by Lee Jackson
Seconds passed, then a minute. No sound of a rock bouncing or hitting the bottom emanated. Klaus looked dumbfounded. He searched to his rear, found another rock, and tossed it in. No sound. He grinned at Mahdy and nodded.
They walked out the mouth of the cave, and Klaus looked around in amazement. The small group had swelled to hundreds, and still more came from pathways stretching along the mountains.
Mahdy grabbed Klaus by the shoulder and indicated the bag on his back. Then he pointed at a flat boulder. Klaus nodded. He sat on the rock, set the bag down, and pulled out the suitcase. Opening it, he removed the metal plate and entered data into the tiny keypad.
While he worked, the leader issued orders to arriving mujahedeen. Many carried long cords of rope. They knotted the ends together. More men arrived and added more rope. Other mujahedeen brought bags filled with freshly collected snow which they piled at the back of the cave, and they kept bringing more.
Klaus finished inputting settings on the bomb. He replaced the metal plate and closed the suitcase. One of the men brought him a cast-iron box. He wrapped the suitcase in several blankets and placed the bundle inside the box.
Two more hours passed. The snow pile in the cave grew until it left only a narrow passage between it and the chimney-hole. Then the men piled more snow in front of the cave. Other men began gathering rocks. Still others rolled in small boulders. Meanwhile, arriving groups brought more rope and joined the cords together at their ends.
Klaus fought down nervous tension. If this works… If not, I might not make it off this mountain alive. He grabbed the closest end of the rope and tied it firmly around the cast-iron box, leaving no chance for it to slip out. He entered the cave.
Mahdy had extended two heavy planks over the lip of the hole. Between them at the far end, he had placed a pulley. He and Klaus worked together to feed the rope through the pulley and secure the iron box containing the bomb to it. They pushed the planks to the middle of the chimney-hole and began lowering the iron box with its deadly contents.
An hour went by. Klaus had to check his watch to keep count, and still the rope segments continued down, the snow pile grew, and the rocks stacked up higher.
Then, the rope went slack. They fed more rope. It drooped into the hole’s darkness. Klaus and Mahdy exchanged glances. Mahdy instructed his men to pull back on the rope. At first doing so was easy. Then the line grew taut. A long line of mujahedeen struggled in unison against the combined weight of all the rope lengths and the bomb at the other end. They pulled back a few feet. Mahdy signaled them to ease it forward. Once again, the rope went slack.
Without waiting to be told, Mahdy commanded the men to start shoveling the snow pile into the chasm. Three hours later, all the snow had been dumped into the hole. Then they dropped in rocks starting with small ones, then larger and larger ones, and finally, the small boulders. When their supply was exhausted, Mahdy shot Klaus a questioning look.
Klaus glanced at his watch. Eight hours had passed since he had set the timer—for eleven hours. Using hand signals, Klaus communicated for everyone to vacate the area—fast.
Klaus and Mahdy’s group stopped in the cave where they had slept the night before. Progress to reach it had been much faster since they rushed downhill. They arrived fifteen minutes before the bomb was timed to detonate.
Twilight settled over the long, curved valley. Standing in the cave’s mouth, Klaus and Mahdy looked along the massive craggy mountains that marked the way they had just come. Klaus estimated their distance at twelve miles.
They felt the bomb blast before they heard it, starting as a gentle tremor but immediately mounting to a violent lurch. A furious wind whirled through the cave and howled its way toward the bomb site. The group sheltered in the mouth of the hollow, all eyes turned toward the craggy peak at the end of the deep canyon.
As they watched, white-hot light burst into the gathering dusk. For a split second, it pulsed brighter and then did it again, sustaining the hue. The mountain appeared to swell momentarily, then sank in on itself. Red-hot sparks flew into the air.
As quickly as it started, the eruption ceased. No mushroom cloud. Then a deep, throaty roar echoed up the canyon. It shook the ground again, and when it abated, a more muted rumble continued as rocks poured down from the mountains on both sides of the canyon.
