Ashan thanked his friend profusely for his support. Durrani stated that if things were reversed, he knew that Ashan would do the same for him. Ashan went to bed wondering if that was true. He held his wife and nervously waited for his children to call. His daughter called first and wanted to know what was going on. He told her it was all a misunderstanding and was keenly aware that the conversation was being recorded. It took almost two and a half hours for his son to call, and neither Ashan nor his wife slept while they waited. Finally, after reassuring his son that everything would be fine, Ashan fell asleep with his wife in his arms at four-twenty in the morning.
Two hours later he woke, shaved, and dressed for work. When he left the house he noted the cordon of military vehicles and wondered if he would be allowed to leave. An Army colonel approached and informed him that he would be escorting him to ISI headquarters. Ashan was gripped with an ominous feeling as he climbed into the back of the unfamiliar vehicle. In Pakistan it was a national pastime to assassinate government officials in their cars.
The drive to the office was fortunately uneventful, but the morning was not. Ashan arrived to find out that all three of his secretaries and two of his deputies had been arrested during the night. His office was crawling with Internal Wing types who were pilfering confidential files. This was more than the intelligence professional could take. He left immediately for the director general’s office. Three assistants tried to stop him from entering, but Ashan pushed past. He opened the door to find Director General Taj and Durrani and Nassir. The look on Durrani’s face was not comforting.
“What’s wrong?” Ashan asked.
“Please sit.” Taj pointed to a spot on the couch next to Durrani.
Ashan remained standing. “There are men in my office. Men who are looking at classified files.”
“I am aware of that. You need to sit.” Taj pointed at the couch with his cigarette.
“Those men are not cleared to see those files,” Ashan said as he sat. “It is a major breach of protocol.” He looked at the other three men for some sign that they understood the enormity of the problem.
Taj looked at Nassir and gave him a sign to proceed. Nassir opened a gold file and held up a sheaf of documents. “Do you recognize these?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Give them to him so he can read them,” Taj ordered.
Ashan took the pages and felt his world slipping from him. He had never seen these pages before, but he was smart enough to recognize what they were. “These are not mine.”
“Then why did my men find them taped to the underside of one of your desk drawers last night?” Nassir asked.
“They are not mine. How do I know that your men didn’t put them there?”
Nassir looked to Taj and shook his head in disappointment.
“Director General, you have to believe me. I am not a spy for the Americans, or anyone else, and that is not my Swiss bank account. I have never seen those documents.”
“But you do have a Swiss bank account?” Nassir asked.
Durrani intervened before Ashan could answer the question. “Who doesn’t have a Swiss bank account? Let’s cut through all the crap. We are all intelligence professionals. Every single one of us has at least one Swiss bank account. Those sheets mean nothing.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Taj announced. “The Swiss bank account we can handle. As Akhtar said, once you rise to this level, Swiss bank accounts are part of the job. But the American clandestine officer saying that you are a CIA agent… that is something that is not easy to undo, even if it is a lie.”
“It is a lie!” Ashan protested vehemently. “I am not a CIA agent.” Looking from face to face Ashan realized that none of them believed him. Even Durrani wouldn’t look at him. “Akhtar, surely you don’t believe that I would sink so low?”
“You’re a better man than the three of us, and I think this all a complete fabrication, but,” Durrani said, looking angrily at Taj, “I have no say in the matter, and apparently we aren’t going to take the time to find the truth.”
It didn’t sink in at first. Ashan looked at Taj with confusion. “What is he saying?”
Taj leaned forward and stabbed out his cigarette. “The president called me just before you arrived. I’m sorry, there’s no other way to say this. He wants you sacked.”
The words drifted over him as Ashan attempted to process the finality of it all. His jaw hung loose and he asked, “Just like that.. after more than thirty years of honorable service?”
“This is bigger than you… it’s bigger than us… it’s bigger than the ISI. It’s my hope that you will be proven guiltless of all charges, but the president wants action now. We need to look strong. We cannot afford to look like America’s puppet.”
“At least let him step down on his own,” Durrani said. “Let him make a statement. We could even spin it in our favor. He could say that for the sake of clarity he is going to step down. And then he can say something about an American plot to interfere with the sovereignty of Pakistan.”
Ashan was having an out-of-body experience. He watched Taj shake his head and say, “The president is adamant. He wants him fired this morning. I’m sorry it has to be this way, Nadeem. For what it’s worth, I think you are a good and honorable man. I’m sorry, but you and the rest of your family will be placed under house arrest until the investigation is over.”
Ashan stood, without saying a word. He suddenly felt as if he was going to be sick. He left Taj’s office to find a half dozen men in uniform waiting. Arguing would be useless. If the president were involved there would be no fighting his dismissal. He did not understand how his life had been so thoroughly upended. As he walked down the hall surrounded by the men, he told himself to remain calm. There would be time to figure out what had happened, and, he hoped, to discover who was behind this.
Chapter 51
Rappahannock County, Virginia
Rapp and Hurley reviewed the file. Nash, Schneeman, and Coleman had done the bulk of the interrogations with Lewis providing a brief psychological evaluation. Gould had been very uncooperative, repeating the same things over and over and insisting that he was done talking to anyone other than Rapp. It was total bullshit. The two veterans could smell it from a mile away. Gould was weaving partial truths with outright lies in an effort to hold on to some negotiating chip. From Rapp’s perspective none of it mattered. The only negotiating chip that would work with Rapp was the truth.
Unlike the transcripts, which were worthless, the surveillance footage of Rapp that had been shot by Gould before the assassination proved rather interesting. It took just two viewings for Rapp and Hurley to see what had spooked Gould. Someone with less field experience would have missed it. Hurley and Rapp were so attuned to the normal rhythms of a street that the two men jumped out at them.
Rapp took the steps to the basement and hit the buzzer on the metal door. They turned their heads skyward for the camera, and then when he heard the buzz of the lock Rapp opened the door. The room was rectangular, with two large viewing windows for each cell. Gould was in the cell on the left and the one on the right was unoccupied. Big Joe Maslick was sitting at the control desk.
“How’s it going, Joe?” Rapp asked.
“Boring as shit. What’s with the Zurich trip… did I get bumped?” “Not my call, Joe. Sorry… Irene’s running the show.” “Is it my shoulder?” Maslick moved his arm around. “It’s fine… just a little scratch.”
Rapp knew that wasn’t true. Maslick had been shot at the veterinary clinic in Kabul. Kennedy had told Rapp the doctors were nervous that there might be some nerve damage, but they wouldn’t know until he’d completed at least another month of physical therapy. The bigger concern was that his best friend Mick Reavers had been killed in the same attack. Lewis wanted to make sure Maslick was coping before they sent him back out in the field.
“You’ll have to bring it up with Kennedy.” Rapp took the file in his hand and pointed at Gould’s cell. “What’s he up to?”
“Nothing.” Maslick rocked back in his chair. “He keeps asking to see you. It’d drive me nuts if it wasn’t for the
