by C. A. James
“Seriously?” asked Sayor.
“She’s right,” said McCaig. “This is deadly serious.”
“Wow, OK then. So again, what’s your plan?” asked Saylor.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve gone after someone powerful and dangerous,” said Christine. “You have to find their weakness and go after that. For these guys, it’s that they can only operate in the dark. We’re going to shine a bright light of publicity into their cave and let the public see what’s really going on. And let me tell you, there are few things more dangerous to politicians than an angry public.”
“Easier said than done,” said Saylor.
“Well, Americans are famous around the world for distrusting their own government. Conspiracy theories are as common as flies on a dead fish. We don’t need a case that will stand up in court, just enough to open a can of worms that our enemies can’t shut again.”
Bashir broke in. “What about me? I’m no journalist. I could be in San Francisco in an hour, and nobody would be the wiser. Maybe I’d be more help there; you know, keep my ear to the ground and stuff.”
“No way, Bashir,” said McCaig. “You have many talents, but lying isn’t one of them. You think you’re just going to go back and chase that credit card hacker, pretend the last twenty-four hours never happened, all the while knowing that the biggest act of treason in the history of your country is days, maybe hours, away?”
“No, probably not,” said Bashir.
“Omar, I need you,” said Christine. “We’re a team, and there are still too many missing pieces in this puzzle. You know a lot.”
“He does,” said Bashir, nodding at McCaig. “But me? I just got here.”
“I need your ideas and your insight. You were there at the bridge. You know Smith. You know more than you think, Omar. And besides that, you’re the best techno whiz I’ve ever seen, and I’m going to need someone who can keep me connected to the Internet in the middle of Cowtown, Montana.”
“I’ll tell you why you’re really going, Bashir,” said Saylor. “I got in trouble a couple of times at Berkeley. Iraq was an immoral war that was being fought on false pretenses. American boys, including a couple friends of mine, were coming back maimed and devastated at what they’d seen and done. So we broke the law and got thrown in jail, because that was the only moral course of action. I think you have that kind of morality too.”
Bashir dropped his head and stared at his plate for a long moment, then looked back at Saylor. “Yeah, I’m going.”
“I have an idea,” said Christine, but the waitress interrupted with a big tray filled with steaming plates of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns. The waitress got everyone’s meal in front of them quickly.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” she asked.
“No, this looks great, Jeanie,” said Saylor.
Christine dug into her meal and was about to take her first bite when McCaig spoke up. “Well? You have an idea?”
Christine’s fork paused in mid air, then she put it down.
“It’s time to go on the offensive. We’re sitting ducks right now. They’ve got us on the run, and that pisses me off.”
Lieutenant General Patterson looked up in surprise as Erica Blackwell burst into his office. She slammed the door behind her.
“You couldn’t knock? Maybe ask my assistant if I’m busy?”
“We’ve got a problem, Jack.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Let me guess. That FBI agent and reporter are saying Zarrabian is alive.”
“Worse. We could handle that. My contact over at NSA set up a nationwide Internet trigger that watches for certain keywords—you know, things people search for on Google and Bing. Last night, someone did a long series of searches for dams and terrorism.”
Patterson sat up. “Well, that’s not good. But it could be anyone, right? Just searching for dams? That’s gotta be common.”
“No, it’s much worse than that. They started searching for types of dams, dam capacities, then how to blow up a dam, then dams and terrorism. And here’s the home run, Jack. They zeroed in on the Fort Peck Dam in Montana.”
“Shit.”
“Once they found that, they did all sorts of related searches, looked at satellite views, street views, the history of the dam, and worst of all, they found a series of articles about how the dam is an ideal target for terrorists and how a terrorist could blow it up.”
“Fuck. OK, you’re right, that’s pretty bad. But again, it could be anyone. Lots of people read those articles.”
“Jack, the search came from a library in a little town called Rio Vista. It’s about a half-hour drive from the general area where McCaig made that phone call to his former FBI partner. You think that’s a coincidence?”
“Not likely.”
“And it was more than one person; at least two, and possibly three or four, were all doing similar searches from the same location. The searches came too fast for it to be one person. And get this: it was late at night, when that library was supposed to be closed. We called the local police and got connected to the cop who was on patrol last night. Real nice guy. He said he’d seen the librarian working late, but nothing unusual; she was by herself. She works late all the time. Then the cop got curious, you know, like what’s up? Why are you asking? Our guy gave him some vague answer about illegal Internet activity, just checking, thanks for your help.”
“And the cop didn’t see anything else?”
“No. He even got out of his car and chatted with the librarian briefly. Didn’t see anything. Then my guy asked the cop if he’d seen anything at all unusual, and the cop said, no not really, but there was an RV parked near the library, which he thought was odd for his little town.”
“So the librarian was definitely there late last night.”
“Right. And there had to be other people there too.”
“We’ve got to assume they’ve found something,” said Patterson.
“We do,” said Blackwell. “But I can’t see how this actually changes anything. What if they guessed it’s Fort Peck. Does it matter?”
