Human Intelligence

by Klaus Marre

  “What if I were to tell you that the attack never could have happened that way? Is that something you would be interested in?” Art said. Although the “Entourage” reference was lost on the matronly editor, he immediately got her undivided attention.

  With each new piece of evidence he presented her with, Strauss got more excited. It was something Art really liked about her. Though she, like him, had seen just about everything in journalism, Strauss still managed to feel enthusiastic about good stories.

  Art showed her the draft article and explained why he wrote it the way we did.

  “I think people can easily find out some of this stuff on their own. For example, I'd be surprised if some blogger hadn't already written about how the demographics don't fit. So we need to get moving soon to get the ball rolling or somebody will beat us to the punch. At the very least, I can take this to the White House and see if we get a response of some sort.”

  “What kind of response are you looking for, Art?”

  “I think just about anything might be useful. I'd like to ask if they had even considered an alternative version of what happened before the bombing. If not, I'd like to know why the FBI couldn't also figure this out, or, if they did, why we haven't been told. And, I would love to get an answer on why all the people with military history were on that bus.”

  “Okay, let's bark up that tree and let me know how it goes.”

  ***

  Art strolled over to the White House, enjoying a beautiful day. Many Washingtonians do not pay much attention to the scores of landmarks they see every day. They were just buildings that caused inconveniences when there were protests or roadblocks. And they served as endpoints for the annoying motorcades that held up traffic several times per day.

  It was even worse for staffers and reporters because for them some of the country's most historically significant buildings were just work places. Back when they still had a weekly touch football game on the National Mall, Art remembered how wide receivers would announce that they would “break toward the House side” or run a “Senate slant.”

  He always tried to maintain the perspective of how awe-inspiring buildings like the White House and the Capitol really were. Art felt the same way now as he walked across Lafayette Park. The entire world always had an eye on this building because many decisions made here would impact everybody on the planet.

  When he reached the gate, he handed over his “hard pass,” the most coveted of press credentials, and was waved through. He walked up the driveway toward the White House and reached the Brady Press Briefing Room. Art saw that it was sparsely populated at this hour and stuck his head into the hallway next to the podium with the president's seal. He caught the attention of some assistant-under-deputy of something or another, and asked the young man to let the press secretary know that Art Kempner was here now.

  Then he sat down in one of the blue chairs and pulled out a copy of the Post. He tried not to have his picture taken while reading the Times. He did that at his home or in the bathroom.

  “Art, buddy, good to see you.”

  It was one of the press secretary's jobs to make reporters like him and, more importantly, his boss. That explained why Kyle Eubanks welcomed Art like a long lost family member and not a guy from work.

  Art returned the greeting.

  “So, what can I do for you?” the press secretary asked.

  “Let's talk in your office.”

  “Okay, I'll lead the way.”

  Art followed Eubanks to his office further in the bowels of the White House. He sat down across from the press secretary's desk and pulled a couple sheets of paper from his shirt pocket.

  “So, Art, what's up?” Eubanks said after closing the door and making it to his desk.

  “I'm working on a story. In my view, it is huge and everything I have found out might only be the beginning. I would normally not write an article in which so many questions remain unanswered, but I think, and my managing editor happens to agree, that the information we already have compels us to run it.

  “And we plan on doing it tomorrow,” Art added.

  “Can you stop with the Chinese water torture and get to the point?” the White House press secretary said. His smile looked a little uneasy now. Press secretaries did not like surprises. They liked to control information.

  “Well, the story basically says that not everything about the bombing last week is what it seems. We have evidence showing that it could not have happened the way people think it did ... and the way the Sweeney administration has been portraying it, by the way.”

  Art laid out his case, trying to stick to the facts and veer as little as possible into the realm of speculation. He also withheld some important pieces of information, not wanting to lay all of his cards on the table.

  “I think there are many questions that need to be answered,” he concluded. “Did anybody in the administration raise doubts about the accepted version of events? If so, what happened? Also, I know that there is no way you'll come back to me with anything on whether there was a covert team on that bus. But I think this administration should ask itself how Hassan al-Zaid managed to target this particular bus, because it certainly looks like he did.”

  Art was certain that, if the administration knew more than it had been letting on, it was unlikely that Kyle Eubanks had those answers. It was just not practical to tell the press secretary anything the public was not supposed to find out. After all, he spoke to reporters all day long and conducted two daily briefings. But Eubanks certainly had access to those who did have the answers. Art needed him to take his questions to some of the top people in government and hopefully somebody would then come back to him.

  “Art, listen to yourself. Covert team? We're still in the middle of an emergency and you want me to figure out if we knew whether the victims of this attack had been on a Blue or Orange Line train?” Eubanks said. “I don't doubt that your research is solid and I admit that some of the stuff you're telling me sounds interesting, but I'm sure there are explanations for this.”

  Art was not prepared for that reaction. Obviously, it was part of the press secretary's job to downplay any story that could shed a negative light on the administration but the reporter hadn't expected the press secretary to be this combative. The fact was that he simply caught Eubanks in a bad moment. For a solid week, the press secretary had been forced to defend the administration's actions in the aftermath of the bombing and it was fraying his nerves. Art's inquiry had just come at a bad time, and served the press secretary as a valve to finally be able to release some of the pressure that had been building up.

