by James Ward
“Sure, Ryall,” Steck replied. “I was just posturing, but it needs to be considered and I do need direction.”
“You will get it shortly, Bob.” Morgan and Lindsley exchanged a look. They would be talking to The State Department and probably to The Man himself.
“Good work, Bob,” declared Morgan. “Let’s talk again tomorrow. Don’t lose the bugger this time.”
“Roche is mine,” said Steck with a grin.
The rest of the call was spent reporting to Steck about the new Canadian connection and progress on other background issues. After it was over the team dispersed. Susan took MacFergus back to the airport for a free ride home courtesy of Uncle Sam. Greg was contacted with the news about Steck’s discovery. Steck went to bed.
Mort Lindsley and Ryall Morgan stayed in Mort’s office, working well into the night with folks at State and Langley. It was truly time to get The Man involved.
After that, they had a long talk about Free Nation and its involvement in this affair. It was decided that they needed to allow their continued assistance to Steck for a few more days. They agreed that in the end, Free Nation’s involvement in the whole affair needed a full criminal investigation.
________
Ajir’s airplane touched down in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan just before dawn. His personal car met the plane on the tarmac, a convenience that had cost him a lot of bribes when it was set up and lots more to maintain. It was far better than trying to get through airport security which was particularly egregious, probably a throwback to the old soviet days. An ordinary traveler would be stopped and searched at least four times and faced passport control from five to eight times in one pass through the facility. The process took three or four hours at best.
The ride from the airport to Ajir International Trading Company’s office and warehouse was very short. The company’s building was a show place. It was part of the new government’s designated industrial expansion area around the airport. Ajir had built it with investment money passed from the UAE to the Turkmen government as part of Abu Dhabi’s program to corner investment in industry. The UAE wanted to be the principal source of capital for Turkmenistan’s rise to economic power predicted for the first half of the twenty-first century.
Ajir spent the morning catching up on commercial correspondence. He summoned his chief body guard Arad Arbabi. They made plans for the upcoming bidder’s visits. This included preferred parking for their airplanes, passage through security, ground transportation to the Presidential Hotel and accommodations in its penthouse area.
At noon, Ajir took his brief case and went to the elevator near the door that separated his offices from the warehouse. He entered the elevator alone and pressed the button for B3, a level 3 stories below the street. The car stopped half way between B2 and B3. A display next to the controls flashed the Russian words Аццесс рестрицтед! Restricted Access! Ajir fished a key from his pocket, inserted it into a slot then turned it clockwise. The car started moving again and stopped at B3 level. He entered a short hallway and passed through another key-access point. This led to a massive vault door with a keypad. He punched in the access code and the door unlatched. Pushing it open, he deposited the gold sack containing The Hand of Mohammed in a small drawer.
“Be safe,” he said to the sack as he closed the drawer.
Late in the day Ajir summoned his car and driver. He called his wife, announcing that he would be home for dinner.
At dinner, he told his wife to begin packing for an extended trip to their luxury vacation home in Dubai. She and the children would have to leave within one week without fail. She gave him an incredulous look, then as a good Muslim wife, lowered her eyes and resigned herself to obey his command.
________
Susan Deet arrived home accompanied by a forensics team from the FBI. They carefully scrutinized every square inch of the front entrance and the living room of her house but found no evidence of an intruder.
Zach Bailey, the leader of the team finally declared the place clean. “Either the intruder was interrupted before having the time to find their objective, or was simply trying to scare you for some reason,” he concluded.
“Well,” said Susan, “the scaring part worked really well.”
________
It was late at night in the Free Nation compound. Randy Pullin and Saleem enjoyed a cup of tea while chatting about the present state of the quest for The Hand of Mohammed.
Pullin studied the photo of Chris Taylor and Paul Roche he had received from Brandt and Grundstrom. Although he had worked for Taylor, he had never met the man. He made a mental note to get the photo reproduced and into the hands of his entire team next morning.
“Saleem,” he said, “I don’t understand the connections between these various factions very well. The Sunnis hate the Shiites. The Shiites hate the Sunnis. Iran is Shiite, yet they support the Taliban who are Sunnis. Al Qaeda is Sunni, yet they support Hezbollah which is Shiite. None of this makes any sense to me.”
Saleem smiled faintly. “Colonel, there is an old Arab saying that goes like this; When your enemy is the enemy of your enemy, he is your friend.”
Pullin looked quizzical. “Explain, please.”
“I do not wish to offend you in any way but I must give you the full truth of this matter,” Saleem started. “What I’m about to tell you emanates from the distorted but firmly believed viewpoint of the modern Islamist. It’s not my opinion, nor that of most Muslims.”
“Go ahead Saleem,” Pullin insisted.
“Okay,” replied Saleem. He stood up and paced as he delivered his message. “There is a new and common enemy for Islamists, be they Shiite or Sunni. That enemy is the United States. The Islamists believe that the United States is the ‘Great Satan’, the evil one, opposed to God and all his laws. From their point of view, the ‘Great Satan” has purposely torn down family values, has fostered immorality as a way of life, is dissolute in drunkenness and debauchery, has allowed the blasphemy of homosexuality to be accepted and even in some quarters exalted, and is vigorously engaged in exporting those fallen values to the world. From a moral standpoint, they believe that the United States is by its very existence, an affront to God.”
