by David Bishop
He was at the designated spot. He tilted and rolled the 55-gallon trash barrel away. The square precast concrete stepping stone below the barrel was loose. He slid it to the side and removed a tin box about the size of half a shoebox. His name in Arabic was written on a piece of white adhesive tape attached to the lid of the tin. He removed its contents, placed the tin box back into the hole, dragged the stepping stone back over it, and rolled the large trash barrel back onto the concrete pad. He walked about a hundred yards to a wooden picnic table, not far from a trail light, and took a closer look at the contents of the tin box.
There was money, held together by a rubber band. Under the rubber band was a cellphone, what appeared to be an automobile key, a new driver’s license and a passport. After looking at the identification, he took off the rubber band and counted five thousand dollars in hundreds. There was more in smaller bills. He didn’t count that, but figured it was at least another thousand. Under the money were three pages of instructions.
Read and do what is on this first page. Do not read further until you have complete privacy. Do not return to your rented home or go to the home of Dorothy Mitchum. Both are being watched. The authorities are looking for you. Your mission has not been discovered, but your identity has. This cannot change your destiny. Do exactly what you are about to read, and you will be protected by Allah. Immediately, remove the SIM card from what has been your cellphone and, at first opportunity, throw the card into a pond. Then throw the phone itself into a different pond. Those who are looking for you have the license number of your moped. The fact they have not yet apprehended you means they have not yet attached a GPS unit. With your cellphone gone, they do not have an electronic method of finding you. You must abandon your moped. Drive it down Marcey Road, angle onto Military Road, and then left onto Old Dominion. Leave your moped in the first major parking lot you come to on Old Dominion. After leaving your moped, don your backpack and walk several blocks farther until you reach a Safeway Supermarket. Outside the market there is a bike rack. Near the bike rack is a used blue Toyota. The license number of the Toyota is written on the back of this page. The enclosed key opens the door and starts the ignition. Use the Toyota to drive to a motel at least ten miles away. Using the name on this new identification, obtain a room for one night. The next day, go to a different motel and repeat the process. Use this cash for all things. Stay in your room until we contact you using this cellphone. Once in the room you choose for tonight, read the remainder of these instructions. Do not use the hotel phone. Do not use the cell for any other calls. Remain ready. Your destiny awaits.
His hands shook as he refolded the three pages. He ran his fingernail along the crease several times to flatten and tighten the pages before putting them in the back pocket of his denim pants.
The authorities know who I am. They’re looking for me.
Chapter 42
Analyst Vanessa Bollen rushed through the doorway of Ryan Testler’s office. “The president is on the phone for you. President Wellington.” Her eyes were big, her brows high. “Well, his office, but he’s due on the line.”
Ryan motioned for her to shut the door. He picked up the phone.
“Ryan Testler.”
“One moment for President Wellington.”
Ryan took out the scratch pad with his notes from his earlier conversation with the president.
“Ryan? Bobby here. I’m getting back to you on what we talked about last time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me take it from the top. The legal eagles say that boarding this boat’s a bit iffy. Same with searching her. Under the PSI, boarding can be justified to interdict WMD. And, while this could involve WMD, our best guess at this point is that whatever the weapon is, it’s likely no longer on the ship. That right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, we can’t swear on an affidavit that we believe the weapon is WMD. We can’t even swear we’re confident it’s still on the ship we want to board. If and when you tell me that you consider that a real possibility, I’ll order a boarding. But, considering it’s now outside our waters and will make no further stops at our ports, it’s unlikely we’ll find whatever it is on board. The ship being in a Brazilian port adds another layer of difficulty. Brazil has not yet signed on PSI. We could use help from Columbia or Panama when the Arimax gets in their waters, but we don’t have the luxury of waiting. You agree?”
“Reluctantly, yes, sir. What about Officer Amman and the shipping company itself?”
