Camp Lemonnier, Djibouti, Africa
The worst part was the waiting, Dre thought.
After they hatched the plan to trace the Mahdi after his next attack, Don divided the team into six-hour rotating watch sections.
For Dre, a day defined into six-hour segments felt strangely comforting, like she was back in a watch rotation on the Murphy. She and Janet took the evening watch and the morning watch, while Shira and Michael took the graveyard shift and the afternoon shift.
On the evening watch of the sixth day, Don Riley burst through the door of their SCIF. “It’s happening,” he said. “Turn on Al Jazeera. There’s been another attack.”
The news anchor on Al Jazeera was a trim, middle-aged man in a dove-gray jacket, matching tie, and carefully coiffed hair. He stared at the camera and said in a modulated English accent, “There has been an attack near Toshka in southern Egypt, on the border with Sudan. Initial reports are that upwards of two dozen people have been killed, and the Sheikh Zayed Canal system required to irrigate the new desert city has been heavily damaged.”
Janet was already checking out unclassified internet news sites as well as the classified networks. Already mobile-phone video clips were showing up of smoke pouring out of a large concrete building set in the middle of a body of water.
They switched back to Al Jazeera, which now had a guest on to discuss the economics of the new desert city and the impact of the bombing on the region.
The expert was a professor from Cairo University who spoke in very precise English. “The Sheikh Zayed Canal complex is a system of pumping stations, locks, and canals that deliver water from Lake Nasser to an ever-expanding Egyptian domestic agricultural sector,” he said. The screen changed to show a close-up of the region. “The Toshka Lakes shown on this map represent what the Egyptian government likes to call a ‘new desert city.’ Using water from the Nile, we have transformed hundreds of thousands of acres of desert into productive farmland. Literally millions of people rely on the Toshka project for their daily sustenance. This is not an attack on infrastructure. This is an attack on the people of Egypt.”
“But what about the possibility that this act was done in retaliation for some of the attacks on upstream dam projects in the Nile River basin?” the announcer asked.
“This attack is the work of those who want to control the Nile River,” the professor said emphatically. “Our neighbors to the south. Sudan and Ethiopia, to be exact.”
“And what about the terrorist known as the Mahdi?” the news anchor pressed. “How does he fit into all this?”
The professor’s careful accent began to break down as he became more agitated. “He is a fraud. This so-called messiah who claims to want to unite Islam does nothing but tear us apart. The real perpetrators of this attack are those who seek to take the lifeblood of the Nile away from Egypt.”
Don muted the television. “Any activity from the Mahdi website?” he asked.
Dre shook her head. “Not yet. In prior attacks, it took hours before there was a claim.”
Finally, Michael and Shira arrived together. Shira’s eyes flitted from Dre to Janet, and two spots of color formed high on her cheeks. Michael took his place at his workstation.
“All right, people, let’s be ready,” Don said. “When this goes down, we’ll only have a few minutes and we need to make them count.”
Time dragged on with no sign of activity from the Mahdi website. Don switched back on the TV sound.
The tenor of the conversation had definitely shifted to a more aggressive tone. The Egyptian Defense Ministry released a statement saying that they would vigorously defend Egypt’s natural resources and issued mobilization orders to move troops south to the border with Sudan. There was an implicit rebuke of Sudan and Ethiopia in the statement, and both countries responded with angry denials of any wrongdoing.
“He’s broadcasting,” Janet announced, her voice pitched with excitement.
After the verbal fireworks on TV, the claim of responsibility by the Mahdi felt almost tame in comparison. The Mahdi began his broadcast with the same background music and the well-appointed sitting room.
The atmosphere in the room went electric with anticipation. Dre called up the IP trace program.
“Initiating the tracker program now,” she said, hitting the return key on her workstation.
“Put it on the big board, please,” Don said.
Dre threw her feed to the wall screen in the tactical operations center. A map of the world showed with a blinking dot on Iran. Their starting point was the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’s server.