“I guess they have never attended church in the Midwest,” Pullin quipped.
“We are not talking about individual God-fearing people,” Saleem responded. “These Islamists do not want their children infected by the perceived ills of the West. They feel constrained by their own laws to fight against such an attack on their values, even to death. And then there is the Jewish problem. There are those Islamists that see Israel as a client of the U.S. But there are also those that see the U.S. as a victim of Israel. They believe that Judaism is the root of all this evil and that it must be destroyed as the first step in resolving it.”
Saleem paused for a moment. Randy was trying to form a counter-argument, but was having trouble putting it all together. Saleem continued, “Now please understand this is not my philosophy. I am just trying to explain the perceptions that exist and why the Islamists are so fanatical.
Next is the Christian problem. Radical Islam believes that they have an obligation to God to either convert infidels to Islam or to kill them off. Any Christian that thinks they can reason with Islamic extremists has only to look at how Christians fared under the yoke of the Turkish Ottoman Empire. The Eastern Christian Church venerates thousands of Christians slaughtered during those times as martyrs. It is saddened by the thousands that caved in and accepted Islam to save their necks.
“So what about this enemy of enemies stuff? Randy asked.
“The point I am trying to make Colonel is that the various factions in Islam are likely to put aside their differences for a time and unite against what they perceive the common and greater enemy. As I mentioned in my briefing, The Hand of Mohammed could provide the focal point or ‘banner’ to unite Islam against the West.”
“Wait a minute,” Pullin said, holding up a hand.
“I thought you said that not all Muslims believe this stuff. Now you just said ALL of Islam, not just the radicals.”
Saleem paused a moment. He wanted the next part of his discourse to be taken in the right context. “The Islamists extreme rhetoric strikes a chord in the heart of every Muslim who has read the Koran. They base their every action on direct quotes from the Koran. Of course I do not wish for some group dynamic to take hold, Colonel but I cannot rule it out completely.”
Saleem paused as the full impact of this sunk in. Randy Pullin now understood it all. “Armageddon,” He simply said.
“Maybe not Armageddon, Colonel but not far from it.” Saleem sat back while a more philosophical look replaced the earnest of the speech he had just made. “Of course if this does not come to pass, then the old differences between Muslims will certainly return to the forefront. Let’s hope they do. I think they have done a lot to keep the whole world from exploding in the past. Bickering amongst the factions may be just the thing that keeps Islam from ruling the whole world.”
CHAPTER 29
Chris Taylor and Paul Roche rode together to the airport in Amman. Now that they knew it was Ajir who had The Hand they had formed a plan. Taylor would go to his office in Tajikistan where he could make arrangements to put agents on the ground in Turkmenistan at Roche’s disposal. Roche would go directly to Ashgabat to survey the situation and form a plan to re-capture the prize.
Tailing them to the airport was a small car and driver. From the back seat Brandt kept an eye on the big Mercedes. It stopped at Gulf Air departures. Roche got out, collected his baggage at the curb and went into the terminal. Brandt was upset that they were apparently splitting up. There was only one of him and now there were two tracks to follow. He figured Roche would be the one heading for the prize itself, so he ordered the driver to wait while he checked inside the terminal. The big Mercedes sped away.
Inside the terminal Roche had lined up for first class check-in on the flight to Ashgabat, through Bucharest. Brandt turned immediately to put his back to Roche. He knew that if he was seen Roche would recognize him, so he trotted outside.
Brandt got in the car shouting to the driver, “Did you see where that black Mercedes went?”
“Yes sir,” the driver replied, pointing. “It’s right over there.”
The Mercedes was stopped at Turkish Air departures. Taylor was standing beside the car, giving instructions to the driver. He took his baggage and strolled into the terminal.
Brandt hustled along the sidewalk to Turkish Air, slipped inside the terminal and watched while Taylor lined up. He was checking in for a flight to Istanbul. There was no telling from the marquee whether that would be his final destination so Brandt edged closer, trying to get within earshot as Taylor reached the agent’s desk.
Brandt was running short of loitering maneuvers and had decided to circle back to the passenger waiting area, when he finally heard the agent say “Dushanbe will be your final destination sir?”
Brandt hustled out of the terminal, got into the car and called Steck on his cell phone. “Roche is heading to Turkmenistan. Taylor is going to Tajikistan. What do you make of that?”
“I don’t know,” was the reply. Steck was puzzled as to why they would split, except perhaps to lay false trails.
Charlie West was late for work, so Bob called to one of the assistant agents. “Hey George, what assets do we have on the ground in Tajikistan and Turkmenistan?”
“None that I know of Bob, those are tough areas. Try contacting our bureau in Kyrgyzstan. Maybe they have some ideas.”
Steck needed help. ‘Follow Roche,’ he thought. Charlie West would know how to get some help in Turkmenistan. “George, could you ring Charlie and ask him when he can get here?” Steck was somewhat annoyed at Charlie’s absence.
“I called his apartment a few minutes ago,” George replied. “There was no answer. He’s probably on his way here.”
