom there werentvery many places for someone to hide. The closetwas a recess in the wall with an open clothes rodand no door. The two beds were on floor pedestalsso nothing could be placed under them. And therewas no one hiding behind the furniture. There wasno one else in the room. He was alone. Heretrieved the carrying bag and emptied itscontents on one of the beds. He didnt have much.Besides the envelopes and the Glock, it containeda change of underwear, another shirt, a pair of

Dockers, some socks and a thin jacket.He walked to the easy chair and sat down.Now what, he wondered. The instructions didntsay what the next step would be. This didntsurprise the young man. When he trained inAfghanistan, he was told that information wasvaluable and must be protected. Never tell thegroup the entire plan and never put to paper thepart of the plan that youre given. You weretrained to memorize everything. If it was inwriting, you were instructed to read it, learn it anddestroy the hard copy. He looked at the

information in the envelope again, made sure that


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he hadnt missed anything and then tore it intosmall pieces. Hed flush it down the toilet when hegot up. Now he would lean back and close hiseyes. He was surprisingly tired and it had been adisastrous day. He thought about his friends whohad died. He had trained for death but wasamazed at how fast it could take you. One secondthey were there and the next they were with Allah.How lucky they were, Hasan thought.

Then he thought of the mission and howthey had failed. Everything had been going so

well. They were only minutes away from successand suddenly it was over! He knew that he had toredeem himself and turn the defeat into a victorybefore he would be able to face his comradesagain. But how? He was alone, with limited fundsin a strange city. He needed help. Training hadalso taught him that no member of the groupwould be abandoned. He looked out the roomswindow. Ah, but where are you? he thought. Didthey even know he was there? He placed the gunon the nightstand next to the chair, turned hishead and fell deeply asleep.


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C h a p t e r T w o

Jack Kane had come to Pittsburgh from NewYork to attend an awards dinner for his friendDetective Thomas Caputo, who had beenawarded the Distinguished Service Medal bythe Pennsylvania state police. Through astrange set of circumstances, Kane andCaputo had joined forces to put an end to the

sophisticated and lucrative Argari organized


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crime ring. In the process, the men had killedone of the countrys deadliest assassins,Johnny Reece. The hit man was, of all things, amajor league baseball pitcher and, as if thatwerent enough, an All-Star. He was devious,diabolical and now deceased. In the end, thistwenty game winner was a loser.

Like all of the awards dinners he hadever attended, this one was long-winded andpredictable. He should have had all the time in

the world for Tom to drive him to the airportfor his return flight home. But the ceremonyhad rambled on and by the time it finished,they were running way behind. Even withlights and sirens, theyd be cutting it close.

The baggage check-in was slow andsecurity was understaffed. Kane looked at hiswatch and then to his friend, Caputo, who waswaiting with him until he cleared security andwas on his way.

Im never going to make it, Tom. It

leaves in five minutes.


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Im sorry, Jack. I dont know what tosay. I thought youd have all the time in theworld!

I.Suddenly there was a loud noise and

everything in the building shuddered.Instinctively everyone crouched down.

What was that? Caputo yelled over thecommotion.

Something blew up, if you ask me.Something very big just blew up,Caputo continued.

Everyone waited for a moment to see ifthere would be more explosions. Then theentire group slowly got to their feet. Thescreeners and security guards began tocordon off the entrance. There wouldnt beanyone entering or exiting the terminal nowuntil they had determined where thatexplosion had come from.

Caputo and Kane walked over to asecurity guard, who was already surroundedby a large crowd of anxious travelers.

I have a plane to catch and it leaves inten minutes! one young lady said in a loudand excited voice.

Me too! another chimed in.Im sorry folks, were in a lockdown.

the guard yelled. The good news is you wontmiss your planes because nothings coming inor flying out of this airport until we know

whats going on.


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Caputo pulled his badge and showed itto the man. The three men walked a few stepsaway from the group.

Im a detective with the state police.Whats going on?

Well detective, I dont know much morethan you! I just got a radio report saying thatthe plane at gate 36 blew up!

It what? Caputo asked again, as if hecouldnt comprehend it the first time.

