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him.”

Adams ripped the phone out of his hand.

“I’m going to have to insist that you come to FBI headquarters with us.”

“Never,” Yousef yelled as he stood and tried to pull a pistol from the folds of his robe.

Chapter 61

The dining room burst into noise and motion. The agents and Evarts drew weapons as they moved sideways so they weren’t bunched. All three were faster than Yousef, who didn’t have a clean pull due to his flowing robe. The other Muslims screamed in Arabic and jumped away from the table to get out of harm’s way. Evarts, Adams, and Meadows yelled warnings at Yousef. Evarts saw defeat in his eyes. His expression turned from anger to fear as he realized he had lost.

Yousef lifted the gun high, letting the barrel point down by holding the grip with a thumb and forefinger.

“Slowly … lay it on the table,” Adams commanded. “Very slowly.”

Evarts and Meadows shifted their aim to the other Arabs. All of them looked terrified and none made a threatening move. Evarts sensed that Baldwin had extracted her gun from her purse and was holding it aimed at the floor. All ten people in the room started breathing again when Yousef’s gun had been laid on the table and he had backed away.

“I apologize.” Yousef said with a self-deprecating shrug. “My temper is my curse.”

“Anyone else armed?” Meadows barked.

The other five Arabs immediately said no while throwing their hands high and wide while shaking their heads.

“I’m sorry,” Meadows said, “but I need to pat you down. Johansen, cover?”

It took Evarts a moment to realize Meadows was talking to him. He needed to get better at responding to his alias.

“Susan and I have you covered,” Evarts responded belatedly.

Meadows professionally patted down the five men to find no additional weapons.

When he had finished, Meadows said, “Everyone but Yousef, sit.”

Everyone retook their seats. Adams roughly turned Yousef by shoving one shoulder and expertly forced his hands behind him. Before he knew what had happened, Yousef had a plastic restraint on his wrists.

“Take these off me!” Yousef yelled. “You have no right. I apologized. I’m an Egyptian national. I’m an esteemed Islamic scholar. I have a great following. You do not want to anger them.”

“Please be quiet while I read you your rights,” Adams said.

“Don’t you dare!” Yousef shrieked. “You do not arrest me. I will make international incident. My ambassador will demand apology from your president. My followers will march on your justice building. Your career over, you be disgraced, and humbled before Allah. Perhaps you go to jail.”

As Yousef yelled these objections, Adams ignored his outrage and dutifully read him his rights.

“You cannot do this,” Yousef insisted.

“What cannot be done is pulling a gun on an FBI agent,” Adams said. “You do not walk away from that with an apology. Our country doesn’t work that way.”

“Be thankful we’re only arresting you,” Baldwin said. “In Egypt, the ENP would have killed you on the spot.”

Yousef spat at her.

Baldwin instantly slapped him across the face. Hard. Yousef was livid. Evarts had never seen such a hateful expression on a man. If he were free, Evarts was certain that Yousef would have ripped her throat open with his bare hands. Adams immediately threw himself between the two of them and shoved Yourself into his chair.

“You will die for that!” Yourself yelled. “My disciples will hunt you down and give you a long, painful death after they force you to service their needs. You are dead, eahira.”

Baldwin took a handkerchief that Evarts offered and while she wiped her face, she asked, “Why should I be scared? Your followers are in Cairo; too poor to buy airline tickets. Your threats are empty bluster. You are an old fool.”

She threw the soiled handkerchief at Yousef. He tried to leap to his feet, but Adams roughly shoved him back down. Yousef fumed. Baldwin glanced at Meadows and Evarts. They had the others under their eye, so she returned her gun to her purse and swung it to hang behind her back. She leaned in close to Yousef.

“You don’t frighten me. I know Arab men. They huff and they puff, and they pretend to be men but they’re weak. That why you beat women. It makes you feel big and powerful, but in your heart, you know you’re daeif … weaklings. You’re going to jail, and your followers will bluster at first, but in the end, they will cry like children.”

She saw he was about to spit again, so she quickly rose and stepped backward. She smiled down on him.

“You will regret this,” he said in a menacing low voice. “My people will hurt you, humiliate you and when you are no longer useful, kill you. They will do this.” He looked around at the three men. “They can’t save you. They will die too. And my people don’t need to buy airfare.” He appeared exceedingly pleased with himself. “Some are here. Right in this building.”

“Humph,” Baldwin snorted. “How many of your followers could there possibly be at this conference?”

“Enough!” he retorted angrily.

“You lie,” Baldwin said. “And even if a few of your followers are here, they’re unarmed.” She swung her purse to the front of her body so he could see it. “I’m armed, they’re not, so do your followers a kindness. Tell them to stay clear of the angry woman who captured and dishonored you.”

“Kamil, tell my disciples to kill this eahira!” Yousef yelled.

“Arrest Kamil,” Evarts ordered as he pointed to a man with a shocked expression on his face.

“Avery, cuff Kamil and set him beside Yousef,” Adams immediately ordered. “Then call for backup.”

Meadows asked, “What about the other four?”

Loud and endless protestations of innocence came immediately. They practically disclaimed even knowing Yousef and Kamil. Meadows looked at Baldwin for guidance. He evidently saw what he needed because he commanded Meadows to take the four to another table and get identification before releasing them. Then he asked Evarts to stay with Kamil while he and Baldwin

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