Ring of Fire

by Brad Taylor

  “The Rif has been a hotbed of revolt for over a hundred years, filled with Berbers who are staunchly independent. The Rif name itself is Arabic for ‘the edge of cultivated lands,’ and it has a rich history of rebellion. The people there have fought against the ruling party of Morocco for eons. It’s most famous for kicking Spaniard ass in the 1920s, but the region has a peculiar tie to terrorism in the last few years. People from the Rif did the train bombings in Madrid in 2004. The Paris attacks in 2015, culminating in the Bataclan Theatre massacre, were committed by Moroccans with a heritage in the Rif. Same for the Belgium airport attack in 2016. Moroccans with one foot in the Rif. It’s an area that breeds violence, and the fact that this guy was from there is a definite indicator.”

  Nobody said anything, taking the history lesson in, until Mark Oglethorpe, the secretary of defense, said, “Tell them what you think about further attacks.”

  Kerry nodded and said, “It’s our belief, given the extensive nature of planning and coordination for this attack, that it’s not the only one. This man worked at the shipyard for more than two years, patiently waiting before he was triggered, and he had help from a sophisticated network. In today’s world, we don’t see that anymore. We see lone wolves with rifles or bombs strapped to them, randomly shooting strangers or mowing them down with a truck. This is different and, honestly, scary. Someone placed him there, years ago, for this specific attack, and if that is true, then someone’s been placed somewhere else. The timing of this attack is no coincidence. It wasn’t exact, but September eleventh is now a rallying cry. They’re using ships, not planes, but this hit, in my mind, was the North Tower, and more are coming. And it’s very, very effective. Whoever is doing this isn’t looking for death or propaganda, like ISIS. They’re looking for an economic disaster.”

  Richard said, “What’s that mean?”

  “They know we can’t shut down our ports without catastrophic effects, and they’re attempting to make us do it. And it will be catastrophic. Our trade through shipping is hard to even calculate in monetary dollars, to be honest. Our ports account for fully eight percent of global trade. Billions of dollars would not do it justice, and that’s per day. Right now, because of the attack, we’re on so-called high alert at our ports, but that means little in the real world. We inspect, at best, four out of a hundred containers that pass through. If we try to do one hundred percent, trade will be destroyed. We simply cannot stop the ships coming in without a devastating impact.”

  He rubbed his eyes and said, “To answer your question more pointedly, unless we stop them, they win. Big-time.”

  George Wolffe said, “I thought Congress had mandated a hundred percent inspection rate a while ago. That’s a law, right?”

  “Yeah, it is, since 2006, but they might as well mandate changing the color of the sky. It’s an impossible task. We actually do manage to achieve it in some ports, mainly when the trucks leave, after the ship is unloaded, but it’s too hard to do at our major ports. Business trumps terrorism, so the law has been slow-rolled. Anyway, none of those provisions would have prevented the attack in Houston.”

  Wolffe said, “Who do we think this is? You mentioned a sophisticated apparatus, and I know that al Qaida is resilient and still alive. Is that what we’re seeing here? A resurgent al Qaida?”

  Kerry pursed his lips and said, “That’s the million-dollar question. Karim has no known ties to any terrorist or extremist group. He’s like a ghost that awakened with the capability to destroy an oil tanker. On top of that, no group has claimed credit. It’s one of the most devastating attacks in the history of terrorism, and nobody’s crowing about it.”

  Richard said, “We have no clue? What about a state? Maybe it’s Iran, or even Russia.”

  Kerry said, “We’re looking into that, but at this juncture, we don’t think a state would do such a thing. It’s too great a risk. They can hurt us, but we can destroy them. On top of that, harming our trade harms their trade too.”

  He turned off the monitor. “Having said that, whoever it is has the resources of a state. There’s just no way something this sophisticated could occur without a huge bankroll.”

  40

  Tariq turned from the television news report and said, “Excellent. Exactly what we wanted. Ring of Fire is working.”