Blew up, he repeated, at the gate.Did you say gate 36? Kane askedwhile looking at his boarding pass.

Thats right, said the guard.There goes my luggage, Kane said.That was your flight? Caputo asked.Kane showed him the ticket. Yup, that

was it. He pointed to the number, Gate 36. Itwas the flight to New York.

Well I dont think anybody will be flying

to New York tonight, not from this airport,said the security guard.We need to get back there, Caputo

said, pointing beyond the security checkpoint.I dont know, the guard was unsure.

And whos your friend?Detective Jack Kane, NYPD retired.

Show him some ID Jack.Kane pulled out his wallet and flashed

an ID and his honorary shield.Yeah, but hes retired. I dont know.

Well Im not retired and hes with me,


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Caputo said as he took Kane by the arm andstarted for the airside terminal. Now wevegot work to do.

Surprisingly, the guard simply said,Okay. and let them continue.

Caputo walked past the people moverthat shuttled people from the landside to theairside terminal.

They wont be using that for a while.Well have to walk. Caputo said.

You know something always happensto me when I visit this city. Kane said tryingto keep up with the younger man. Theresnever a dull moment.

The two men walked to a maintenanceexit that led to the outside.

This should take us where we want togo.

Should we really be getting involved?Kane questioned. You know that guard backthere shouldnt have let us through.

Yeah, I know. I think we caught him offbalance.Well, he may lose his job.Nah, no one will know.What do you mean? There are security

cameras all over this place. When they reviewthem, hell be toast.

Well then, think of it as a securitycheck and that guy failed. I mean, do youreally want a guy like that guarding yourairport? We just did the community a service.

Great, the guys gonna lose his job.


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Kane shook his head. That makes me feelterrible.

Hes not going to lose his job. Im astate police officer and I have a right to behere. And you, youre my deputy.

Deputy!All right, my consultant. Is that better?

Caputo pushed open the door and steppedoutside.

Consultant! You gotta be kidding. You

know the old expression, those who can, do,those who cant, teach, and those who cantteach, consult. Kane said, shaking his head.

Okay, so youre my dad.You know, consultant does have a ring

to it. They were both outside now. The

Landside Terminal and the Airside Terminal atPittsburgh International Airport are connectedby a sub-runway computerized rail system.Normally, the ride from one terminal to the

other took about two minutes. Walking fromone to the other was a ten-minute adventure.The problem wasnt just the distance; it wasmaneuvering around and dodging all theobstacles that separated the two facilities. There were luggage trains and maintenancecaddies, fuel tankers and catering trucks, andthey all seemed to be coming from differentdirections.

Are they aiming at us? Kane asked.It does seem like we have targets on

our backs, doesnt it? Caputo agreed. No,


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that explosions got everyone acting a littlenuts, Im afraid.

Its amazing these guys dont killsomeone.

Yeah, well the night is still young.And I thought the streets of New York

were dangerous.They are Jack, they are.They could see the glow from the fire on

the opposite side of the building, as they

approached the Airside Terminal. The noisefrom the commotion became louder, too.Should we walk around? Kane asked.Caputo pointed to a door. No, itll be

quicker if we go straight through.Moments later the two men were

heading down concourse B toward Gate 36. Itseemed that everyone in the airport waswalking in the opposite direction and that theywere the only people headed toward the fire.

There arent going to be too many

travelers leaving from this airport tonight,said Kane. It looks like theyre all goinghome.

Yeah, well I guess the sight of a burning jet airliner can make you change your travelplans. Suddenly flying doesnt seem all thatappealing.

The walk from one end of the concourseto the other took about ten more minutes. Theonly things fast at an airport are the planes,everything else takes time. At last they were

there, Caputo showed his credentials to a few


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people and explained Kanes presence andthen the men started to snoop around, Caputogoing in one direction and Kane moving inanother. First, Kane looked through the largeplate glass windows, to the burning airplanenot too far away. Then he looked up at theunbroken glass pane.

Amazing that its not in a millionpieces, dont you think? asked a relativelyattractive and smartly dressed young woman

who was standing just to his right.You would think the blast would haveblown these things away, Kane agreed, as hetapped his knuckles against the glass.

