Tony Shallal had “spotted” Yasmin Rabbani’s potential as an asset thirty years earlier in the training camp in Lebanon. She had worked for the British Government in return for citizenship for herself and her two children and had been “active status” on several assignments in the United States with the full cooperation of the American intelligence community. She was modest, forthright, completely respectable and above all, highly efficient. Through a well-connected secretarial agency run by a former CIA analyst, Yasmin had become a legend as well as quite the status symbol when she’d temped as a secretary for the Council of Churches wearing Muslim traditional garb and for a Jewish Relief Organization with Mossad connections, reporting their innermost workings to Shallal. She was owned lock, stock and barrel by British Intelligence. When she entered into any new assignment, she put her best skills to work, thickened her accent and did what she knew best, gather data! As a trusted teacher of women in her local Washington Mosque she had, through her volunteer efforts greatly reduced the secretarial and administrative workload and as a result, she had come to the attention of Amin Zahir, who was a prestigious member of the community. The relationship had taken two and a half years to cultivate and in this time she had taken notes, typed reports, calculated costs for every facet of the mosque’s support to legitimate as well as now in 2001 some very suspicious fundraising activities, at least to the eyes of the British and American Intelligence services.
Yasmin had arranged, under Shallal’s careful instructions, every move leading to Mason Desai’s interview. Her duties included selective processing of recruits, all of whom came to the attention of British Intelligence, and on occasion Israeli agents used on an “exchange” basis. Once she was in place, Shallal had in turn utilized the unfortunate Ayman Almagid to act as the nexus between the Desai and himself. While American Intelligence was familiar with Yasmin as a British asset, they were not above turning a blind eye to her presence if any of the information gleaned by her was shared amongst them as well. It was a cost effective means of scrutiny blanketed by Shallal’s favorite seventies term, “plausible deniability”, in the event of unforeseen circumstances.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTEEN
Wednesday, September 19th 2001
Emily had assembled her list of prospective task force members. Grabbing her coffee, she once more surveyed her report before calling the pre-designated courier to hand carry it over to Tony Shallal in Washington for consideration and submission to his chain of command.
LIAM NEVAN, J.D.
Nationality: Citizen of the Republic of Ireland Residence: Washington D.C.
Occupation: Founder of Navan International Security, currently under contract to The Bethesda Institute, a think tank located in Washington, D.C.
Special skills: Juris Doctorate from Georgetown in International Law. M.S. Computer Science and Software Design. Military Trained. Special Air Services (SAS) Veteran. Served in Falklands, Northern Ireland and Gulf War. Lecturer on Terrorism and Counter-terrorism. Has developed and implemented security strategy for Saudi Arabian Monarchy as well as the Sultan of Brunei. Developed strategy and provided manpower to several African Nations in controlling rebel uprisings. Fluency in Arabic, English, Gaelic, German, French and Spanish.
Special Note: Irish Nobility with “heavyweight” social connections.
See biographic data.
JAMES WELDON JACKSON, PhD
Nationality: U.S. Citizen Residence: Baltimore, Maryland.
Occupation: Department Chair, Criminal Justice. Chesapeake College. Consultant in Terrorism and Counter-terrorism.
Special skills: PhD, Criminal Justice. Former CIA Analyst and Veteran United States Army. Served in Gulf War. Military Intelligence. Has been assigned to Lebanon and Saudi. Published author with media connections.
See biographic data.
SUSANNAH MALEK, PhD, M.D.
Nationality: U.S. Citizen Residence: New York, NY.
Occupation: Criminal Profiler, Psychiatrist. Sr. Consultant to Aspen Medical Center, Psychiatric Services.
Special skills: Former FBI Profiler now runs private consultancy. Lost friends in WTC attack. Jewish with Lebanese Muslim husband who is a physician in private practice (OB/GYN)
See biographic data.
DANA JOHNSON, J.D. International Law
Nationality: U.S. Citizen Residence: Baltimore, Maryland
Occupation: Private Practice and Professor in International Law and Legal Studies, Chesapeake College.