  “Do you want me to walk into a National Security Council meeting and say 'Hey, I know you're talking about the latest as-Sirat video and how we can find the terrorists, but could I just get everybody's attention? Whoever knows about the covert ops team that was on Metro 2405, could you please let me know what's going on with that'?

  “Seriously, Art,” Eubanks added. “This sounds like it could come from some conspiracy theory blog or something. Missing video cameras and bus demographics? Again, I'm sure there is an explanation for all of this. Are you actually surprised that Metro equipment isn't working or that a station lost power?”

  “Kyle, my information is solid and there is a bunch more stuff I'm not telling you. You know me. I'd never come to you with this stuff unless I knew there was a story.”

  “I'm sorry, it's just been a really long week and, as you know, we're not looking too good,” Eubanks said, sounding more exhausted than combative now. “How about this: I'll take the first part of your question to some people and we'll take it from there.”

  ***

  What happened next really surprised the White House press secretary. He had shot off an e-mail to his FBI counterpart saying: “You're going to hate me for this and I know it sounds like something from way out there, but Art Kempner from the Post is planning to run with a story that not everything about the bombing is what it seems.
He has some evidence and wanted to know whether, as part of the investigation, the FBI ever looked at the possibility that this happened differently from what we thought. Particularly with regard to how people got on the bus and where they came from before that.”

  The FBI press secretary opened the e-mail two minutes later. He happened to be at a meeting with top Bureau officials that was just concluding and mentioned its contents to the group, which included FBI Director Stevenson. Stevenson said he would deal with this himself and asked them not to worry or talk about the e-mail.

  When the room was empty, the FBI Director called President Sweeney, pulled him out of a call with a foreign leader and told him about the problem. The president immediately called for Kyle Eubanks.

  Now, just over ten minutes after having sent the e-mail, the White House press secretary stepped into the Oval Office. The president wasted no time.

  “I need to know exactly what Art Kempner said.”

  The press secretary was baffled. “Mr. President, how did you ...”

  “There is really no time for that, Kyle,” Jack Sweeney said. “I need to know everything that happened.”

  His press secretary gave the president a brief rundown of the conversation. He could tell that the commander-in-chief was not at all pleased with what he was hearing. At the end of the report, Sweeney let out a deep sigh and said: “Fuck.”

  It was the first time Eubanks had ever heard his boss swear. He didn't like it one bit and wondered if he had somehow screwed up.

  “Okay, that'll be all. Don't talk to anybody else about this.”

  Sweeney waved his press secretary out with one hand and with the other he already reached for the phone.

  “Get me McClintock.”

  It took a second for the DNI to get on the phone.

  “We're screwed, the dam has burst,” Sweeney said and explained.

  They both knew that time was running out on Pathfinder, even if they managed to plug this leak. They had reached the kind of territory in which their window of opportunity would be closed in hours, not days.

  Wednesday, 12:53 pm ET

  The fancy world clock on McClintock's desk showed that it was 12:53 in Washington, and 22:53 in Pakistan. Then it didn't show anything because the DNI had picked it up and flung it at the wall on the opposite side of the office, where it disintegrated with a pop.

  McClintock let out an obscenity-laced tirade that made his secretary in the next room blush.

  It was all going to unravel and time was running out for Pathfinder. It was not just the Washington Post story. Even if they could do something about that, there would be another and then another.

  McClintock's gut feeling, which rarely was wrong, told him that they would have only hours to find Hassan before the mission would blow up in their faces.

  He had felt so good about Pathfinder a couple of weeks ago. Hassan was brimming with confidence that had transferred to the other team members. The DNI could only imagine what he was feeling now, alone among enemies, more and more aware that help would not come. They had failed this brave young man.

  McClintock also thought about the fallout that was sure to follow. It would be a big, ugly political mess. He was close to retirement and could weather a storm. Of course, the DNI was worried about the president. He had admired Jack Sweeney's courage to authorize a mission that, if unsuccessful, could destroy his presidency.

  But Sweeney had not blinked when deciding to go ahead with deceiving his entire country in order to take a shot at as-Sirat. He knew all other approaches had not worked and time was slipping away. With the political climate having changed in Pakistan and it being about to change in Afghanistan as well, this was the last best opportunity to try to deal a fatal blow to the terrorist network.

  In McClintock's view, the president should be commended for his decisions, not condemned, even if the mission would end up a disaster.

  The DNI chastised himself for thinking along those lines. There was no evidence yet that Pathfinder had already failed. As far as he knew, Hassan was still alive and still trying to make the mission a success. He should do the same. Unless there was incontrovertible evidence that there was no hope, he would do everything in his power to prevent Pathfinder from failing.

  McClintock called the team in Islamabad, informed the men of the bad news and ordered them to move toward Zhob. Then he placed calls to the heads of the different surveillance agencies, telling them to squeeze everything they could out of their staffs.

  Wednesday, 1:35 pm ET

  The phone rang and Art Kempner picked up.

