"We need to discuss your security," Agent Beckeman said.

"We don't kill judges in America."

"We also don't fly commercial airplanes into office buildings. But they do."

"I'm not worried about my security."

"Say the word, and we'll put a detail on you twenty-four/seven."

The attorney general grabbed a toffee and stood. He stepped to the door but turned back to Scott with a somber expression.

"We have a chance to save lives, Scott. American lives, here at home. We have to beat them here because we'll never defeat them over there."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't kill civilians."

"So, we have a real life terrorism case playing out right here in Dallas."

Four miles north of the federal courthouse, Professor Ken Johnson addressed his constitutional law class at the Southern Methodist University School of Law.

"But, according to my friends in the press-I was in the courtroom this morning for the arraignment-who spoke to their sources in the FBI, the only evidence the government has against the Imam is his anti-American and pro-ISIS statements. We would assume that there is some evidence directly connecting him to the alleged plot because he was indicted by a federal grand jury. But we all know that grand juries indict and trial juries acquit. So the fact that he was indicted does not mean he's guilty. Or even that there is probable cause that he committed a crime."

"He's a radical Islamist cleric," Mr. Edwards on the third row said. "Have you seen his YouTube videos?"

"I have. All within free speech. He never advocates or incites violence. And who decides who's radical and who's mainstream? The federal government? The Founding Fathers were considered radical when they created this county, at least to the king of England. What if the Imam and other Muslims are rebelling against Middle Eastern dictators that we placed in power and kept in power? Maybe they want to live their lives their way?"

"Killing Jews? A guy named Hitler wanted to live his life that way, too."

"We're getting off topic. At this moment in time, the Imam faces the prospect of sitting in a jail cell until trial because he exercised his right of free speech. He said things the government doesn't like to hear, things many of us don't like to hear, things I don't like to hear, frankly. But he has a right to say things we don't like, doesn't he? Did nine-eleven amend the Bill of Rights? The Patriot Act says yes. It's a brave new world of terrorism, so the Constitution has to be read according to the world we now live in, not the world the Founding Fathers lived in. Ironically, that has always been the judicial philosophy of the liberals, myself included, that the Constitution should be read in light of the current world. The conservatives always argued for original intent. Now, roles are reversed. Liberals argue for original intent, and conservatives argue for a modern view-at least when it comes to the rights of privacy and free speech. Ms. Oliver?"

He pointed to a young woman on the front row.

"He has a free speech right to say those things even if we find them disgusting. Free speech is not evidence that he committed a crime. Just because I say I wish you were dead-I don't-doesn't make me guilty of conspiring to murder you."

"But what if he wanted the stadium to come down?"

"What if I'm hoping you die? Just because I want it to happen doesn't mean that I'm trying to make it happen. The government must present evidence of that fact, that he's involved in the plot, to establish that he is in fact a danger to the community, to prevent his release."

"Any contrary opinions?"

Mr. Graber, also on the front row, raised his hand. Professor Johnson nodded at him.

"The Imam should not be released. This isn't a case of the New York Times wanting to print the Pentagon Papers. That's an easy case. This is more akin to shouting 'fire' in a crowded theater. The speaker knows people will likely take action and others will be hurt. Here we have a Muslim cleric whose words encourage if not incite violence, whom the FBI believes is the mastermind behind a plot to kill a hundred thousand people at the Super Bowl. What is his right to freedom pending the verdict versus the right of those hundred thousand people to stay alive? What if the FBI is right?"

"What if they're wrong? Does the Imam's exercise of his First Amendment rights make him a danger to the community? Does exercising his free speech rights cause him to lose his Fifth Amendment rights? What about his Sixth Amendment rights? Do we deny him competent counsel because we don't like what he says? Does the judge keep him in custody until after the Super Bowl just in case? Is that right?"

"We did it during World War Two with the Japanese. We thought they were a danger to America so we rounded them up and put them in concentration camps for the duration of the war. And the Supreme Court said that was okay."

"We did. But they weren't Japanese. They were American citizens of Japanese descent. The Imam is also an American citizen. Why don't we just ship him off to Guantanamo Bay?"

"Why don't we? Professor, all this theory of law is neat, but on Super Bowl Sunday there won't be theories in that stadium. There'll be real people. Who might die. I've got a better idea: let's nuke the Middle East. Bomb those Islamic jihadists back to the Stone Age where they want us to live."

"Mr. Graber, this is a con law class, not the O'Reilly show. I expect civility."

"Those Muslims behead innocent people. How civil is that? Why should we be civil to them? They're here living among us, plotting against us."

He cast a menacing glance at two students sitting on the back row with their heads bowed.

Abdul jabaar and Saddam Siddiqui glanced sideways at each other and knew immediately that they shared the same thoughts. The same fears. They were brothers, they were Muslim, and they were nervous. They knew Aabdar Haddad. They prayed at the same mosque. They were shocked when they had heard of his death. They also knew the Imam. And he knew them. Would he lead the FBI to them? Would he break in jail and point fingers at other Muslims to save himself? Would he point an accusing finger at the Siddiqui brothers? They knew all the other young Muslim men who had been arrested with the Imam. Would they be next? Would the FBI SWAT team show up at their house in the middle of the night or at the law school during class and arrest them? They had been anxious since the news had broken Saturday. Their anxiety increased exponentially when they had arrived at the law school that morning to suspicious looks from the other students, looks to which they had become accustomed since 9/11. Suspicion came with being a Muslim in America during the age of al Qaeda, al-Shabab, Ansar al-Shariah, Boko Haram, and ISIS. They understood that. So they laid low. They did not call attention to themselves. They made no overt display of their religion at the law school. They dressed like the other law students. They acted like the other law students. They blended in with the other law students. They looked like law students.