Special skills: Called in as advisor to State Committees on Terrorism, part of a build up on creating state homeland security. Extensive knowledge of deportation issues. Worked for INS as counsel.
See biographic data.
FRANK PEZZONE, Computer specialist
Nationality: U.S. Citizen Residence: Annapolis, Maryland
Occupation: Owner of “Single File Inc.” Specializes in Cybercrime investigations and asset searches. Known to every divorce attorney in the Tri-state area. Computer geek extraordinaire! Self-confessed hacker turned good guy.
See biographic data and client list (informal) attached.
SINEAD O’MALLEY, B.A. Fine Arts, B.A. Criminal Justice
Nationality: U.S. Citizen Residence: Annapolis, Maryland
Occupation: Sculptor, Forensic Art Consultant, and Professor instructing 3D design
Forensic Art Certified. Specializes in facial reconstruction, age progression, image modification, post mortem skull reconstruction, computer altered photography.
See biographic data and “success stories” from law enforcement agencies attached
BIBI GUPTA, PhD, M.D.
Nationality: Afghani with rights to Indian citizenship due to Father’s national origin. Status: Former refugee awaiting U.S. Citizenship. Won political asylum in United States in 1993.
Occupation: Lecturer in Women’s Studies, Islamic Thought and Culture, Women in Terrorism, Editor in Chief and Publisher of “Ariana: The Magazine for Islamic Women in America” Founder of FOISN Free Our Islamic Sisters Now! Featured recently on “60 Minutes and “Frontline” as an outspoken critic of the Taliban Militia.
Special skills: Fluency in Arabic, Pashto, Dari, Farsi, German, French, Russian and English. Worked as GP in Afghanistan during first four years of Taliban rule. Anticipated U.S. Citizenship in six months. Recently informed of inclusion on a Taliban assassination list.
See biographic data and transcripts of interviews attached.
Emily looked at her scribbled notes along with the edited hard copy. She would add Safiya Muhammad’s name for consideration as an assistant. All candidates realized they were subject to intense background scrutiny and must be clearable. As they had all worked independently for intelligence agencies they would be issued interim clearances for this project with the knowledge that their lives would literally be put on hold for its duration. They had been advised that once accepted, their every move would be monitored.
Within forty-eight hours the group would be housed indefinitely on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, not too far from the Wye Research and Education Center at a place named “Persimmon Farm”. The farm just a few miles north east of Cambridge was situated on a multi-million dollar piece of prime Maryland real estate consisting of 180 acres of farmland, a manor house, part of which was built in 1650, along with a cluster of twenty cottages, a conference center, gardens, a commissary, dining hall and a small clinic, as well as a private airport and some of the best equipped stables in the county. The ownership of the property had long been shrouded in secrecy and mountains of paperwork at the Dorchester County Courthouse but Emily had it on good authority that it was leased to the government and knew for a fact that the property was close to a tract of farmland on the Choptank River utilized by the CIA in the fifties. Some referred to the farm as “The Haven” but most, like Emily who had attended a conference in 1996, felt it was a good venue for serious, albeit isolated research and development. Clearly there could be no interruptions.
CHAPTER ONE
HUNDRED FIFTEEN
Friday September 19th, 2001
Maryland was beautiful in autumn, and this day was no exception. The sun was shining brilliantly as Emily drove across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to Maryland’s Eastern Shore. She had beaten the traffic by starting her drive early and what in the winter was a twenty minute leisurely drive could take as long as two hours if bridge traffic was backed up due to the weekend pilgrimage of late vacationers to Ocean City. But in 2001 the 911 tragedy had taken its toll on tourism and eastbound Route 50 at 6.45 a.m. was moving quickly with perhaps twenty or thirty cars ahead of her. She turned left on Church Haven Road and followed it for three more miles until she saw the gate with the dark green sign displaying a tall fruit tree with ripe red fruit on its boughs and white horses prancing underneath. Written upon the sign was “Persimmon Farm” in large red letters. She turned at the sign, noticing the persimmon orchards on the left, and continuing driving down the tree-lined lane until she saw the guard shack. A young marine stepped out smartly, requested identification and checking it against his list, wished her good morning before waving her through. She parked her Mercedes in the general parking lot, noticing that the ten reserved spots were already taken. None of the cars parked seemed familiar to her. Picking up her suitcase, she hoisted her laptop bag over her shoulder and carrying her ancient Bonnie Cashin coach bag in her free hand, she lugged her personal effects over to the Manor House for her “Welcome Packet”.
