elbow room.” As the two men walked across the office, Mulholland slapped Howard on the back, a friendly pile- driving blow which almost rattled his teeth. “I’m really glad to have you on the team, Cole, you’ve done some great work on this. Great work.”
Mulholland reminded Howard of a crusading general who’d happily lead his men into battle, rushing towards a hail of bullets in the sure and certain knowledge that he couldn’t be touched, while all around him his adoring troops fell dying and wounded. He inspired confidence, but Howard felt that he was a bit too gung-ho, and too lavish with his praise. Howard put his briefcase by the side of one of the sofas and sat down, smoothing the creases of his trousers. Mulholland pulled over a high-backed swivel chair and placed it facing the sofas. A balding man of medium height in a cheap brown suit came into the office. Mulholland introduced him as Hank O’Donnell, Jr, director of the Counter-Terrorism section. O’Donnell looked more like a career bureaucrat than an anti-terrorism agent, and when Howard shook hands with him he noticed that his fingers were stained with ink as if he’d been writing with a leaky pen. He had a file under his arm. As O’Donnell moved to sit down on one of the sofas, Howard saw that the seat of the man’s pants were shiny as if he spent a lot of time sitting down.
Another man entered the office and Mulholland introduced him as an agent from the Counter-Terrorism (Europe) Division. Frank Sullivan was tall with sandy hair, a sallow complexion and a sprinkling of freckles across his snub nose. He explained that Don Clutesi was out on a surveillance operation and that he would be back in the office within the hour. Sullivan sprawled on the sofa while Mulholland eased himself into the chair like some omnipotent monarch taking his throne.
“This is by way of a pre-briefing prior to a meeting which we’ll be having with the Secret Service in Washington later tonight,” said Mulholland, his massive forearms folded across his barrel chest. “I want to get a feel for exactly what we’re up against here. Cole, you’ve done the lion’s share of the work on this, why don’t you bring us up to speed?”
Howard nodded and picked up his briefcase. He unlocked it and took out the files it contained, and dropped two of them onto the glass table. “Mary Hennessy and Matthew Bailey, both members of the Provisional Irish Republican Army, both wanted for murder by the British,” he said, “and both of them were filmed taking part in an assassination rehearsal in the Arizona desert.” He put a third file on the table. “Ilich Ramirez Sanchez, AKA Carlos the Jackal, the world’s most notorious terrorist responsible for a string of murders, hijackings and kidnappings. He was with Hennessy and Bailey in Arizona as they put three snipers through their paces.” He put the two Navy personnel files on the desk. “Rich Lovell and Lou Schoelen,” he said, “former Navy SEALs and expert snipers. Capable of hitting targets at a range of two thousand yards. The third sniper we haven’t managed to identify yet.”
Hank O’Donnell coughed quietly. “I think we might be able to cast some light on the third sniper,” he said, and handed his file to Howard. “Dina Rashid, Lebanese, one of the Christian militia’s best snipers.”
Howard opened the file. A colour photograph of a thin-faced girl with long brown hair, dark skin and black eyes was clipped to the inside cover. Howard remembered that the third sniper in the video had long hair.
“According to our Middle East Division, Rashid has been missing from Beirut for the past five months, and there’s a general request out for information on her whereabouts,” O’Donnell continued. “We’ve no record of her entering the US, but then we had no record of Hennessy, Bailey or Carlos passing through Immigration, either. You’ll see from the file that she and Carlos are not exactly strangers.” He coughed, almost apologetically. “In fact, for a time they were lovers.”
Howard nodded, and put the file on top of the rest. “We all know that Carlos was one of a number of terrorists summoned to Iraq by Saddam Hussein, and it’s generally assumed that they were briefed on a terrorist campaign aimed at the States and the United Kingdom.”
Mulholland leant forward, linking his fingers. “It’s more than an assumption, Cole. The IRA were among those who attended the meetings in Baghdad and only weeks afterwards they launched a mortar attack on Downing Street.”
Sullivan nodded. “There were several known IRA terrorists reported in Iraq over Christmas 1990, and the mortar attack was on February 7, 1991. The British Prime Minister, John Major, was in the Cabinet Room with his War Cabinet, and they were damn lucky not to have been killed. One of the mortars landed in the garden of Number 10 Downing Street and cracked the windows. Margaret Thatcher had installed blast-proof net curtains some years previously — that’s what saved them.”
“There’s no suggestion that Hennessy or Bailey were involved, is there?” Howard asked.
Sullivan shook his head. “Special Branch have their theories, but neither Hennessy nor Bailey was mentioned. Bailey was in the States at the time, anyway.”
“I remember the bombing, but I didn’t realise that Iraq was behind it,” said Howard.
“That’s the way Saddam wants it,” said O’Donnell, quietly. “It’s revenge he wants, not publicity.”
“Which brings us to the target,” said Mulholland. “Bob Sanger has already put the Secret Service’s Intelligence Division on full alert. But are we sure that the President is the target?”
Howard sat back, his hands on his knees. “I don’t know, Ed. I just don’t know. I haven’t had time to put together a comprehensive list, but the British Prime Minister is over here in a few days, the Prince of Wales is here on a Royal visit next month. A number of British politicians and business leaders are coming, and many of them could be a target. Most of the visiting politicians are from the Conservative Party, and several of the businessmen are in defence industries.”
Mulholland nodded. “Tell me about these computer experts you have over at the White House,” he said.
Howard explained about Andy Kim’s work on the computer model of the assassination.
“Have you thought about inputting different targets into the program?” asked Mulholland. “Could we do all the British VIPs?”
“We’ve thought about it, but there are time constraints, and who do we put forward as targets if it isn’t the President? We don’t have the resources to run the model for every visiting dignitary, even if we restrict ourselves to the Brits. And what about other American possibilities? We could consider every member of Congress as a potential target. There are just too many names. And who says it’s a politician? There are plenty of likely targets in the military who Saddam would like to see blown away.”
Mulholland nodded. “What are the time constraints you mentioned?”
Howard explained about the telephone tap and that Lou Schoelen had told his mother everything would be over within two weeks. When he told the group about identifying the television station from the
“Outstanding,” said Mulholland.
“Inspired,” added O’Donnell, slapping his own leg.
“So, we know the hit is going down on the East Coast, and that it’s going to go ahead within the next two weeks. What are our options?” asked Mulholland.
“We could cancel all the President’s public appearances for the next two weeks,” said Howard.
“He’d never agree to that,” said Mulholland.
“In view of the circumstances. .”
Mulholland shook his head. “I’ve already run the idea by Bob Sanger — his view is that Presidential security is already one hundred per cent, there is nothing more that can be done short of putting him in a nuclear shelter.”
“We could put out a press release saying he had a medical problem,” suggested Howard.
“That’s certainly been done before, but the view from the White House is that the President can’t run for cover every time we uncover a conspiracy,” said Mulholland. “If we did that, he’d never leave the White House. I gather there’s an element of pride, too. If Saddam Hussein is behind this, the President doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing that he’s afraid.”
“What about putting them on the Ten Most Wanted List?” asked O’Donnell, his voice low as if frightened of intruding.
“Who? The snipers or the terrorists?” asked Mulholland.
“I thought the snipers,” said O’Donnell. “If they know we’re on to them, they might get cold feet.”
“In which case they might try again some other time,” said Howard.
“Cole’s right,” said Mulholland. “Plus, it’s Carlos who’s planning this, I’m sure, and if the snipers back out he’ll get others. This Rashid woman sounds like she’s got personal reasons for being involved, so she’s unlikely to be scared off. But we could put Bailey and Hennessy on the list. Carlos, too. They’re wanted terrorists.”
