“And mine,” Uzi said.
Following a knock, the door swung open and a stocky, dark-suited man entered. Vail envisioned a bulldozer — and his demeanor seemed to fit her mental image.
“Agent Prati,” Connerly said. “A little advance notice would’ve been appreciated.”
Prati froze in place and looked at the president. “I–I thought—”
“We pulled strings to get him here,” Uzi said, “and only got it arranged about an hour ago. We need to hear what he has to say.”
Nunn waved Prati to a seat near the other end of the briefing room. “You have five minutes, Agent.”
Prati set down his leather briefcase and removed a USB drive. “May I?” he asked, holding it up. “PowerPoint.”
“Go on,” Lynch said.
While he plugged the device into a port along the top of the briefing table, Vail said, “Agent Prati ran the Special Operations Division in Virginia for nine years, overseeing thirty agencies.”
“Brits, Australians, Mexicans, Canadians — we had ’em all.” Prati picked up a remote and aimed it at the screen. The word “narcoterrorism” appeared in bold red letters.
“I was asked to address two main issues.” Prati directed his remarks to the president. “First off, it’s important to give a frame of reference as to what we’re dealing with. Narcoterrorism is a problem that keeps escalating — yet the public has no clue. I used to think that was okay because the more the public knows the more the media would be in my face. But now I realize that was wrong. We need people to know because it’s ballooning out of control. And it impacts every family in every corner of this country.”
Nunn twisted the left corner of his mouth, something between a frown and a chuckle. “A bit over the top, no?”
“No,” Prati said flatly, holding the president’s gaze.
I like this guy. He’s got balls.
“The DEA chief of operations calls these narcoterrorists hybrids — one part terrorist organization and one part global drug trafficking cartel. He specifically called out groups like the Colombian FARC, the Taliban, Hamas and Hezbollah. Obviously, al Humat is now a member of that team too.” Prati glanced around the table. “These terror groups are turning to — and in some cases into—criminal enterprises to fund their operations.”
Prati pressed the remote and a new red and yellow slide appeared: two circles overlapped one another to form an orange center: a Venn diagram showing the intersection of terrorists and criminals. “I don’t have to tell you why this is a very, very bad thing. Annual drug trafficking income, worldwide, is over $400 billion. Think about that for a minute. That’s billion, not million.
“Used to be, terror groups were interested in one thing: furthering their political cause. They committed violent acts and murdered innocent people who didn’t believe as they did. No more.” He flipped to another slide showing a complex series of squares and arrows.
“But global terrorist organizations are large, sprawling enterprises nowadays and they need funding to operate. We’ve done a good job shutting down or limiting many of their traditional funding streams, so the terrorists are turning to criminal activity for money. Drug trafficking generates more cash than any other commodity, so it’s an ideal source of revenue for them.
“The drug trafficking money is brought in through Beirut and put into overseas bank accounts, then wired to the US — hundreds of millions of dollars a month — and that’s just the money we know about. God only knows what else is going on. But here’s the thing: no matter how much it is, that money’s dirty.”
“Obviously,” Vail said, “they launder it somehow.”
“Used cars.” Prati pressed a button and a red laser dot appeared over one of the boxes in his flow chart. “These groups have set up a vast network of hundreds of US car dealerships that buy millions of used cars and then ship them to west Africa, where they’re sold legitimately on the open market. But along the way, a cut of the profit goes to the major terror groups. It’s a multibillion-dollar business.”
“Makes sense,” DeSantos said. “Several thousand dollars per car, if not more. An easy way to move, and launder, a lot of money very quickly. And no one suspects a thing.”
“I was briefed on synthetic drugs last month,” Tasset said. “Manufactured in China.”
Prati leaned back in his seat. “Yes. They’re sold here in grocery stores and minimarts. The proceeds, hundreds of millions of dollars, are then sent to Yemen, where they’re distributed to the terror groups. But it doesn’t have to be drugs. Money is sent through the legit banking system to China to pay for cigarettes, clothing, shoes, sneakers, toys, computers — all sorts of stuff. The Chinese manufacture these things and ship ’em to South or Central America to get laundered: they’re sold through legal businesses to generate clean cash. The money then gets sent to the drug traffickers overseas. Like I said, nothing generates cash as well as illicit drugs.”
“You called the terrorist organizations sprawling enterprises,” Vail said. “Why do they need so much money? I mean, how much does it cost to build some homemade bombs?”
“It’s not just the attack, which, you’re right. Doesn’t cost a hell of a lot. Take 9/11, their most ambitious operation. It cost a little over half a million. But these terror groups are no longer loose associations of people running around the deserts of the Middle East wreaking havoc and setting off car bombs. They’re organizations that fly their operatives from country to country. They run training camps, pay salaries, purchase weapons and ammo, buy buildings, build infrastructure, make fake passports, rent safe houses, pay bribes to key people in government. After 9/11, the CIA estimated that al Qaeda spent $30 million a year just to run their organization. That was a long time ago, so the cost has gone up.” He looked at Tasset and got a nod of acknowledgment.
“Terrorism is an expensive business,” Knox said, “generating the kind of profits US corporations would envy.”
I wonder if the Service Employees Union has cracked al Qaeda.
“So let me get to those two questions you had,” Prati said with a glance at Uzi. “Does Hezbollah have sleeper cells in the US?” He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “This has been talked about for years. Back in 2008 when their military leader, Imad Mughniyah, was assassinated in Syria, Hezbollah threatened the west. The FBI—”
“Went nuts trying to track down and keep tabs on sleepers here in the US in case they decided to retaliate,” Knox said.
“Thing is, we didn’t find a whole lot and they never attacked us.”
“They never attacked us,” Uzi said, “because they raise too much money from supporters in the US.”
Prati shrugged. “Maybe. Bottom line is that we never found actual cells here. But here’s where it gets muddy. Remember we talked about the car dealerships? Hundreds of other related businesses and groups have been set up across the US to assist in, and establish, this trade-based money laundering scheme to sell used cars and ship them over to west Africa. But it’s all being funded by this criminal money coming in from Lebanon. Anything goes bad — we bomb Iran to take out their reactors, whatever — then they’ve got these ‘operatives’ living in the US. American citizens who can take action on their behalf. Are they sleeper cells?”
“It’s a matter of semantics,” Fahad said. “Whatever you call it, it is what it is.”
“That’s my point. Has it happened? Not yet. Do we have evidence of an organized sleeper network? Not to my knowledge. But is there one? I’ll let you answer that.”