Mahdy grabbed Klaus’ shoulders and shook him, a huge grin spreading across his face. He raised his voice in a loud cheer, pointed the barrel of his weapon to the skies, and let go a burst of gunfire, its tracers streaming into the night.
“Allahu-Akbar,” he yelled. His men joined in the celebration. Two hoisted Klaus on their shoulders and danced on the floor of the cave. The others joined in shouting “Allahu-Akbar” while firing their weapons into the air.
No one in the group slept that night. Klaus could not understand any of the conversation but guessed that they discussed what this new weapon, delivered into the hands of Allah, would mean to jihad. When dawn broke, they peered outside cautiously and then gazed in awe at the sight they beheld.
A deep layer of boulders had filled the floor of the valley for most of its length. Most impressive was the mountain where they had so laboriously inserted the bomb deep into its belly. A gulch had been slashed into its side from top to bottom. The mountain still had its peak, but it had tipped to one side, and it had been lowered by many meters.
Klaus started his trek back to Riyadh.
36
“There’s been a tremor in the force,” Burly said over the speakerphone.
“What are you talking about?” Atcho replied. Horton arched his eyebrows.
“Sorry. That line fit so perfectly. Have you heard of some seismic event taking place a few countries east of you? We think it was in Afghanistan, but we’re not sure. As best we can pinpoint, the disturbance took place somewhere in the area of Tora Bora. That’s a mountain range near the Pakistan border southeast of Kabul.”
“Why should that interest us?”
“We don’t know that it does. Afghanistan is a political vacuum. Since the Soviets left, there’s no strong national government. It’s become a haven for terrorists and drug traders. The US will have to do something there sooner or later. We’re interested from the sense of leaving no stone unturned in pinning down Klaus.”
“You think he went to Afghanistan to detonate one of his bombs? Why would he do that?”
“We’re keeping all options open. An unexplained tremor of some significance took place. There aren’t a lot of seismic sensors in that part of the world. China and India have some. Pakistan too. It was their data that clued us in and gave an idea of the probable area. They have people out checking. We haven’t had calls for emergency help and no anecdotal evidence. Maybe it was just a heavy rockslide. I mentioned it to you in case you heard something.”
Atcho sighed. “We’ve heard nothing. Klaus has disappeared from the planet. It’s been four days since we dropped his bombs in the furnace. Those fires will burn a long time, and we can’t always watch everything. He has lots of time and he can detonate at his convenience.”
“Makes sense,” Horton cut in. “He knows we’re onto him. He could either lay low or hit somewhere else. What do you hear from Sofia?”
“She says it’s quiet there. She still has three bad guys watching her. Ivan keeps security tight around her.”
Burly sighed. “We’re in a lull, and we can’t afford to be. We dropped four suitcases in the fire, and as far as we know, none of them were lethal. If that’s the case, then Klaus still has five of them. But here’s the real hickey. He started with only one. He replicated four. He knows what he’s doing now.”
“Let’s assume that Klaus detonated a bomb in Afghanistan,” Atcho interrupted. “Why would he do that somewhere with no strategic advantage?”
“I wouldn’t say that Afghanistan has no strategic advantage,” Burly replied. “It didn’t become the place where empires go to die without good reason. The Mongols fought to a stan
dstill there. Genghis Khan left his progeny. So did Alexander the Great. He was driven back. The Brits lost their mojo there. Most recently the Soviets met their Waterloo and skipped out. No one has ever been able to subjugate the country. It’s Muslim, and a great place for Islamic-fundamentalist terrorists to hang out with local support.”
“Then why would Klaus explode a bomb there?”
“I don’t know. A demonstration? If that’s what it was, it’s the first of his bombs that detonated. All the others were captured, burnt up, sabotaged. He can’t keep claiming he has a lethal weapon if it never performs.”
