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Waiting to execute is an advisable strategy in hostage negotiations. It allows the negotiations process to take hold, intelligence to be gathered, and the rescue team to practice and appropriately prepare to execute a skillful recovery plan. To this point in the crisis, negotiations had been effective on three fronts: 1. Al-Baklavi’s demands had been considerably whittled down. 2. Ongoing talks and agreed-upon delays led to important reconnaissance missions and actionable intelligence about the location of the hostages and terrorists. 3. The rescue operatives were able to develop, repetitively practice, fine-tune, and effectively amend the rescue plan.
The time had come for what Parsons and Zack presumed would be the last telephonic ransom and hostage recovery negotiation. When Al-Baklavi and Blake last spoke, the terrorist reduced his demand to five million dollars within thirty-six hours. Twenty-four hours had passed, leaving the parties a million and a half apart with a maximum of twelve hours to reach an agreement.
When the call finally came, Zack’s goal was to negotiate a twelve-hour increase in the timeline, which would move the exchange to the evening hours. The time difference was crucial because it would provide the rescue team cover of darkness to carry out its mission. The plan included assuring the safety of the negotiating team. By design, Jack Dylan and Shaheed Ali were made part of the negotiating team and placed in charge of Zack’s personal security. The two veteran police officers took their work seriously and understood the importance of the assignment. Dylan, true to form, couldn’t resist needling Blake about the two cops’ role in the mission.
“Yeah,” Jack stretched and yawned, feigning boredom. “I guess Parsons didn’t consider you important enough to be guarded by the ‘A’ team, so he created a ‘B’ team to protect your ass,” he chuckled. “A young mother is a much more important commodity than a scum-sucking lawyer, wouldn’t you say, Shaheed? Say, what’s the difference between a lawyer and a catfish?”
“I don’t know, Jack. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a catfish?” Shaheed played along.
“One is a scum-sucking bottom-feeder and the other is a fish.” Zack and Jack revealed, simultaneously, conflicting attitudes.
“Jinx!” Zack yelled, recalling a childhood game. The first to cry ‘jinx’ after two people spoke the same words, at the same time, had the power to prevent the other from speaking again until the jinx caller freed him to speak.
“Screw you, Blake. ‘Jinx’ is for kids,” Jack muttered.
“So are lawyer jokes, asshole,” Zack retorted.
“Especially when the lawyer you joke about is responsible for the freedom you currently enjoy,” Shaheed playfully rebuked.
“Yeah, you ungrateful bastard, everyone hates lawyers until they need one,” Zack blustered.
Jack became serious. “No one loves and appreciates you more than I do,” he conceded. “You saved my ass in Manistee. It will be my pleasure to protect yours in Syria.”
“I did my job. Just make sure you do yours,” Zack challenged.
“You can count on me, Zack.”
“Me, too,” Shaheed added.
“I am lucky to count you two among my friends,” Zack admitted.
“Us, too,” Shaheed and Jack responded.
“Jinx!” Jack shouted.
***
A few minutes later, the telephone rang, and everyone became dead serious. Zack and the usual participants picked up their respective receivers. A call recorder was automatically activated.
“Do you have the money?” The caller demanded.
“Yes, but there is one little . . . uh . . . hitch.”
“Hitch?” The caller gasped.
“The bank needs more time to convert the money to fifties. We can get the five million bucks in twenty-four hours, but not in twelve.” This was a vital part of the plan—mission success probability was far greater under cover of darkness than in daylight hours. Would Al-Baklavi detect the ruse? The long period of silence on the other end of the line was deafening.
“Agreed,” Al-Baklavi finally whispered.
“Wonderful, how shall we make the exchange?”
“ I will contact you in twenty-two hours.”
“Works for me,” Zack acknowledged. “Hello? Hello?” Al-Baklavi was gone.
“The guy’s a brilliant conversationalist,” Zack quipped.
***
The operations strategy was to have two strike teams. A larger team would storm the compound where the hostages were being held. A smaller team, including Dylan and Ali, would protect negotiating personnel at the proposed exchange site. The plan was for the larger team to hit the target site forty-five minutes to an hour before the proposed exchange meeting, depending upon its proximity to the compound.
After the telephone call, drills began again in earnest. The negotiating team practiced various scenarios in anticipation of a strike occurring before, during, and after the meet. Would Al-Baklavi bring the hostages? Did he intend to appear in person? For obvious reasons, Zack, Jack, and Shaheed hoped that the rescue mission resolved the crisis well before the planned meeting time.