  Not nearly as sanguine as his son, Yousef said, “Yes, it was spectacular, but they’ve tied the tanker strike to the drone attack. They’ve identified Anwar. It is only a matter of time before he is caught. We should have never allowed him to do that first strike.”

  “Father, I told you that was the price I had to pay. Anwar is intelligent. Inquisitive. He wasn’t like the usual recruit, simply running from something. I had to negotiate.”

  “I know, I know, but it doesn’t alter what has happened. We didn’t need a bright, inquisitive person. We only needed someone to recognize a ship and dial a phone. Even your ‘intelligent, inquisitive’ man was almost arrested. Where is he now?”

  “He’s in Los Angeles, waiting on the ship Al Salam II. He should be able to remain undetected until it arrives, and then we are through with him.”

  “Can he remain hidden for an additional week?”

  “Why? The ship arrives in three days.”

  “I’ve been informed that it’s delayed because of the Panama Canal. The ship is too big to use the original locks, but planned on going through the new one that recently opened. Apparently, there have been multiple accidents with the new lock, with vessels getting damaged trying to navigate it. They haven’t refined their operational tugboats, and the ship’s captain has determined the management of the canal is unsafe. He’s stopping and offloading the cargo on the Atlantic side, and it will be rail loaded to the Pacific side, then reloaded to a different vessel.”

  Tariq said, “Rail loaded? Can’t you order him to use the canal?”

  “That would be a little unusual. The owner of the shipping firm overriding the decision of an individual ship’s captain for cargo he shouldn’t care about? No, that’s not going to happen. Why does it matter? Can your man remain undetected or not?”

  “Yes, he should be fine. I’ve loaded a different bank account with money, completely severing any ties with Houston, and he has a safe house to live in, but every day is a risk. More importantly, he’s looking for the name of a ship. If the cargo is transloaded, how will we know which vessel it’s on?”

  Yousef pursed his lips, then tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. He said, “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “Can you track the containers? Through the freight forwarder?”

  Yousef toyed with a pen, then said, “It would be strange, but I can get the feeds for the containers. It’ll probably be two separate ships, but I can tell you when they arrive.”

  Tariq nodded, not wanting to antagonize his father, but needing to impress on him how critical the information was. “If the boats don’t arrive at the same time, he could dial the phone and do nothing more than cause an explosion in the middle of the ocean. I need to know exactly when the boat holding that container arrives.”

  His father stood up, his corpulent waist bumping the table, aggravated at the news. He stabbed a finger into the air and said, “Then I need to know what container holds the explosives. I need to know which shipment holds the method of destruction. I tell you over and over that planning is the heart of our success, and now I hear that you don’t even have a plan for a simple shift in shipping. After I’ve run a shipping company for your entire life.”

  Tariq said, “I don’t know that information. I didn’t think I had to. I left that up to Jalal, but I can contact him.”

  His father glared, and then Tariq saw his face soften. He said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak such a thing to my son. I understand the risks you take. I just want to make sure that this time, we do what we set out to do. As the prophet—peace be upon him—said, ‘If
thou comest on them in war, deal with them so as to strike fear in those who are left behind, that they may remember.’ That is what we are doing. Our actions are just, and our will needs to be strong.”

  “Father, we have to be careful. The Americans are still researching the redacted pages about Saudi involvement of our attacks on 9/11. The ones released last year. Nobody has made the connections yet, but they might. The kingdom professes innocence, but make no mistake, the trail is there. We must be circumspect here.”

  Yousef clenched his fists and said, “We were right then, and we are right now. The king is selling out our entire country. Our culture. Maybe we should let it be known that we helped the attack back then. Let it be known that the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is against the West. I’m sick of hiding it.”

  Aghast, Tariq said, “Father, please. You can’t do that. We can’t do that. The king is the king. He supports what we’re doing by his actions around the world.”