Steck acknowledged George with a wave then went back to work on his information tree. He sifted through the facts again and again for anything he might be missing.
Steck’s secure email program beeped. There was a message from Ryall Morgan. In it there was new information for the tree. First, Ajir was a big shot in international trade, mostly in the region of Iran, Turkey, Turkmenistan, Northern Iraq and the surrounding states. The home office of Ajir’s trading company was in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan. He had flown recently to Mosul, then to Ashgabat but would soon be going to Teheran, according to intercepted aircraft radio traffic. There would be a briefing with The Man tomorrow and a new email as soon as practical.
Steck went to his computer and began tapping-in the newly received information. “Where’s Charlie?” he shouted to those in the room. “I really need him.” When there was no response, he turned to the rest of the people in the room. “Somebody please go get Charlie, right away!”
Two men left Anwhar Trading Company and jogged the two blocks to Charlie West’s apartment. As they arrived, Charlie’s wife and children were just emerging from a hired car that brought them home from an overnight visit to some friends just outside Amman. She froze when she recognized two of Charlie’s agents hustling towards her front door.
“Good day, Missus West,” said one of them, “Where’s Charlie?”
“At work,” she replied. Fear spread over her face just as it had many times before. She had never become used to having an agent as a husband. She gathered the two children to her, hugging them tight. “I spoke with him on the telephone early this morning,” she offered. “He said he was going to the office.” Her voice was shaky.
The man stopped between the West family and the door. He reached out his hand. “May I have the key, ma’am?”
She fished it out of her pocketbook and handed it to him. “My God,” she said, moving toward the door. Then remembering the children she stepped back and added, “Yes, would you please?”
The agent took the key and entered the building. He returned moments later.
“Missus West, I think you may want to take the children to the park.” She flashed alarm. He turned to the other agent. “Ravi, please take the children to the park for a walk.”
As soon as Ravi and the children were out of sight, the agent took Missus West’s arm. “Is he alive?” she said shaking.
He took her other arm, holding her up. “No ma’am.” She fainted into his arms.
_________
Twenty minutes later Steck and others arrived. Ravi sat comforting Missus West in the sitting room off her kitchen. She was sobbing and disconsolate.
The CIA team had already concluded that Charlie had been leaving the apartment; probably just opening the door when he was attacked. There was little evidence of a struggle. His assailant had somehow gotten behind Charlie and simply snapped his neck. Death had come quickly.
Steck recognized the M.O. This was clearly the work of Paul Roche. He figured that Roche had paid Charlie this visit on his way to the airport this morning. He reckoned that given the chance, Roche would have done the same to him. Steck spent the rest of the afternoon helping out with arrangements and catering to the family. He felt terrible for them. He made arrangements for Charlie’s wife and children to accompany his remains back to Virginia in a U.S. Government plane. It was the least the ‘company’ could do for a man who had given his life in service of America.
As crass as it seemed to Bob Steck at the moment, his primary job now was succession at the Amman bureau and continuation of Operation Retrieve. After contact with Langley, it was decided that Ravi Monsour, Charlie’s former second in command would take over the Amman bureau on an interim basis until a successor was chosen. Ravi was a fine officer and patriot, a Yale grad with middle-eastern family background. He had served his country with distinction in the Gulf War then stayed on at Langley as a specialist on the Arab countries. He was well connected and the CIA’s best hope for continuation of Charlie West’s excellent work on the ground in Amman. Steck figured he would be
the top candidate for an eventual permanent assignment as bureau chief.
By the end of the day Steck had arranged for three agents to slip into Turkmenistan from the U.S. base in Kyrgyzstan. They would pose as cotton merchants on a buying trip. “At least that gets us boots on the ground,” he related to Ravi and the rest of the Operation Retrieve team.
A load of information, mostly records of commercial transactions had been assembled on Ajir and his trading company. The information tree was growing rapidly and becoming more focused. They knew who had the object. Now they needed to figure out his plan.
Gunny Grundstrom and Brandt had slipped out during the early evening to file a report with Colonel Randy. They returned with some food from a local restaurant, offering Steck his pick. He chose a sort of bean and rice mixture and a Pepsi. The three made small talk as the food dwindled.
“So guys, how’s my buddy Randy Pullin doing today?” Steck suddenly said. His tone became all business.
Grundstrom smiled broadly. “Oh, he’s fine, sends his best regards. He has lots of assets in this region. He told me to tell you it’s all at your disposal.” Grundstrom spoke non-chalantly as if they were all one family. Brandt just studied his food.
“Have you any assets in Turkmenistan?” Bob asked half seriously.
“No we don’t but there’s a plan.” Grundstrom frowned, realizing he might have gone too far.
Steck wondered what to do with these two. His inclination would normally have been to cut them loose. They already knew too much about this operation and would only get deeper involved as it moved forward. On the one hand he needed their help and advice. On the other, he may have already violated national security.
“What plan?” Bob asked. “Don’t you hold back on me Gunny, I have been right up front with you all along.”
“I think it’s time you and Colonel Randy had a chat,” Grundstrom replied. “How ‘bout I arrange that tomorrow?”