by Jack Ford
‘Usually I’d say no, because the approach to the camp is totally exposed, but you’ve got the weather on your side. At this time of year, the dust storms feel as if they’ll never end. The visibility will be too bad for anyone in the camp to see you approaching, but that will also be a problem for you. If the dust keeps up, to get your evidence, you’ll probably need to get closer to the camp than you’d really want to.’
Cooper said, ‘If that’s what it takes, then that’s what it takes.’
Moussa smiled. ‘Some people might say that’s the talk of a crazy man.’
‘They might, and God knows, Moussa, in the past they have. But I say, never take on a crazy man who’s got nothing left to lose.’
‘Then, my friend, let us all be filled with crazy together. Let us dance on fear and dance with courage.’
‘It’s too much of a risk, Moussa, you don’t need to do that,’ said Cooper. ‘You’ve been helpful enough.’
‘It was written that our lives should cross. So now we travel as one. Your risk is my risk.’
‘I don’t know, Moussa.’
‘Well I do, Cooper. Let us shake on it.’
Moussa reached out his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, Cooper took it. ‘Are you absolutely sure? It’ll be dangerous.’
To which Moussa said, ‘A ship is always safe at the shore but that is not what it is built for.’
‘Okay, then… And welcome on board… Now all we have to do is figure out the plan.’
Moussa walked towards the entrance of the hut. ‘With the weather as it is I think we should try to head towards the camp as soon as possible. It’ll be the best way. If we wait, the winds might’ve dropped, which means so will the sandstorms. It’ll take us a couple of days to get there in these conditions but then, hopefully, you’ll get your evidence. And, God willing, the weather stays our friend.’
WASHINGTON, D.C.
99
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Ambassador Shaheen sat at the large conference table in steely silence opposite Woods and Lyndon P Clarke. Sipped the sweet, black coffee which matched his immaculate, polished hair. As ever his presence filled the windowless Roosevelt Room with contemptuous disapproval.
The false skylight gave off a dismal hue, which only served to create an even more uncomfortable atmosphere.
‘This seems to be becoming somewhat of a habit, Mr President.’
Woods gestured with his arms. Pulled a face. ‘Humor me, Ambassador, I’m not quite sure if I understand.’
The rigidity of Shaheen’s face was equaled by the stiffness of his manner as he pushed an envelope across the table to Woods. ‘Mr President, once again, I find myself in a state of compromise, but more to the point as do the Emir’s advisors. This situation we find ourselves in is regrettable to say the least, especially as you understand our position on Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad, as a Qatari national.’
‘Ambassador, you have my sympathies when it comes to difficult decisions. As men of the world and men who have families, often what we come across tests all our limits, our inadequacies, our integrity. The core of who we are. And sometimes we succeed, but often we don’t. However, when it comes to this, this situation with Bin Hamad, well, I can’t see what’s difficult… He’s a terrorist, Ambassador, and as of now, he’s become a wanted one again. Thankfully intel seems to have information on his whereabouts. Though that still needs to be corroborated.’
Sucking out the fleck of macadamia nut from his front teeth, Shaheen sighed. Looked at Lyndon. Looked right back at the President and said, ‘In that envelope is what we require. See it as a gesture of goodwill from our country. If you agree, then you have our blessing to take what you feel is the appropriate action against Bin Hamad. However, as is always the case, goodwill comes with clauses… We need your answer by tomorrow morning.’
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In the early hours of the morning, Woods, tired, stressed and longing for sleep, looked around the table at those now present.
A dozen national security advisors.
His chief military advisor, Josh Hawking.
Lyndon P Clarke.
Senator Rubins.
Brent Miller.
Oxygen tank.
Holding the envelope Shaheen had given to him, Woods said, ‘Before this meeting comes to a close, gentlemen, I’d like first to take a minute to thank Brent Miller for the integrity and commitment he’s shown over this matter. Especially as he’s been so unwell. He showed an extraordinary amount of determination to put his own health and convalescence to one side in order to put the safety of this country first.’