“On that score, I’ve got better news. I believe you have people in your office raking through Amman’s trail, so I’ll leave that to you. As for the shipping company, Director Templeton gives them a clean bill of health. The shipping company that owns the Arimax and employs Amman is a Dutch company. I took the liberty of asking the Prime Minister of The Netherlands to intercede with the CEO of the shipping company. He did. The CEO offered his permission to board and search. What do you think?”
“I’m afraid, sir, that would allow the cooperating parties on the ship to alert others that we’re closing in. We don’t need the hunt for this weapon made more difficult.”
“Well, it may come to that if you aren’t able to establish Amman’s guilt and find out more about the weapon. Until we know otherwise, we may well be threatened with WMD.”
“I agree, sir, but first let us talk with Officer Amman and try to keep this quiet until we’ve learned more about the weapon.”
“You’re my quarterback on this so you call the play. But you’d better score a touchdown soon or we’ll have to shift our priority to take the CEO up on his offer to search the ship. You know we’ve got some amazing forensics people. If it’s there, or was there, they may well find enough trace evidence to identify what we’re dealing with.”
“Agreed, sir.”
“Okay. Let me get out of your hair. The CEO of the shipping company is expecting a call from you. He stands ready to assist. Take this down, it’s the CEO’s name and the number for his cellphone.”
“Thank you, sir. I didn’t expect you to take point on that.”
“You think a president is only good at making speeches and rustling paper?”
“No, sir. Not with what I saw you do while you were ambassador in Saudi.”
President Wellington laughed. “Actually, it felt good to get a little hands-on. Don’t forget, based on what you and Director Templeton were saying a few days ago, my ass, which the first lady is very fond of, could be on the line.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President … Bobby.”
“Go get this bastard. Protect all our fannies. And keep me informed.”
Ryan kept his phone in his hand and called Bram DeVries, the CEO of the Dutch shipping company. When Ryan got off the phone, he walked out of his office and called for Agents Blackstone and Dillinger to join him. Ryan kept standing, but told the agents to sit.
“What’s the current status on Cargo Officer Amman, and our person of interest, Faraj Arafa?”
Dillinger spoke first. “The Egyptian hasn’t returned to either the GU campus or his home. I figured you didn’t want an APB out on him, or his picture in the paper and on television. We’ve got eyes hanging around near his haunts on campus. Another agent is in position to watch his home and another to watch Dorothy Mitchum’s place. If the guy shows his face at any of the places we know about, we’ll get ‘im.”
“Clyde, what’s the latest on the container ship?”
“The Arimax has docked in São Paulo, Brazil. Amman is in the Brazilian port of Santos. Our local guys have eyes on him.”
“Is our interrogation team in route?”
“They’ve arrived and are in position. They speak Arabic, and are ready on your order. The agent watching Amman reports he speaks English good enough for us to interrogate him in our language. Probably because of his job. From the report we know Amman sometimes falls back into using Arabic when he’s stressed.”
Testler sat on the corner of his desk, neares
t Blackstone. “Have him picked up in whichever way our Brazilian office recommends. But, if that’s not fast, work up a plan B. We need this guy in custody ASAP. Get him to a secure place and when that’s done, call me. Seeing he speaks English, I wanna talk to Amman myself.”
Chapter 43
An hour later, a call came in from Agent Constance McMasters, the Special Agent in Charge in Brazil.
“Two Brazilian cops took Amman from a dockside bar in São Paulo. They brought him to a secure safe house on the outskirts of São Paulo. I’m here with the two agents you sent down and those two Brazilian detectives. I might add I’ve interfaced with them numerous times. They’re both discreet. I’ve got Amman secure in an adjoining room.”
“No press releases, no reports on this other than to me. Everything else will be handled from this office.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Agent McMasters, I want no opposition to anything you hear me say during the interrogation, or to my instructions prior to it. You are to follow my lead without question. I take full responsibility.”
“Director Templeton has informed me President Wellington has confirmed you are in charge.”
Testler explained to McMasters and the two agents who’d flown down how he wanted to stage the room before Amman entered to be questioned, and how he would play the interrogation. “Call me when you’re ready to get it started.”
