Mark Greaney - Full Force and Effect

“Fair enough,” said Herbers. He had a dozen more items on his agenda, and every one of them seemed just as important at the time.

41

Adel Zarif had been pestering his Mexican contacts for days about the bomb-making materials he needed, but Emilio and the others had just pled ignorance, claiming some men would arrive from the West and talk to him soon enough.

With five days before the President’s arrival in Mexico, the Iranian had reached the point where he was considering contacting the North Koreans directly to complain about the situation. He had a contact number for a team of RGB men here in Mexico, with instructions to call as soon as the operation was complete, but he thought he might have to call it to raise his concerns about the lack of activity.

Things were getting dire, but Emilio’s continued promises had persuaded Zarif to wait.

Finally, with just four days left, Emilio sat Zarif down on the couch in the living room of his tiny safe-house apartment.

He said, “I’ve been asked to get a list of everything you want.”

Zarif cocked his head. “I don’t know what is available to me.”

“Everything.”

“What does that mean?”

“We have access to Base Aérea Militar Numero Siete. It’s an Army facility in the state of Guerrero. We can obtain anything that they have in their weapons stores. If what you need is small enough to fit in the trunk of a car, we can have it for you by tomorrow.”

Zarif was astonished. He was worried he’d have to make his weapon out of fertilizer and gasoline. At the very high end he’d hoped they would have access to some TNT. But Emilio was promising him ready-made military ordnance.

It didn’t get any better than that.

Zarif thought it over, trying to determine what would work best for the task at hand. The President would be traveling in his limousine, and the limo used by the U.S. President was legendary, and that was a problem for Zarif for two reasons. One, if it was as good as the legend, then it would take a massive charge, or else an extremely well-made device, to penetrate it.

And two, the legend was just that, a legend. There were very few specific details known about the vehicle itself. The weight, the thickness of the steel, the types of other materials used, and the locations of the most and least vulnerable parts—it was all officially unknown. Zarif was an engineer, he could do a lot with good data, but in his research on the vehicle itself he had discovered little more than conjecture, rumor, hyperbole, and wild guesses.

Legend.

The way to combat this unknown was to build the bomb as large and as precise as he could reasonably make it.

He thought about what the base would have. Instantly he decided he would construct the weapon out of artillery shells. As far as Zarif knew, every modern military had a 105-millimeter howitzer in its arsenal. Their shells made incredibly effective IEDs; he’d used them hundreds of times in Iraq, Afghanistan, Lebanon, and Syria.

One high-explosive or armor-piercing shell, if exploded into the side of the presidential limousine, would surely destroy it and all inside.

But there were other considerations. The President always traveled with two limousines that drove one in front of the other. This way, if there was any problem with one car, the President could be slipped into the other. Two shells would be necessary to target both vehicles, because he wouldn’t know which limo the President would be in at the moment they reached the target zone.

Zarif thought for a moment more. He was somewhat concerned about overkill. A bunch of dead civilians might anger his Mexican associates, but he was more concerned about failure. If he did not kill Jack Ryan the North Koreans would not fulfill their end of the bargain. He fought the urge to request four high-explosive howitzer shells, settled for three, and then handed over another list of items that he had already written down, all of which could be purchased at a hardware store and an electronics hobbyist shop.

Emilio looked it all over without comment, then with a nod he said, “The 105s will come from Guerrero, as I said. And I will have the rest of the pieces purchased far from here, so they will not cause any suspicion.”

Zarif said, “Very good. How long?”

“Twenty-four hours, and then you can begin your work.”

42

On his third day at Valley Floor, Jack Ryan, Jr., knew he had to make something happen. The day before he had spent virtually every moment in meetings that he had to attend in order to solidify his cover, and all day today he’d tried and failed to bump into Élise Legrande again, even making two visits to the Hydrometallurgy Quality Control department. It seemed she’d been spending time in the IT area, so he’d finagled a reason to drop in on Ralph Baggett, only to find out the IT director had to run to an important meeting somewhere else at the facility.

Jack started back toward his temporary office, but on the way there he decided to head to the cafeteria to grab a late lunch and to think over his next step. While he walked he considered his predicament. He’d managed to piece together very little of what Élise Legrande was up to, other than the fact she was ostensibly running diagnostics on some hydroseparation equipment that was used to pull the minerals out of the ore. More important, she was also clearly trying to get close to the IT director of the facility, and she seemed to be succeeding in this mission.

In the cafeteria Ryan ran into a couple of execs he’d met the day before, and he sat with them and chatted over lunch. After a few minutes the execs stood to head off to yet another meeting, and just as they did so, the woman posing as Élise Legrande entered together with Ralph Baggett. Jack stayed behind, dawdling over his turkey sandwich.

A few minutes later Jack was alone at his table, and Ralph and Élise were sitting a few tables away. Jack had hoped Ralph would, on his own, make the introductions, but apparently Ralph didn’t want to share his tablemate’s attention with anyone else. Watching him eat his lunch with the beautiful blonde, Ryan determined the frumpy IT director was happy to keep the woman all to himself.

But even though Baggett and Legrande had not paid any attention to him, another person in the cafeteria, a middle-aged woman wearing a lab coat and a badge that identified her as an R&D research technician, had been openly staring at Jack. He used to get a lot more of this treatment before he’d grown a beard, and even though it was exceedingly rare he was recognized now, he still knew exactly what was going on.

Jack did his best to ignore the R&D lady, and he tried to think of a casual way to introduce himself to Élise, but while he was mulling it over, Baggett’s secretary paged him on the overhead intercom. The IT director apologized to Élise and stood to return to his office. As Baggett walked off, Jack noticed the man run his hand across Legrande’s back, an awkwardly affectionate touch that looked like something Jack might have tried out once or twice in sixth grade.

Élise showed no outward acknowledgment of the gesture.

Jack was just about to get up and make his way over to her table when he saw that the lady from R&D was now standing at his table with a smile on her face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch.”

Jack stood himself. “No, not at all.”

“I just want to say I’m a strong supporter of your father.”

Jack smiled. “That’s great. I know he appreciates it.”

The woman gushed for another minute, then she ripped a sheet of paper out of a notebook and asked Ryan to sign it for her. When he had done so, she thanked him, and left the cafeteria seconds later.