Howard opened the second file and looked down at a photograph of the blonde woman. It was the same woman who had been pictured in the desert. “This doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Why would the IRA be involved with SEAL snipers?”
“Expertise,” said Sheldon. “Before the 1994 ceasefire they were using a former Green Beret to shoot British soldiers across the border between the north and south. We know who the guy is, we know he’s based in Cork on the west coast of Ireland and we know he uses a Barrett.”
“So why didn’t the IRA use him in the States?”
“Because as soon as he sets foot here, he’ll be arrested. Sheldon passed a third file across the desk. “The second man is Ilich Ramirez Sanchez.” The FBI agent opened it and saw several surveillance photographs of the moustached man with the receding hairline. “You probably know him as Carlos the Jackal, the Venezuelan terrorist responsible for kidnapping OPEC ministers in Vienna in 1975 and a machine-gun attack at Tel Aviv Airport which left twenty-five dead in 1972, and a whole host of other atrocities. We’re still trying to find out how he got away from the French. It would never have happened if we’d caught him, I can tell you. All sorts of alarm bells are ringing over in New York, Cole. It was assumed he was in hiding somewhere in the Middle East. If he’s now in this country. .” He left the sentence unfinished.
Howard scanned the file. Like every law-enforcement officer in the world, he was all too well aware of who Carlos was. There was a list of the terrorist groups he’d been connected with, and it read like a list of Who’s Who in International Terrorism: the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, the Turkish Popular Liberation Front, the Quebec Liberation Front, the Baader-Meinhof Gang, the Japanese Red Army, the Organisation for the Armed Arab Struggle. There was, however, no mention of the IRA. He looked at the photographs again. There was no doubt that it was the same man that had been filmed in the Arizona desert.
“Have you told Sanger yet?” Howard asked.
Sheldon shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you first. I think it would be helpful if you saw Ed Mulholland in New York for a briefing from Counter-Terrorism. I’ll call the White House while you’re en route. Cole, now that we know who is involved, this has the Bureau’s absolute top priority. In view of the way the investigation has progressed, Ed Mulholland will be taking command.”
The news hit Howard like a punch in the stomach. “I have everything under control,” he protested. “I don’t see that. .”
Sheldon held up a hand to silence him. “I understand your feelings, Cole, but it has now become an anti-terrorism matter. We need specialist input, and Ed has seniority. It has to be that way.”
Howard wanted to argue, but he knew that it would be pointless. If a terrorist such as Carlos was involved, then it was only natural that Counter-Terrorism would become involved. And if the section’s director wanted to handle the investigation, he would obviously be the ranking agent.
“I’ve already agreed with Ed that you continue working on the investigation, and that you report to us both, in tandem. The background you already have will be invaluable, and Ed is keen to have you on his team for this one. Is that okay with you?”
Howard sighed. At least he wasn’t being taken off the case. “Based here or in New York?” he asked.
“Wherever Ed wants you,” said Sheldon, “though from what you’ve told me it looks as if your focus is going to be the East Coast. Do you want to call Kelly back and have her go to New York with you?”
Howard fought back the urge to smile and looked steadily at Sheldon. “She seemed very enthusiastic about following up on the Barrett rifles,” he said, “so maybe we should let her carry on with that. Manpower isn’t going to be a problem, I suppose?”
“Ed will assign you all the men you need on the East Coast and the Secret Service will give you all the help they can.”
“We’re definitely assuming that Carlos and the IRA are after the President?” Howard asked. He thought of the State Department list on his desk. “He’s always been pro-Irish, right? Isn’t it more likely that the IRA would go for a British target?”
Sheldon settled back in his chair. “According to Mulholland, the world’s top terrorists were in Baghdad in the summer of 1991, summoned by Saddam Hussein. Carlos was there, so were the IRA. There were people from the Abu Nidal organisation, the Japanese Red Army, and anyone else who was prepared to do Saddam’s dirty work. He’s long been a supporter of terrorist organisations and after Desert Storm he decided to call in favours owed. We don’t know for sure what Saddam had planned, but it’s clear he was planning revenge against the countries who forced him out of Kuwait.”
“And that’s what our anti-terrorist people think this is about? Revenge for Desert Storm?”
Sheldon nodded. “Remember the attempt to kill George Bush in Kuwait in April ‘93? The car bomb? That was Saddam’s work.”
“And we retaliated with a cruise missile attack on Baghdad. Didn’t that teach him a lesson?”
Sheldon smiled. “The man won’t rest until he’s had his revenge, Cole. It’s an Arab thing. And each time he loses face he becomes even more determined.”
Howard shrugged. “I can’t think why the IRA would want to be involved in a Presidential assassination, but if they were acting for Iraq, then it makes more sense, I guess.”
“They could also be doing it for the oldest reason of all — money,” said Sheldon. “Do you know much about the Irish situation?”
“I know that the IRA are fighting for independence for Ireland. They want the British troops out, and self-determination.”
Sheldon nodded. “That’s fine as far as it goes, but there’s more to it than that. It’s more a struggle for power and money. And if this Jackal character is paying enough, I’m sure Bailey and Hennessy will do exactly what he wants.”
“Even if he wanted to assassinate the President? You think they’d do that?”
“They’ve committed unthinkable atrocities in Britain,” said Sheldon. “Some years ago they blew up Lord Mountbatten while he was in a small boat with a group of children. The boat was reduced to splinters. . there was nothing left of the people. They buried empty coffins.”
Howard shuddered, but he still wasn’t convinced. He could feel a growing sense of panic in his stomach and he tried to quell it. “Now that we know of the IRA involvement, perhaps we should be looking at the possibility of alternative targets,” he suggested.
“British, you mean,” said Sheldon. Howard nodded. “Agreed, but I think we have to assume that the President is at risk, until we know the full extent of the IRA involvement,” he said.
“What about former Presidents?” asked Howard. “If Saddam went for Bush in ’93, maybe he’ll try again.”
“Bush’s people have been informed and he’ll be keeping out of the public eye for a while. The same goes for high-ranking military officers. But the President can’t do that. He can’t hide.”
Howard felt a sudden wave of apprehension. He sensed the assignment getting out of control; there were so many angles, so many things he had to do, and he was beginning to fear that the job was too much for him. He picked up the files and went back to his office. In the old days he would have reached for a bottle to kill the butterflies, but he hadn’t touched a drop for almost four years and had no intention of starting now. He sat down heavily at his desk, looked at his watch and pulled open his bottom drawer. In a slim black book he found mention of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting which was due to start in an hour’s time. When he’d first stopped drinking, he’d attended an AA meeting pretty much every day. The clinic which Theodore Clayton had sent him to made giving up easy, it was as secure as most Federal prisons and Howard had been under twenty-four hour a day supervision while he underwent detoxification. Later, while he was in group and individual therapy, there was so much to do that he didn’t have the time to miss drinking. The clinic, hidden away on an exclusive estate to the south of Phoenix, prohibited visitors or any contact with outsiders for the first month, and it forced him to address his alcohol problem and to accept that it was an illness, not a weakness.