to less than normal.
“Can you zoom in?” Keene asked.
“It’s a fixed camera,” Davies answered. “Best I can do is isolate an image and blow it up. And for all the money they’ve spent putting eyes and ears inside this place, they never touched the ATMs. That camera out there is old. And it’s going to get pixelated fast, depending on how big you blow it up.”
“Perfect,” Keene said. He looked at Taylor. “Just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”
Davies slowed the video down to almost a complete stop. The man in the hat pulled it low down over his eyes and then pulled the hood up over his hat. He stopped before entering and turned his head, as if to check to see if anyone was paying him notice. As the man turned, Davies stopped the camera just as the man’s full face came into view.
“There!” Taylor said.
The camera froze on what seemed to be a man in his mid-to-late thirties. He appeared to be of medium build and had a scraggly beard.
“Go ahead and blow it up,” Keene said.
“This is actually a good picture,” Davies admitted. “I may be able to give you something here.”
With a few clicks the man’s face filled the screen. The pixilation indicated the camera’s age, but it was still clear enough to get a good look.
“You think that’s him?” Taylor asked.
“I’d bet my life on it,” Keene answered. “Can you print that out for us?” he said to Davies.
“Also,” Taylor said, “can you e-mail it to me? I have some software that may be able to fill in the pixilation.”
“Sure,” he said and clicked a few more buttons then handed Keene the image as it rolled out of the printer next to his desk.
Keene grabbed the photo, shook the man’s hand, and said, “Thanks a bunch. You’ve been very helpful, Detective Davies.”
Davies nodded and said, “Glad I could help.”
CHAPTER 22
T he Prophet stood across the street, leaning against the side of a corner market. There were lots of people going in and out of the store, so he wasn’t that noticeable. And he really wanted to not be there, but he was instructed to stay and watch. He was to see who was looking for him. He knew the names but not the faces. This would help him to avoid them until it was time.
See, that was the thing. At some point, he would come to them. He was told they would need him. And they would look to him for guidance.
But for now, he was to observe and just be the messenger.
So he watched as the FBI vehicle pulled up to the café. He observed the two people who got out of the truck. The girl looked to be athletic and capable. The guy looked cold and calculated. Both immediately were aware of their surroundings as they got out of the vehicle, surveying the area, looking for anything that appeared to be suspicious.
And that’s why he decided to leave. He had seen them. Knew their faces now. And that was enough. But as he pushed off the side of the building to go, another man emerged from the vehicle. This man looked different. He carried himself the same as the first man but was different somehow. This must be the one, he was told, who was the believer.
Good
, the Prophet thought,
they’ll need him.
Just then the man he had been observing turned in his direction. And it only happened for a split second. But they locked eyes. He froze for a moment, a slight panic coursing through his veins as the man took two steps closer to him, still looking. But then he stopped and turned back to face the café. Keene and Taylor had emerged and were carrying a computer. The three of them had a brief conversation and then split up again.
That was enough. He should have left minutes ago. Without a second thought, he turned and pulled the hoodie back up over his hat and turned down the other street.
CHAPTER 23
M arianne Levy left the White House and headed back to her office at Homeland Security. When she got there, she checked in with her secretary and cleared her schedule for the rest
“Can you zoom in?” Keene asked.
“It’s a fixed camera,” Davies answered. “Best I can do is isolate an image and blow it up. And for all the money they’ve spent putting eyes and ears inside this place, they never touched the ATMs. That camera out there is old. And it’s going to get pixelated fast, depending on how big you blow it up.”
“Perfect,” Keene said. He looked at Taylor. “Just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”
Davies slowed the video down to almost a complete stop. The man in the hat pulled it low down over his eyes and then pulled the hood up over his hat. He stopped before entering and turned his head, as if to check to see if anyone was paying him notice. As the man turned, Davies stopped the camera just as the man’s full face came into view.
“There!” Taylor said.
The camera froze on what seemed to be a man in his mid-to-late thirties. He appeared to be of medium build and had a scraggly beard.
“Go ahead and blow it up,” Keene said.
“This is actually a good picture,” Davies admitted. “I may be able to give you something here.”
With a few clicks the man’s face filled the screen. The pixilation indicated the camera’s age, but it was still clear enough to get a good look.
“You think that’s him?” Taylor asked.
“I’d bet my life on it,” Keene answered. “Can you print that out for us?” he said to Davies.
“Also,” Taylor said, “can you e-mail it to me? I have some software that may be able to fill in the pixilation.”
“Sure,” he said and clicked a few more buttons then handed Keene the image as it rolled out of the printer next to his desk.
Keene grabbed the photo, shook the man’s hand, and said, “Thanks a bunch. You’ve been very helpful, Detective Davies.”
Davies nodded and said, “Glad I could help.”
CHAPTER 22
T he Prophet stood across the street, leaning against the side of a corner market. There were lots of people going in and out of the store, so he wasn’t that noticeable. And he really wanted to not be there, but he was instructed to stay and watch. He was to see who was looking for him. He knew the names but not the faces. This would help him to avoid them until it was time.
See, that was the thing. At some point, he would come to them. He was told they would need him. And they would look to him for guidance.
But for now, he was to observe and just be the messenger.
So he watched as the FBI vehicle pulled up to the café. He observed the two people who got out of the truck. The girl looked to be athletic and capable. The guy looked cold and calculated. Both immediately were aware of their surroundings as they got out of the vehicle, surveying the area, looking for anything that appeared to be suspicious.
And that’s why he decided to leave. He had seen them. Knew their faces now. And that was enough. But as he pushed off the side of the building to go, another man emerged from the vehicle. This man looked different. He carried himself the same as the first man but was different somehow. This must be the one, he was told, who was the believer.
Good
, the Prophet thought,
they’ll need him.
Just then the man he had been observing turned in his direction. And it only happened for a split second. But they locked eyes. He froze for a moment, a slight panic coursing through his veins as the man took two steps closer to him, still looking. But then he stopped and turned back to face the café. Keene and Taylor had emerged and were carrying a computer. The three of them had a brief conversation and then split up again.
That was enough. He should have left minutes ago. Without a second thought, he turned and pulled the hoodie back up over his hat and turned down the other street.
CHAPTER 23
M arianne Levy left the White House and headed back to her office at Homeland Security. When she got there, she checked in with her secretary and cleared her schedule for the rest
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