THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Jackson ’s priorities was to search both imams’ offices for information casting light on Gateway’s affiliation with Islamic militants. But in the short time he’d been here, he had yet to find an opportunity. By day, the hallways bustled with activity. At night, the mosque was secured by an alarm system that required consultation with experts before the Taskforce could confidently override it. It was only during this brief time in Ibrahim’s office that Jackson had the chance to look around.
    This evening, while supplying rote answers to Toby’s usual questions, he scrutinized the titles in Ibrahim’s bookcase, hunting for the book that had caught his eye the last time. His gaze finally snagged on it and he tipped his head slightly, straining his eyes to read the title on the spine.
    Supreme 120 Lessons: for the Nation of Gods & Earths .
    The strange title strummed a chord of recognition, as did the logo under the title:  a crescent moon, a star and the number seven, all circumscribed by a sun. He’d seen that somewhere else, but where? 
    “We’ll talk,” Toby said, hindering Jackson ’s memory as he recalled that We’ll talk was code for Call Headquarters . Ike must have tracked down the bombshell . Hot damn!
    “A’right. Night, sir,” he answered, conveying that he would call HQ that very night.
    As he lowered the receiver into the handset, he saw Ibrahim jot himself a note. Concern clamped down on Jackson ’s shoulders. Had the cleric caught him staring at the book? “Thank you, Imam.” He started backing toward the door .
    “Just a minute, Abdul.” Ibrahim waved him closer to the desk, where he sat beneath matching tribal tapestries .
    Jackson ’s pulse spiked as he retraced his footsteps.
    “Your file says you are from Baltimore ,” the imam noted, “yet I hear something peculiar in your speech. What is your heritage?” He looked up, his dark eyes bright with interest .
    “My mother was from Grand Cayman Island ,” Jackson answered, relieved that Ike had layered that detail into the original Abdul Ibn Wasi’s file .   
    “I see. And you never knew your father,” the imam added with a grimace of compassion .   
    That detail was true of the real Abdul Ibn Wasi, but not of Jackson , whose father was a judge in Rockville . “Allah is my father now,” he answered simply .        
    The imam’s expression turned thoughtful. “It gladdens my heart to hear so, Abdul.” He switched topics abruptly. “I noticed you have memorized the recitations already. You obviously have a strong mind.”
    “Thank you.” Jackson looked down at the desk. Maybe he should have pretended to struggle with the Arabic like the others, but having served three tours in Iraq , the passages flowed from him without effort. He shifted on his feet .
    “I can use a man of your intelligence,” Ibrahim admitted, snatching Jackson ’s gaze upward.
    Pretending to be pleased, Jackson grinned. “Okay. How?” Wouldn’t it be nice if the imam dumped incriminating information in his lap, sparing him from having to endure all four weeks of the program? 
    Ibrahim winked. “In good time,” he answered, disappointing Jackson . “You may return to the dining hall.” He looked down at his paperwork. “Kindly send in Yusuf Ibn Ismail.”
    Heaving an inward sigh, Jackson ducked into the hall and went in search of his roommate, Corey, who rarely went by his conversion name, Yusuf. He found him in the dining hall finishing his dessert. “Imam Ibrahim is waitin’ for you,” he conveyed.
    Scraping back his chair, Corey sent him a hopeful look through his glasses. “You gonna play ball with us tonight?” When it wasn’t raining, the parolees had taken to shooting hoops on the blacktop during their free evenings .
    “No, man. I gotta run.” Jackson patted his stomach. “I’m gettin’ fat.”
    Shaking his head at the exaggeration, Corey scooped up his tray and went to report to the imam. In the same instance,