A round of applause followed and Brent put up his hand. Took a slug of air. ‘I’m sure any one of us would do the same but thank you for your kind words, Mr President.’
Woods nodded.
‘And now, as we’re all in agreement with the Ambassador’s request, I just want to check the timings with you, Brent.’
‘I imagine as long as there are no unforeseen circumstances, Mr President, which I can’t imagine there will be, I suspect the request can be achieved by… Maybe sixteen hundred hours? Hopefully before,’ Brent said.
Woods turned to the General on his left. ‘And what about the time aspect on the action we’re going to have to take?’
General Hawking cleared his throat. Cleared it again. Took a sip of water and then decided whatever it was tickling the back of his throat wouldn’t clear and, with a croaky voice, he said, ‘I’ve discussed the intel we have with the Joint Special Operations Command and, just before the meeting, I had a quick briefing with Brent. The consensus is as far as we’re all concerned it seems straight forward… I’d say we could be up and running within thirty-six hours.’
‘Then let’s do this, gentlemen,’ said Woods. ‘And let’s make it good.’
101
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‘Hey Coop, it’s Jackson… Come on, man, pick up the phone, dude. I’m worried about you.’
Beau sat on the end of Jackson’s bed. ‘Nothing?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘And he didn’t say where he was going?’
Jackson’s eyes flicked across to the USB key on his desk. He shrugged. ‘No.’
‘Are you not telling me something? Come on, Jackson, unlike the rest of us, you’ve never been good at keeping secrets.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Then why the concern about getting in contact with him? You know what he’s like. He licks his wounds, turns off his phone, but as sure as day follows night, you’ll hear from him… Unless of course you know something I don’t.’
To which Jackson said, ‘Like I say, there’s nothing to tell.’
VIRGINIA, USA
102
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Chuck Harrison walked to his car in the secluded driveway of his house. Looked at his watch.
15.30.
Took a bite from the roast ham, mustard and fried egg baguette his housekeeper had made him. Thought about Harry Gibson. Decided he needed to go and speak to Brent Miller. God, did he just. Then, once he’d done that, he’d speak to Woods. Whether he believed or not. It all began to make sense now.
And satisfied he knew exactly what it was that had been bugging him these last couple of days, Chuck Harrison put the key in the ignition, sending the car up in a ball of orange and yellow flames.
103
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Watching Chuck’s car engulfed in smoke and flames on the screen at the CIA headquarters in Langley, Lyndon P Clarke, standing next to Brent Miller, picked up the phone to President Woods. He simply said, ‘It’s done.’
There was a silence before Woods asked, ‘You think we’ve done the right thing, Lyndon?’
‘I think we’ve done the only thing we could’ve done, Mr President. It was the only way the Qataris would’ve let us go after Bin Hamad. Plus, he was a liability. What else could we have done with him? We couldn’t really lock him away, and we couldn’t really have
him walking about freely. Mr President, this really is the best outcome.’
‘What? That we assassinated one of our own?’
‘But that’s not how the official line is going to be, is it? We’re going to blame it on a lone wolf with affiliations with Boko Haram. Nobody will know different, and it’ll sitwell with the story Chuck gave out about the coffee shop bomber, as well as the suicide bombs in Washington and Denver.’
‘And just like that we leave David Thorpe to rot in a cell in Turkmenistan? The man’s innocent. It makes us as bad as Chuck, which is something he said all along.’
‘Mr President, I understand your feelings about this, but for all intents and purposes David Thorpe is not innocent. He was seen on CCTV by the whole of the world. Driving that truck, then leaving it to explode.’
‘Come on, Lyndon, the guy was doped.’
‘What are we going to do? Suddenly tell everyone in fact he’s innocent? That he was set up by the acting head of CTC, so that he could release Bin Hamad because it was the right thing to do for this country?’