Theyre designed to do just what theydid. Theyre shatterproof.

No kidding! Kane was impressed.They probably could have taken a blast

three times this size.The woman extended her hand.Sandy Ryan, FBI. And who might you

be? Im Jack Kane, NYPD, retired.Retired!Yeah, well actually Im here as a

consultant.Consultant?Yeah, to the state police, he pointed to

Caputo. Im working the case with TomCaputo. Hes right over there.

Oh, I see. She stepped a little closer,So whats your initial impression?

Kane started to walk along the window


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to get a better angle of the plane. Sandyfollowed him step for step.

Initial impression! I dont know.


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They said that they think staticelectricity set off the fuel truck and it, in turn,blew up the plane. It went off right under theleft wing, and those wings are nothing morethan large fuel tanks.

Ive never heard of that happeningbefore, have you? Kane asked.

That truck didnt blow up by itself.Simultaneously, Kane and Ryan turned

to a little old lady who was seated in awheelchair right behind them.I didnt mean to be eavesdropping, but

I couldnt help but overhear yourconversation.

You saw what happened? Kane said.Yep. I was looking out the window, right

there where youre standing.Has anyone talked with you? asked

Ryan.Other than you, no.

What did you see? Kane continued.Well, it happened really fast but, thatfuel truck had just driven around the front ofthe plane and was heading toward the wingwhen this fella got off one of those luggagetrain things. She paused, rememberingsomething else, Hmmm, the strange thingwas that, with all the bags he was pulling onthat cart, he was only carrying one.

Carrying one what? Ryan pressed.One package the size of a large shoe

box, she paused again, and looked at Ryan


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and Kane who were wide-eyed, waiting for therest of her story, when he stepped in front ofthe fuel truck.

Intentionally? Ryan asked.I dont think so. It sure didnt look

intentional. I mean, it might have been, but itlooked like he was preoccupied. I saw himglance in three separate directions just beforehe took his last step.

Kane looked to Ryan and then back to

the lady.Youre sure about this.Absolutely. You see, I really cant move

around too much in this thing, she saidreferring to the wheelchair, so Ive become aprofessional observer. I see everything, andnobody really pays any attention to me. I thinkthe wheelchair makes people uncomfortable.The truck wasnt the first thing to explode. Itwas the box he was carrying, when it hit theground. A moment later the fuel truck burst

into flames and then the airplane went up. Itwas amazing, like something in the movies.Everyone was running all over the place,ducking, screaming, and I was glued to theaction like it was on HBO.

You said he looked in three directions,Ryan stated. Did you see what he waslooking at?

Well, I cant be sure. Its purely a guesson my part, but it looked like he was looking atthree men.

Three men! Where? Kane asked.


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One on the other side of the wing, theother near the front of the plane and I thinkthe other one was in a truck.

What kind of truck? Kane askedwanting more.

It looked like one of those box trucksthat rise up in the air.

You mean a catering truck?Yes, thats it, a catering truck.Sandy looked out at the wreckage. I

dont see any burning catering trucks outthere.Oh, he took off, she added. He left

right after the explosion. The other two menwerent so lucky, Im afraid. They didnt knowwhat hit them. Im sure youll find their bodies,or whats left of them, right down there. Shewas pointing toward the burning airplane.

Thank you for this information,Miss???

Thompson, and thats Mrs., Mrs. Judy

Thompson.Sandy motioned to another detectiveand he hurried over.

Charlie, will you do me a favor and takeall of Mrs. Thompsons contact information.Shes been a big help and were going to wantto talk with her again.

Sure Sandy. he replied. Ryan tookKane by the arm and the two began to walk.

Now, what are your first impressions?An act of terrorism. The guy had high

explosives in the box. But then again what do I


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know?Dont kid yourself, Mr. Kane. I know

exactly who you are.You do? asked Kane.Yes I do. Ive read all about your

exploits in the paper.You shouldnt believe everything you

read in the paper.The young woman smiled.Well, frankly I dont believe everything I

read in the newspapers, but I was also at thebanquet for Tom Caputo this evening. I heardyour talk and the nice words people said aboutyou.

