A three-hour drive and a just under three-hour flight later, he and Ziva finally landed at Guantanamo Bay Naval Base, a small plan of action being established on their trip there. Not like there was much else to do.
Jethro shifted slightly in his canvas seat and then addressed his agent. "I need you to listen, Ziver. You're fluent in Arabic. I won't know all the nuances like you. Every word, every phrase. Be on the lookout for subtext, ulterior meanings." As for Jethro, his goal was simple. To get El-Sayed talking about anything.
It wasn't the first time that he had been to this particular naval base, but it also wasn't exactly a trip that one looked forward to.
A man walked up to them while they were still on the airfield. "Welcome to Gitmo. I'm Special Agent Adam Murdock, the intelligence supervisor here."
He dipped his head slightly. "Special Agent Jethro Gibbs."
"Special Agent Ziva David," the young Israeli added.
"Fornell told me you two are good," Murdock said. "Glad to have the help."
"You guys having a hard time getting Karim El-Sayed to talk?" he inquired.
"Not only can't they get him to budge," Murdock stated, "but two weeks ago, word got out that one of the other detainees was spilling secrets. El-Sayed managed to have a three-minute conversation with him in the shower line. That night, the other detainee committed suicide." The man gestured over towards a white car. "That's yours. There's a map inside. They're putting you up in one of the nicer houses here on base."
He gave the man a small smile. "It's appreciated, Special Agent Murdock."
The pair made their way to their temporary quarters to drop off their bags. Once they were settled in, they started going over the transcripts of El-Sayed's interrogations.
Once they'd done some reading up on the detainee, they headed across the base to the detention camp where Karim El-Sayed was being held so that that they could get down to business.
They observed El-Sayed on a camera from a room not far from the man's cell for a few minutes, trying to establish a baseline for reading the detainee.
"He is reciting the Qu'ran from memory," Ziva stated. "He is most likely a hafez."
Murdock swiftly shot the young Israeli a pointed look. "Man must have done it at least a dozen times since he's come to this facility."
Ziva shrugged. "Some Muslim children are able to do it since age twelve."
"Two months of interrogation," Murdock commented with a vague gesture towards the surveillance footage, "that's all the CIA's been able to get out of him."
Ziva watched the live feed for a moment. "There are cuts and bruises under his right eye socket. I assume they are using the standard enhanced interrogation techniques?"
"I control the access to the detainees," Murdock informed them, "but I can assure you, my protest about their methods has been ignored."
"Let the interrogation proceed normally," he requested without missing a beat. Neither Jethro nor Ziva were exactly squeamish when it came to this type of thing. "I'm gonna interrupt 'em and demand they stop harassing."
Murdock looked a bit hesitant. "Maybe I should tell them in advance."
"No," he replied. "It's better if they don't expect it. Their reaction will be more visceral, more believable." El-Sayed wasn't stupid and he'd only get one chance at establishing rapport with the detainee.
Murdock pulled out his walky-talky. "Go ahead with Phase Two as planned."
"Copy that," one of the interrogators replied.
Putting the walky-talky away once more, the FBI agent turned back to him. "You really gonna put a show on for these guys?"
"No," he said. "Not for them. For El-Sayed. He needs to see me as a complete contrast to what he's come to expect from his captors."
"It is the best way to jump-start him into talking," Ziva added. "We have got less than thirty-six hours to get him to tell us what he knows."
The FBI agent nodded and made a vague gesture with his hand. "Have at it."
Jethro eyed both of the agents. "You two ready?"
"Yeah," Murdock said, gesturing in the direction of the cell. "This way."
He nodded, moving to follow the younger man. "Thank you."
Jethro walked into the cell with purpose, interrupting the interrogation and placing an orange jumpsuit down on the man's lap once the two rather irritated CIA interrogators had closed the cell door behind them.
"I'm sorry for the treatment you've suffered," he said, doing his best to sound sincere. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk with you." I've got the man's attention. He's stopped his recitation. He's sizing me up.
