15

 

The Situation Room

The White House

Washington, DC

Between the Rivet Joint eavesdropping plane and satellite coverage, President Camara had hoped to glean something from the conversation between bin Rahman and Bahadur. But there had been only silence. Whatever the two men were discussing, they’d have to learn about it from secondhand accounts.

Not only was there no way to discern the nature of the talks, but they were forced to sit on their hands, unable to take any action against a man they’d sought for years as one of the most-hunted terrorists in the world.

The president stood up from his chair at the end of the large table in the Sit Room and began to pace. “We can’t strike surgically? Really?” he asked no one in particular.

A half dozen of his most senior national security staff said nothing. They knew Camara was frustrated. But they also knew there was nothing they could do—not until bin Rahman left the house and made his way back through Pakistan.

Finally, the president’s secretary of defense, Senator Dan Johnson, spoke up. “Mr. President, we’ve looked at every conceivable scenario,” he said, glancing briefly at John Alton, the army general who served as the vice chair of the joint chiefs at the White House. “We don’t have anything quite that precise.”

“Seriously?” asked Camara. “What about the X37B we have up in the air?”

The X37B was easily the most closely held spacecraft the US had developed. Only the Gang of Eight in Congress—the Republican and Democratic leaders of the Senate and House of Representatives, and the chair and ranking members of both Intelligence committees for the two chambers—knew its real cost or what its true mission was. All the press knew was that a prototype of the thirty-foot craft had once been launched from Cape Canaveral using an Atlas V rocket, which looked something like a tiny space shuttle, and that it operated like an orbital test vehicle.

A couple of the military trade journals had speculated that one potential use was to launch small, directed satellites over a specific trouble spot during a conflict, giving the military highly specific “eyes and ears” over that location.

The X37B had begun as a NASA program in the 1990s. But it had been transferred to the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency and then to the air force. A recent prototype had been able to test a new generation of laser systems.

“It’s helping us,” said Johnson. “It’s one reason we were able to track bin Rahman so quickly. But we can’t pick up conversations with it.”

“And the laser system?”

“Not even remotely that specific,” Johnson said.

The president sighed. “All right. Then what about that system we launched with the Minotaur from Vandenberg? What did you call it—the Prompt Global Strike?”

Senator Johnson shook his head. “It’s just a prototype. It isn’t operational.”

“But your staff said it can hit any target, anywhere in the world, within a matter of minutes. That it could hit any site, from bin Rahman’s safe house in Pakistan to a North Korean launch pad.”

“Yes, it was designed with that in mind,” Johnson said. “But it’s a future weapons system, and it isn’t nearly that specific. It would take out the house, along with everyone in it.”

“Well,” Camara said glumly, “then what good is it?”

The door to the Sit Room swung open. DJ followed Dr. Gould in and scanned the room to see who was with the president. As always, he couldn’t believe they allowed him access to these sorts of meetings. But the president had made it very clear to the NSC staff that DJ could be trusted.

DJ had to smile as he saw the group of aides assembled around the table. Just as he’d thought, the president’s national security advisor, General Thomas, wasn’t here. In his place at the table was Susan Wright, the deputy national security advisor. Senator Johnson, the secretary of defense, was next to her.

“About time you bothered to show up, Anshel,” the president said dourly.

“The Saudi ambassador is here,” Dr. Gould answered.

“Here? At the White House?” Camara asked.

“Yes, at the driveway. He wants to see you. He knows we’ve acquired bin Rahman, based on their human intelligence asset in Pakistan. And he wants you to take action.”

Camara frowned. “I’d like nothing better. But we can’t—not while he’s with Bahadur.”

“I know,” Dr. Gould said. “I said as much to the ambassador, without revealing too much. But you know, he’ll see all of this in the shared transcript at some point.”

“Undoubtedly, but he’ll also see why our hands are tied,” the president said.

“He won’t care,” Dr. Gould responded. “As he said, he doesn’t care if bin Rahman is meeting with the Supreme Leader of Iran himself. We have a moral obligation to act, or something to that effect, because bin Rahman attacked their future king.”

“Easy enough for him to say,” Camara said. “He isn’t managing peace talks with Iran and North Korea while several Arab nations are overthrowing their dictators on a weekly basis. We have to be exceedingly careful. Our shot at bin Rahman has to be clean, without complications that involve Iran’s leadership.”

“I understand,” Dr. Gould said. “But the Saudi ambassador will not. And he is demanding that we give them the same intelligence, if we will not act, so that they can do something themselves.”

The president turned his attention back to the table. He glanced at the array of monitors around the room that displayed real-time information and signatures. It was maddening to have bin Rahman in sight at last, yet not be able to act.

“What if we tell Iran’s leadership that we thought bin Rahman was alone in the house?” the president asked plaintively.

Susan Wright leaned forward. “We all know that won’t work,” she said evenly. “Iran knows what we’re capable of. It wouldn’t be credible.”

“Well, maybe I don’t care,” Camara said. “How can we simply sit here—and not act?”

There was an uneasy silence in the room. “Because we—as a preeminent superpower—are expected to at least try to do the right thing,” Dr. Wright offered finally. “And the right thing here is to give peace with Iran a chance, for the greater good. We have no choice but to wait until bin Rahman has left the house in order to return to Pakistan.”

“And if he doesn’t return to Pakistan?” asked the president.

“Then we’ll have to cross that next bridge,” Dr. Wright answered.