One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [53]
Sayyidd thought about it, then decided it didn’t matter. “The answer is simple: Allah is leading the way, praise His name. The explanation is irrelevant. We may not know why, but we do know what. The MP3 player has the data. We have the key. We just need to get the player and extract the data. It is being delivered right to us.”
Bakr didn’t really care for Sayyidd’s blind faith but let it go. “Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, we need to inform The Sheik that we might be altering the plan. He should know that we’ve come upon an opportunity that we wish to seize. Let him give us further guidance.”
Bakr was concerned that this new direction was outside the intent of his masters, and thus wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be blamed for acting irresponsibly. To do so would endanger his status as a martyr when he died. As much as he mistrusted Sayyidd’s simple belief in God’s will, he still dealt in the world of religious fervor and wanted the blessing before continuing. This meant a risky message, something that was specifically forbidden on this mission. They had a file of six different e-mail accounts that could be used only once. Al Qaeda didn’t know what was being monitored or who was being watched, and thus were treating every communication as compromised as soon as it was sent.
Bakr scribbled a message onto a notepad.
“Boot up the M4 and send this to the first address. You remember it, correct?”
“Of course. I’ve memorized all six.”
Once the connection was established, Sayyidd typed in the message:
Praise be to God, prayer and peace be upon the Prophet of God. Operation Badr has taken a turn for the better. We are no longer looking to strike the far enemy in his homeland. We have found a catastrophic weapon that will wipe the Zionists into the sea at the same time it causes the far enemy to destroy the Persians. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate, we will rejoice in the destruction of all infidels, leaving the Caliphate assured. Please respond with a blessing for this new mission, or tell us the path to take.
The message went out to a Yahoo! address, where it would sit for a day, then be forwarded to another address, then another, before being transferred to a thumb drive and driven across a border to another Internet café, sent again to another account, transferred via cell phone verbatim, then copied to a CD, and eventually find its way into the hands of Al Qaeda leadership. Just as Al Qaeda feared, along this path it would be intercepted by U.S. intelligence, and end up in a massive pile of “chatter” to be sorted through for relevance, where it would sit at the bottom, waiting to be viewed by some low-level analyst in the depths of a windowless building.
31
After hanging up the phone with Pike, Miguel said, “They’re bringing the package down here. They’ve agreed to meet us to deliver it, but I don’t trust that. Get in touch with our people at the department of immigration. Have them be on the lookout for Jennifer Cahill from the United States.”
“There’s no visa requirement to get here from America if they come as tourists,” Jake said. “We won’t get any warning before they land.”
“I know. We’ll only have a small window to control the situation, but luckily all flights from the U.S. fly straight here into Guatemala City. We should be able to blanket every flight coming from America for the next three days.”
Jake agreed, then added, “Should we build a net inside the local hotels as well? There’s a small chance that they could get through customs without us being alerted.”
“Yeah. That makes sense. Have it done. Stick to the tourist hotels.”
“What do you want me to do when I find them?”
“Whatever it takes to bring them in to me. I want to get them in our hands before they have a chance to make any sort of plans or change their minds and talk to the authorities. Let’s not inadvertently kill anyone else before we have our information.”
Jake grinned. “I’ll do my best.”
THE HUMIDITY HIT