“Good Morning Professor Cowan. There are messages for you already,” a young, well-dressed woman said handing her three “While You Were Out” notes. The first was from her son, to tell her he was leaving for New York and would be gone all of next week, the second from Harrison who would meet her at the Manor House restaurant that night for dinner and drinks, if permissible and the third from Tony Shallal requesting an urgent meeting before the rest of the group assembled at 9.30 a.m. in the West Room at the Conference Center.
After making arrangements to have the luggage taken to her cottage, feeling confident that it would be customarily searched and snickering to herself that the sexy black lingerie and riding crop she had brought with her purposely would cause a slight commotion amongst the military and intelligence voyeurs, Emily contacted Shallal.
“Morning, Yassir. What can I do for you?”
“I’m going down to the dining hall for breakfast. Would you care to join me?”
“Not particularly, but I suppose I have no choice.”
“Good. See you in a few,” he replied, overlooking her comments as usual.
In the thirty plus years she had known this man, it never ceased to amaze her how he always managed to look as though he had stepped out of the pages of GQ Magazine. He was still extremely handsome and as always, impeccably tailored. His hair was now almost white, his moustache perfectly trimmed, his black eyes looked startled as always, his smile wide and confident. A mirror image of Omar Sharif at his finest, still elegant, still heart-stopping and above all, utterly lethal.
“Breakfast, Amina?”
“Yes, I am rather hungry, thank you.”
“I didn’t have the chance last time to tell you that you haven’t changed much Amina. How is Hallah?”
“Hallah is divorced, successful and as I’m sure you already know works for the NTSB as one of their investigative legal counsels. She’s snotty, brilliant and looks rather like me! She does know that you are her biological father and would like to see you in person I think, probably with criminal intent, but as I said, she’s a lot like her dear old Mummy.”
“Do you have photographs?”
“Of Haley? Possibly. Why?”
“I just want to see her for myself.”
“Here’s one,” she said, getting the photographs of her children out of her purse hidden under her driver’s license and business cards. The photograph showed Haley in cap and gown after receiving her law degree from Georgetown.
“She is very beautiful. Doesn’t look like you at all. Actually she looks like my mother.”
“Sod off, Shallal. You remember my parents surely. You can’t spot the resemblance? Actually Mason and Haley look very similar, same forehead, same smile. Eyes are a little different, as is the hair. Look at this,” she showed another photograph of them with the dogs.”
“Good grief that dog looks like the one you had in Germany. In fact they both do!”
“You mean Yuri? This dog’s his grandson. He’s eleven, his name is Gorby. The younger one is Gorby’s daughter Tanith.”
“They all look like timber wolves to me.”
Emily replied sarcastically, “Well, it takes one to know one. Actually they’re Saarloof Wolf Hounds, A Dutch breed, registered here and used as protection dogs,” she said with a wink, handing him the head and shoulders photograph of Mason. “Note that Mason looks like me as well.”
“Oh nonsense Mina. He’s much too tall to look like your side of the family!”
“I’ll let that pass, Shallal,” she replied, letting the comment wash over her, but intrigued as to how this man who had not seen Mason for well over twenty-five years would know that her son was quite tall, in fact somewhat over six foot three.
“Let’s have breakfast, shall we?”
The pair passed through the corridors and on to the large canteen at the end of the hallway next to the lounge. The place was empty except for Liam Nevan, who waved.
“Friend of yours?” Shallal asked.
“Just my future son-in-law,” she replied with a grin. “Liam Nevan. Just what you’d hoped for, an Anglo-Irish lawyer with a daddy who’s a life peer, complete with a castle as well! Ex SAS to top the lot. I think, in view of your background, it’s poetic bloody justice.”
“He’s the fellow on the task force. Wallace-Terry fawned over the paperwork.”