Woods sighed with frustration. ‘I’m not saying that.’
‘With respect sir, that’s exactly what you are saying. If anyone found out what Chuck has done, they’ll want to rip the CIA wide open, and God knows what else they’ll find there. I don’t even want to think about the deals, the operations, the interrogations which go way beyond any red line.’
Woods said nothing.
‘Look, we’ll make sure that he’s comfortable and who knows, in a few years it might be possible to release him and give him a new identity so he can live happily ever after in another country.’
‘Jesus Christ.’
‘Mr President, he isn’t the first person to take a hit like this and he certainly won’t be the last.’
Wryly, the President said, ‘And that’s meant to make it feel better how?’
‘It isn’t and it won’t. David Thorpe is collateral damage and if we blame what happened on Boko Haram then we can stop a bad situation becoming your worst nightmare… They’re an easy group to blame, especially when we say it was a lone wolf who just slipped back into the shadows… The irony is, Chuck would probably approve. He’d undoubtedly see the joke himself.’
‘Goddamnit, Lyndon, I wouldn’t call it a joke.’
‘Mr President, these are things we have to do to keep our country safe. It’s a game of chess and it was our move… As Malcom X and – oddly, given his feelings towards Afro-Americans – as Chuck once also said… by any means necessary.’
WASHINGTON, D.C.
USA
104
Nh6 Kh8
‘Are you okay, Mr President?’
Teddy Adleman stood in the ‘sit’ room down in the basement of the West Wing, looking with concern at his friend, as the milling presence of the National Security Council team surrounded them, and the six flat-screen televisions booted up, preparing for a secure video link. Staff busied themselves coming in and out of the NSC watch room, where officers sat behind two tiers of curved computer terminals, monitoring both classified and unclassified data from around the world.
With dark bags under his eyes, Woods said, ‘I don’t think a couple of hours sleep in thirty-six hours agrees with me. Hey, what can I say? I’m getting old, Teddy. And to tell you the truth, none of this sits comfortably. For me, it’s the worst part of the job… Look, I’m going upstairs to see Jackson. Try to relax for thirty minutes before I’m needed here.’
‘I think that’s a good idea… And John, what you’re doing, no matter how it feels, it’s the right thing to do.’
105
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‘Who you on the phone to?’
Woods put his head round Jackson’s bedroom door.
‘No-one.’
‘That didn’t sound like no-one. Plus, you look suspicious. The same kind of look you had on your face when you’d done something wrong as a kid.’
Jackson got up from the bed and sat in the leather chair in front of his computer. ‘Dad, please, I love you, but I’m not a kid, so if you wouldn’t mind, some kind of privacy would be nice.’
‘Okay.’
‘No, Dad, can you close the door?’
Woods looked at his son warmly. ‘You don’t fancy a chat? I don’t know about you, but I could do with one.’
‘Give me five minutes and I’ll be out.’
‘Okay, I’ll be in my room, but I have to go back downstairs in twenty minutes… You sure you’re okay?’
‘Dad!’
Laughing, Woods put up his hands in surrender. ‘Alright, alright. I’m going.’
*
With the door closed, Jackson stared at the USB key.
Picked up the phone.
Dialled Cooper’s number again.
‘Coop, it’s me… Why aren’t you picking up the phone? What’s happening? I’m worried, okay… Call me when you can.’
Then, with a quick outbreath of nervous energy, knowing he was doing something he shouldn’t, Jackson reached for the USB key, quickly placing it in the side of his computer.
106
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‘Hey Jackson, what’s with the knocking?’ Woods wearily got up from his bed, opening the door for his son. ‘Manners all of a sudden become important to you?’
‘Mr President.’
Woods stopped. Stared at the two secret servicemen, clothed in black and carrying semiautomatic pistols under their jackets.
He frowned. ‘Sorry, I thought it was my son… What’s going on?’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’ve still got fifteen minutes.’
