Brad Taylor - Enemy of Mine

He paused. President Warren said, “And?”

“And let me launch the Taskforce guys from Tunisia.”

The president leaned back, a half-smile on his face. Kurt continued. “The Oversight Council has already approved it. The only difference is our purpose for going. It’s the same country, same threats, same method of infiltration.”

“Kurt, please. The only thing ‘different’ is the primary reason for the approval. Now that Pike’s safe, there’s no justification to launch. We should go back to the Council.”

“Sir, they’re going to say no, and we’re going to lose the one lead we have. Lucas Kane is a proven killer, and we have no idea what identity he’s traveling under. If we don’t get on this quickly, he’ll disappear again. Best case, we simply lose an opportunity to bring him to justice. Worst case, we’re standing over the body of a dead Mideast envoy. And your peace process is in the gutter.”

“My, my, how attitudes change. I remember when you used to be the one demanding Oversight Council approval on everything. Now, you want to duck them.”

Kurt shook his head. “No, sir. Not duck. They’ve already given approval for the three members to deploy, so I’m just stretching it a little bit. They don’t have to know Pike’s safe until after the launch. Then, they’re already on the ground. I want oversight, but by a competent body. Let the Taskforce get something done in Lebanon, and it will give the Council a little confidence in our abilities. Right now, they’re a bunch of handwringers.”

President Warren considered for a second, then nodded. “Okay. Get ’em into Lebanon and see if you can get a handle on Lucas. But they don’t do anything else without Council approval, understood?”

Kurt said, “Yes, sir,” and waited to be dismissed. Instead, the president rotated around in his chair and gazed out the Oval Office window again.

“You think this cash giveaway is doing anything for the peace process? You think it’s a good idea?”

A couple of years ago Kurt would have been completely taken aback by the question, but he’d grown accustomed to the president asking him things that had nothing to do with the Taskforce. While they both understood their respective positions, the truth was the president liked bouncing ideas off of Kurt. Trusted him as a man outside the political machine, and thus a person who could give an opinion that wasn’t tainted by whatever poll was in vogue at the time.

Kurt didn’t want to admit it, but he enjoyed the role of trusted confidant, even when the questions were outside his expertise. He had learned to caveat his answers if he felt he was leading the administration down a road about which he had no knowledge. Something else he knew the president respected. In this case, achieving peace within the Levant, he had more knowledge on the topic than ninety percent of the “experts” out there.

“I think any attempt at a reconciliation between the Palestinians and the Israelis is a good thing. Solve that problem, and you put a damper on every other issue in the region. Long-term, that is. In the short term, it will cause more violence. There are just too many groups who have specific agendas that cannot be met with compromise. And I mean both on the Israeli and the Palestinian side.”

The president returned his attention to Kurt. “That’s not my question. Do you think it’s a good idea to give the Palestinian Authority twenty million dollars? Am I funding terrorism? We have no idea who’s going to get that money.”

Kurt said nothing for a moment, realizing his answer would not be the usual pontification, but instead possibly alter the course of national security. He’d seen it before. A small comment in a roomful of people, then on the news the next day. It had always amazed him how national strategy was often formed more on the words of trusted advisors than the opinions of experts.

“Sir, I don’t think I can judge that. If your folks say it’s a good idea, then I’d go with it.”

“Really? That’s your answer? I could get that from my secretary. I’m not going to change course based on what you say alone. I just want your opinion. Am I about to give twenty million dollars to a terrorist group?”

“Sir…honestly, I don’t think so. Hamas is a terrorist group, and they’ve been funded by Iran for years. A limitless pocket book. They’re in competition with the Palestinian Authority for the support of the people. If Hamas wins that fight, there will be no peace. No way will Israel deal with a group that has a stated goal of the eradication of their country.”

“But if word gets out, I’ll be castrated. How can I overtly state we won’t support any organization that does business with Hamas, then covertly give that same group money?”

Kurt smiled. “That’s why you’re the president, and I’m just a talking head.”

President Warren dropped his pen and shook his head. “Great. Okay. Thanks for that vote of confidence. Getting back to Lebanon, what’s the next course of action?”

“Uhhh…” Kurt said. “Well, I figured you’d be agreeable to the team deploying, so I infiltrated some documents and equipment to Beirut. Pike’s linking up with it as we speak.”

President Warren gave him an incredulous look. “And if I’d said no?”

“Then Pike would have had some passports he would never use. I had to prep early to make this work.” He saw the president’s face darken and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Hey, all I’m trying to do is protect your peace process. What good is the money if the man holding it is slaughtered?”

Jennifer saw a newspaper in Louis Britt’s right hand, the signal that the meeting was safe. She moved straight past the hostess and took a seat at the case officer’s table. Now that they could recognize each other, there was no need for the verbal dance to prove who they were. He went through the mad minute again, ensuring they both understood what to say should they be asked about the meeting at a later date, then passed her a key across the table.

“That’s to a locker at the Charles Helou Bus Station. Inside are the documents and other equipment you asked for.”

“How much equipment? Will I need to bring luggage to conceal it?”

“No, it’s in a backpack already.” He took a drink of water and surprised her with his next statement. “You people have been busy. Taking the fight to the military wing of Hezbollah isn’t the smartest thing I’ve seen, but it is gutsy.”

“Hezbollah? I didn’t think they worked in the refugee camps.”

His turn to be surprised, he said, “Palestinian camp? I’m talking about the killing of the Martyrs Battalion leadership. Hezbollah’s little covert assassination cell.”

“That wasn’t us, but it is something we hope you can help with.” She pulled out the screenshot of Lucas Kane. “We think it was this guy. Your Infidel assassin. Ever seen him before?”

He studied the grainy screenshot, then said, “Nope. Where was it taken?”

She pulled a tablet PC out of her bag and showed him a Google map with the location marked.

He said, “Heart of the Dahiyeh. Headquarters for Hezbollah. If he’s on the Martyrs Battalion payroll, he’s in very, very deep. Nobody will know his name but the top leadership. And like I said, they’re dead now.”

“Yeah. Like I said, we think he killed them.”

He scoffed. “Well, then forget about finding him. He’s already smoked.”

“I’d like to think so, but this guy has a survival instinct that’s on steroids. If anyone could get out of there alive, it would be him. Before things went bad between him and this Martyrs Battalion, they had to be helping him out. Whatever passports or IDs he’s using, they had to have gotten it for him. He’s not traveling on his true passport, we know that.”