Brad Thor - Foreign Influence

Once a potential bomber was ID’d, the nearest team members would go to work. Posing as a tourist taking video of the red-light district with a camera phone, one member would try to get the man’s picture while the other would track him.

The picture would be sent to de Roon’s men on the Sacleipea. If al-Yaqoubi was awake, then he would be shown the picture to help confirm identification. If he wasn’t awake, they were going to be in a lot of trouble.

Assuming al-Yaqoubi would be able to ID the bombers, the rules of engagement became very clear. The target needed to be taken out. The only question was how to do it without starting a panic that would send tourists screaming.

De Roon’s men had come up with a solution that showed strong faith in their snipers. When the sniper was ready to take his shot, the AIVD team tailing the target would close ranks, come up right behind him, and catch him as he was being neutralized.

Harvath didn’t like it. There was too much that could go wrong. If the bombers were walking around buttoned down with a dead-man switch, the minute they released their trigger their device would explode. There was still a chance that any interdiction could happen within sight of the controller, who would then activate the device remotely. According to al-Yaqoubi, the cell phone detonators were sewn into each vest in the back. It wouldn’t be easy to get them out and deactivate them. Therefore, neutralizing the controller was an integral part of their plan.

Despite all of the risks, Martin’s men wanted to go ahead with the operation. Harvath had a tremendous amount of respect for them. They were a tribute to law enforcement officers the world over.

The evening progressed, and the crowds of tourists in De Wallen grew heavier. Harvath had been paired with Nikki Rodriguez, who was wearing a lace bra, matching panties, a garter belt with stockings, and a pair of high heels.

“Are you getting a good eyeful from there?” she asked Harvath.

“I’m not looking at you,” he said. “I’m watching the street.”

“Yeah, sure you are. How’s my ass look?”

He was used to inappropriate banter in tense situations, but normally, it was with men, not a very attractive, half-naked woman. “I’ve seen better,” he replied.

“You’re a liar.”

“No offense, Rodriguez, but you’re not my type.”

“What? A hot-looking woman in peak physical fitness turns you off?” she asked. “Honey, you can come look, I don’t have an Adam’s apple.”

Harvath chuckled. “I’m the Navy man, remember? I’ve been to some pretty interesting ports of call. If you had an Adam’s apple, I guarantee you I would have spotted it from a mile away.”

“So we’re agreed I’m all woman?”

“Absolutely,” said Harvath, “just like my fiancée.”

Rodriguez shook her head. “I knew it.”

“Sorry.”

“Just tell me she isn’t a goat.”

“She’s not a goat,” said Harvath with a smile, but the smile quickly faded from his face. “Look. Do you see that guy out the window?”

“Where?”

“Ten o’clock.”

Rodriguez looked and when she did, Harvath could hear her draw in her breath. The man was going to pass right beneath her window.

Harvath activated his radio, identified himself, and said, “Player one has entered the game.”

CHICAGO

I don’t get it, Marwan. Are you trying to tell me that you trust him more than you trust me?” asked Abdul Rashid.

“It is not a question of trust, Shahab,” replied the older man. “It is a question of loyalty.”

They were sitting in the lobby of the Chicago Marriott on Michigan Avenue. Rashid was drinking a coffee, Marwan a Diet Coke.

“So what are you saying? That I should swear allegiance to Aazim Aleem?”

“As long as you are loyal to me, that’s all I care about.”

“How do we make sure we don’t repeat the mistakes that the brothers in Europe have made?”

“That’s not something you need to be concerned about,” said the older man.

Rashid set his coffee down and leaned forward. “I don’t even know what our plans are after Chicago.”

“And you’re not supposed to know. It is-”

“For my own good and the good of the operation,” said Rashid, finishing the man’s sentence for him.

“As long as you follow my orders, everything will go according to plan.”

“And whose orders do you follow? Aleem’s? I’m not exactly comfortable with the fact that he may be our supreme leader.”

“Don’t concern yourself with matters beyond your control.”

Rashid glanced around to make sure no one was listening to them before continuing. “Marwan, look at us. We’ve spent half the day surveilling hotel lobbies. Do you have any idea how crazy this is?”

“Circumstances have dictated that we change our methods.”

“Circumstances? What circumstances?”

Marwan took a sip of his Diet Coke and looked at his watch. “You will know this afternoon.”

“What’s happening this afternoon?”

“Insha’Allah, the final attack in Europe. Then it will be our turn.”

The young man lowered his voice. “Can I speak honestly with you, Marwan?”

“I should hope you always do.”

Rashid smiled and bowed his head. “Always. But I am concerned.”

“I’ve told you that you worry too much.”

“Maybe, but you made me operational director of the Chicago event. I helped train the recruits and do the planning. Now, you and Sheik Aleem want to throw all of our planning and all of our training out the window. That worries me.”

“It shouldn’t,” replied Jarrah.

“But it does. We have this operation perfectly planned, everything. Then, all of a sudden, you want to switch us to a Mumbai-style event.”

“Straying from what is comfortable is often stressful.”

“Marwan, it would take us months to get our men properly trained.”

“We don’t have months,” said the older man. “We only have two days.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.”

Rashid looked at him. “It’ll never work.”

“You must have faith. There is great wisdom in what Sheik Aleem has suggested.”

“I’m sorry, Marwan-”

The older man smiled and cut him off. “Let me finish. I have decided that the original event will continue as planned.”

“But-”

Marwan raised his hand to quiet his protégé again. “As a contingency, and hopefully to strike even greater terror into the hearts of our enemies, we will follow Sheik Aleem’s suggestion.”

Rashid shook his head.

“Sheik Aleem wants you to be in charge of both.”

“I am honored.”

The older man looked at him. “You should be.”

“But changing everything at the last minute will make success nearly impossible.”

“With faith in Allah, nothing is impossible.”

“Of course,” replied Rashid, “but where am I supposed to find men in two days with weapons experience who are willing to be Shahid?”

“Do you have faith in Allah?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good, for He has already provided you with everything you need.”

Rashid’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Allah has already given you six Iraqi National Guardsmen.”

“Your thugs at the mosque?”

“They are not thugs. They are exceptional instruments if wielded properly.”

“I thought they were just muscle you used for security.”

The older man shook his head.

“You should have told me about their backgrounds.”