by Jones, Rick
President Burroughs did not like where this was going.
“There are five people between both departments,” said Hakam, “who possess enough knowledge within their file and rank to start World War Three. These people must be eliminated. However, your government and the Israeli government have made it impossible for us to come close to them to do the job ourselves. Therefore, we intend to blindside them by using their strongest ally against them.”
“You really expect us to go after top-ranking officials within Mossad?”
“If you don’t, then consider the alternative of not complying with my wish, which is the annihilation of the Los Angeles area.”
I will make my enemies destroy each other from within, the president quickly considered. That was their ploy. “And what makes you think I’m going to take you at face value?” he asked, his voice once again taking on an edge. “You may still detonate that device after we comply with your demand.”
“Then we negotiate,” he simply said. “For now I will give you a single target—a female, approximately thirty-eight years of age and a high-ranking member of the Lohamah Psichlogit, who is passing herself off to your government as an Israeli attaché when, in fact, she is working covertly for the LP Division to garner certain information from your intelligence base for Mossad’s personal interest. Interesting how allies spy on each other for their own benefit, don’t you think?”
President Burroughs turned to his CIA Director Doug Craner who shrugged and appeared nonplussed. How could an insurgent know about a possible Mossad agent conducting a covert operation under the noses of its American liaison? That is, if Hakam was telling the truth.
“She’s been an attaché for years with the Israeli embassy,” Craner told Hakam, “and nothing more.”
“Then you know who I’m talking about,” Hakam returned. “For years Imelda Rokach has been gathering information for her country. So I believe her termination will also prove to be a benefit to you as well. It’s amazing how good Mossad really is? How they toy and play with your intelligence.”
Another dig.
“And how do you know this? How do you know Rokach is who you say she is?”
“Simple,” he said. “The death of an attaché is of no importance to the cause of my group; therefore, it would not benefit our situation. Her death, however, would. Otherwise, why would I have the American government assassinate somebody of no importance when I’m in the position to dictate to you as to who I want dispatched and when?”
“And what would her death achieve?”
“She’s a piece of the puzzle,” Hakam answered. “The five members I’m talking about control sensitive knowledge not logged into archives for fear of appropriation. Wipe them out, then you immediately render these Divisions in Mossad impotent until they are able to gather themselves and reconnoiter their position. Once Rokach is out of the way, then the second in command will usurp the position of the first. And that takes time.”
Everybody at the table was quickly mulling this over. The effect it would have over them, this country, and the American people.
“If we do this,” stated the president, “what do you place on the table as a bargaining chip?”
Hakam held up the BlackBerry device. “From here I will disable one of the weapons,” he said.
“And how will I know this?” he asked. “Since you’re thirty thousand feet in the air?”
“Once disabled, then we will make a mid-air transfer. Commit this one assassination, then I will proffer you the disabled weapon as a gesture of good faith. Kill the other four . . . then I will inform you of the location of the second for disarmament.”
“If I kill the other four, which completes the clan of five, then I have no way of knowing if you will keep your word. And why should you? The five people you requested to be killed will be a done deal, which obligates your primary goal. And you’ll still have an active bomb on board, which you may detonate anyway. Not good enough, Hakam. I don’t like the terms of this negotiation. It’s too one sided.”
“If you don’t agree to the terms, Mr. President, then consider the alternative. Which is I will detonate the second weapon and make a part of Los Angeles a scorched landscape.”
“You’re bluffing,” he said. “I don’t think you have that second weapon on the ground at all. I think they’re both on board because your initial intent was to detonate them over D.C.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Careful, thought Thornton.
“Negotiations are to be even handed,” said Burroughs, his voice lifting to heightened anger. “All I’m saying to you is if we perform to your demands, then you have to come up with an alternative to make me believe that you’ll keep your end of the bargain—that you will disable that second weapon.”
“And how do you propose we settle this, Mr. President? We both know if I disable and give you the second weapon, then there’s no way your government will obligate the undertaking of committing the assassinations. The advantage of having the upper hand,” he said, “is just that. It’s an advantage. But if you want me to propose a solution, then here it is. Destroy all five targets, then you shall have my word as a soldier that I will disable the second weapon and hand it over to your government.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me? Your word?”
“That’s it, Mr. President. Take it or suffer the consequences.”
The president hesitated. “Give me ten minutes.”
“You have five.” And then the monitor winked off.
“Son of a bitch!” hollered the president, raking his hands wildly through his hair. “Doug, is he right about Rokach? Is she Lohamah Psichlogit?”
He shrugged.
“How the hell does someone like you hold a top position in the CIA not knowing something like this when a terrorist does?”
“Nothing of this is confirmed, Mr. President.”
“Then tell me this: Why would Hakam have someone like her dispatched, if it wouldn’t benefit their cause like he said?”
Craner appeared uneasy, his voice beginning to shake as he spoke. “I’ll look into it, Mr. President.”
