Dead or Alive - Tom Clancy [220]
“Yep, but I can’t help wondering sometimes if we’re talking about the bad-apple theory.”
“Say what?”
“One bad apple in the barrel. In this case, there are plenty of really bad apples, but probably still a pretty small minority.”
“Maybe so, maybe not. Kinda above our pay grade, though.”
“I mean, think about it: How many Muslims in the world?”
“Billion and a half, I think. Maybe two.”
“And how many of them go around blowing themselves up? Better question: How many are radical terrorists?”
“Twenty or thirty thousand, probably. I get your point, bro, but I don’t worry about the good apples. Who and how you worship is your own business—up until you start getting divine messages to blow the shit out of innocent people.”
“Hey, no argument here.”
They’d had this discussion before: Was broad-brushing a whole people or religion merely a mistake of morality, or was it also a tactical mistake? When you see whole chunks of a demographic as the enemy, does that keep you from not only spotting the real bad guys but also recognizing an ally? Like almost every country on earth, America had had enemies turn to friends, and friends into enemies. The Afghan mujahideen was a case in point that Dominic had often cited. The same rebels the CIA had helped drive the Soviets out of Afghanistan had morphed into the Taliban. The history books would forever be debating how and why that had happened, but there was little arguing the truth of the thing itself. One issue the Caruso brothers agreed on was the similarities between a soldier’s perspective and a cop’s perspective: Know your enemy as best you can, and be flexible in your tactics. Plus, both of them had seen enough shit in their lives to know there was no such thing as black-and-white in the real world—and that was especially true of their roles at The Campus, where gray was the norm. There was a good reason why spooks and special operators were often referred to as “Shadow Warriors.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Dominic added. “I’m only too happy to pull the trigger on any mutt who threatens my country. I’m just saying, the guy who fights the smart war is usually the winner.”
“Amen to that. There’s probably a few million Soviet soldiers who’d argue that, though. Stalin shoved them into the meat grinder of the Eastern Front like they were cattle.”
“Always an exception to the rule.”
Brian stopped to check their map. “Almost there. Next left, then right down an alley. Bari’s apartment is the third door on the left. Painted bloodred, according to Ghazi.”
“Let’s hope that ain’t a bad omen.”
They found the right alley ten minutes later and ducked through the arch. Soldier that he was, Brian’s night vision was better tuned than that of his brother, so he was the first to realize the man walking toward them down the alley was none other than Rafiq Bari. He was not alone but rather was flanked by a pair of men, each dressed in dark slacks and long-sleeved white shirts open at the neck and untucked at the waist.
“Local heavies,” Dominic muttered.
“Yep. Let’s let them pass.”
Bari was walking fast, as were his bodyguards, but both Bari’s body language and that of the two bodyguards told the Carusos that Bari wasn’t under duress. The relationship was clearly of an employee-employer nature.
Brian and Dom reached the red door first and kept going, letting Bari and his party pass on their left. Brian cast a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Bari slipping a key into the door’s lock. Brian turned back forward. The door opened, then slammed shut. The Carusos turned left at the next corner and stopped.
“Never gave us a second look,” Dominic said. Bari’s bodyguards were probably street-level thugs who assumed a familiarity with violence was training enough for the job, and they’d probably be right in most circumstances.
“Bad luck for them, good for us,” Brian replied. “He was moving quick, though. He’s either in a hurry to catch Wheel of Fortune or he’s on the move.”
“Better assume the latter. Time to improvise.”
“The Marine way.”
Twenty feet down the alley, they found an open archway