Exiting the mosque under an unusually clear and sunny sky, he felt the future was looking very bright indeed.
In a dimly lit cubicle within the secured walls of Fort Gordon, Georgia, Turkish language analyst George Withers listened to the conversation through a set of cushioned headphones. An employee of the NSA’s Georgia Regional Security Operations Center, Withers was one of an army of linguists paid to eavesdrop on Middle East communications from the Army base tucked amid the forested hills surrounding Augusta.
Unlike most of his voice intercept work that involved real-time translation of phone calls captured from satellite transmissions, this conversation was hours old. The data had originated from a listening post at the U.S. Embassy in Istanbul, which had intercepted a cellular phone call to the Turkish National Intelligence Organization. The call had been digitally recorded and encrypted, then sent to Fort Gordon via an NSA relay station in Cyprus.
Withers had no way of knowing that the call had actually originated from Battal’s own cell phone. Sitting idle on his desk, the phone had been remotely activated by the Turkish intelligence agency. Like most modern cell phones, Battal’s had a built-in tracking device, which allowed it to be targeted with a secret software download. Sitting unused or even turned off, the cell phone’s microphone could be turned on remotely, gathering all nearby audio inputs. Once activated, the audio could be transmitted through a normal cell call without the user’s knowledge. The Mufti had been placed on a watch list by Turkey’s Intelligence Director, a hardened secularist who had grown nervous of Battal’s growing popularity and power. Battal’s conversation with Celik, and every other person who entered his office, was now on a direct feed to the Turkish intelligence agency. The American linguist listening in was therefore an eavesdropper on an eavesdropper.
Correctly gauging the nature of the call and guessing that it was transmitted by an unauthorized recording, Withers decided that it was worth forwarding to an intelligence analyst for further assessment. Glancing at a desk clock and seeing that it was time for his lunch break, he quickly typed in a computer command. Seconds later, a written transcript of the conversation appeared on his computer monitor, courtesy of the agency’s voice recognition software. Withers reviewed the transcript, correcting a few errors and clarifying a comment or two that the software failed to decipher, then added his own comments to a summary page. E-mailing it to an agency specialist in Turkish affairs, he rose from his desk and headed to the cafeteria, thinking that the report would probably never again see the light of day.
9
The U.S. Director of National Intelligence sat quietly through his weekly staff briefing on Eurasian and Middle Eastern affairs. A taciturn retired Army general named Braxton, he was the President’s chief intelligence funnel for the Defense Department, Homeland Security, the CIA, and a dozen other agencies responsible for protecting the nation’s security.
The briefing was dominated by the usual field updates of events taking place in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, and Iran. A parade of intelligence officers and Pentagon officials marched in and out of the secure conference room at the Liberty Crossing Intelligence Campus, the recently constructed home of the DNI located in McLean, Virginia.
The briefing was on its third hour before the agenda turned to Israel. John O’Quinn, a deputy national intelligence officer for western Asia, slipped away from the mammoth conference table to refill his coffee cup as a CIA intelligence officer discussed the latest developments on the West Bank.
“All right, all right, there’s nothing new there,” Braxton interrupted impatiently. “Let’s move on to the rest of the Med. What’s the latest on the al-Azhar Mosque bombing in Cairo?”
O’Quinn hurried back to the table as the CIA officer fielded the question.
“The final death toll was only seven, as the blast occurred at a time of sparse attendance. We don’t know if that was intentional or not. There was a single explosion, which severely damaged the mosque’s main prayer hall. As you know, al-Azhar is considered the state mosque of Egypt, and is also one of the oldest and most revered sites in Islam. The public outrage has been intense, with several anti-Israel marches taking place throughout the streets of Cairo. We’re quite sure that the protests are being organized by the Muslim Brotherhood.”
“Does Cairo know who is responsible for the bombing?”
“They don’t,” the CIA man replied. “No one with any credibility has taken responsibility, which isn’t surprising given the nature of the attack. Our fear is that the Muslim Brotherhood will gain renewed traction from the attack to make further inroads into the Egyptian parliament.”
“That’s all we need is for the Egyptians to go fundamentalist on us,” Braxton muttered with a shake of his head. “What’s our intelligence assessment as to who pulled it off?”
“We really don’t know, sir. We’re looking at potential al-Qaeda connections, but have nothing firm at the moment. There’s a somewhat curious detail from the Egyptian National Police, and that is that they claim to have found residue samples of HMX from the blast site.”
“The meaning being?”
“HMX is a tightly controlled plastic explosive. It’s high-end stuff, mostly used for nuclear devices and rocket propellant. It’s not something we’d normally associate with al-Qaeda, and we find it a bit odd that it surfaced in Egypt.”
Sitting in an adjacent chair, O’Quinn felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He quickly cleared his throat.
“You sure it was HMX?” he asked.
“We’re awaiting our own test samples, but that’s what the Egyptians reported.”
“That mean something to you, O’Quinn?” General Braxton asked.
The intelligence officer nodded. “Sir, there was a planted bomb explosion at the Yesil Mosque in Bursa, Turkey, three days before the al-Azhar blast. You may have seen a field brief on it. Three fatalities, including a prominent leader in the fringe Felicity political party. Like in Egypt, it was an old, venerated mosque.” He took a quick sip of his coffee, then added, “The Turkish authorities have confirmed that the blast was caused by a planted parcel of HMX explosives.”
“So we have two planted bombs in two countries three days apart,” the general stated. “Both in historic mosques, both ostensibly with a low designated kill rate, and both ostensibly using the same explosive material. All right, then, somebody please tell me who and why.”
An uneasy silence filled the room before O’Quinn finally braved to speak.
“Sir, I don’t think anyone was aware of the similarities in explosives until just now.”
The CIA man agreed. “We’ll get some analysts to search for a possible link right away. Given the nature of the explosives, I might speculate that the Iranians have some involvement.”
“What do the Turks think?” Braxton asked.
“Like Egypt, there have been no claims of responsibility. We have had no indication that the Turks have identified any suspects.”
The general began fidgeting in his seat, his cobalt blue eyes boring into O’Quinn like a pair of drill bits. O’Quinn had worked for the general for less than a year but had slowly gained his professional respect. He could tell by his demeanor that the Director wanted more, and finally he asked for it.
“What is your assessment?” the general asked gruffly.
O’Quinn’s mind churned to expel a coherent reply, but he had more questions than answers.
“Sir, I can’t formulate the Egyptian blast, but, as far as the Bursa mosque bombing, some believe there may be a link to the recent artifact thefts at Topkapi Palace in Istanbul.”
“Yes, I read about that,” the general replied. “I understand a Congresswoman was somehow involved in the incident.”
“Loren Smith, of Colorado. She recovered a portion of the stolen artifacts but was nearly killed in the process. She somehow managed to keep her name out of the papers.”
“Sounds like someone I could use on my staff,” Braxton muttered.
“I believe some sort of explosives were used during the Topkapi break-in,” O’Quinn continued. “I will make