They did not look like terrorists.

"The PD representing Mustafa," Mike Donahue said, "we'll kick her pretty little ass Friday."

Mac nodded at Donahue. They rode in a black Suburban with Agent Beckeman back to FBI Headquarters. His second in command, an agent named Stryker, drove. Four G-men in one car, it was a Brut aftershave commercial.

"You'd better. Mustafa stays in that cell until after the Super Bowl. That's straight from the president."

"Then the president better call the judge," Beckeman said. He sighed and shook his head in disgust. "He's like my goddamned sister."

"She's a judge?"

"Nun. She thinks all men are good. I tell her, you haven't met an Islamic jihadist."

"Family reunions at your house must be fun," Donahue said.

"What if the judge appoints private counsel?" Mac said.

"No defense attorney in Dallas will touch the case. Come Friday, that little girl is going to stand up in court for Mustafa."

"What's your strategy with her?"

"Stand aside and let her lose the hearing." He laughed. "We won't need evidence to beat her."

"Don't bet the ranch on it," Mac said. "Not with Fenney." He pointed a finger at Beckeman. "Find some evidence by Friday."

None of the other federal judges wanted to preside over the Imam's case. None of the criminal defense lawyers Scott had called wanted to defend the most dangerous man in Dallas. The prospect that your client might be mad at you if he's convicted comes with defending any criminal defendant; the prospect that your client might behead you if he's convicted comes with defending an Islamic terrorist.

"No way, Judge."

"Not enough money?"

"Too much danger. These people, Judge, they're not like us. They cut people's heads off, put it on YouTube."

"They have a constitutional right to competent counsel."

"I've got a God-given right to keep my family safe."

"I could appoint you."

"Please don't."

Scott had been appointed to a federal case by the judge who had previously sat in his chair. The case had changed his life. For the better. From a big-firm lawyer making $750,000 a year and driving a Ferrari to a federal judge making $201,100 and driving a Ford. From doing well to doing good. But he couldn't do that to another lawyer. Each lawyer had to make his or her own choice in that regard. Scott had the power but not the inclination. He hung up the phone.

"He won't take the case?" Bobby asked.

Scott shook his head.

"All the defendants agreed to joint representation. The PD, she can't handle that."

"I know."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Find them competent counsel. Or teach Ms. Meyers how to try a case."

Abdul jabbar stopped the car at the entrance to the Islamic Garden at the Restland Cemetery in Dallas. The brothers had come for the funeral of Aabdar Haddad. Their friend. Their fellow Muslim. Their brother in Allah.

"What is wrong, brother?"

"Look."

Abdul pointed to the cemetery entrance ten cars in front of them.

"What?"

"The cameras."

"Yes, the TV news has come to record Aabdar's funeral."

"So has the FBI."

At various vantage points around the perimeter of the crowded funeral service, men in suits manned handheld video cameras.

"They want to capture our faces," Abdul said. "So they can use facial recognition software to ID us. We cannot go in, little brother. We cannot be in the FBI database. We cannot be on the FBI watch list."

Abdul did not follow known jihadists on Twitter or friend them on Facebook. The FBI puts friends and followers on watch lists. Those were lists he did not want to be on.

"But Aabdar was our friend."

"Yes, but he is with Allah now. The Americans killed him just as they killed our father. And what did we get in return? An apology. 'We blew up your father. Sorry. Have a nice day.' "

"They let us into America. They gave us citizenship. We are Americans, too."

"But are we truly American? Does the FBI videotape Christian and Jewish funerals? No, only Muslim funerals. Because all Muslims are terrorists."

"But we-"

"Will never be Americans. We will always be Muslims. That is what haunts us, and that is what sustains us. Our religion. Not our country."

"What will do?"

"We will drive to Oklahoma and buy fertilizer."

Abdul turned the car around and drove away.

Scott had never realized how many Muslims lived in Dallas. He had never before represented a Muslim as a lawyer or presided over a case involving Muslims as a judge or lived among Muslims in Highland Park. He had never really noticed them. But they were here. The reporter said there were seventy-seven mosques and fifteen Islamic schools in Dallas. Texas was the steel buckle of the Bible Belt of America. Home of the brave and land of the Baptists. But apparently the state was more diverse than meets the eye. That or he had never looked closely enough. He watched the funeral live on the TV in his chambers. On the screen, a reporter interviewed a Muslim man.

"This boy did nothing, but the American government murdered him. Because America hates Muslims."

"When did you immigrate here?" the reporter asked.

"I was born here."

"You're an American, but you think America hates you?"

"Yes. America hates Islam. Thus, America hates me." He looked directly into the camera. "The end of days is upon us. The end of America is upon you."

The camera panned back to the reporter.

"O-kay."

The station cut to another reporter interviewing a young white girl.

"He seemed like a nice guy, I can't believe he was a terrorist."

"An alleged terrorist," the reporter said.

"Whatever."

And now the reporter interviewed an older white male.

"You're a professor at the University of Texas at Arlington where Aabdar Haddad attended?"

"Yes. He was in my architecture class. We were studying the stadium. It was a case study, not a plot. Aabdar wanted to build sports stadiums. He loved football and baseball. The FBI killed the wrong guy. And if there is a plot to blow up the stadium on Super Bowl Sunday, the real bad guys are still out there."