“Any suspects at this point?” David asked, forcing himself to concentrate on gathering the facts rather than letting his mind run away with what-if scenarios.
Zalinsky said that Roger Allen, the Agency’s director, was privately speculating that the attack was most likely payback from al Qaeda after the killing of so many high-level figures in recent months. Dr. Ayman al-Zawahiri, for years the number two man in the al Qaeda organization, was Egyptian and had long vowed to topple the Ramzy regime and replace it with an Islamic Republic. However, Zalinsky noted, his immediate boss, Tom Murray, deputy director for operations, suspected the Muslim Brotherhood, the radical Islamic group founded in Egypt in 1928. The Brotherhood, which operated in the shadows because it was legally banned in Egypt, had hated Ramzy for years, in part because he kept imprisoning their top operatives and in part because he understood their true mission — the establishment of Egypt as the epicenter of a revived Islamic kingdom, the imposition of Sharia law, and the exporting of their Sunni brand of jihad throughout the region and eventually the world. Their motto: “Allah is our objective. The Prophet is our leader. Qur’an is our law. Jihad is our way. Dying in the way of Allah is our highest hope.” Al-Zawahiri, David knew, was not only Egyptian born but had been a member of the Brotherhood before he’d formed the even more radical group Egyptian Islamic Jihad, which had then merged with al Qaeda. “Murray thinks it’s possible that this was a joint operation between the Brotherhood and al Qaeda and could even have a Hezbollah angle, although you’d think we would have picked up on the plot if there was that much coordination between groups.”
“What do you think?” David asked.
“I don’t know,” Zalinsky replied. “It’s too early.”
“But you don’t think it’s actually al Qaeda or the Brotherhood, at least not by themselves, do you?” David pressed.
“We don’t have enough data yet.”
“Jack, come on; this is Iran. This is being directed by the Twelfth Imam. It’s got their fingerprints all over it. The timing? The targets? The weapons? The fact that the attack happened so soon after the assassination of Iran’s top nuclear scientist in Hamadan?”
“Why would Iran pick a fight with us now?” Zalinsky countered. “With Israel, sure. But why hit us, our city, our leader? Why take such a risk when doing so could push the White House into going to war with Iran? It doesn’t make sense. It’s not rational.”
“Based on whose perspective?” David asked. “Look, Jack, do you really believe the president is ever going to go to war with Iran? You hear what he’s telling the director behind the scenes. You know he doesn’t have the Pentagon developing a serious plan. You saw the advance text of the speech for the Sadat Center. He’s dreaming of peace. He still thinks he can negotiate with Iran. Now he thinks he might be able to talk with the Twelfth Imam. He barely mentioned Iran in the State of the Union address. He’s not signaling to the country that he’s about to get tough with Iran. Meanwhile, he’s cutting the defense budget in the name of deficit reduction. He’s pulling forces out of Iraq and Afghanistan. Nobody believes he’s going to launch a war with Iran, least of all the Iranians.”
“But don’t you think an assassination attempt by Iran could change the calculus, push a reluctant warrior onto a war footing after all?”
“Not if the hit worked,” David said. “Or even if it was close.”
“Look, David, the whole reason you’re in this thing is because the president gets it. He’s listening to the director. He’s listening to us. He signed the directive authorizing the use of ‘all means necessary’ to stop Iran’s weapons program. He’s giving us everything we asked for. Your job isn’t to make policy. Your job is executing it. Don’t forget that.”
The line was silent for a few moments.
“Now, you need to get back here tonight,” Zalinsky said.
“I can’t,” David replied.
“You have to.”
“Jack, my mom is dying.”
“I know, and I’m very sorry. You know how far back I go with your parents. But—”
“No, Jack, you don’t understand,” David interrupted. “My mom slipped into a coma less than an hour ago. The doctors say she hasn’t got much time left. They don’t think she’s going to make it through the week. And my dad’s a mess. I can’t leave them. Not now.”
“What about Azad?”
“He’s AWOL.”
“Then what about Saeed?”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Look, David, your president was nearly assassinated in the last hour, and the Middle East is about to explode.”
“I get it, Jack; I do. But I need more time.”
“There is no more time.”
“You said the president wanted to meet with us tomorrow at noon. Why can’t I fly down there tomorrow morning? I already have the ticket. That’s what my father’s expecting. Please, Jack. I need this favor.”
“I’m sorry, David. I understand your situation, but your country is under attack. The meeting with the president is off. Honestly, I can’t even tell you at the moment if the president is alive, much less capable of a briefing. But Director Allen is ordering all of the Near East Division to be here tonight — no exceptions. He’s pushing for us to go hard after al Qaeda, and we’ve got a team drafting new options on that front. But he’s also terrified that the Israelis are going to use this assassination attempt against Naphtali to order a first strike against Iran. He wants options. He said he wants to ‘take the gloves off.’”
David could see there was no point arguing any longer, but the pressure on him was excruciating. He was tempted to offer his resignation right then and there, but with his country under attack, that felt like a betrayal.
“Look, David,” Zalinsky continued when David didn’t respond, “you’ve been doing amazing work. You’ve given us a new set of targets in Iran. You’ve given us a bunch of new leads. But we don’t have much time. Eva and I have some ideas, but there are gaps only you can fill.”
Zalinsky paused for a moment, and David wondered how their colleague, Eva Fischer, was faring with her in-depth interrogations of Dr. Najjar Malik, the senior Iranian nuclear scientist whom David had helped smuggle out of Iran and into the United States along with his family. Malik was critical to the Agency’s ability to truly understand Tehran’s capabilities and intentions.
Zalinsky cleared his throat. “Believe me, if there was another way, any other way, I wouldn’t ask you to do this. But this is why I recruited you in the first place. I think your parents would understand.”
David wasn’t buying it. “You’re wrong, Jack. There’s nothing about this my father will understand. He’s watching the love of his life slip away from him forever. He won’t eat. He’s not taking his own medication. I’m worried he might harm himself. My brothers aren’t here. Besides, I can’t possibly get a flight to DC tonight. It’s Syracuse, not Munich.”
“There’s already an Agency plane en route,” Zalinsky said. “It will touch down in less than an hour. There’ll be a car waiting for you when you arrive. Come to my office the moment you get in. I’ve got to go. I’ve got the director calling on the other line.”
With that, the call went dead.
8
Thick, dark clouds were rolling in.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning strikes were getting closer. The winds were picking up, and David could feel the temperature dropping steadily. Another storm was approaching, and it wasn’t safe to stay on the roof. But David couldn’t bear the thought of going back inside and telling his father he was leaving.