by Bob Graham
“And, what happened?”
“Then all hell broke loose. Even our base in Bagram was taking mortar fire, and more of the civilian Afghanis were no-shows because of the threat of roadside bombs on the way to work, and what I guess was an uptick in Taliban intimidation in the villages. And these were the same villages we had retaken just a couple of months earlier.”
Stopped at a traffic light, Rankin squinted into the late-morning light. “I shouldn’t be saying this, but if you have a chance to tell somebody with influence in Washington what a noncom in the field thinks: it’s over. If we had moved even a year ago to get more troops, and I guess they would have come from the troops just sent back to Iraq, it could have made a difference. Those villages would have had some marines embedded with the locals, and they would not have been so scared. Let me tell you, these Taliban play for keeps. They cut the heads off your neighbors’ sons and rape your daughters. That’s not something many locals will stand up to.”
As he accelerated, Rankin became more agitated. “From my grunt viewpoint, it’s too late now. Even if the president wanted to do something different, wanted to send in more troops, it won’t happen. The Taliban will wait us out. They have a saying: ‘The Americans have all the watches; we have all the time.’ I signed up for the Air Force during Vietnam. Afghanistan has the same smell. We need to figure out how we’re going to get out without more of ours getting themselves killed. My service time is almost over, this is my last enlistment, but that’s what I think.”
Colonel Eleanor Hill met the van as it stopped in front of building H. Dressed in her blue uniform and modest jewelry, she was every bit of five feet, ten inches a military professional.
Offering her hand she said, “Mr. Ramos, I am honored you would come from Washington to meet with me. I trust my comments and those of my colleagues will be worth the effort.”
Colonel Hill was the officer recommended to Tony as the most knowledgeable on Osama bin Laden and nuclear bombs. A twenty-five-year veteran of the Air Force and for the last eight years director of planning at the center, Hill had been identified by the small circle of experts in nonproliferation as having a unique grasp of the technology, policy, and geopolitics of weapons of mass destruction, especially nuclear. She had also been strongly recommended by Mark Block, who was aware of Senator Billington’s high opinion of her and their frequent consultations.
Her office was two hundred square feet of military standard order. Other than a photograph of her parents and a younger sister and her Air Force Academy diploma, there were no personal effects.
Colonel Hill had prepared for Tony’s visit. After introductory preliminaries of remembering the senator and expressing shock at the brutality of his death, she turned to the matter at hand.
“Consistently since bin Laden returned to Saudi Arabia from the Sudan, there have been reliable indicators of his future behavior. He does what he says he will do; his words make a difference.” Reaching into her desk drawer she withdrew a binder. “There are those who think his bombasts are just that, over-the-top egotism. We think he is serious, including this recently re-released version of his pre-9/11 fatwa.” Looking down she read:The ruling to kill the Americans and their allies—civilians and military—is an individual duty for every Muslim who can do it in any country in which it is possible to do it, in order to liberate the al-Aqsa Mosque and the holy Mecca Mosque from their grip, and in order for their armies to move out of all the lands of Islam, defeated and unable to threaten any Muslim. This is in accordance with the words of Almighty God, “and fight the pagan all together as they fight you all together,” and “fight them until there is no more tumult or oppression, and there prevail justice and faith in God.”
“His dramatic flair is also expressed in detailed, exhaustive preparations toward the goal of making each future attack more lethal than those before. The track record of U.S. deaths is five in the African embassies, seventeen seamen on the USS Cole, and three thousand in New York City, the Pentagon, and Pennsylvania. He is determined that the next attack will exceed the number of deaths on 9/11.”
His notebook open, Tony made notes on the colonel’s briefing.
She continued, “Maybe his best-known characteristic is tenacity. If the first attack failed to accomplish the mission—on the World Trade Center in 1993 or on the USS The Sullivans at Aden in January 2000—he will retarget for a future operation. He knows his limitations. He does not use force for the traditional reasons of expansion of empire or personal vanity. His goal is chaos—to paralyze the emotional spinal column of the world by inflicting terror, a self-absorbed fear freezing people with the question, ‘What will happen to me?’”
She walked Tony through additional instances in which each of these characteristics was illustrated. “Applying these predictors of future behavior to the facts as you think them to be, bin Laden would use his nuclear material to create several weapons. The number and size would be a function of the amount of nuclear material he controlled. Assuming it was sufficient for at least two or three smaller blasts—for instance, the size of the ones tested by the Pakistanis more than ten years ago, and one weapon significantly larger than the Hiroshima bomb—this is what we believe would be his plan for utilizing the bombs and have so advised the Pentagon: The smaller ones would be used against targets proximate to bin Laden’s base of operations so as to reduce the risk involved in extensive transportation. If he were to use one or both in another country, he would look for the most porous international border crossing to reduce the chance of detection. If bin Laden had unsuccessfully or, by his standards, inadequately attacked a target before, it would be prioritized. He would select a target for maximum global emotional impact and instability, and high kill rate.”