“Not surprising. Liam Nevan’s dad is a force to be reckoned with as well,” she replied, “Liam is ok. And they’ve just started dating anyway.”
“He’s too old for Hallah.”
“Rubbish Shallal! Haley is almost 30. He’s what? Forty-five? Harrison is seventeen years older than me and we’re very happy.”
She’d ordered two fried eggs, bacon, toast and strawberry jam with a large espresso. Shallal looked at her with his meager yogurt and bowl of strawberries, shaking his head at her order of bacon. She laughed in appreciation of his poor opinion of her large appetite.
“Do you know, Shallal, that it’s a direct result of Haley’s appetite that she’s alive. She was about to go into the part of the Pentagon that was destroyed when she felt pangs of hunger and went to the cafeteria down the hall for extra toast and coffee. Based on that, do not knock the simple things in life, my friend!”
Shallal opened his briefcase and passed her a large brown envelope. “Here’s your agenda and objective. There’s a packet in there for review. You’ll get one each day. I’d like your comments and a report every two or three days. We have put a small research staff at your disposal. There are cars and drivers as well as a courier service to D.C. daily with ‘specials’ on call. You also have access to two people from the Department of the Treasury’s Financial Crimes Network to assist. I’ll leave you to review this. Please get to the conference room by nine fifteen for a warm up.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I’m Emily Cowan. You should all know each other by now. I see you’re all wearing name tags. I of course have the advantage, as I know each of you. You have been selected because each of you has a skill that can, we hope, enhance the position of intelligence gathering for both the British Government and that of the United States. We have been assigned a difficult series of objectives. We are multi-tasking as you can see from our agenda, but in the interest of time and cost-effectiveness we will be relying on several outside agencies for additional information as we go along. They include Britain’s SIS or as it’s often inaccurately referred to as MI6, we have a direct line of communication with Century House, Israel�
��s Ha Mossad, Germany’s BND and BFV, Italy’s DIGOS, France’s DST and OGSE, all of which specialize in Afghan-Arab terror groups.”
Emily dimmed the lights as the PowerPoint presentation began. “The CIA,” she explained, “has absorbed all known information. The ‘link-analysis’ division will be our main source of intelligence because it has already begun to sort through all known connections with other militant organizations involved in fund raising and procurement.” She flicked through lists of known cooperators and continued, “Our first task is to attempt to answer whether al-Qaeda’s network has a complicated source point and if the organization has state sponsors among any of the Gulf States.”
She highlighted the breakdown of CIA reports. “Here are the findings of a recent analysis confirming that money is flowing in from businessmen and politicians. Sadly this is not simply confined to one area. We’re looking not just at Saudi, but also Kuwait and Qatar. Item two shows bin Laden’s known bank accounts which are currently being analyzed in order to check funding and spending. The asset or rather, source of much of this information was recruited by the CIA and was, as I understand it, bin Laden’s Chief Financial Aide in 1997. The CIA got him through Saudi Intelligence. Unfortunately, we do not know why he defected. Having read his report, I believe that he was probably a Saudi ‘mole’ to begin with and was just waiting for the right time to betray bin Laden.”
“Frank,” she said, pointing to Frank Pezzone, “Your contribution to this will be to determine how so many of his funds got through the “asset freeze” imposed by the Clinton Administration in 1998 after the Embassy Bombings in Kenya and Tanzania. I would like you to oversee what the Financial Crimes Network, which will be known to our team as FinCEN, studies already show. You will be assisted, at least for right now by Dr. Bibi Gupta, who among other things has a brilliant understanding of Islamic banking principles. FinCEN has been stymied so far because the Middle Eastern system keeps fewer records and has greater standards of secrecy and privacy than Western banking. I want you to concentrate on different spellings and similar names attached to bank accounts. I understand you are already involved in creating a ‘sniffer’ computer program to probe the systems of European and Middle Eastern Banks to help track funds. The NSA is using tapes of bin Laden’s speeches and entering them into their computer system to check his voice print against what they believe are his cell phone conversations picked up via the “Inmarsat” satellite phone system.”
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