Kane was following Sandys lead and shewas walking down the ramp at gate 35.

I must be slipping. In the old days Iwould have seen an attractive woman like youin the crowd.

Thank you, Jack. I dont feel slighted.You were very busy.

Any time I have to get up in front of acrowd, Im in another world until its over. Youmind telling me where were going?

Sandy took hold of the door handle atthe end of the ramp and pushed it open.

Were going to check out the scene ofthe crime and see if we can find any cateringtrucks

The younger woman scurried down thesteep set of stairs while Kane followed behind,slowed by his middle aged body and the

effects of a recent meniscus knee surgery.


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Ah, to be twenty years younger, hesaid to Ryan at the bottom of the stairs. I wasin great shape back in those days.

Ah, to be twenty years older, shegrinned, Id be so much wiser right now.

Point well taken. I guess were neversatisfied where we are in life, are we? askedKane.

The couple walked over to gate 36 andthe first thing Kane noticed wasnt the

carnage. It was the smell. It was an acrid, sourmix of jet fuel, melted plastic and burntelectrical wiring. Then, of course, there wasthe smell of scorched human bodies, one sohorribly distinctive, it easily cut through to theforefront of the odors. It reminded him ofVietnam and burning helicopters, of charredbodies and scenes that could only be found inthe midst of the horrors of war. Thosememories, he thought, were long forgotten.He was surprised at how wrong he was.

No sign of any catering truck.No, if the motor was still running, andhe was involved, hes long gone now.

Sandy continued to pan the scene. Doyou have any idea how many catering truckswork this airport? Itll take us forever to findthis guy.

It shouldnt be that bad. How manycatering trucks will be rolling around thisairport with scorch marks on the front end?Heck, when this baby went, it probably

blistered the trucks paint job.


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What makes you say that?Kane pointed to the terminal siding.

Take a look at the paint on the side of thebuilding. Some of it got burned away and itsat least twenty-five feet beyond where thattruck would have been.

Kane went on, And Id be looking for avehicle with a smashed windshield. The glasson the terminal may have been designed totake a powerful blast, but regular old car

safety glass would have cracked like an egg.Ryan paused, You know, youre right!I know Im right. Kane said as he

brushed some soot from his coat sleeve.Kane started for the epicenter of the

explosion and Ryan followed.What do you think, Al Qaeda?Probably, or one of their brother

organizations. Theyre sneaky bastards and Iwouldnt put it past them to do somethingcowardly, like this.

I thought they worked in biggergroups.Yeah, well ever since we started

dropping bunker buster bombs on their littlehideouts in Afghanistan, I heard enlistmenthas dropped way off. Kane eyed somethingand kneeled on one knee, to get a better look.I also read recently that our intelligencethought that they had gone to smaller cells. Theyre faster, easier to operate andexpendable.

Expendable?


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Yup, thats the word they used.


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Isnt it nice to feel like youre a part ofa team, Sandy said facetiously.

You have to remember, DetectiveRyan, these are the same wonderful peoplewho brought you the suicide bomber, a trulyunique and effective weapon of terror.

Kane was still focused on the pile ofrubble in front of him. Ryan went on. Youthink this might have been a suicide

bombing?Maybe, he replied, but I dont thinkso. He took a pen from his coat pocket,reached down and retrieved what looked likethe face of a small digital watch. How manysuicide bombers have timers on their bombs?Usually they just get in place and pull thechord.

What do you think, it was an accident?Ryan asked.

Well, it was an accident when it went

off. They probably planned on putting it in theplanes cargo compartment and drivingaway.

Ryan was pulling on some plastic gloves.And what? The guy stepped in front of thetruck?

Kane stood up. Hey these guys werehyped up. They werent thinking straight. Theywere on an adrenaline high. The one with thebomb probably looked for his friends, saw thatthey were in place and hopped off that

luggage tractor. He gestured toward the


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charred remains of the small vehicle and itstwo trailers of smoldering luggage. You know,I was supposed to take this flight.

Sandy turned to Kane. I didnt knowthat!

My luggage is probably right in there,he said, pointing to the burned bags.

