Fenly Aquino, who works in America’s homeland security, arrives in Madrid to help a Spanish security team stop a terrorist attack. He is assigned to work with Raquel López, a former cop. They have major cultural differences since Fenly was born and raised in the Bronx by a mother from the Dominican Republic, whereas Raquel was born and raised in Madrid, but they have a common source of motivation since he lost his fiancée in the attack on the World Trade Center and she lost her brother in the attack on Madrid commuter trains. The current plot, which the Spanish team heard about from a man on trial for the attack on the commuter trains, involves the use of laundered money to buy weapons of mass destruction that will be directed at a target in New York City. The key to stopping the attack is to pick up the trail of the money being laundered, follow the money to the weapons, and stop the weapons from being deployed. As they work together Raquel introduces Fenly to Madrid and its underworld of drug dealers, prostitutes, pimps, and money runners. They have only two weeks to stop the attack, so time is running out on them as they desperately try to unravel the plot.
Excerpt
When the waiter had brought their drinks and left them, Raquel leaned forward over the table. “Well, as you know, our assignment is to stop a terrorist attack.”
“Before you go any further,” he said, “can you tell me your source of information?”
“Sure I can. You probably know that the men accused of being involved in 11-M are still on trial”
“I read that in the newspaper.”
“A few days ago one of them offered us information in return for a more lenient sentence.”
“What kind of sentence is he facing?”
“Almost certainly life in prison.”
“And you’re willing to bargain with him?”
“Why not? If his information helps us to stop an attack, then it’s worth bargaining for.”
“But what if he gave you false information?”
“If he did, we’ve been conned.”
“It sounds like you’ve already made a deal with him.”
“We have. And we already have his information.”
“What did he tell you?” Fenly asked.
“He told us about an attack they’re planning. If you look at a map,” Raquel said, drawing an imaginary line on the table with her index finger, “you’ll see that Spain is a natural bridge between Europe and North Africa. We were conquered by Islamic armies from North Africa, and we were under their rule for hundreds of years. We finally drove them out, but now after more than five hundred years they’re coming back.”
“You mean as immigrants.”
She smiled. “Yes. But also as merchants and financiers.”
“Are they involved in international trade?”
“They’re involved in the drug trade. North Africa is a main source of drugs for Europe, and Spain is where these drugs enter the European market.”
“So money from drugs changes hands in Spain.”
“A lot of money. Some goes back to North Africa, some stays here, and some goes elsewhere. We’re interested in the money that goes elsewhere.”
“Where does it go?”
“We don’t know. But we know what they’re doing with it.”
“What are they doing with it?”
“They’re buying weapons.”
“What kind of weapons?”
“Presumably weapons of mass destruction.”
“What are they planning to do with these weapons?”
“They’re planning to attack a target in New York City.”
“Did he tell you the target?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Well, we don’t have to know,” Fenly said. “If we could find the money we could follow it to the weapons, and we could stop them from being deployed.”
“We could,” Raquel said, “but we don’t know where to look for the money.”
“So my job is to find the money.”
“That’s your specialty, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I can’t guarantee success.”
“You have to,” she said urgently.
“You really believe what this guy told you?”
“I have an instinct about it.”
“A cop’s instinct?”
“A woman’s instinct.”
“Can we talk with him?”
“We can give the interrogators questions to ask him, and we can watch the interview.”
“How soon could that happen?”
“Tomorrow if you’re ready.”
“I’ll be ready. How much time do we have?”
She frowned. “He doesn’t know the exact date, but he says the attack is scheduled to occur in about two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Then we better get off our fucking butts.”
From the look in her eyes he knew she had understood what he meant, but he also knew she wouldn’t have put it quite that way in Castilian Spanish.