Patterson swiveled his chair around and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Blackwell waited for a long minute. He finally turned back.
“Christine Garrett doesn’t have anything solid. It’s just speculation, right?”
“Right.”
“So she can’t go on the air with it.”
“No.”
“And if the attack happens before she goes on the air, then she’ll look stupid if she tries to say she knew about the attack ahead of time, but didn’t report it. Right?”
“Yeah. Right,” she replied.
“She’s got nothing. Just guesses. She won’t go on the air with it. The bitch is smart, really smart. But it won’t do her any good.”
“Hello, I’m Christine Garrett. Welcome to our program. With me today is Colonel Ahmad Zarrabian of the Islamic Republic of Iran Army, also known to most Americans as the terrorist whose team destroyed the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Colonel Zarrabian has agreed to speak to me about one topic only. Normally I would not agree to an interview in which the topic and questions are dictated in advance; however, I am making an exception today. The information that Colonel Zarrabian will reveal is of vital importance to America’s security and to our political process. I should also add that this interview is being conducted in a moving vehicle in an unknown location. Shortly after we conclude this interview, Colonel Zarrabian will disappear once again.
“Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Colonel.”
Zarrabian nodded.
“Colonel, most Americans have all seen the videos and photographs of you and your team as you prepared to destroy the Golden Gate Bridge. One event stands out, and has raised questions everywhere: just before the two Marine helicopters fired at and killed your team, you climbed over the side of the bridge and descended on a rope. Because of this, you are alive today. It looks to many as thou
gh you were trying to escape, to abandon your own team and leave them to die. What do you say to this?”
“It is false. I would never abandon my men.”
“Why did you climb over the railing?”
“We had a small team of seven men. Each man’s job was critical to the success of the mission. Just before the two helicopter gunships arrived, I discovered that one of my team members, a man named Ibrahim, was missing. I spotted a rope tied to the railing of the bridge. When I investigated, I found that Ibrahim had climbed over the railing and lowered himself to a beam on the bridge’s framework. He was using a cell phone to contact someone. I instantly knew that he was a traitor.”
“Why is that?”
“My orders were clear: the men were not to have phones, computers, tablets, not even book readers. We carried no devices that could be tracked or used to send messages. Furthermore, Ibrahim had no opportunity to acquire a cell phone. We remained hidden at all times, and my men had no access to retail stores.”
“So the fact that he had a cell phone meant he had defied your orders?”
“Yes. And that he had an accomplice who left a cell phone where Ibrahim could find it.”
“He knew he would die soon. Perhaps he merely wanted to speak to a loved one one last time.”
“No. He had climbed to a safe place where he wouldn’t be killed by the helicopters. It left no doubt.”
“What did you do?”
“I killed him.”
“Why? Your operation was coming under attack. Shouldn’t you have ignored Ibrahim and focused on your mission?”
“I rarely lose my temper, Ms. Garrett, but in this case I let my emotions rule me. The man betrayed his country and his fellow soldiers. There are few greater sins. He deserved to die.”
“Moments after you killed him, the Marine helicopters fired on your team. You only survived because you had descended Ibrahim’s rope so that you could kill him.”
“Yes.”
“Many viewers will recall that you and I met by chance because I was in a sailing race at that moment and rescued you from the water. Just before you killed Ibrahim, I saw a speedboat below the bridge holding the lower end of Ibrahim’s rope. Can you tell us about that?”
“I would not have been surprised if the United States had discovered our operation and arrested or killed us. That is a risk we took. But this was more. This waiting boat tells me that his escape must have been arranged in far advance. It also shows that Ibrahim betrayed the American people.”
“Betrayed America? How? Wasn’t Ibrahim doing his job by infiltrating your operation?”
“No. Ibrahim was put on our team months ago. We were training in the desert in Arizona, and—”
“You trained here, in America? In Arizona?”
“Yes, in the desert of Arizona. Once Ibrahim had infiltrated our group, your government could have arrested us at any time. They would have found trucks, explosives, and detailed maps and plans. We would have been imprisoned for life.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“You have asked the key question, Ms. Garrett. Why did they wait?”
“And this is why you’ve agreed to this interview, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have an answer? Why did the government wait to arrest you?”
“There can be only one reason: someone in your government wanted a highly public success, one that was widely reported. American intelligence has been too successful at finding and arresting terrorists, and the public is no longer afraid. Funding for the CIA, NSA, and Homeland Security is drying up. American citizens are safe, and they no longer want to pay the taxes that safety requires.
“Imagine if they had arrested us in the night, somewhere deep in the sand dunes of Arizona’s desert. We would have been taken in secret for interrogation, perhaps to Guantanamo Bay, and then locked up forever or simply killed. America would be safe, but the voters would have no appreciation for the excellent intelligence operation that uncovered our operation. Do you remember the old film Superman, starring Christopher Reeve?”
“Superman? Of course,” said Christine. “How is that relevant?”