Horton leaned forward. “That’s got to be it.” His voice gained urgency. “I was an adviser to the mujahedeen fighting the Soviets in Afghanistan. The country’s got a lot of desert and a lot of mountains. Mostly, it’s barren rock. Why it gets fought over so much is beyond me. There’s very little vegetation. Only one province can grow enough produce to sustain the country, but it’s turning to poppy production. A lot of those mountains have caves, especially down in Tora Bora. If they found a mountain with a shaft going down a thousand meters, they could lower a bomb in there. If they could tamp it somehow, the bomb is small enough that it would do damage, but not enough to throw much radiation into the atmosphere.” A fleeting grin crossed his face. “Essentially—now that’s a big word—if Klaus could get that done, it would be like running a poor-man’s underground test explosion. He’d come out of there a hero.”
“What about satellite sensors, or NORAD?” Atcho cut in. “Have they seen anything?”
“The scarce information we have comes from the US Geological Survey,” Burly replied, “and that was received from their counterparts in countries neighboring Afghanistan. One of our smart guys picked up the data and relayed it. There were no aftershocks. No warnings, so as an earthquake, it was anomalous.”
Horton’s brow furrowed. “Burly, you might want to get signal intel to beef up listening in Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, and Berlin—anywhere that the Islamic-fundamentalist networks operate. If that was a successful test, they’d be shouting Allahu-Akbar all over the net. They get careless when they do that.”
“Good thinking,” Burly said. “I’ll get on it.”
Atcho had been quietly listening, deep in thought. “If we go forward assuming Klaus ran a successful test, that begs the question, what will be his next target?”
“We have a good idea,” Burly intoned somberly. “Atcho, we have the war zone sewed up as tight as we can. Time for you to secure your home front.”
“Agreed,” Horton broke in. “Go home, Atcho. I’ll hold the fort here.”
37
Klaus walked into a huge celebration when he returned to Saudi Arabia. Yousef met him at the door of Bandar’s palatial house. Many expensive cars were parked in the large courtyard in front. Music played. Laughter pealed from an inner courtyard. “Habibi!” Yousef exulted. “You did it. You detonated a nuclear bomb. More like that will bring Allah’s vengeance.”
He guided Klaus through a side hall. “This party is officially billed as my niece’s engagement fest. In reality, it is in your honor. Some important people want to meet you.” They moved through the house unseen. “You can clean up in your room. We laid out traditional Saudi clothes for you. Wear them and keep your sunglasses on. We know everyone here. Most guests think this is the engagement party, but treachery is always everywhere. It’s best that only a few know your identity and that you are here. We’ll talk later.”
Late in the evening, Yousef tugged Klaus’ arm. “I mentioned a few people want to meet you. They are in another room.”
Klaus followed. He was tired from his trip. On leaving the cave the morning after the detonation, he had hiked with Mahdy and his group back to the village. He had spent the night there and then retraced his way along the rocky path on horseback to the Beechcraft at the end of the gravel runway in the narrow valley. The pilot had waited there and had flown him out immediately.
He was glad to be back in Saudi Arabia, but still felt the effects of the arduous trek up and down the mountains and the return flight. Now, he only wanted to sleep.
Five men occupied the sitting room where Yousef led him. They sat on low couches with tea servings on tables in front of them and stood when Klaus entered, lining up in a row to shake his hand and kiss his cheeks. Yousef preceded him, introducing him to each man in turn.
At the end of the line, a tall man stood slightly apart. He had a long, deeply tanned face made seemingly longer by a full black beard that fell to his mid-chest. Instead of traditional Saudi garb, he wore long white robes and a dark vest. On his head was a white turban, and he smiled enigmatically. “You have truly done Islam a service,” he told Klaus. “We will talk more. You have the full backing of my al-qaeda.”
Klaus followed Yousef’s example in showing respect. Later, as Yousef showed him back to his room, Klaus said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you well when you introduced me to the last man. Who was he? And what is this al-qaeda?”
“That was Usama bin Laden. I mentioned him to you earlier. He fought with the mujahedeen against the Soviets in Afghanistan. As I told you, he is furious that King Fahd allowed the infidels to base their military on the Saudi Arabian Peninsula. This is sacred ground. They should not be here.