  Yousef sat back down and muttered, “The king is a traitor. The entire house of al-Saud is traitorous, and has been for decades. Osama bin Laden was right, and so are we. You will execute our mission. I don’t want to hear excuses like I heard fifteen years ago.”

  Tariq said nothing, not having the courage to agree out loud to what his father had said. Yousef turned away, regaining his composure. He picked up a glass of water and took a sip, as if the words had never been spoken. He said, “What of your Berber friends? Are they still on track?”

  Glad for the change of conversation, Tariq said, “Yes, sir, they are. Jalal is now in Fez, preparing the men for their trip to America. He is strong.”

  Yousef smiled and said, “Good, because I’ve been thinking of our attacks. Thinking of another one.”

  Confused, Tariq said, “What does that mean? Everything is in place.”

  “Yes, it is, but we’re missing the final piece. The same one we missed in 2001. We hit them financially and we hit them militarily, but we missed the greatest blow.”

  Hesitant, Tariq said, “What are you talking about? We’re doing the Ring of Fire. We’re attacking ports around the entire country.”

  Yousef said, “Yes, we are, but I want the one where we hit them at their heart. The one that crashed in Pennsylvania.”

  “Father, there are no ports near Washington, DC. What do you want to strike, the one in Baltimore?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. You saw the attention that mini drone attack garnered.”

  “Yes, but you said that was just symbolic. You disparaged it.”

  Yousef said, “Make sure your drone man in Los Angeles can get out clean. I have something else in mind for him.”

  41

  Inside the Oversight Council meeting, Richard Melbourne exhaled and said, “Well, that was a pretty good scare briefing. How does this information help us?”

  Kerry Bostwick looked at him with disdain but gave him an honest appraisal. “Very little. We have quite a few threads to pull, but nothing is concrete.”

  Kurt had developed an instant dislike for Richard. He was one more blowhard who knew more than anyone else about how to defend the nation, but he did have a point. One that Kurt himself might be able to solve. He said, “The dead guy in Gibraltar is from Morocco?”

  Sensing a lifeline, Kerry said, “Yes. He was.”

  “That’s tracking with what Pike’s finding.”

  President Hannister said, “He’s got a lead from Granada?”

  Kurt tapped his pen on the table, realizing he’d given too much hope. “Not exactly. He’s found a lead that goes to an American drug facilitator in Chefchaouen, Morocco, in the heart of the Rif.”

  The secretary of defense said, “Another drug dealer? Seriously? That’s what Pike’s found?”

  He said, “Yes and no. The person in control of the bank account that started this thread—the bank account that was also tied into the terrorist attack in Nevada—is a Moroccan from Chefchaouen. He’s the leader of the drug ring, but apparently he’s taking some time off. The man we captured in Granada doesn’t know where he is, but his brother does. And he’s in Chefchaouen.”

  Richard said, “So we’re rolling up a drug ring and getting nothing but ghost leads? How long do you expect this to go on? It seems like every time we authorize an Omega operation, all we get is ‘the next one’ is the key.”

  Richard Melbourne was a hedge fund manager who had once been a naval officer and had spent the rest of his life dabbling in politics, advising one administration after another. He’d been brought onto the Oversight Council after the death of President Warren because President Hannister saw in him an ability to cut through the bullshit, but Kurt couldn’t look past the fact that he’d also done an enormous amount of work on President Hannister’s current election campaign. In Kurt’s mind it wasn’t disqualifying, but it was a little smelly.

  Kurt said, “Sir, yes. That’s what I’m telling you. This work isn’t like a movie. You rarely get the smoking gun, or the guy handing you the bomb. You have to follow where the leads go, and in this case, the lead is solid. The man’s name is—”

  Richard cut him off, saying, “We don’t have time for that shit. We need to resolve this problem soon, or the president’s poll numbers are going to tank. We need to be able to hold someone’s head in the air, talking about success. We had the huge bump last year with your work in Poland, but it’s evaporating. Christ, just turn on the television. President Hannister is now being played as the ‘weak on security’ guy, even after the Baltic States stare-down. A position he held absolutely a week ago, and it’s only going to get worse.”