“There is a scene where a robber shoots at Lois Lane. Superman, disguised as Clark Kent, catches the bullet in his hand and saves Lois Lane’s life. But he cannot reveal his heroism to the beautiful Miss Lane, so he must endure her scorn and contempt.
“This is the same problem your politicians face. Their successes must be secret, and the protection they provide must be invisible. Unlike Superman, who wanted love and admiration, these politicians crave money and power. And they are not getting it.
“This is why your politicians in Washington decided to let us proceed with our mission: to increase fear among the voters.”
“Colonel, are you saying someone in Washington deliberately allowed you to blow up the Golden Gate Bridge for political purposes?”
“Yes and no. Yes, they let us proceed. But no, they did not plan for our operation to succeed. They kept a very close eye on us. They intended to intervene at the last possible moment so that they could kill us on television with the entire nation watching. Ibrahim kept them informed of our every move. Unfortunately for them, things did not go as planned. They, what is your expression? They cut it too close.”
“That is a very strong accusation. You can’t expect us to believe this on your word alone. You could have had many reasons for killing Ibrahim.”
“There is much more evidence that supports my claim. The strongest evidence is the military response. My team researched military bases in California very carefully before we planned this operation. You recall that a Harrier jet arrived first, followed by two Marine SuperCobra gunship helicopters?”
“Yes, of course.”
“There are no aircraft like that stationed anywhere near San Francisco. There are fighter jets near Sacramento and Fresno that could be airborne quickly, but they are not ideal for attacking a bridge. Their missiles could have destroyed the bridge. There are closer air bases, but they only have heavy transport aircraft, not tactical fighters.”
“So where did the Harrier and helicopters come from?”
“A Wasp-class United States Navy helicopter-carrier ship just happened to be passing at the very time of the attack. A few hours earlier or later and they would not have been able to send their aircraft to attack my team.”
“That sounds like very good luck. Why is it evidence of a conspiracy?”
“We planned to carry out our operation and destroy the bridge a week earlier. Ibrahim caused a delay. He damaged some of the electronic detonator equipment, and we had to wait while he repaired it. And when he finally did, he was adamant that we attack the very next day.”
“Again, Colonel, this could just be back luck. A coincidence.”
“I do not believe in coincidences, Ms. Garrett. United States Navy aircraft carriers rarely sail near the American shore. This carrier was only near San Francisco for a few hours as it sailed past on its way north. Ibrahim knew this, and delayed my team until that exact time. There can be no doubt that he knew the navy ship’s schedule, and he knew that it would have armed aircraft ready to launch. There is only possible source for this information: someone in the American military told him.”
“Tell us about the attack on the LNG supertanker in Boston Harbor. Did you know those men?”
“I did. We trained together. Their leader was Jahandar. His rank was the equivalent of your lieutenant.”
“Do you believe the United States Government also allowed them to go forward and killed them at the last minute in order to get publicity?”
“Yes. I knew of their plans. The government claims that an anonymous caller warned them of the operation. This is a lie. I have seen the news stories and analyzed the building. It would have been impossible for anyone on the ground to spot the Lieutenant Jahandar’s men. Only a person in a low-flying aircraft could have seen them, but no aircraft were allowed in the area due to
the security perimeter around the tanker ship. So who called in this anonymous tip? Nobody. Because the someone in your government knew of the attack in advance, and deliberately let it go forward for maximum publicity.”
“That is the end of the questions that were prepared in advance. Do you have anything else to say?”
“That is all. Thank you for conducting this interview.”
“Christ, we’ve got problems, Jack.” Erica Blackwell jabbed the remote control button and the TV screen went dark.
“Bullshit,” said Patterson. “What, they think they’re dealing with kids?” He scoffed. “They got it all wrong. This is a pissant conspiracy theory. Hell, even Nixon would have laughed at these clowns.”
“Jack, that was solid reporting. We can’t shrug this one off.”
“But their theory is completely wrong!”
“It’s not completely wrong. They’ve got some facts.”
“But they missed the key to the whole operation.”
“That’s why you’re the army man and I’m the politician, Jack. Right or wrong, it can still bring down an administration.”
Patterson rolled his eyes.
“You think this is funny?” she asked. “Jack, we’re in trouble here, and all you can do is roll your eyes? This isn’t fucking high school! You’re in the White House, and we’re playing for keeps.”
“Jesus Christ, Erica, don’t be so dramatic,” said Patterson. But a moment later, seeing the fury build in her eyes, he relented. “OK, you’re right, Garret found something and we can’t just ignore it. We’ve got to get in front of this and do damage control.”
“Damned right.”
“So do what you’re so good at. Where do we start?” asked Patterson.
“I think we can do this one by the book. First we’ll go after Garrett herself. Right after that terrorist landed in her boat we started dredging up dirt on her, just in case we needed it. Turns out she’s got a nasty divorce that included an abortion against her husband’s wishes and allegations of infidelity, and he was all too eager to spill it all during a sworn deposition for her lawyers. So we start by leaking that to Fox News, tabloids, talk shows, and the gossip outlets.”