He grimaced angrily and continued. “‘Al-qaeda’ means ‘the database.’ He is growing a loose organization that performs tasks by ability. He keeps track of all the fighters and their actions in a database. He is very wealthy himself and draws huge amounts of contributions from faithful Muslims. You are in his database. It now goes by the name of Al-Qaeda, and he committed to full financial support for you.”
Klaus let the thought settle, uncertain that he understood the full ramifications. “I don’t know what that all means. Does he have to approve my missions now?” His tone expressed lack of enthusiasm for the notion.
Yousef chuckled. “You are a wealthy man in your own right. You can take up any mission you can pay for with no one’s approval. But think of this: you spent more than a third of your fortune by the time we met, and you had not exploded a single bomb. Getting you inside Texas will be expensive. The cost of plutonium will skyrocket because of your successful detonation, and you’ll need someone other than yourself to make regular contact with black-market suppliers. You can do a lot on your own. You can do a lot more with Al-Qaeda.”
Klaus nodded slowly. “What about my project in Texas. Will he support that?”
Yousef laughed. “You have a one-track mind. That’s a good thing for a fighter like you. Never give up.” He chuckled. “To answer your question, yes, he supports your mission. I explained to him who Atcho is, the fight between you, the nature of the target, and what you propose. You go to Texas with the blessing and support of Al-Qaeda.”
Yousef returned to Riyadh that night, and Klaus received a message from him by courier the next morning. “Your travel arrangements are set. You’ll fly back to Tripoli under one identity. Your hawaladar there, Hassan, will help switch you to another alias. Then you go to Venezuela. Your cover will be that you are in the oil business, and from there, you’ll fly into Mexico City. Then, you’ll go on a small plane to an unmarked strip south of the Texas border. Travel will be on private carrier for each leg of your journey with arrangements to bypass customs and immigration. Per your request, we’ve arranged to have observers on both sides of the Texas border. They belong to us. No cartel involved. Brothers are assigned in the US to pick up your shipments and forward them to the address you specified. You are in Allah’s hands. I’ll welcome you back on your return.”
The courier stood waiting while Klaus perused the note. When he had finished, the courier handed him another message from Yousef. “Urgent! I received a call from Kadir in Berlin. The men watching Atcho’s wife reported that she made a trip into Austin yesterday, to the field office of the FBI. Proceed with caution. She might suspect that you’re going there. If so, no doubt Atcho will be warned.”
/> Klaus read the message through twice, and smirked. So much the better. I’ll get them both at the same time.
“I’m glad you haven’t left yet,” Burly said.
“My flight leaves this afternoon,” Atcho replied. “What’s up?”
“After we spoke yesterday, the chatter on the terror networks went nuts. Looks like our assumptions were correct. Klaus—or someone—detonated a nuclear device in the Tora Bora area of Afghanistan. Whoever it was did it just like Horton suggested. They lowered it into a deep chasm in a cave. We’re not sure yet how they damped it. We have a team going in to take a look. But the whole side of that mountain imploded on itself, and the peak came down about thirty to forty meters.” He paused for emphasis. “The terrorists now have a nuclear device, they can reproduce it, and they’re coming our way.”
Silence.
“Atcho, did you hear what I said?”
“I’m thinking. The good news is that now we know what we’re dealing with.”
Horton chimed in. “Sirs, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so, this Klaus just became a world-class badass. He’ll get as much moolah as he wants and traipse around anywhere he has a hankerin’ to. So, what do we do now?”
“Joe,” Burly replied. “You’re now the designated action guy in the Kuwaiti war zone. I’ve already spoken with your boss, and the Pentagon weighed in. The commanders will give highest priority and full support. The Saudis believe in the threat. There is a full-on manhunt for Klaus.
“Atcho, some of the chatter indicates a strike in the West, and Texas has been mentioned. Klaus might hit somewhere else, but he just got promoted to top-dog terrorist and can pick his targets. I have to believe getting you and Sofia is chief on his mind.”