“You damn well better,” he said. “It just makes me wonder how many other spies we have running around in our departments!”
“We have agents in Mossad as well.”
The president glared at him. “So what’s your point, Doug? Because we have spies there they probably have them here. Is that your justification?”
Craner’s face twitched nervously as he looked away and to the papers on the tabletop in front of him. “No, sir.”
“Then get on it. If what Hakam says to be true, then I’m holding you personally responsible. So stop sitting on your thumb and start cleaning house.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
Burroughs stood and appeared clearly agitated. “All right,” he said, “let’s take what he said into consideration. What were Hakam’s key points?”
Thornton read from a page of scribbled notes. “Mr. President, at one point Hakam made mention that Rokach was a piece of the puzzle of five. And if all five members within Mossad are wiped out, then Mossad would be rendered impotent until it was able to gather itself and reconnoiter its position, which could take time.”
“And what does that mean to you, Al?”
“On the surface, I believe from what Hakam was saying is that these five people are the minds of Mossad who literally possess enough information to start a World War . . . Or more likely, to keep one from happening. If we were to take these five out simultaneously, then gates of opportunity would open up for terrorist groups all over the world. We may be able to staunch some of the bleeding, but there’s no way we’d be able to stop the hemorrhaging. Just imagine what would happen if five integral pieces of the intelligence network was taken out. It would be like a communication grid going down at once and leaving us in the dark until everything was back online again. But during the interim while the network is crippled, all
ows an advantage for terrorist cells to advance their causes due to lack of scrutiny . . . We’d be left wide open and the devastation would be incredible.”
“Are you saying that five people on this planet hold the key to possible worldwide ruin?”
“Maybe not worldwide ruin, Mr. President, but enough to open up the national floodgates allowing insurgency groups to run wild on American soil. After Nine-Eleven we had nobody in the Middle East except Israel. And to this day we depend upon them greatly for our information. Without Mossad we never would have achieved what we have thus far for national security.”
“Still, it’s too much power for five people to wield.” The president pressed on. “So what you're saying is that by taking one out it wouldn't be as much of a political detriment as it would be by taking out all five at once?”
“That’s correct, sir. And getting to any of the five, especially those in Israel, would be difficult to do. They’re literally protected as if they were gods, which is why insurgents have yet to endeavor to take them out.”
“So knowing his efforts would prove wasteful, Hakam is forcing his enemies to fight within.”
“Yes, sir. He knows we have the advantage of getting close without drawing suspicion since we’re their key ally. Once we do . . .”
“Then he expects us to pull the trigger.”
“And if we do that,” said Hamilton, “then we will forever alienate ourselves from Mossad and never be trusted by them again.”
“And that would be killing two birds with one stone,” said Burroughs. “Maybe three if he detonates those nukes.”
“Without Mossad we would be left so wide open to terrorist attacks it wouldn’t even be funny. We need Mossad, Mr. President. We simply can’t do this.”
The president sat down with his head bowed, the fingers of his right hand toying with his lower lip as he deliberated. “And the price for not acting would be the loss of LA. There has to be an alternative.”
“I don’t see one, Mr. President,” said Dean.
“The one thing I have always believed in,” the president said, sounding somnolent, “is that there is a solution for everything. We need to look harder.”
Thornton spoke. “Mr. President, Hakam will be back online in two minutes.”
The president stared at the faces of those sitting at the table—at the men, the women, at all the political principals—who were looking at their Commander-in-Chief who, for the moment, was rendered powerless. It was a position none of them cared to be in.
“If Mossad was to lose their attaché at the embassy in DC—”
“Mr. President,” Thornton’s tone was that of incredulity, if not admonishment. “You’re not actually entertaining the idea of having a member of Mossad assassinated, are you? Israel is one of our chief allies!”
The president raised his hand to stop Thornton from saying anything further. “Hakam wants an answer soon and I’ll have to give him one. I certainly can’t tell him that we refuse to go forward with this because we’re a huge fan of Israel. He’ll just drive Shepherd One right into the ground. What I need to do is buy more time. So for now, I’ll tell him exactly what he wants to hear.”
“Which includes the assassination of a Mossad agent?”
“Unfortunately, Ms. Rokach may have to become collateral damage. Since she’s here in the States, it could be made to look like anything but a political killing. Her death would provide us the disablement of a nuclear device and additional time. Mossad would never know the truth.”
Thornton clenched his teeth. Although he hated the idea of compromising with terrorists, he knew the president had no other course of action.
On cue the screen winked on and Hakam’s composed image waited for the president’s answer.
“We will do as you ask,” said Burroughs, “to see if you’re willing to hold onto your faith of good gesture. If we commit to this, then you will disable the weapon and hand it to us by mid-air transfer?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll need five hours.”