The rescue team continued to fine-tune operational techniques and strategy. Rescue drills were conducted, ad nauseam. Parsons decided to surround the compound in twenty to twenty-one hours and commence the rescue operation simultaneous with Al-Baklavi’s call. The terrorist’s guard would be down at that juncture, as he would be engaged in a discussion about how and where the exchange would be made. Instead, all hell would break loose. The deception and surprise elements of the operation would completely disorient the terrorists, giving the assault team precious time to dominate and eliminate any remaining threat to the hostages. Reconnaissance missions provided the team with more specific details such as the number of terrorists and their choice of weapons, the geography of the compound, location of the hostages, and number of guards assigned to them. Almost nothing was left to chance. Parsons felt good about the prospects for success. He called a halt to all mission maneuvers and ordered the men to get a good night’s sleep.
***
The following morning, the men continued to practice operational maneuvers. Strategists discussed ‘if this then that’ scenarios, trying to cover all possible contingencies and outcomes. All scenarios placed hostage safety and recovery at the forefront. As they observed from the command table, Zack, Shaheed, and Jack marveled at the expertise and professionalism of the operatives.
“These guys should train local, state, and federal officers,” Zack opined, expecting pushback from Shaheed and Jack.
“I must admit, they are unbelievably proficient,” Jack agreed. “As we have learned, a team can practice as much as it wants. The key is to execute in the actual operation as well as it does in drills.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Shaheed noted.
“True, but practice is still practice. Hopefully, their execution in real-life situations is as flawless as their preparatory drills. How do they think and adjust on the fly to situations on the ground? What if things are not exactly as they seem? We had that experience dealing with Blaine and Breitner, remember?”
“All too well,” Shaheed recalled.
‘Blaine and Breitner’ were white supremacists Jack and Shaheed went toe-to-toe with back in the day. Benjamin Blaine kidnapped Arya Khan, now Shaheed Ali’s wife, after Zack Blake proved her innocent of another white supremacist’s murder. Bart Breitner was a Blaine protégé who sought revenge against Dylan and Blake for Blaine’s downfall. Breitner devised and attempted to implement a chemical weapons attack against the Dearborn Police. Jack and his team foiled the plot, chased down Breitner, caught up with him in Manistee, and found himself on trial for the terrorist’s murder. Zack flew to Manistee to represent Jack, and, in the aftermath of the trial, the men became friends.
“As a devout pacifist, I hope they’re as good as they appear to be. I’d prefer to skip negotiating with a psychopathic terrorist who wouldn’t mind a rendezvous with seventy-two virgins in heaven,” Zack cracked.
“Amen to that, counselor. A successful operation would make all of our jobs easier.”
***
While Zack, Jack, and Shaheed were reminiscing about white supremacists, Canan and Hana were eating some type of breakfast mush that resembled cream of wheat but tasted like cardboard. Rima was assigned to get them prepared for the exchange.
Aside from the foul taste of the food, Canan had no appetite—she was too apprehensive. Will money satisfy this brutish terrorist? Will he honor his word? Or are murder, mayhem, and terror the only language he understands? What would happen to Hana if something happened to me? Will they imprison her and turn her into one of them? She shuddered at the thought and hugged herself.
“What is it, pretty one?” Rima noticed Canan’s distress.
“Nothing. Just thinking. Is it almost time for the exchange? I worry Al-Baklavi won’t keep his word. What will become of us?”
“He has done this a few times before and kept his word,” Rima softened.
“With the United States on the other side?” Canan wondered.
“Well . . . no, never with the United States, with western countries aligned with the United States.”
“This man would probably like nothing more than to embarrass the United States,” Canan presumed.
“Probably true. But he loves himself and American dollars. I do not think he will break his promise.”
“Have they actually reached a final agreement? We have no money. Where is this money coming from? Are you sure it was promised?”
“That is my understanding. I am a woman. In Syria, a woman does not have a role in these matters. My only job is to attend to you and your beautiful daughter.”
“Thank you,” Canan's eyes darted toward Hana, happily eating the dreadful breakfast concoction. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? You won’t let anything happen to her, will you?” Canan pleaded.
“No, my pretty one. I will do everything in my power to protect both of you.”
Hana sensed the women were talking about her. She stopped eating and glanced at the two of them. She had mush all over her face. “Mama?” she mumbled, spitting out cereal as she spoke.
