“There’s a leak. Jabir knew we were assigned to the rescue mission, general,” Connor complained angrily. “Either he’s able to intercept our comms traffic, or some of those ANA who wander in and out of Camp Delta are passing on information.”
General Patterson squirmed in his chair. “We’ll tighten security.”
“A bit late for that! And you say the president’s read my report but still insists on delivering his speech this evening. Does he want to die? He’s crazy. Why can’t he make his speech from somewhere else, somewhere safe?”
Unable to offer an explanation, Patterson shrugged. “At least he’s agreed to wear body armour, and he’ll be surrounded by both our guys and his most trusted bodyguards. Press access is restricted, and we’ll have drones and snipers covering the whole area. When the time comes we’ll also jam all mobile phone signals for a radius of three kilometres, so there’s no chance of remote detonation of a hidden bomb.”
“It isn’t enough, sir. I know Jabir.”
“Listen, major, you’re tired and you and your men are beat up. You need to rest. When all is said and done, we can only do so much. The Afghan president accepts that he’s the one making the final call. And, anyway, don’t you think it’s possible that Jabir is messing with us?”
Exasperated, Connor slammed his fist on the general’s desk, scattering the neatly set out line of pens and pencils. “No. The president’s the target. I’m sure of it.”
Connor had overstepped the mark. The general’s expression darkened. “You’re dismissed, major. Get some shut-eye. That’s an order. It’s ten o’clock now. We’ll review the latest intel at 1500 hours. The president isn’t making his speech until 1900 hours, so there’s still time to try to figure out exactly what’s going on here.”
Connor had been to visit Danny and Ben in the medical centre. They’d been pretty knocked about in the bomb blast, but the docs had given them the all-clear for operations. Now he lay on his bunk in his tent. The stifling heat was almost overwhelming and sweat glistened from every pore of his skin. No way could he sleep, despite being exhausted. Tossing and turning, Jabir’s grinning face occupied his thoughts alongside the nightmarish image of the headless corpses of Khalid and Baxter. Over and over, he tried to figure out how Jabir planned to assassinate the Afghan president.
By revealing the target, Jabir would surely realise that no one could get anywhere near the president. A Taliban sniper would either have to be fantastically well hidden or would be too far away to guarantee the shot. Connor pressed his eyes shut and thought about how he would pull off what seemed impossible.
His mind drew a blank. So instead he thought of all the audacious things Jabir Hassani had done in the past. He knew Jabir’s career as a Taliban commander had been long and horrifically successful, small raids on ISAF checkpoints being followed by attacks on convoys, FOBs and electricity sub-stations. Finally, Jabir had graduated to major uprisings in towns and cities. Jabir was ambitious. He thought “big”, wanting to make the sort of impact that made headlines; that made the world sit up and pay attention.
Think big. Very big. Connor suddenly shot upright. “Of course!”
Up in a flash, he ran across Camp Delta’s parade ground and crashed through the door to the Ops Room.
Startled, Lieutenant Sharp jumped in his chair.
“Show me the visuals from our drones. Those covering where the president’s going to make his speech near the dam,” Connor demanded.
“Of course, major.” Sharp tapped on his laptop to bring up the live drone camera feeds. “There you go, sir. Actually, I was just about to come and find you.”
“Why?” Connor asked, only half listening. He was squinting at the laptop’s split screen, which displayed four real-time camera inputs from two separate drones.
“At about the time of your helo evac in the valley last night, our comms surveillance unit intercepted a mobile phone call originating nearby.”
“And?”
“It was to Jabir Hassani. Like to listen to it?”
Connor stopped what he was doing and nodded. Sharp hit another key on his laptop.
“……They have been deceived. It is enough of a victory for one day. Tomorrow, they shall all die. Well done, Shafiq. Come and join us. We shall watch them die together.”
A shiver ran down Connor’s back. “Don’t suppose they got a fix on Jabir’s phone’s location, did they?”
“Yes. It was to the north. But it’s of no use, sir. He was on the move and the phone was switched off immediately after the call. He could be anywhere by now.”
“Damn!” Connor tightened his fist.
Sharp grinned. “But they have managed to track the phone of the sender, the one called Shafiq. He left his phone powered on. He was on the move for three hours. Finally, he stopped here, sir.” He flipped screens to show a map. A blinking red dot marked the location.
“They’re in the mountains,” Connor observed. “About three kilometres from the Dhala dam.”
“Yes, major. A splendid panoramic view, I reckon. I’ve asked that a high-altitude Predator drone is diverted to scan the area.”
Connor nodded. “Good. Yes, it all fits… Get General Patterson and everyone else down here. They’re going to want to hear this.”
“Hear what exactly, sir?”
“That I’ve figured it out… Jabir’s going to blow the dam! And as a wall of water pours down towards Kandahar, Jabir will be watching it sweep away the president and everyone else.”
The blood drained from Sharp’s face. “B—B—But thousands of people will drown. Maybe tens of thousands. There isn’t time to evacuate.”
“Then we’d better stop it from happening.”