Executive orders - Tom Clancy [96]
Whoa! Major Canon breathed.
The President nodded, then reverted to his former life as an intelligence officer. Okay, tell me what we know.
Sir, we know that somebody got killed, probably the Iraqi President.
Double?
Canon nodded, Could be, but STORM TRACK is now reporting a lot of VHF signals that started all of a sudden, police and military nets, and the activity is radiating out from Baghdad. The Marine officer pointed to his computer monitor, which displayed real-time take from the NSA's many outposts. Translations will take a little time, but I do traffic analysis for a living. It looks pretty real, sir. I suppose it could be faked, but I wouldn't-there!
A translation was coming up, identified as emanating from a military command net. He's dead, he's dead, stand your regiment to and be prepared to move into the city imediately-recipient is Replican Gurds Special Operations regiment at Salmon Pak-reply is: Yes I will yes I will, who is giving the oders, what are my orders-
Typos and all, Ryan noted.
Sir, it's hard for our people to translate and type it at the same time. Usually we clean it up before-
Relax, Major. I only use three fingers myself. Tell me what you think.
Sir, I'm only a junior officer here, that's why I draw the midwatch and-
If you were stupid, you wouldn't be here.
Canon nodded. He's deader 'n hell, sir. Iraq needs a new dictator. We have the imagery, we have unusual signal traffic that fits the pattern of an unusual event. That's my estimate. He paused and went on to cover himself, like a good spook. Unless it's a deliberate exercise to smoke out disloyal people inside his government. That's possible, but unlikely. Not in public like this.
Kamikaze play?
Yes, Mr. President. Something you can only do once, and dangerous the first time.
Agreed. Ryan walked to the coffee urn-the White House Office of Signals was mainly a military operation, and they made their own. Jack got two cups and came back, handing one to Major Canon, rather to the horror of everyone else in the room. Fast work. Send a 'thanks' to the guys working this, okay?
Aye aye, sir.
Who do I talk to to get things happening around here?
We got the phones right here, Mr. President.
I want Adler in here ASAP, the DCI who else? State and CIA desks for Iraq. DIA estimate of the state of their military. Find out if Prince Ali is still in town. If he is, ask him to please stand by. I want to talk to him this morning if possible. I wonder what else ? Ryan's voice trailed off.
CENTCOM, sir. He'll have the best military-intelligence troops down at Tampa, most familiar with the area, I mean.
Get him up here-no, we'll do that by landline, and we give him time to get briefed in.
We'll get it all going for you, sir. Ryan patted the officer on the shoulder and headed out of the room. The heavy door closed behind him before Major Charles Canon spoke again. Hey, NCA knows his shit.
Is it what I heard? Price asked, coming up the corridor.
Do you ever sleep? Then he thought about it. I want you in on this.
Why me, sir, I'm not-
You're supposed to know about assassinations, right?
Yes, Mr. President.
Then right now you're more valuable to me than a spook.
THE TIMING COULD have been better. Daryaei had been surprised by the information just delivered. Not in the least bit displeased by it-except maybe the timing. He paused for a moment, whispering a prayer first of thanks to Allah, then for the soul of the unknown assassin-assassin? he asked himself. Perhaps judge would be a better term for the man, one of many who'd been infiltrated into Iraq ages ago, while the war had still been going on. Most had merely disappeared, probably shot one way or another. The overall mission had been his idea, not nearly dramatic enough for the professionals working in his intelligence service. Largely leftovers from the Shah's Savak-trained by the Israelis in the 1960s