CHAPTER 105
Carlos' POV
"Arbaat, thalatha, ithnane, wahid …" [Arabic for "Four, three, two, one …"]
I quietly counted down the final seconds until the explosion and then exclaimed, "Allahu akbar!" [God is great!], in such a way that the men who were watching me and testing my loyalty to their cause would find very convincing. The improvised explosive device (IED) I'd created – and planted in exactly the right place to go off when our U.S. Special Forces troops drove by on a routine patrol of the area – went off as planned.
I watched in amazement and relief as the American HUMVEE popped into the air, rolled over, and landed upright. Four heavily-armed soldiers got out of the vehicle, searched their immediate area and then began to fire toward my position. Gunfire stuttered through the night and I returned fire toward men I'd sworn to protect and defend. Part of me felt sick to my stomach, but I'd had no choice.
Earlier that day, Bobby and I, in our cover identities of Jamaal Abdullah and Hassaan Azzaam, had met the man who was interrogating our captured CIA cryptographers Justin Hawkins and Robert Bell. Ali Mohammed al-Rashad had sauntered into the small house where we were staying and he bragged that it had taken him only two days to extract the highly-desired Top Secret information out of his American prisoners. Of course, those two cryptographers were no match for al-Rashad. They'd been drugged and kidnapped and secreted out of the U.S. and were scared beyond all reasoning by the time they arrived in Iraq.
"Tonight is a night for celebration!" Ali proclaimed to our small team of men who were gathered around a table and cleaning weapons.
Badr Udeen, our informant and 'sponsor' into the world of Al-Qaeda, squinted up at al-Rashad and growled, "Celebration? Hah! I say it's time to use the information you just got. How do you know it's valid, anyway?"
Al-Rashad laughed and said, "It's good that you are so eager, young Badr. I like that. We will be able to test everything within another day or two. We'll get rid of the prisoners once the codes are validated."
"Why so long?" Badr asked. "You say you got good information out of those American dogs and that's a fine thing, but I say it's too dangerous to keep the prisoners here for much longer. What if the American soldiers find out about this location? You know they've been doing regular patrols in this area."
"You'll just have to keep them occupied," replied al-Rashad. "Americans have short attention spans. They're easily distracted."
Badr shook his head in disgust and said, "I don't know how you can stand to spend so much time among the infidels."
"It's not as bad as you might think," al-Rashad shrugged. "Like anyone, they tend to notice only the high and mighty among them. I maintain such a low profile they rarely even see me. It's actually funny when you think about it." Then he turned to me and gave me an appraising look before he spoke, "I'm sure you'll agree with me, Hassaan Azzaam. Don't you think your countrymen are incredibly oblivious?"
"I try not to think about my former countrymen at all," I replied cooly.
"Oh, that's right," grinned al-Rashad. "When you were Marc Pardo, you were among the most marginalized of your former people, even though your family had a considerable amount of money and prestige. And once you became an ex-convict, I'm sure you were even more invisible – except, of course, to officers of the law."
I remained stony-faced and al-Rashad laughed heartily.
"You know, Hassaan," he said, "I have found that it is almost easier for those of us with Middle Eastern backgrounds to move among the Americans if you let them think you are either a light-skinned Black or a Latino."
My blood ran cold and the skin on the back of my neck prickled. I forced myself not to glance at Bobby/Jamaal. Had our covers been blown somehow? Why did al-Rashad make such a comment? Was he suspicious? It was time to play it extremely cool.
"I know exactly what you mean," Bobby/Jamaal said, without missing a beat. "When I was first sent to prison there, the other inmates just assumed I was Black, too. That's what made it so easy to talk to them and make more converts to the true path of Islam. May Allah be praised forever."
Al-Rashad nodded and continued, "Yes, and I have a few friends who have been able to infiltrate the highest of places by letting their foolish American colleagues assume they are something other than what they truly are. Most people over there assume I'm a Latino. I'm not the only one who has learned to speak Spanish flawlessly in order to gain employment in very important places. It's true that mine is not necessarily a prestigious job, but my ability to blend in with the environment is yielding big dividends for our cause. And it's all because most Americans see only what they wish to see."
"Or what they expect to see," Bobby/Jamaal stated with a nod.
"Precisely!" al-Rashad beamed at him.
Clearly, the Iraqi interrogator was glad to have a kindred spirit among us. And it was obvious that he had checked out our background stories. Still, I felt very uneasy around the man, especially when he turned to me and seemed to stare right into my soul.
"Now, about tonight's celebration," al-Rashad began and he rubbed his palms together in anticipation.
