86

I made the twenty-minute drive from the medical examiner’s office on the south side to my law firm. I was trying to focus but it was difficult. I was sleep-deprived. Tori and I had been up most of the night poring over the information taken from Stanley Keane’s house. I think I dozed off somewhere around dawn this morning. So I was the dictionary definition of tired and wired.

When I reached my law firm, Joel Lightner was waiting for me, looking fresh and eager. He called down to Shauna that I was back, which meant it was time for him to break the exciting news to us together. Bradley John joined in and we all took chairs in the conference room, giving Joel the floor.

“Okay,” he, framing his hands. “We know that in June of 2009, Global Harvest International purchased the stock of two companies-Summerset Farms and SK Tool and Supply. We also know that Manning went back on plans to take Global Harvest public that same month.”

“Right.”

“So the question was, what happened in June of 2009?”

“Right,” I said again. “And the answer?”

“The answer,” said Joel, “is nothing happened in June of 2009. But your enterprising private eye extraordinaire-y’know, the one who couldn’t track a bleeding elephant through the snow?”

“I think I apologized for that.”

“But you didn’t seem sincere. So anyway, the question is what happened in May of 2009?”

“Okay,” I said. “What happened in May of 2009?”

“In May of 2009, Global Harvest International completed a joint partnership with a company called Verimli Toprak, a Turkish company. Southern Turkey, the… Cukurova? The Cukurova region in southern Turkey is apparently some of the most agriculturally fertile land in the world. So, big company, globalizing, international partnerships, all that. Right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, then after the deal is cut, and the first shovel goes into the ground and the ribbon-cutting and all that-after that, Randall Manning returns to the United States and leaves his son, Quinn, behind to run the business, the joint venture. Quinn Manning has a wife, Julie, and a daughter, Cailie. Also, Randall Manning’s wife, Bethany, stays there, probably just for a while, to hang with the son and the granddaughter, right?”

“Right.”

“The city where they’re staying is Adana. Adana, Turkey.” He looked at us.

“Oh, Adana.” A gasp escaped Shauna. “The… what did they call it? The Adana Massacre or something?”

I was a little behind. It rang a bell, but I’ve had my head up my ass for quite some time now. Some would say a long time. Others would say always. “Help me out, someone,” I said.

Joel was glad to oblige, proud of his investigative work. “The first week of May 2009, there’s some kind of European soccer tournament in Adana’s main stadium. French, Spanish, Italians, Germans-all kinds of foreigners flooding to Adana for the tournament. That brings us to May sixth, 2009.

“May sixth, 2009, the Brotherhood of Jihad terrorist group attacks the Sahmeran Adana Hotel. A truck loaded with explosives drives up to the steps of the hotel and detonates. It rocks the building and destabilizes it. A lot of people die inside. But some don’t. Some manage to escape. And-you remember this now? The terrorists are waiting for them outside. They open fire on people trying to escape. They pick them off like it’s a video game. And they have machetes, too. They behead some of them. I mean, it’s fucking medieval.”

“Jesus,” I said.

“More like Allah.” Joel nodded. “Manning’s wife, son, daughter-in-law, and only grandchild are staying there. They all die. Randall Manning’s whole family dies.”

Holy shit. I knew something about losing a wife and daughter. But I had nobody else to blame, except maybe myself.

“Bruce McCabe,” said Joel. “McCabe’s wife worked in international sales for Global Harvest,” he said. “She was only in Adana temporarily. She died, too.”

“Wow,” said Shauna.

“And Stanley Keane?” I asked.

Joel nodded gravely. “His son was some big high school soccer star. He caught on with a Belgium team that was playing in Adana that week. I can’t tell if he was staying at the hotel, but I know he was in the hotel that day. He died, too. And so did his mother, Stanley’s wife.”

Unbelievable. That explained Stanley’s mumblings about how he was sorry he wasn’t there, how much he missed his family. His wife and son, blown up in a building by Islamic terrorists.

“Over three hundred people died that day,” said Joel. “Seventeen were American.”

“So it wasn’t viewed so much as an attack on America.”

“Right. Most of the victims were European. Americans died, but this was an attack on the infidels, the nonbelievers,” said Joel. “Nonbelievers invading their soil.”

Shauna threw up her hands. “So there’s the connection.”

“The connection is that they’re pissed off at our government,” said Joel. He shook his hand, which held the remote for the television and DVD player in our conference room.

He hit Play and the television came to life. “This was very hard to find,” he said.

It took me a moment, but it was Randall Manning, standing before a bank of microphones. He was dressed down and his hair was uncharacteristically messy. His face was contorted in anger.

“Why isn’t our government invading this country?” he said. “Why aren’t we going after the headquarters of the Brotherhood of Jihad? When Al Qaeda bombed the twin towers, we invaded Afghanistan and hit them where they live. Why not now? We know the Brotherhood of Jihad is in the Sudan, we know it’s in Yemen, and we know it’s here in Turkey. What are we waiting for?

“Three thousand casualties is unacceptable, but seventeen is okay? What amount of American lives is an acceptable level of casualties before this administration will act? I know we’re all very heartened that the administration is ‘gravely concerned’ and ‘investigating diligently.’ But where is the justice?” He looked around at what I assumed were gathering reporters. “Where is our government when the citizens need it most?”

The picture disappeared and the television went black.

Nobody spoke. A part of me agreed with the guy. These guys are attacking us, go attack them.

“So he’s not real happy with our government,” said Lightner. “He organized an online petition and got over a million people to sign it and urge the president to bomb Brotherhood of Jihad facilities in Yemen, Sudan, and Turkey.”

“It’s not that simple,” said Shauna.

Maybe not, but that wouldn’t assuage Randall Manning.

“He’s going to replicate it,” I said. “He’s got explosives and assault weapons. He’s going to bomb those buildings and shoot anyone who tries to flee.”

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