Ten minutes passed before McMasters called Testler. “Okay. The trappings are in place. It’s a little over the top. With that said, we’re set.”
“That’s fine. It’s my responsibility. Okay, let’s get this going. Your audio and video are coming in fine. I’ll be able to see him. Bring him in and put him on speaker on the secure line. Position him like we discussed, hands cuffed behind him.”
Amman came in view. “Marhabaan. Marhabaan, he repeated before speaking English. “Hello?”
“Is this Ali Hamdi Amman, born in Ibb, Yemen?”
“Yes. That is me. Who are you?” Amman looked around trying to find the source of the voice speaking to him. “What do you want of me?”
“Kaief halak? Who I am is not important.”
“You speak … are you Yemini?”
“Ghyr muhimin. We have much to discuss if you’re to return to your ship before it sails.”
“Why have you taken me? I am a simple seaman. What do you want?”
“There’s someone here to speak to you. Someone known to you, someone familiar.”
Ryan patched Mr. DeVries into the line. “Go ahead, sir.”
“Cargo Officer Ali Hamdi Amman?”
“Yes?” Amman’s head and shoulders moved as he looked for voices.
“I’m Bram DeVries. Do you recognize my name?”
“Yes, sir. You are number-one man for my employer. The one who bosses all ships and all men.”
“Correct. Do you like you job, Ali? May I call you Ali?”
“Of course, sir. And, yes. I do. I have been with you nearly twenty years, sir. I plan to stay until I retire, sir.”
“Then I order you to talk with these men, openly and honestly. I’m going to leave the phone now. Tell them whatever they want to know. Whatever. To not do so will end your employment in this business. Do you understand me, Ali?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ryan thanked Mr. DeVries, who left the conversation. Ryan turned his attention to Amman.
“Some weeks ago, in Cyprus, you took a substantial bribe to let a container of unknown size be put on the MV Arimax and brought to America. You are to tell me who got you to do this. What was in that container? Is it still on the Arimax? If not, where did you offload it? Who did you give it to, or who will you give it to?”
“I know nothing of what you speak. As I promised, I will cooperate fully, but your words are the first I’ve heard of these things.”
“Ali Hamdi Amman. Please, we have no time. If I report your lies to Mr. DeVries you’ll be out of your job and blackballed in the shipping industry. Of more immediate importance, if you don’t cooperate, you’ll suffer consequences far greater than losing your job. I’ll have the men holding you cut off your thumbs and then your big toes. After that we’ll do the same with the rest of your fingers and toes. In the end, you will tell us the truth or we’ll have you prepared to spend your days begging in the streets of Sanáa, the capital city of your Houthis.”
“But I do not know. I swear.”
“If I thought you were devout, I’d have you swear on the Holy Quran, but we both know that wouldn’t concern you greatly. Were you a true believer, you wouldn’t have secret bank accounts in Switzerland and in The Caymans, where you have nearly one million U. S. dollars, taken through a lifetime of bribes. I could also report this fact to your employer and the Houthi leaders.”
“Please. I am a small man with a large family.”
“Akhrus. Whist! We will begin. To the men with you I say, use the two metal bowls before you. Fill the first with Amman’s fingers, the second with his toes. Amman, before we finish you will tell me what I want to know. Once we remove your right thumb you will only stop me by transferring your million U.S. into my account. If you are not persuaded after we remove your fingers and toes, we’ll render you useless to women such as those you have visited in London and Chicago.”
“Min fadlik ‘atawasal ‘iilayk.”
“Stop begging. It will do you no good. I will either make you a poor, unemployed, blind beggar, or leave you a wealthy man with all your body parts on the way back to your ship as a cargo officer. In two minutes, my men will remove your right thumb.”
Testler went quiet. The agents in Brazil, following Ryan’s earlier instructions also remained silent.
Amman looked at the two bowls on a stainless steel tray, not more than two feet in front of him. Next to the tray was a scalpel, its handle etched in Yemeni words, a bone saw, and a pair of gardening shears lying warm on a white surgical cloth about the size of a baby’s diaper.