She paused for a sip of water. “These smaller weapon attacks would be done in a particular sequence, such as on the first Friday of successive months, so as to enhance the apprehension of another attack. After each of these blasts he is likely to make demands, demands he knows we could not or would not meet. After the first bomb it might be the removal of all international troops from Iraq and Afghanistan in thirty days; after the second, a repeat of the first demand and also that all foreign aid to Israel be halted and the Israelis evacuate the occupied territories within another thirty days. Or he might not make any demands at all—merely show he is in control.
“The final attack, using a weapon twice as powerful as the previous ones, perhaps more so, would be aimed at us.”
Tony was stunned with what he had heard. “Twice the previous two?”
Colonel Hill nodded. “That would be two to three times Hiroshima and Nagasaki. At Hiroshima, the initial blast killed seventy thousand; at Nagasaki, forty thousand. You can do the math.
“Bin Laden would use the first weapon shortly after he has it in his possession. He would not hold it like the North Koreans, whose goal is to warehouse enough nuclear weapons to deter an enemy. His capability to securely store the weapons is limited; the sooner it is used, the less the danger.”
“Convert that into a calendar prediction,” Tony requested.
“Assuming it is weaponized on receipt or he has the capacity to weaponize it, such as with the designs of A. Q. Khan ...”
Tony’s mind flashed back to Ambassador Talbott’s comments on Sunday. “You mean the Pakistani?”
“Yes, designs Khan provided to the North Koreans—no more than ten days.”
Tony thought, Mission Impossible has become a hell of a lot tougher.
“I don’t think any of the three or four bombs he might have would be delivered on top of a missile. We have no reason to suspect he has access to such a device, but if he did, it would require more time than bin Laden is prepared to wait. But more important, only a fool would send the bomb with his signature on the means of delivery. And whatever you think of him, bin Laden is no fool.”
Tony interrupted. “Isn’t our Star Wars defense based on the assumption that a missile would be the most likely m
eans of delivering the weapon?”
“Mr. Ramos, I am providing you with our best intelligence analysis, not what is politically correct. If the United States is truly committed to a policy of deterrence through maximum retaliation, and our commander-in-chief has repeatedly said we are, the use of a missile with a ‘return address’ would be the ultimate irrationality.”
“Have you told that to the Pentagon?”
“To the uniformed leadership, yes; to the civilians, no. It’s not what they want to hear.”
Tony nodded acceptance of what Colonel Hill had said, and she continued: “Rather, it would be more conventional, a truck or a cargo container. That very conventionality would be an element of its capacity to inflict chaos through trauma.”
“I don’t want to be argumentative, but won’t it be difficult for a bunch of reformed Bedouins living in a cave to almost overnight acquire the logistical sophistication to, for instance, place an enabled nuclear device on a transoceanic cargo ship?”
“The old al-Qaeda was able to plan and execute 9/11. The new, the post-9/11, al-Qaeda is more like a franchise than the hierarchical organization bin Laden led when he had a sanctuary in Afghanistan. General Motors has become McDonald’s. Most likely, the attacks would be carried out through a franchisee, like al-Qaeda on the Arabian Peninsula or al-Shabaab in Somalia, with al-Qaeda Central providing financial and operational support and the weapon. Decentralization makes al-Qaeda more violent, more nimble, able to anticipate and plan around local defenses.”
For two hours, Tony continued to explore the colonel’s projections and analysis, challenging her assumptions. She invited three members of her policy unit to help answer Tony’s questions. Satisfied that Colonel Hill was the real thing, he left her office confident he had the answer to Question One but staggered by the challenges of Question Two: Where are the weapons and how can they be contained within, what—days? hours?
Sergeant Rankin was waiting to drive Tony back to the airport. Tony climbed in the front passenger seat.
As they drove, Tony turned to Rankin. “Sergeant, I’ve spent a lot of my intelligence career analyzing and trying to understand Afghanistan because it was the place from which al-Qaeda launched its attack against us. I concluded that the war in Iraq was a distraction from completing the mission there. In the last couple of years I’ve altered my analysis. My assessment was that the stability of Afghanistan was fundamental to our new national security priority, Pakistan.”
Tony paused to look out the window at this modern city that had been the first capital of the old Confederacy. “I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning, what I just heard from Colonel Hill, and what I learned in Saudi Arabia and Malaysia. Maybe events have circled back with a new end point. We need to get our focus back on al-Qaeda. The reality is that only a few—probably less than a hundred—al-Qaeda operatives are still in Afghanistan. But the war in Afghanistan is soaking up most of our capabilities, and you’ve got a better read on where the war is going than the president and the generals. As we fight it, not just in the north of the country—which is already gone—but eventually all of Afghanistan will be lost. And while we are nailed down there, al-Qaeda is getting stronger. I’m thinking we need a strategy for cutting our losses and refocusing like a laser on al-Qaeda in Pakistan and the other places it has established a beachhead, beginning with Somalia and Yemen.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rankin responded.
Tony’s BlackBerry rang.
“Tony, this is Mark.”
“Yes, my friend, next Tuesday morning is a go, but this time let’s go over to the new courts by the south Capitol metro station. I’ve got a new friend, Air Force sergeant Rankin, who has given me some very valuable insights as to what is happening on the ground in Afghanistan.”
