"Fine, Ali," he replied. "I take it you have some news for me."
"Yes, Mr. Wallenger," Ali replied. "Some most interesting information was sent to my mosque. It is saying that a mujahideen taken prisoner by American Special Forces was shot dead. Executed without provocation."
Wallenger had already taken his notebook out and was poised to scribble. "May I have some details?"
"Of course," Ali said. "This has happened in the western part of Afghanistan. There was a fight and the Americans were hidden. They shoot and kill everybody but three mujahideen, who are surrendering and begging for mercy."
"Can you be more specific than just the 'western part' of Afghanistan?"
"It was most close to the Iran border, sir," Ali said. "It was part of the mountains called Gharawdara Highlands. I am told that is the correct manner in which to be pronouncing it."
"Can you spell that?"
"Alas, I am unable to do so in either the Arabic or English alphabet, Mr. Wallenger."
"Never mind, I can look it up on a map," Wallenger said. "Where did this news come from?"
"It is coming from Bahrain, sir."
"Ah, yes!" Wallenger exclaimed. "It must be out of the prison at Station Bravo."
"Yes, sir."
"What was the date of the incident, Ali?"
"It was on fifteen of June, sir, in the morning when the battle is taking place," Ali said.
"Mmm," Wallenger mused. "Okay. Tell me the circumstances in which this information was discovered by the person who reported it."
"He is talking to one of the men in one part of the prison and he tells him about the shooting," Ali explained. "Then the man in prison is saying his friend who was with him is also in the prison." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, slipping it through the slot in the shield behind him.
Wallenger took the scrap and read the names printed in block letters. "Let's see. We have Hamza Qazi and Rahmat Nahayan. And they are both confined in the prison at the American base in Bahrain, true?"
"Yes," Ali answered. "That is true. At Station Bravo."
"Very good," Wallenger said. "Did this person making the report talk to both these men?"
"Yes. And they are telling the same story, Mr. Wallenger."
"Do they know the reason the one man was shot?"
"Yes, Mr. Wallenger. He was hurt and the Americans did not want to carry him. So they killed him."
"Alright," Wallenger said. "Are there any more details?"
"No," Ali replied. "I am assured that this is the whole story."
"Very well," Wallenger said. "I guess that's everything I need. If you get any more information about this, please let me know." He settled back in his seat, feeling very good about the revelation. "You can take me back to the cab stand."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Wallenger."
Ali pulled into the parking lot driveway of the Department of Agriculture and turned around, going back to Independence Avenue for the return trip. Twenty minutes later he pulled up to the cab stand and stopped. Wallenger leaned forward. "I appreciate this information very much, Ali, and I know what to do with it."
"I am most pleased, Mr. Wallenger," Ali said. "We at the mosque know you will use it to be proving the Muslims are innocent victims of American military aggression."
"I certainly will," Wallenger said. "You can depend on me." He pulled five hundred dollars out of his wallet and passed it over to the driver, then got out to return to his office.
DIRK Wallenger worked for GNB--Global News Broadcasting--a cable TV network headquartered in the nation's capital. It was carried by some three hundred independent stations around the country, with a total viewing public of several millions. GNB was known for its antiwar, anti-American government agenda, and Wallenger was its prize commentator. He gained the confidence and admiration of the network's staff on a story he brought out of South America about American Green Berets massacring innocent villagers in the Gran Chaco territory in Bolivia. Demonstrations of rage broke out in all the major urban areas of Latin America as condemnations of the crime were voiced in the United Nations. Even some elements in the U. S. Congress called for special hearings. The usual group of shock jocks, Hollywood stars, and television personalities and journalists with agendas voiced their opinions and assessments of the situation, both pro and con in loudly argumentative segments on special news programs. And, of course, the usual bevy of pundits made up of retired lieutenant colonels from the U. S. Army and Air Force were also on hand to expound on their opinions and assessments of the incident.
Wallenger's moment of glory came at a White House news conference when he confronted Press Secretary Owen Peckham with accusations about the massacre. Although the reporter was more or less blown off by Peckham, he had made a big impression, managing to keep the story going for weeks, even though no proof of its veracity was ever presented.
WHEN Wallenger reached the GNB offices, he went straight to the network president, Don Allen, with the scoop. He couldn't wait to tell Allen about this latest coup, and he was looking forward to the next White House news conference with fierce glee.
.
AL-BAHRSHATT, KUWAIT
7 JULY 1430 HOURS
KHALIL Farouk was the agent-at-large of the Jihad Abadi terrorist group controlled by the Iranian government. The man had been instrumental in recruiting the Englishman Arsalaan Sikes--ne Archibald Sikes--into the organization after talking him into deserting from his British Army unit stationed in Iraq. At the moment Farouk was in this seaside town on the Persian Gulf to recruit mujahideen for a special operation.
The terrorist agent's point of contact was Kaif Jamil, who was coordinator for several insurgent groups scattered throughout the Middle East. Jamil's specialty was the recruitment, training, and placement of suicide bombers. He did his work under the noses of the American forces stationed in the vicinity, and had even sent supernumeraries into Palestine to help out Hamas from time to time. The cover story he used to conceal his true activities from his neighbors was that he managed a labor-hiring contract firm that filled requests for semiskilled workers needed in both industry and agriculture.
At this point in time, Farouk and Jamil were seated in the back room of the latter's place of business, and Jamil stared in unabashed disbelief at Farouk. "How many men did you say you wanted, Brother Farouk?"
"Fifty."
Jamil stared at him open-mouthed for an instant. "Uh . . . you said khamstash, correct?"
"No," Farouk replied. "I said khamsin. Fifty, not fifteen."
"I never inquire into actual locales or purposes in these operations of martyrdom for obvious reasons of security," Jamil said. "But my curiosity is piqued to the extent I almost feel like asking." He cleared his throat. "Ahem. But I shall not."
"How long will it take you to gather the martyrs, and where may I collect them?"
Jamil stroked his beard. "Let me think . . . two weeks, I believe. There are several of our jihaden who are now planning attacks. I am sure they will gladly relinquish some of their shahiden if the cause is great enough."
"I assure you it is a most vital and auspicious sacrifice the shahiden will make," Farouk said. "It will aid in the liberation of an entire Islamic nation from the cruel grip of the infidels."
"I am not surprised, Brother," Jamil said. "The fact that you require fifty sacrificial bombers is most impressive." He leaned back and let out a deep sigh. "Where do you wish these martyrs to assemble for you?"
"In Pakistan," Farouk said. "They are to arrive at Ali Jinnah International Terminal in Karachi. They will fly PIA from two Saudi cities--Al Hadidah and Riyadh--as well as Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. Divide them any way you wish, but the sponsor feels that if they arrive from at least four different locales, it will assure complete security and secrecy."