“You have three,” he said. “Once Rokach has been removed, then we’ll discuss the terms regarding the remaining four. But if you’re unable to commit to the task at hand, then there’ll be no further reason to discuss additional terms. Los Angeles will become a wasteland and hundreds of thousands will die. You know your target, Mr. President. You have three hours and not a second more.” The screen suddenly went dead.
“I hate it when that son of a bitch cuts me off like that.”
“Are you really going to use Rokach as collateral damage?” asked Hamilton.
“Only as a last resort,” he said. “Right now we have nearly three hours to come up with a solution. Let’s concentrate on that.”
As the president was about to address a team that had already proffered numerous proposals, all of them highly implausible, but propositions nonetheless, an aide placed a manila envelope before the president. Inside were three pages, an intercepted fax, a copy of Shepherd One’s passenger list, and an explanation of the contained documents. It appeared that an email was sent to the Vatican from someone on board the plane, someone not in league with the Muslim Revolutionary Front.
Burroughs couldn’t help but smile, signifying hope. Raising the intercepted email, he said, “People, it appears we have somebody on board Shepherd One.”
#
On the large viewing screen before the president and his team was the printout of the email in high-definition. It was clear, in bold, and at the moment for everyone there, the message was rife with the prospect of hope.
Bonasero:
Shepherd One commandeered by terrorist faction of six; however, one has been terminated and two disabled. At least one bishop is dead. Pope Pius, at least for now, well. Options limited due to being locked in the lower level with no access to upper.
Heightened hostile intent; two nuclear weapons on board!
Enzio flying under duress; family believed to be held captive in Perugia—maybe at the Ponte Felcino Mosque or the old munitions factory on the outskirts. Send the Knights to secure their safe release. Have Leviticus lead the team.
I’ll do what I can from my end. Contact me ASAP.
KIMBALL
“I knew it,” said the president. “I knew both weapons were on board! So that takes care of that question regarding the location of the two remaining devices. Now we need to dissect the rest of the letter. Go ahead, Al.”
Thornton used a laser pen and traced the beam over the lines of the first paragraph with a steady hand. “So far we’ve established that the Bonasero mentioned in this letter is most likely Bonasero Vessucci—who happens to be a highly respected cardinal within the College who is reputed to be the next pope upon the death of Pius. If a vote was conducted today, it’s said that he’d be the strongest consideration.
“Secondly, there’s the mention of the six terrorists on board; however, this Kimball notes that one has been terminated and two are disabled. So the question is: How is that possible? We know six crew members boarded, according to TSA. So how does Hakam lose half his team by the time the plane lifts off; to the time this message is sent?”
“First and foremost,” said the president, “before we get too far, have we confirmed this to be a true interception from Shepherd One?”
“There’s absolutely no doubt. This message came from the Avionics Room, which is located beneath the cockpit. And this gives further credence that this Kimball is locked in the level beneath the main deck, which gives him direct access to the room. Or so I’m told.”
“The problem is,” added Craner, “is that I didn’t see anybody with a first or last name on the passenger list with the name of Kimball.”
“And this makes me wonder if somebody hacked into the system and sent a bogus message.”
Thornton shook his head. “All matters have been investigated by our experts. This message most definitely . . . came . . . from the Avionics Room of Shepherd One.”
T
he president examined the large screen intently. “Then who the hell is this Kimball guy?”
“It has to be a nickname for somebody on the list,” said CIA Director Craner.
The president stood up, his eyes fixed on the screen, his mind in full throttle. “He’s expecting the cardinal to contact him, which means he’s keeping the line active.” He waved his hand as a gesture to gain the attention of everyone at the table. “Send an email immediately,” he said. “Ask this guy who he is and inform him that we need to establish contact. Can we do that with this screen?”
Craner nodded. “We can.”
“Then get to it. I want this guy online in three minutes.”
“Yes, sir. I can have a technician here in less than a minute.”
The president stepped closer to the viewing monitor. Then: “I want to know who this guy is,” he said. “And I want to know why Hakam locked this guy below level to run free rather than to send a team down to eliminate him.”
“Perhaps he did,” said Thornton. “Which may be why one is dead and two others disabled.”
The president nodded incredulously. “I don’t see a priest doing something like that.”
“Maybe he’s not a priest, which is why his name is not on the passenger list.”
The president faced his Chief Advisor. How wonderful it would be to have such an ally on board with the martial skills to take control. “That would be a nice concept, wouldn’t it?”
Thornton shrugged, the gesture denoting an existing possibility.
The president turned back to the screen with his arms folded. “Another thing,” he began. “This Kimball mentions the pilot’s family being held in Perugia. Is there any validity to that?”
“All we know at this point, Mr. President, is the family hasn’t been seen or heard from in the past few days by neighbors or relatives. So there is a possibility of that, yes.”
“And he mentions the Ponte Felcino Mosque.” Everybody at the table knew the mosque and Italy’s crackdown on the rising insurgency there a few years back. “And who are these Knights that he’s referring to?”