  Kurt said nothing, looking at President Hannister. The president shifted in his chair, uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation. Kurt wondered if his faith had been misplaced; then Hannister spoke.

  “Rich, this room is not a place for politics.”

  He waved his hand around the collected members and said, “This body is not designed to get me elected. It’s designed for one thing: protecting American lives. Kurt does what he does, and he does it with a precision that I, personally, have seen. Please, never bring up my campaign again.”

  Flustered, Richard tried to protest, and Hannister showed Kurt why he deserved to be elected. “Rich, don’t. I appreciate your dedication. Show me the same on a nonpartisan level, or you can wait outside.”

  In the heat of a presidential election, with Hannister being accused of being weak on national security, the entire room saw what was truly important to the man. Kurt was impressed, thinking, You’ve come a long way.

  Hannister looked at Kurt and said, “So, you want Omega to go to Chefchaouen? Is that what I’m hearing?”

  “Yes, sir. I think this next guy will give us the lead we want. I was interrupted before I could give you the best part.” He looked pointedly at Richard but spoke to Kerry Bostwick. “What was the name of the guy found dead in Gibraltar?”

  “Karim al-Khattabi, why?”

  “The leader of the drug ring is named Jalal al-Khattabi, and he’s from the Rif region.” He bored his eyes into Richard’s and said, “Strangely enough, they have the same tribal name. That enough smoke for you, Richard? There’s a Moroccan at the end of this trail, and this guy in Chefchaouen will give him to us.”

  Richard broke eye contact, pretending to scribble notes on the pad to his front. At the head of the conference table, Kerry’s mouth hung open at the news. Kurt winked at him, then turned to President Hannister. “Sir, I’d like Omega for Pike’s team.”

  Hannister smiled and nodded, saying, “I’m inclined. Kerry, your thoughts?”

  “Hell yeah. Get them on it, now.”

  Hannister said, “Let’s put it to a vote.”

  But that was really just a formality. All thirteen Council members voted yes, including Richard. The meeting broke up, and Kurt stood to leave. President Hannister waved him forward. Ku
rt muttered, “Shit,” to George, but went to him.

  President Hannister said, “You caught that bullshit about the election, right?”

  “Yes, sir. Hard to miss. Richard’s a jackass.”

  Hannister laughed, then said, “But he’s right. I won’t use this organization for political purposes, but make no mistake, if these assholes keep killing, the Taskforce is done. It’s ironic, but the death of the Taskforce will happen because of the very terrorists we designed it to hunt, because I won’t be elected if they keep killing. You know that, right?”

  Surprised at how quickly Hannister had changed from threadbare economist to cutthroat candidate, Kurt said, “Of course. Yes. But I can’t make rainbows for you. I can only do what I do.”

  Hannister smiled and said, “Don’t look at me that way. I’m still the same man. The one you helped stop World War Three. I just want that again.”

  Kurt stepped out on a limb and said, “Because you want to get elected?”

  Hannister bristled at the implication, then said, “No. Because I want to prevent American deaths.”

  Kurt said nothing, the tension thick. Hannister broke it, putting his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and saying, “Okay, okay. Yes, I’m in a campaign, and it’s hard to separate what’s right for me and what’s right for America, but this one is easy. Give me what you did in the past.”

  In a monotone, Kurt said, “Yes, sir.”

  Hannister said, “I don’t want a yes-man. I get that from everyone around me.”

  Kurt pointed at Richard and said, “I can’t give you what he wants. I can’t make headlines saving the day. I can only do what I’ve been doing. Sometimes it works out, like Poland, and sometimes it fails, like 9/11.”

  “Kurt, I understand. Just do your best.”

  Kurt nodded, and Alexander Palmer caught the president’s attention, starting to talk about something unrelated. Kurt turned away, and the president of the United States tugged his arm, shutting Palmer down. Kurt paused, and Hannister said, “I meant what I said.”