The blinking dot shifted to Geneva.
“It’s taking too long,” Don said. “That was at least ten seconds.”
“We don’t know how many hops he’ll make, Don,” Janet said, but her voice sounded worried. Normally, the Mahdi’s broadcasts only lasted about a minute and a half.
Dre checked her screen. “The next hop is being resolved … looks like—”
The blinking dot moved to Brazil.
“We’ve burned more than forty-five seconds,” Don said.
“The program is working as fast as it can, Don,” Janet said calmly.
Vancouver, Canada.
On the video, the blurred form of the Mahdi was wrapping up with his now-familiar “children of Islam” line.
Tokyo, Japan.
“Come on,” Don said under his breath. “Come on.”
Cape Town, South Africa. The blinking light turned solid.
“We’ve got him,” Dre said. “Shit, he’s gone to a satellite.”
The background music on the video faded. The Mahdi’s broadcast ended on a black screen.
“Well?” Don said.
Dre pulled up the satellite data. It was a GEOStar-3, a common communications satellite that carried traffic for thousands of commercial customers.
“Run down every bit of traffic on that satellite over the last hour,” Don said. “See if we can get any matches with anything we have in the database.”
“Don, that’s not going to give us a location,” Janet said.
Don cursed, a sharp biting sound that stilled the activity in the room.
“I’m sorry,” Don said after a few minutes. “That’s that, I guess.”
“I have an idea, Don,” Michael said. “I’ve been discussing it with Shira, and she thinks I should bring it up to the group.”
Dre and Janet exchanged another glance. He was discussing it with Shira? Since when did Shira rate a discussion before the rest of his team?
“Let’s hear it, Michael,” Don said.
“What if all this is a smoke screen?” Michael said. “What if the Mahdi is just trying to control the news cycle by feeding us what we’re expecting to find?”
“Are we really back to this fake terrorist theory again, Michael?” Don said. “If you’ve got something solid, then let’s hear it.”
Michael shot a glance at Shira, who nodded. “Okay, we have the Ebola virus attack in Yemen. At virtually the same time, the Mahdi launches an attack on the Roseires Dam in Sudan. That’s only one instance, a coincidence, right?”
Don nodded, but his expression was anything but neutral.
Michael continued. “We had another incident in Yemen a few months ago.” He called up a file and threw it to the big screen. Dre scanned the document. A garbled mobile-phone call followed by a Saudi air strike.
“The woman on the call described the bodies as ‘melting,’ and said the entire village was dead. What does that sound like to you?”
Don’s features pinched into a frown. “Single-sourced intel. No backup. That’s weak stuff, Michael.”
Michael touched his keyboard and split the screen. The first Mahdi attack had happened the same day.
“The only difference between the first attack in Yemen and the second was the cease-fire that grounded all the Saudi warplanes. What if the plan had been to destroy the town of Melaba to hide the evidence?”
“That means there would be a connection between the Saudis and the bioweapons test,” Janet said.
“A very senior connection,” Shira added. “Someone who had the ability to call in an air strike on a target.”
Janet jumped in. “Which brings us back to the Saudi bank transfer, which is linked—”
Don held up his hands. “The last time we went down this rabbit hole, Michael, we ended up spending weeks poring through financial transactions instead of doing our day jobs.”
“That idea netted us a good lead, Don,” Janet said, her tone sharp.
Don clenched his hands into fists. His face was red. “If you want me to believe there’s a connection between the Mahdi and bioweapons attacks in Yemen and the Saudis, then we need a whole lot more to support that argument.” He stabbed a finger at Michael.
“Two points make a straight line. If this Mahdi attack is a third point, can you fit the curve? If Michael’s theory is correct, then there’s already been another bioweapons attack. Correct?”
Michael shot a nervous glance at Dre and Janet. “If I’m right, then yes.”
Don pointed at Michael’s workstation. “Then go find it.”