Rankin’s eyes were locked on the airport traffic, as a smile of appreciation rippled across his face.
“I’ll tell you about it after I beat your ass.”
“Tony, this is serious. Are you sitting down?”
“Solid. In the shotgun seat of an Air Force van in Montgomery.”
“Tony, Carol was killed. The Post is just getting the story up on its website, but what they say is that the D.C. cops were contacting her on a report of suspicious activity and found her shot to death in her apartment. They’re not releasing any further information until the medical examiner is finished.”
Tony’s face drained. He felt the air suddenly disappear from his lungs so completely that he gagged, then coughed to recover. He slumped in his seat and moaned.
“You all right, Mr. Ramos?” Sergeant Rankin asked.
Tony did not answer. He could hear Mark calling his name on the BlackBerry he had dropped to the van’s floorboard. Tears, an extremely rare phenomenon for Tony, began to roll down his face.
But then some instinctive force kicked in, learned and cultivated in his special ops days. He knew he couldn’t give in to his grief, not just yet. He had to focus, figure out what to do next. He retrieved the phone and said, “Mark, would you meet me at Reagan? I’ll be there about 7:30 on a Delta flight from Atlanta. Find out as much as you can. And would you get me Carol’s parents’ number? They’re still living in Spring Hill.” Tony’s voice broke. “That’s all I can do now.”
SEPTEMBER 19
New Delhi, India ☆ Islamabad, Pakistan ☆ Longitude
71°7’51.16” East, Latitude 34°9’18.24” North
The Indian prime minister was hosting a reception at the official residence for eight prominent European Union business leaders. With the politeness and refinement of a seasoned political leader, the prime minister chided his guests for their procrastination in following the Americans’ example of surging investment in India. As he recited the comparative economic statistics on investment and trade, an aide delivered a message.
Displeased with the interruption, the prime minister glanced at the note and blanched, a charge of anxiety stiffening his body. Barely able to speak, he muttered to the Europeans, “I have been informed that a device—apparently nuclear—has been detonated in Mumbai. That is all we know as of this moment. I regret I must excuse myself.”
Maulana Fazullah, the new president of Pakistan, who had taken power in the aftermath of the assassination of President Ali Siachen and the ensuing civil eruption, read an email message from New Delhi. The statement, issued by the Indian prime minister within the previous hour, read: “The nation extends its deepest condolences to the thousands of our fellow citizens who have lost their lives in the dastardly attack on Mumbai this day. Their grieving families should know that every resource of our government will be deployed to identify the murderers and bring them to the sternest justice. It is far too early for a final judgment. Yet the relationship between this horrid act and the seizure of power in Pakistan by an extremist and rogue regime is all too apparent to ignore. For the security of the nation, I have placed our military on full alert and have ordered the deployment of twenty-five divisions of the Army to the Pakistani border. Until further notification, the security of the homeland is at Stage Red.”
For a man who had known much violence and bloodshed, Fazullah was stunned. He directed that a call be placed to the Indian prime minister and was informed that there was no emergency, no fail-safe, communication protocol between India and Pakistan.
Turning to the joint chiefs of the Pakistani military services, newly designated following the execution of their predecessors, Fazullah proclaimed, “With Allah as my witness, our hands are clean. We have taken no hostile action against the Indians. But we must protect ourselves. Exercise your authority for our ultimate defense, and ready our missiles for deployment. Command the army to prepare to confront our enemy.”
At the same time, west-northwest of Pakistan’s capital city, the tall man with the stubble of beard was ebullient.
“Even though we committed only the smallest of our three nuclear devices, praise be to Allah, we have accomplished all of our objectives. We have elimi
nated over sixty-thousand of the infidels, twenty times 9/11. Our new partners in Mumbai followed our plan and implemented the attack without a flaw. The idea of using an ambulance as the means of delivering our device was brilliant—learned from our brethren in London—using a modern Trojan horse to gain unobstructed access to our target. The Indians have misread the evidence and are now massing for an attack on Pakistan. The chaos of war is within our reach. The terror of the world is reflected in every nation that has gone to the highest level of alert; the economies of the developed world are teetering. With our oil now at $108 a barrel, our brothers will be able to mount even greater assaults against the enemy. There is panic as to where the next nuclear device will be utilized.”
After a pause sufficient to indicate the leader had concluded his remarks, a younger man using a PowerPoint presentation on an LG screen said, “Our wise leader has directed that the balance of our material be conserved for two additional attacks. He has commanded that the third attack be on the greatest infidel and with the most force. Our leader has determined that on October 10 our second device will be deployed. He will soon inform us as to the target of this attack, thanks be to Allah.”
In the rear of the cave, the only woman in attendance, dressed in a black burka, listened attentively. Her despair over the prospects of indiscriminate violence had now solidified. While many marveled at the ability of arguably the best-known man on earth to avoid detection, she reflected on the changes this isolated and bizarre life had inflicted on him. She had known him when he was the young warrior defending the sovereignty and religion of ancient peoples under assault by a modern industrialized army. He was charismatic, intuitive, romantic; she had personally experienced all of these traits. Now, he was frequently withdrawn, moody, short-tempered, detached.