At the two-minute point, the local SAIC did as Testler had previously instructed. She handed one bowl to another agent. “Put this on the floor below his right hand.”
The agent took the bowl and carried it around behind the cargo officer, and placed it on the floor below Amman’s cuffed hands.
One of the interrogators sent to Brazil by Testler picked up the scalpel from the cloth in plain sight of Amman and moved around behind him. “This will go easier for you if you stay still.”
When he was in position, he slid the narrow edge of a hidden piece of ice across the base of Amman’s right thumb. Partway across the thumb he paused to let the cold grow intense, the numbness set in, and the melting ice drip into the pan.
“Musaeada. ‘aqul lakum. Stop! Oh, stop. Please.”
Over the next hour, Amman told everything he knew. The SAIC, the interrogators, and the two Brazilian officers listened in Sao Paulo. Testler, Blackstone, and Dillinger watched and listened over the audio-visual feed.
After that, Testler called DeVries to tell him that Amman would not be returning to his ship. Whether he would be charged or let go was still to be determined.
The authorities in Brazil were to lock Amman up. They would hold him in isolation to prevent him from telling anyone what had happened. If the terrorists achieved their goal, Amman would be charged as an accessory to an act of terrorism. Regardless of the current outcome, Ali Hamdi Amman would be taken to the lockup at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, for a complete interrogation.
Chapter 44
Ryan Testler called the president who had pre-cleared all calls from Testler.
“Hello, Ryan. You caught me at my desk. Good news?”
“Mr. President, here’s what we know after talking with the gentleman in Brazil. The cargo officer admits surreptitiously taking aboard a wooden crate around six feet in length, and maybe eighteen inches deep, weight approximately twenty-five to thirty pounds—all his estimates. He didn’t know its contents and didn’t attempt to open it.”
“Do we have an
y guesses as to what it contained?”
“The guesses are endless, but a good one is a MANPAD missile. It doesn’t figure they’d go to the trouble to smuggle in a sniper’s rifle when they are readily available here in the U.S. Besides, we’re certain the Egyptian student is not trained as a sniper. The Middle East is awash in MANPADS, possibly a Russian Igla class, but about a dozen countries make them.”
“Is a MANPAD a favorite weapon of terrorists? Are we looking at an attempt to take down a commercial jet?”
“They’ve been used throughout the Middle East since the 1980s. Closer to home they were used in the month-long 1995 Cenepa War between Ecuador and Peru. And in Rwanda, Chechnya, and other hot spots.”
“So, again, their target of choice could be a commercial jet?” The president’s voice turned monotone. “Your French informer said a VIP target. Lots of them fly in and out of D.C. on scheduled airlines.”
“And plenty of official planes from other countries, not to mention your own Air Force One.”
“Have MANPADS been used here in the U.S.?”
“Not as I recall. However in 2003 when President Bush visited the troops in Baghdad for Thanksgiving, fear of MANPADS was part of the reason for Air Force One’s evasive maneuvers.”
“I recall they used some crazy landing procedures, right?”
“That’s correct. Batteries were removed from all the cellphones on Air Force One. All of the plane’s communications equipment was shut off to avoid leaking an electronic signature. The pilot of Air Force One shut off the plane’s running lights, covered the windows, and didn’t use its call signature of Air Force One. It landed blind and black.”
“Yeah, and the pilot used some maneuver. I recall the name Corkscrew landing.”
“MANPADS are a scourge to air traffic.”
“Okay, so this weapon’s been offloaded, but where is it now?”
“Amman states he lowered it over the side when he received a signal light from a small craft off the coast of Maryland, near Fort Smallwood Park, just south of Riviera Beach. From the description, the crate would float. I’m guessing it had a homing device to help locate it. We have to assume it was fished out and brought ashore by the small craft that signaled Amman aboard the Arimax. As you know, sir, Riviera Beach is within about fifty miles of where you’re sitting.”