meant even though bin Laden trucks were used in the insurrection, the Saudi police had to turn to the bin Ladens for their assistance.
Jones asked, 'Which government officials would be notified about their plans?'
'The Ministry of the Interior.'
'Sonofabitch,' he muttered. 'It figures.'
'What?' she asked, confused.
Payne explained. 'The guy we're after tortured one of their officials. We weren't sure why, but now it makes sense. He wanted to know about the towers.'
44
The entry route was exactly as they had been told. Follow the pipes directly into the subbasement. Take the stairs to access ground level. From there, all seven towers were accessible via ramps and exterior construction elevators. Security would be virtually nonexistent, since most of the guards would be outside, patrolling the plaza, stopping people from entering the work zone. They wouldn't be inside, worried about terrorists.
During the past six months, Schmidt had studied the building plans and surveyed Mecca on three different trips. However, until he was standing inside, staring at the tons of concrete and steel that surrounded him, he never fully grasped how big the complex was.
To build the Abraj Al Bait Towers, a large hole was dug until they hit bedrock, which was less than 100 feet deep in Mecca because its layer was close to the surface. In some projects, such as the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur, workers had to dig 394 feet underground to lay the foundation, a massive undertaking that cost millions of dollars.
Next, footings were anchored in the hole to distribute the weight, much like a pyramid, before concrete was poured over the top, creating the bottom floor. Large cranes inserted vertical support beams and horizontal steel girders, which held the building together, forming a giant frame. Finally, a curtain wall, made of concrete and glass, was attached to the outside, providing water and wind resistance while improving the overall aesthetics of the project.
From there, work was done on the interior. Three thousand miles of electrical wires. Twenty-eight thousand miles of plumbing. Heating and cooling systems. Wood, marble, stone, glass. All of it laid in stages over several years, pieces slowly coming together until the complex was finally done.
Construction began in 2004 and wouldn't be finished until 2009.
But as far as Schmidt was concerned, everything he needed was already in place.
The tunnel was narrow, lined in concrete and filled with massive pipes that seemed to go on forever. With nowhere to hide and no way to spread out, they jogged single file, their footsteps multiplying with every echo. Fluorescent lights, covered in metal screens and bolted to the ceiling, lit their path, but the truth was they were heading into darkness.
No advance recon. No knowledge of the building. Like a black hole of information.
Payne led the way, followed by Jones, then the other two teams. Their pace never slowed from the moment they entered the hatch until they approached the tunnel's end. It opened into a wide expanse, cluttered with equipment, raw materials, and the skeletal foundation of the buildings. The men scattered quickly, searching for architectural plans, schematics, or maps-anything to help them navigate the maze that surrounded them.
Three minutes passed before something was found. It was a simple pamphlet, written in Arabic and English, detailing the future amenities of the towers, including a full-color illustration of the complex upon completion. There were seven buildings in total, all of them facing the Great Mosque. Five were laid out in a giant horseshoe, while the space between was filled with a multistoried mall. The remaining two towers jutted away from the curve in the U- one tower on each side, yet still connected through a series of walkways and bridges.
The showcased building was the one in the center. Simply called the Hotel Tower, it was nearly sixteen hundred feet tall, trimmed in gold, and topped with a crescent moon, an important symbol in the Islamic faith. It was nearly twice the height of the others, whose names and sizes were listed.
1. Hotel Tower 485 m, 1,591 ft.
2. Hajar 260 m, 853 ft.
3. Zamzam 260 m, 853 ft.
4. Qiblah240m,787ft.
5. Sarah 240 m, 787 ft.
6. Marwah 240 m, 787 ft.
7. Safa240m,787ft.
With the exception of the hotel, each of the names had its roots in Islam. Sarah and Hajar were women in the Qur'an. Zamzam was the famous well inside the Great Mosque. Marwah and Safa were the hills that pilgrims travel between seven times. Qiblah was the direction of prayer in Mecca.
According to the pamphlet, each of the buildings was being treated as a separate project. All of them were interconnected, but they would be finished at different intervals. Two of the residential towers would be completed this year; the hotel would take until the end of the decade.
Payne considered this while he planned their next move.
Meanwhile, his men gathered around as if he were a quarterback in the huddle, waiting for him to call the play.
'There are six of us and six exterior buildings,' he said. 'We don't know where they'll be or what they're doing. For all we know, they're spread throughout the complex. The best way to cover that much ground is by splitting up. Radio frequently. Keep me posted. Concentrate on the structural areas, places where an explosive will do the most damage. We don't have time to go room to room. Just follow your gut and we may get lucky.'
He pointed to a man then pointed to a building, each assigned the number in the pamphlet. 'You, four. You, five. You, six. You, seven. D.J. and I will take the two towers closest to the hotel. If you see anything, let us know. We'll reassign manpower as needed.'
The soldiers dispersed, moving in pairs. Even-numbered buildings were on the left; odd numbers were on the right. The men would travel together until they were forced to split up.
Payne and Jones were the last to leave. They lingered in (he subbasement for an extra minute, looking for something to improve their odds, hoping to find a better map, one with floor plans or mechanical drawings. Anything to point out the weaknesses that Schmidt might have spotted when he did his research.
As it turned out, their biggest break wasn't an object. It was a sound. A simple sound. Nothing more than a drip of liquid falling on concrete. Like a droplet of rain hitting the sidewalk. Jones heard it as he searched for paperwork. On most occasions it would have blended into the outside world and he would have ignored it. But in this case, his senses were in overdrive. Adrenaline was flowing, and everything around him was part of a much bigger puzzle.
A sound could be a footstep. A sound could mean his death.
Suddenly his curiosity was doubled. Not only was there a noise, but there was an odor. A familiar scent that reminded him of his time in the military. Back when he was flying planes and helicopters. Killing time in hangars. Waiting for his next mission to begin.
He took a few steps forward, searching the ceiling and floor for moisture. Finally he saw it. A small puddle underneath the massive water pipe they had followed from the hatch. Curious, he crouched and inspected the liquid. It was clear like water but had a strong chemical smell. He put his nose closer and took a whiff.
'Jon,' he called over his shoulder. 'Come over here.'
Payne spotted him in a catcher's stance, examining a puddle on the ground. He couldn't imagine what his friend was doing. 'Please tell me you didn't take a piss.'
Jones ignored him. 'I think it's fuel.'
'What do you mean?'
'I think this pipe is leaking fuel.'
'But that's a water pipe.'