"If I don't mind?" El-Sayed asked.
"Like to get to know you as a person," he replied. "Your faith, your ideology."
The detainee was intrigued. "To what end?"
"It's complicated," he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "I've seen war." Jethro paused deliberately for a beat. "I'd like to believe, with greater understanding, one day we can come to a peaceful resolution of our differences."
"Is that so?" the man pressed.
He leaned forward in his chair slightly. "Look, I don't know what you've done or what you may have planned to do." Jethro locked eyes with the man. "But unlike the other detainees here, you have the education, intelligence to convey the nuances of your culture. That's what interests me."
"Until I don't give you what you want," the detainee countered. "Then you will resort to other tactics."
"I swore an oath to uphold the United States constitution," he immediately countered. "No matter where I am. No matter who I deal with. Are you willing to have a chat with me?"
"Go ahead, Gibbs." Good, it was working. "Let's chat."
Jethro decided to wait for the other man to make a move.
El-Sayed eyed him. "What type of name is Gibbs?"
"American," he replied simply.
The detainee dipped his head slightly. "I often forget that in your culture you put your country first and your god last."
Ziva spoke through the earwig he was wearing. "Gibbs, don't react. Tony and Fornell found a list of chemicals. Abby said it looks like a list of additives needed to weaponize anthrax."
Jethro forced himself to keep his expression calm and inquisitive. "You don't consider yourself Egyptian andMuslim?"
"You spoke up against those thugs," El-Sayed commented.
He gave a little hum in response. "Well, let's just say that they and I have... very, very different motives and methodologies."
"And yet your country relies on them to protect you from us," the detainee said.
"Yeah," he said, "Well, sometimes they're their own worst enemy."
"Yeah," El-Sayed agreed. "Who is your worst enemy, agent Gibbs?"
"It's not a who," he said. "It's a what. Ignorance."
El-Sayed looked impressed. "You're a very honest man."
"And you?" he asked. "Must have become a hafez by what, age ten?"
"Nine," the man swiftly corrected.
Jethro nodded, sitting up straighter. "Any person with the discipline and dedication to memorize the entire Qu'ran by age nine must have a very serious reason to choose a life of violence."
"Perhaps," El-Sayed replied simply.
"You lost your son, Salim. A bombing in Cairo when he was eight." Jethro watched the man's expression as he spoke. "I've been there, Karim. My daughter, Kelly… she was taken from me when she was eight. She and my wife Shannon were driving home one day and they never made it." He'd felt weird taking off his wedding ring before coming in, but he needed to connect with the man seated in front of him if they were going to have any hope of getting anywhere.
El-Sayed tilted his head. "It was not an accident."
"No," he said gravely. "It wasn't." Jethro then stood up, intending to leave.
El-Sayed was visibly surprised. "We are through already?"
"No," he replied. "Not at all. The sun's about to set." He then tilted his head slightly in gesture. "Mecca's in that direction. I'll have a prayer rug and water bowl sent in."
Hopefully, this momentary compassion would be enough to establish rapport. They were on the clock, unfortunately.
Murdock eyed Jethro inquisitively once he'd met back up with them. "The sun's not due to set for another hour or so?"
"He's too smart to have had that Nextel phone registered to him accidentally," Jethro said. "He drew us there. He wants us here to confirm that his attack is successful."
"And that's why you're moving up the time of his prayers," the man said as he caught onto the game Jethro was playing. "So you can confirm it later and have him spill the tea bragging before the attack."
He nodded. "If I use an actual clock, he might catch on."
"It's a risky move," Ziva said.
"But if it works," he countered, "it'll pay off in dividends."
Murdock shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Come on. I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry. Let's run to the galley and grab some chow."
"Good by me," he said.
"And me," Ziva agreed.
Sucking up to a terrorist dirtbag was hardly one of Jethro's favourite past-times. As such, he was quite glad to get out of there. Still, if it got them the information they needed to stop the attack they were planning, it was more than worth it.
Jethro was in for an interesting next few days, though. That much was evident.
