The man waved him away, directing him to turn around. Nuri tried arguing, but the man wouldn’t even listen.
“Now what?” asked Flash as they turned back.
“There’s another access road on the other side of the airport,” said Nuri. “We’ll try that.”
When the policeman walked over to the taxi, Tarid leaned forward from the back and showed the man his ID. The notation in the corner made it clear he was with the Revolutionary Guard. The officer frowned, then waved the cab through.
The soldier blocking the route to the hangars was not so accommodating. He glanced at the ID, then told the driver he couldn’t pass.
Finally Tarid got out and demanded that the soldier call his superior officer. The man asked to see the ID again. He pretended to study the photo and the official designation, which showed that Tarid was the equivalent of a colonel in the regular army. While he did this, he contemplated the consequences of displeasing a high-ranking Guard official. If Tarid made life miserable for his captain, things would become very uncomfortable. The Guard was notorious for that.
“Well?” said Tarid.
The soldier handed back the ID, then went and pulled the truck out of the way.
It was only as he walked back to the cab that Tarid realized he was being followed; a dark-colored SUV was sitting about fifty yards up the road. It was too far away for him to make out who was in the front seat, but he was convinced that the men who had given him the package had followed him here.
In fact, he was half right; the man with the flashlight had followed him by himself, ordered by Aberhadji to make sure he completed the mission.
Killing him so he wouldn’t be a witness was his own idea. His companion would take care of the man in the red jacket later on.
The sight of the truck rekindled Tarid’s paranoia. Once more he was convinced he was about to be killed. But rather than being filled with fear or paralyzed by his doubts, as he had been earlier, he began getting angry. The emotion grew steadily, and by the time the cab reached Hangar Five, he was livid. A dam had broken, and as it rushed out, his fear had drowned itself, leaving only the raw emotion.
“Wait for me,” he barked at the cab driver, slamming the door behind him. The bag’s strap caught against the door. He pulled it sharply, spinning it hard against the fender as he freed it.
A man with a red jacket ran toward him.
“Careful,” he said.
“Careful yourself,” said Tarid. He threw the bag to him.
The man caught it, cringing. “You idiot,” he said. “Get the hell out of here.”
“The hell with you, too.”
Tarid whirled and went back to the cab.
“Is that the president’s plane?” asked the cab driver timidly after he got in.
Tarid hadn’t even realized what was going on. Suddenly the fear returned.
“I have no idea,” he muttered.
Nuri and flash found the other access road cut off as well. The closest they could get was a small building used by a food services company as a short-term warehouse. They parked the car and went around to the side, looking at Hangar Five with a set of binoculars. Nuri saw the cab drive up, and saw Tarid get out of the car, but his view was blocked and he couldn’t see what Tarid was doing.
The Voice, however, picked up their conversation. The exchange left Nuri baffled. The man in the red coat was afraid as well as angry, but of what?
What would Tarid have to be careful of? Certainly not of papers or computer records.
If he’d had nuclear material in the bag — a distant possibility, Nuri thought — there’d be no danger of it going off. Though perhaps the other man wouldn’t know.
A conventional bomb?
With the president’s plane nearby…
“You drive,” Nuri told Flash. “We want to follow the cab, but not too close.”
“Sure. But what are you doing?”
“I’m going to dig out our backup chemical sniffer and calibrate it. Then we have to figure out some way of getting into that cab right after Nuri gets out.”
72
President Todd studied the video image on the screen at the front of the White House Situation Room. It was remarkably clear, considering the vast distance it was being transmitted from, let alone the conditions.
There was no doubt. The image was of a medium-range intercontinental missile, topped with a heavy warhead.
“We have to guess at what’s in the warhead,” said Jonathon Reid, narrating the impromptu slide show from Room 4 at the CIA campus in Virginia. “But given everything else we’ve found, I really don’t think there’s much doubt.”
The image was coming from the Owl that Danny and Hera had launched. The weapons analysts at the CIA had identified the missile in the video as a member of the No-Dong A family, a North Korean weapon capable of carrying a nuclear warhead 2,000 to 2,900 miles.
“A small number were supposedly lost during testing and destroyed, according to the official antiproliferation documents,” said Reid dryly. “I would suggest that the documents are not entirely correct.”
“Do we have any indication of a target?” asked Todd.
“None,” said Reid. “But I think we can assume it’s Israel. It would be in retaliation for the strike on the plant in the Sudan.”
“I don’t think we have the whole picture here,” said Secretary of State Alistair Newhaven. “I agree that Israel is the logical target if this is being loaded with a nuclear warhead. But I think we’re leaping to conclusions.”
“They’re not going to spell out their intentions,” said Herman Edmund, the CIA director. “Clearly, the missile is going to be launched. And only a fool would think the warhead won’t be nuclear.”
“They’re trying to disrupt the Iranian president’s rapprochement with the U.S.,” said Secretary of Defense Lovel. “I’ve warned about this for months.”
Lovel had taken a hard line against Iran since the beginning of the administration.
“If that’s the case,” said Newhaven, who agreed with the theory, “then it argues that the missile isn’t nuclear. It’s a demonstration of their ability, but not a suicidal attack. Any nuclear attack would be suicidal, and the Iranians are not suicidal.”
“Not all Iranians,” said Lovel. “But maybe just these ones.”
“Mr. Reid, when will the missile launch?” asked President Todd.
“Again, we have no direct intelligence on their intentions. Typically, it can take anywhere from a few hours to a dozen to prepare for a launch, depending on the personnel and conditions.”
“Most likely it will be at the far end of the spectrum,” said Michael Bacon, the National Security Advisor. “At least twelve hours, if not longer. The Iranians in the past have taken upward of a day to prep their launches once they’ve reached the ready stage, and I doubt we’re dealing with a crack crew here.”
“I’m not sure about that,” said Reid. “In theory, the missile could be fueled very quickly, especially if the safety protocols were disregarded.”
“This isn’t the main government force here,” said Bacon. The information gathered by Whiplash and NSA intercepts seemed to indicate that the missile had been developed by a small group within the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, possibly one at odds with the organization’s legitimate leadership. “If they’re a splinter group, they’re not
