“Not your fault.” She set her sandwich on the paper in her lap and waved a hand. “My father made a mistake and other people died. I saw their family’s grief in news reports often enough to know the toll it took on them. So I guess if Waleed feels this way, I can understand it. Not that he’s embracing a life of crime as a result, but feeling a need to blame others.”
Evan wasn’t quite so sympathetic. “You’d think he would be even more unwilling to hurt others.”
“Hurting people do irrational things,” she said, and he had to wonder if she was thinking about Olin. “Another thing I don’t get is how Nasim was even allowed into our country with a brother in ISIS. Makes no sense.”
Evan had once thought the same thing. “Seems hard to believe now, but at the time his brother wasn’t on our radar as a potential ISIS operator. In hindsight we can see they both took the long-game approach. Nasim married an American citizen to speed up his path to citizenship. And he’s managed to escape any convictions, so he remains in the country. Same is true of Ibrahim.”
She gripped the wheel with both hands. “If Nasim’s responsible for Firuzeh’s death, Iwillfind a way to prove it.”
“I often thought we might be able to get to him via his brother.”
She glanced at him. “What is it with brothers in terrorism? I know it’s pretty common.”
Evan nodded. “Sometimes they join up in tandem, or like these guys, one brother radicalizes the other.”
She swallowed. “Do the Waleeds have sisters?”
Evan swiveled to face her. “You’re thinking of the characteristics of the 9/11 attackers.”
“Yeah. They all had younger sisters who the terrorists acted to protect.”
“But the 9/11 attackers also had violent alcoholic fathers. Not true of the Waleeds. However, their mother is deeply religious, and they had poor social achievement like the 9/11 attackers. Though you wouldn’t know it by looking at Nasim today. He’s very charismatic.”
“Like you said before, they don’t all join up for the same reason.” Her comment carried a heavy weight of the reality they were facing. Not knowing enough about terrorists’ motivations was common because they often died in their attacks, allowing no explanation.
She picked up her sandwich, and he attacked his while she whizzed through the busy D.C. metro traffic and headed toward Professor Flagel’s address.
As they strode up the severely cracked sidewalk to the professor’s brick bungalow, Evan took in the ivy smothering the house and the crumbling mortar between the bricks.
Kiley knocked on the black door in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. A tall man with snow-white hair and mustache opened the door.
“Professor Flagel?” she asked.
“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes behind thick wire-rimmed glasses.
“Special Agent Kiley Dawson, FBI.” She held out her ID. “And this is Agent Evan Bowers with ICE.”
“ICE?” Bushy brows rose above his glasses.
Odd.The professor only seemed to think ICE was unusual but didn’t seem to consider an FBI agent on his doorstep unusual as well.
“We have some questions to ask you about one of your students. Could we come in?” Kiley sounded cheerful, though Evanknew she was upset with the professor for the way he’d treated Firuzeh.
“Yes, of course.” He stepped back. “Come in.”
They entered a small living room with traditional furniture, including a blue camelback sofa and matching armchair. Heavy mauve drapes hung over the large front window, leaving the room dark and oppressive. A hint of garlic lingered in the air, and he heard dishes clanking in the next room.
“Sit, please,” Flagel said as he closed the door. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Thank you, but no.” Kiley perched on the edge of the sofa, and Evan sat next to her.
Flagel took a seat in a rigid-looking high-back chair. “Now, who is it you wish to talk about?”
“Firuzeh Abed,” Kiley said.
The professor stiffened. “What about her?”
“It seems the two of you had a disagreement about a paper she’d written.” Kiley rested her hands on her lap, and Evan saw her flex them as if relieving tension. “She believed her opinion on the topic shouldn’t be taken into consideration for her grade. Only the quality of her work and research and the paper itself.”
