Abuse of Power - Michael Savage [139]
No.
Soren and his extremist friends wouldn’t have avoided the bash if they knew how this was going to play out. Besides, the way they were talking they were after something else, a major statement. One that would chill the world, send it scurrying in terror, so that they could seize power from men whom they considered weak and rule by fear and intimidation. No matter how you parsed it, what had happened here simply made no sense.
Unless—
The sirens continued to wail as a tidal wave of thoughts rolled through Jack’s mind, things remembered from the last few days—
Al-Fida’s promise to Sara: “The infidels will soon see destruction that will make 9/11 seem like child’s play—”
Copeland babbling on the phone: “Gotta get out of here … Gotta look after the twins.…”
The word twins in one of those e-mails. Still bothering him, its meaning still undeciphered.
Lawrence Soren smugly telling Jack about regime change and puppets and power.
Why? Soren didn’t care about this President. He had no need to assassinate the man. One resident of the White House was the same as the next as far as he was concerned, merely there to be controlled and manipulated by whoever managed to grab power.
And then Jack remembered the papers Copeland had left in that package on his boat. The Department of Defense papers that spoke of a clandestine transport of a tanker full of experimental solid rocket fuel.
Operation Roadshow?
As the sirens continued to grow closer, it suddenly struck Jack that this wasn’t just some sick joke. It was far, far more than that.
Forsyth had finished with his call, the room had pretty much emptied, and a fresh set of suits grabbed hold of him.
“Listen to me, Forsyth,” Jack said as they tried to walk him out. “You’ve got to listen to me carefully.”
“We’ve heard enough from you. Get him out—”
“Think, goddamn it. If I had anything to do with this, why would I have warned you there was a bomb in the building?”
“How the hell should I know? You miss the attention? You’re out of your friggin’ mind.”
“No,” Jack said. “No. This is just a footnote to what’s really going on.”
“Get him out of my sight.”
Forsyth’s men started to drag him away but Jack struggled against them. “You hear those sirens?” he said. “That’s half the city’s emergency personnel headed in our direction because they think the President’s in danger. But don’t you get it? This is a goddamn decoy.”
“For what?” Forsyth called after him.
“I’ve spent the last week trying to track these people down—been to Europe and back trying to figure out what the hell they’re up to. This all goes back to the bombing downtown. Agent Forsyth, do you seriously think that was the work of a bunch of disgruntled yahoos?”
Jack saw a shift in Forsyth’s eyes. The same shift he’d seen when he’d confronted him at that press conference. Forsyth knew that was all a cover story. He knew the whole setup wasn’t kosher.
“Come on,” Jack said. “If you know anything about me at all, you know I’m a goddamn patriot. I’d never do anything to harm this country. I’m telling you the truth.”
Forsyth mulled that over for a moment and Jack thought he saw another subtle shift in his expression. He gestured for the men to release Jack. They stepped away but stayed close.
“Okay, let’s pretend for a minute I believe you,” Forsyth said. “What do you think the real target is?”
“I figure they’re looking to make a major statement here. I think they’re going after San Francisco’s twin towers.”
“What?”
“I’ve been too damn busy following the trail they laid out, thinking they’d converge. But they don’t. This was designed to keep us distracted.”
“A decoy?”
“Yeah. There’s a top soldier for the Hand of Allah named Hassan Haddad who’s been running point on this whole operation. Smart son of a bitch. I’m guessing he was also in those tunnels tonight, and if you follow them to their farthest point, where do you think they lead?”
Forsyth thought about this for a long moment. And