‘Mr President, we have a problem.’
Woods looked from one to another. ‘Which is?’
‘There’s been an alert down in the intelligence management center in the watch room. We’ve just detected activity of concern on the unclassified EOP network. We identified it coming from computer 2316/3. Mr President, we really need to check it to make sure there’s no nefarious activity going on. We’ve shut down that part of the network.’
Woods began to walk down the Executive Residence hallway, followed by one of the secret servicemen. ‘What kind of activity are we talking about?’
‘Sir, that’s classified.’
Woods swiveled round, looking bemused. ‘You’re kidding me?’
‘No sir, until we establish the security threat we aren’t at liberty to say.’
‘For God’s sake Bob, not to put too fine a point on it, you came up into the Executive Residence unannounced, and want to discuss a computer which we use here in our home, and you won’t tell me why?’
Looking as uncomfortable as he felt, Bob Wray said, ‘That’s the point. The activity of concern is coming from a computer which is used exclusively in the residence… It’s just protocol, nothing else.’
‘It’s a good job I can be thick skinned then, isn’t it? Otherwise I might take it personally… How’s the family, anyway?’
‘They’re good, sir.’
‘I’m glad, and I’m looking forward to seeing them all again when we have the next staff barbecue… Come on, it’s down here.’
‘Sir?’
‘Yeah?’
Bob Wray glanced down the hall to make sure Jack Jones, the other secret serviceman, was out of earshot. He spoke quietly to the President. ‘I shouldn’t say this but the data activity we detected is a match for one of our code red targets. It’s highly classified, sir.’
Woods opened Jackson’s door.
‘Jesus, Dad, couldn’t you knock? I said, I’d be out in a minute.’
Without glancing at his son, Woods said, ‘Wait a minute, Jackson… What?’
Bob Wray continued. ‘It’s an exact target match, but this data has come from an outside file. It’s not one of ours, sir.’
Woods turned to look at Jackson who was hurriedly trying to take the USB out of the computer. Then he looked at the screen, and looked back at his son. ‘What the hell are you doing, Jackson? What is it that?’
/>
‘Nothing.’
Woods’ angry voice filled the room as he snatched the USB key out of the computer. ‘Don’t give me nothing. You better start talking. And fast.’
Jackson looked at Bob Wray. ‘There’s nothing to say.’
Woods’ temper exploded. ‘Bullshit! You’re looking at highly classified information. Where did you get it?’
‘I found it.’
This time Woods banged both his fists on the desk. Hard. ‘For God’s sake, Jackson. I need you to give me some answers right now. Do you understand? You’re my son, sitting in the White House, and you’re looking at a highly classified map of where Goddamn terrorists are. What am I supposed to think, hey?’
‘That I found it.’
‘Sir? Sir?’
‘Not now, Goddamnit!’
Wood’s Assistant Chief of Staff, Chris Maple, stood in the bedroom doorway. ‘Sir, I’m sorry, you’re wanted in the sit room. We’re approaching target. ETA, fifteen minutes.’
Bob Wray said, ‘Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to confiscate the computer as well as the USB.’
Woods was enraged. ‘Just take the Goddamn thing, do I look like I care? Jackson, this is not over. You hear me? You have a hell of a lot of questions to answer.’
‘Dad, you can ask me whatever you want, my answer’s the same: I found it.’
‘Sir, we really need to go.’
Woods continued to bellow. ‘I’m coming! Whether it’s the same answer or not, Jackson, that doesn’t make it the truth. Seriously, you need to come up with something better than you found it. Jesus Christ, you’re looking at an operational target match for a terrorist camp for God’s sake.’
Bob Wray put up his hand. ‘Mr President, I’m sorry but I have to stop this conversation, it’s classified information.’
Maple said, ‘Sir, we have to go.’
‘Jesus Christ, I’m coming!… Jackson, I will be back.’