"I'm sorry," Badr said sheepishly, "Money has been rather tight lately and we just don't have enough provisions for a proper celebration."
"Oh, I'm sure we'll have what we need for this evening's entertainment," al-Rashad laughed again. "After all, the kind of celebration I'm talking about is the kind that starts off with a bang."
My skin began to crawl and my worst fears were confirmed when al-Rashad laid out his plans for the 'evening's entertainment.' Now that he had the ability to break the American communications codes, he wanted to test the validity of the information. First, he wanted to try to listen in on the radio transmissions of one of the nearby U.S. units. If that worked, then al-Rashad wanted us to carry out an attack on an American patrol. This would be his 'celebration' – to use the captured cryptographers' information to cause mayhem right away.
"You! Hassaan!" al-Rashad pointed at me. "It's high time you proved your loyalty to our side. Yes, I've heard of your conversion in prison and I know you've been over here for a while now, but I have a job for you to do. Do you think you're man enough to go through with it?"
I just gave him my iciest stare.
Al-Rashad grinned and said, "We shall see. Tonight. Badr, go over to your cousin's house and get all the supplies we need." Then he bragged to us of his plans to keep the American cryptographers alive until he'd wrung every drop of information from them. He was whistling when he left our house and returned to his own lodgings in a different building to contact his handlers.
Bobby, Badr, and I exchanged glances. We all knew that as soon as al-Rashad verified the codes worked, the life expectancy of the captured cryptographers was nil. This already was a bad situation, but it had the potential of becoming much, much worse. Only God knew how long those poor saps could survive such tortuous treatment. And when al-Rashad was finished with them, we knew we'd have only a slim chance of rescuing Hawkins and Bell. Meanwhile, we'd all have to act our parts as though our lives depended on them, which, of course, they did.
So, that's how we ended up carrying out an attack against our own comrades. Using the captured codes, al-Rashad was able to listen in on the 'dummy' network our Special Forces units had established to make him believe the codes were valid. Once he discovered the route and the time of the next American patrol, he gave us the information. Then he stood around and watched as I put together the IED we planned to use in that evening's attack. I purposely made a few mistakes here and there so that Badr could make a big show of correcting my ineptness.
At one point, al-Rashad smirked at me and said, "I hope that thing works tonight or you'll be spoiling all my fun."
Thankfully, our little skirmish that night was actually just a big 'show.' Since this was one of the scenarios we'd rehearsed when we were back at Fort Bragg, we were able to coordinate the entire operation with one of the local U.S. Special Forces teams. Of course, there were many risks associated with this sort of operation, but every man knew exactly when and where to fire and – more importantly – exactly when and where not to fire. Al-Rashad, the sadistic bastard, had stayed close by to watch me 'prove' myself. I truly wanted to kill him right then and there, but I knew he had to remain alive so we could monitor the progress of our campaign of misinformation.
After several minutes of firing shots back and forth, someone hit a nearby 50-gallon metal barrel. The container must have held some sort of gasoline or oil, because it exploded into a fiery mess. Unfortunately, this wasn't part of our plan, so the SF soldiers removed themselves from the scene as quickly as possible, before any of us really got hurt. I glanced around and saw that al-Rashad was nowhere to be seen.
"Hassaan! Hassaan! We have to move – now, my brother!"
Bobby's quiet, but insistent, voice cut through the haze of smoke around me. I nodded grimly and crept backward along the side of the building to maintain adequate cover as he, Badr and I retreated into the shadows. When I wiped the sweat off my brow, I realized I was bleeding. Shit! I must have been hit by a piece of shrapnel when the barrel exploded.
Al-Rashad and his two bodyguards were waiting for us, standing in the shadow of the entryway to our house when we arrived. After taking a deep drag on his cigarette, the man congratulated us on a job well-done. Then he flicked away the cigarette butt, opened his arms toward me and smiled.
"I told you we'd celebrate tonight," he smirked as he clasped my hands. "And I was right. You all did very well – especially you, Hassaan. I can see that you have shed blood for our glorious cause. If all goes well, I will have a very special job for you in the near future."
Lucky me, I'd passed his damn test. Not surprisingly, now that he'd had his first taste of victory in verifying the validity of the codes, al-Rashad gave me and Bobby/Jamaal the task of setting up several ambushes against the American troops. After contacting our SF buddies, who were less than enthusiastic about putting on more 'shows,' we were able to set up three future incidents to convince the local Al-Qaeda cells of their complete success. Although it promised to be a rough couple of weeks, al-Rashad and his handlers had played right into our hands.
TBC