They were quiet for a moment and thenSandy continued, Do you think any of theothers got away?

Its hard to say, but based upon Mrs.Thompsons statement, three out of the fourdisintegrated upon detonation. The fourth, ourcatering friend, was the only lucky one. Hewas far enough away and shielded by thetruck. That monster still walks among us.

There you are! a voice interrupted. Itwas Caputo. I thought Id lost you.

Kane turned to his friend. Sandy Ryanof the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Id likeyou to meet.

Hi Tom, she finished.Hey Sandy, how did you enjoy thebanquet?

The chicken was delicious.I should have known, Kane said. Who

dont you know, Tom?Sandy and I go way back, Jack. As a

matter of fact there was a time when she hada crush on me.

Sandy poked Caputo in the arm. It wasyou who had the crush on me, Tom Caputo.

Maybe youre right. Thank God we


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didnt share the same recess.Recess! said Kane.We went to school together, starting in

third grade, Sandy finished.She had great pigtails in those days,

Jack.And he had a nice chubby face.Caputo looked up at the smoldering

plane.It didnt take them long to put it out.

The fire company is just across therunway and they practice dousing these thingsevery day, she said. They probably werehere and had it out within ten minutes. They just bury the thing in foam. Thats the soapsuds youre standing in.

Jake turned to Caputo. Did you findanything?

No, not really. Most people ducked, ranor crapped in their pants when this thing blew.Boy, it stinks out here doesnt it?

Yeah, and itll be with you for a while.Why dont we commandeer one of these utilityvehicles and take a cruise around the airportand see if we can find a catering truck with asinged paint job and a broken windshield?

Dont have to commandeer anything.My cars just around the corner. Sandy said.You know, if it were me, Id head for theoutskirts of the airport. I wouldnt risk trying toleave through a terminal.

I agree, Kane said.

You mind telling me why were looking


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for a catering truck with a bad paint job?Ill tell you when were rolling.And in a few minutes, they were in

Sandys car and Kane was doing just that.Pittsburgh International Airport is a big andbusy facility. Thousands of travelers passthrough its gates on a daily basis. It wasnighttime and the runways were surroundedby a wooded perimeter. They would needsome luck to find that truck.

Weve been doing this for over an hour,guys. What do you think? We gonna find thisthing or what? Sandy asked.

If its damaged, theres a good chancehe ditched it. Lets give it a little while longer.

Just then, they got lucky. Theirheadlights flashed on what looked like theremnants of an abandoned service road.

Well, we missed that the first timearound. Kane pointed to the path. Sandyslowed the car and turned on to the old road.

This hasnt been used for some time,she said.Then their car lights reflected off of the

hidden vehicles taillights. Bingo! Kaneslapped his hands together. I think wevefound our caterer.

Sandy stopped the car directly behindthe truck. Caputo and Ryan got out and pulledtheir service revolvers. The unarmedconsultant Kane stepped from the carholding a flashlight.

I think hes long gone. Unless he was


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hurt, he kept moving, Kane said as hepanned the area with the beam of theflashlight.

Yeah, theres no one here, Caputosaid. Ryan and Caputo were now in the truck.

But this is the truck. The windshieldscracked and theres burn marks all over thefront of this thing, Sandy said as sheexamined the outside front end of the truck.

Hey, get a load of this. Kane was

examining something in the path.What have you got? asked Caputo.Its a bit muddy over here.We just had two days of rain, Sandy

interjected.Well I think we have his footprints,

Kane said as he leaned over to get a closerlook. He aimed the light toward the truck.Yup, thats what weve got and they comefrom the truck.

I think wed better get a crew out here

to go over this place before we messsomething up and lose some evidence, Sandysaid as she pulled her two-way from her coatpocket.

Good idea. Caputo agreed.Kane knelt down next to the footprints

and moved the light back and forth along theimpressions.

The game is afoot, he mumbled.What did you say Jack? asked CaputoOne man and hes running. I think Ill

be staying in Pittsburgh a little while longer.


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Kane answered in a clear and distinct voice.


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Documents

Strike at the Giant Chapters 1 + 2