Target America

30

The Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department was somewhat different from other metropolitan police departments in that the LVMPD was a joint city-county police department for both the city of Las Vegas and Clark County, Nevada. The department was not headed by a chief of police appointed by city officials but rather by a sheriff elected by the citizens of Clark County. This meant the LVMPD was not under the direct control of either the city or the county. It was under the direct control of Sheriff Jack Moleska, and Jack Moleska didn’t appreciate being bothered at home during breakfast by a bunch of G-men in dark suits.

“Exactly who are all you people?” Moleska said, standing on his front porch in his pajamas looking at a veritable crowd of Secret Service agents on his lawn. He was tall, with thinning dark hair and a narrow face.

“We’re with the Secret Service, Sheriff.”

“All of you, huh?” Moleska handed back the agent’s identification. “And you say you have some kind of warrant?”

“Yes, sir.” The agent produced a single-page warrant, offering it to Moleska. “This warrant is issued by the United States Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court in Washington, DC.”

“Uh-huh.” Moleska took the time to read the entire warrant. It directed him to provide a “secure perimeter” outside the Luxor hotel and casino while “federal agents” entered the hotel for the purposes of taking into custody a “subject wanted for questioning.”

He looked at the agent. “So who the hell’s the subject?”

“I don’t know, sir. I haven’t been given that information.”

“Well, where’s the warrant for him?”

“I don’t have that information either, sir.”

Moleska stood looking at the Secret Service man. “So is this an FBI operation? Secret Service? Marshal Service? Ninja Turtles? Who?”

“There again, Sheriff, I haven’t been made privy to that information.”

Moleska gestured with the warrant. “Do you serve this kind of warrant often, Agent Rivers? I ask because I’ve never seen anything like it in thirty-five years of law enforcement. With the exception of”—he had to read the letters directly off the warrant—“the USFISC letterhead, this so-called warrant doesn’t actually name anyone at all.”

“It names you, sir.”

Moleska narrowed his gaze. “Okay, you listen… this is my city. My county. So you go back to wherever you came from, and you tell the federal government that I’m not an idiot. I can read between the lines as well as anyone, and this warrant directs me to stand by and watch what amounts to some kind of federal abduction. Not only will I not be a party to it, but I won’t allow it to take place inside my jurisdiction. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.” The agent lifted his hand and spoke into his sleeve.

A few moments later, the back door to one of the government sedans opened up, and a tall, white-haired gentleman came strolling up the concrete drive smiling.

“Hello, Sheriff,” the man said, offering his hand. “My name is Pope. May we have a word in private?”

Like most people, Moleska couldn’t help being disarmed by Pope’s boyish smile. “Sure, step inside.”

He turned and opened the door, allowing Pope to precede him into the house. Moleska shut the door, and the two of them crossed into the living room. “Now, what’s this all about?”

“Sheriff, I’m with the Central Intelligence Agency.”

Moleska held up the warrant. “That’s why nobody’s mentioned on this piece of paper. The CIA has no authority inside the US.”

“That’s correct,” Pope said. “Unfortunately, however, there’s a live nuclear weapon loose inside the country, and we’re the agency with the best chance of finding it before it goes off — which we expect to be in about thirty-six hours. That leaves us very little time for following the rules, as I’m sure you can understand. So I tell you this in all candor, Sheriff… if you refuse to look the other way on this… if you force the book on us… our one and only suspect is going to lawyer up and laugh while the clock on a Russian suitcase nuke ticks down to zero.”

The sheriff lowered his gaze, folding the warrant in half. “Let me get dressed. I’ll be right out.”