“Everything is fine, precious. Finish your breakfast.” Canan smiled at Hana and turned to Rima, grim-faced. “I’m counting on you.”
***
Approximately ten hours later, the telephones rang at the Parsons Security command center. As all participants practiced, each silently mouthed a three count and simultaneously picked up receivers. Once again, the call recorder automatically clicked on. Zachary Blake said nothing, waiting on the caller.
“Has all been arranged?” Al-Baklavi demanded.
“Yes,” Zack lied.
“You have the money in fifties?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. We can set up the exchange.”
“We want proof of life.”
“Hold.”
The phone went silent. Minutes and seconds seemed like hours.
“H-hello?” A timid female voice came on the line. “To whom am I speaking?”
“My name is Zachary Blake. Is this Canan Izady?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Izady, I am so sorry to meet you under these circumstances. Your husband has asked me to negotiate your safe return home. Just to confirm you are who you say you are, what is your husband’s name, and where do you live?”
“My husband’s name is Karim. We live in Dearborn.”
“Very good. How are you and the child doing? Have you been harmed in any way? How is Hana doing without her heart medication?” Zack floated the ruse, hoping she’d catch it and play along.
“Med . . .? Oh . . . yes . . . she needs her medication. So far, though, she seems to be holding up. She’s scared. We’re both scared. We have not been seriously harmed, roughed up a bit.”
Quick study—can think on her feet. “Thank you, Ms. Izady. Hang in there. We will do everything we can to get you out of there. Let me speak to . . .”
Al-Baklavi abruptly cut Zack off mid-sentence. “I am here. You are speaking to me. As you can see, the woman and child are fine.”
“Roughed up a bit is not fine.”
“These are rough conditions. That is all she is referring to. Confirm, please. Everything is in place?”
“It will be. The child must have her medication. Would you consider an early compassionate release of the child, so we can get her medical care and the medicine she needs? You keep the mother, and the numbers remain the same. How about it? This would make things much more cordial,” Zack pleaded.
“The child is fine. No more negotiating. Do we have a deal or not?”
“When and where do we make the exchange?”
“So you can prepare an ambush? Stupid, I am not, Mr. Blake. I will make contact one half-hour before the time of exchange. And if I see any sign of Syrian military or U.S. operatives, I will execute the woman and child.”
“Seven hours?”
“Maybe.”
“We will need more than one half-hour to get to the exchange site. We don’t know where we’re going or what type of vehicles we need,” Zack argued. Al-Baklavi did not respond.
“Hello?” Zack cried. “Son-of-a-bitch! He’s gone! I hate this asshole!”
“We got what we needed. It appears the timetable is seven hours. Al-Baklavi may now be wondering about the health of the child, one more item to worry about. It will be dark well before the time set for the exchange, which will permit us to launch and execute the assault and rescue operation effectively and efficiently. We could not have asked for more optimum ground conditions. They’ll never know what hit them. The deception and surprise elements of the operation are in place. All we need to do is execute with precision.” Parsons rallied the troops.
“This may be Monday morning quarterbacking, but wouldn’t it be better to stage the rescue at the exchange? Better yet, perhaps we just pay the ransom and finish the negotiation without resorting to violence.” Jack suggested. “Let them bring the hostages to us, one way or the other, so to speak.”
“That is what Al-Baklavi expects us to do. He’s expecting a smooth exchange or some kind of heroics at that time. He has no idea a paramilitary operation is planned or that high-level operatives are in place. He has no idea we know where he is holding the hostages. He has no idea we have reconnoitered the site.
“Surprise is an important factor in these types of rescues. Past successful rescue operations have featured both deception and surprise. We have been able to obtain surprisingly detailed and solid intelligence. We know the layout and how many terrorists are in the compound. We also know where the hostages are located and how many people are assigned to that area. We’ve had excellent, almost pinpoint reconnaissance. The plan is solid—we’re ready to implement. Trust me, Dylan, all we need to do now is execute. These guys are the best in the business.” He turned to and proudly watched his men engaged in training exercises.
“I will defer to your expertise,” Jack capitulated. He shrugged. His eyes shifted to Shaheed and Zack, seeking their silent opinions. Their expressions suggested assent to the plan, with deference to Parsons’ careful planning, training, and experience.
“Everything will be fine, Jack. These guys are unbelievable!” Zack encouraged, wondering if he really believed it.