  “Art, you have visitors,” the receptionist said. “They are in conference room B.”

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “Some guys from the White House.”

  Kempner quickly made his way through the newsroom, trying to figure out who had made the way to the Washington Post Building. When he opened the door to the conference room, he saw that his managing editor, White House chief of staff Jared Watkins and a couple of Secret Service agents were waiting for him.

  “Both of you, please come with us,” Watkins said. “We have a car waiting in the garage. Let's take the back stairs.”

  The quintet made its way to the basement, with Kempner wondering what the hell was going on. The White House chief of staff didn't often make house calls. When they got to the garage, a couple of large, black SUVs were waiting for them.

  “I'm going to have to search both of you for weapons,” one of the Secret Service agents said to Kempner and Strauss. Just then, the door to one of the cars opened.

  “I don't think that will be necessary, Matt. We are here as guests and I don't think Mr. Kempner and Ms. Strauss would try to harm us … at least not intentionally.”

  “Of course not, Mr. President,” the agent said.

  The veteran reporter had seen many things but he was speechless now as he was staring at President Sweeney in the parking garage of his office.

  “Please, join me in the car,” Sweeney said. “We have the area mostly sealed off but we also can't afford to risk being too visible.

  “Besides,” he added with a smile. “I wouldn't want any of my political opponents to barge in on us. They already think I'm too close to the press.”

  Kempner and Strauss got into the spacious SUV and sat down in a row of seats facing the president.

  “First of all, for now this conversation is off the record, is that clear?”

  The reporter and his editor nodded.

  “Mr. Kempner, I understand you contacted my press office earlier today about an article you are working on. I further understand that this story is slated to run tomorrow and would raise some questions about last week's bombing. Is that correct?”

  The president paused until Kempner nodded again.

  “I'm here to give you answers to some of the questions you probably have,” Sweeney continued. “More importantly, I'm here to try to convince both of you to not run that story tomorrow.

  “Since I don't have a great deal of time, let me be as frank as possible. Hassan al-Zaid didn't kill anybody on that bus. He is not a terrorist and there was no terrorist attack. What the world witnessed was an act of heroism by patriotic Americans, most of whom sacrificed the last months of their lives for their country. As I'm telling you this, another, Hassan al-Zaid, is putting his own life in the gravest of dangers in defense of the United States. At least I pray that he is still alive.”

  The president handed a document to the stunned Kempner.

  “This is an outline of something called 'Operation Pathfinder.' You may read it as I am speaking but the document cannot leave the vehicle and it is also off the record for now,” Sweeney continued.

  “I originally authorized the mission in my first term. Basically, Pathfinder is a staged terrorist attack that allows us to place an asset deep within as-Sirat with the aim of letting us deal a serious blow to the group's leadership.

  “I gave the final green light afte
r it had become clear that the situations in Afghanistan and Pakistan were not turning in our favor. If Pathfinder is not successful, we have to anticipate that as-Sirat will emerge stronger than ever and quickly become our most serious national security threat since the fall of the Soviet Union.

  “At first, everything went according to plan. The attack hurt nobody. The people on the bus were all terminally ill volunteers and they took something that killed them painlessly before the explosive device we planted went off. There was no doubt in anybody's mind as to who was responsible for the attack, thus giving Hassan access to as-Sirat. Unfortunately, we have lost him. A GPS device we had implanted in Hassan stopped working just prior to the attack and three portable transmitters became useless when all of Hassan's possessions were taken from him after he established contact with as-Sirat.

  “Despite those setbacks, he obviously managed to achieve his objective and we have no indication that his cover has been blown. We also managed to follow him for quite a bit toward his current location, so we have a general idea where Hassan is. Right now, every reconnaissance asset we can spare is monitoring that area in the hopes of finding a sign from Hassan that will lead us to as-Sirat. Though all of the unfortunate setbacks have made Pathfinder somewhat of a long shot, there is still a chance that the mission will succeed.”

  The president squinted and pressed his lips together. His eyes found Kempner's.

  “However, if you run your story, it'll likely create enough doubt about the attack that it will doom the mission and leave the United States more vulnerable. It would also be a death sentence for Hassan al-Zaid, one of the great heroes in this country's history. I'm asking you … no, I am pleading with you not to run that piece tomorrow.

  “If the national security implications are not enough to sway you, I'm willing to sweeten the deal by offering you exclusive access to myself and anybody involved in Pathfinder once the mission is concluded. You, and only you, will get to write the full story and I promise you that we will keep nothing hidden from you.

  “I'm well aware that Pathfinder comes with great political risks for my administration. I have authorized and taken part in the deception of our citizens. It wasn't an easy decision but I still believe it was the best one. The American people may not feel the same way, especially if the mission is ultimately unsuccessful. There is no doubt that my opponents will seize on this and they may push for impeachment. As the last part of our deal, should you agree to hold the story, I will promise you this: If my opponents manage to start a credible impeachment movement, I will give you the exclusive story that I will endorse such a step. You can report that I will publicly lay out every aspect of what I have done with regard to Pathfinder and let the Congress and the American people judge my actions.”