Sword of God(69)
“Including Salaam?”
“At first, mat’s what we thought,” he said cryptically. “Remember, we had no idea what Salaam looked like. We had a rough description—age, nationality, and so on—but we couldn’t identify him on site. All we knew is that he was meeting with his top advisers in Kuwait, and we snagged everyone in the room. So we assumed we had him.”
“And?”
“After we hauled the bodies out of the cave, we ran preliminary tests—ballistics, DNA, et cetera—and came to a disheartening conclusion: the dead guy wasn’t Hakeem Salaam.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we got a positive ID. And let me tell you, we fucked up bad on this one. Not only wasn’t the guy a terrorist, he was a Saudi official who worked for the Ministry of the Interior.”
Payne winced, realizing that Schmidt would have known whom they grabbed very early in the interrogation process—if he didn’t know from the very beginning. That meant he spent several days torturing a government official, learning inside information about a multitude of topics. In Saudi Arabia, the Ministry of the Interior was responsible for public safety on many different levels, including the police, fire services, passports, and civil defense. In addition, it handled security for all major sites, such as Muhammad’s tomb in Medina and, more importantly, the Great Mosque in Mecca.
“Obviously,” Harrington admitted, “there’s no way of knowing what Schmidt learned. But according to Dr. Sheldon, we have a pretty good idea of how he’s going to use it.”
39
Dr. Ernie Sheldon appeared on the video screen in the Taif conference room, the same screen that had illustrated the days of the hajj. He was somewhere in a secure facility, no longer hiding behind the mask he wore in the cave. Both literally and figuratively. Harrington had finally given him permission to talk about his work.
“During the past several years,” Sheldon said, “we’ve been conducting human-based experiments in compounds around the world. Ways to extract information and methods to prevent the same. Some people think our biggest concern is how to get secrets from the enemy. Sometimes it’s more important to protect your own.”
He smiled, crinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes.
“For the sake of clarity, I’ll keep the science to a bare minimum. No need to confuse you with a bunch of complex formulas when all you need are the basics. Thirty years ago the Chinese developed a procedure where they isolated a specific emotion in a test subject and elevated it through chemicals and verbal reinforcement.”
Payne spoke into the camera. “You mean brainwashing.”
“Not actual brainwashing. They weren’t able to take a peasant girl and turn her into a crazed assassin. However, l hey were able to take most subjects with a predisposed opinion—let’s say a hatred of peas—and raise that hatred lo an unhealthy level. If, for instance, the subject ever saw a pea again, she’d be willing to kill someone to get it away from her.”
Jones whispered, “I feel the same way about broccoli.”
“From humble beginnings comes cutting-edge science,” Sheldon pronounced. “During the past three decades, the scientific community has built upon these experiments, step by step, finally reaching a point where we can corral I hat undisciplined rage and focus it on a precise task. Different countries have different names for it, but we like to call it induction.”
“Induction?” Payne asked. “Can you give us an example? One that doesn’t involve peas.”
Sheldon smiled again. “Of course I can. In fact, why don’t we talk specifics? Let’s discuss the reason we’re all here.”
Payne glanced at Jones, neither of them liking where this was going.
“If ever there was a candidate for induction, it was Trevor Schmidt. He was filled with so much anger and guilt from the terrorist attack that killed his squad, not to mention his missed opportunity to stop it.”
Payne turned toward Harrington. “What opportunity?”
Harrington answered, “The day of the bombing, Schmidt had gathered his squad’s families and driven them to the hospital himself. On their way inside they passed a number of Muslims who were praying. This is Saudi Arabia, after all, so that was pretty damn common. What wasn’t common was the time of day. This wasn’t one of their normal prayer sessions. These men were praying on their own, asking for courage to complete their mission.”
Jones understood. “He walked right past the bombers.”
“Exactly,” Harrington said. “Ninety-nine point nine percent of the population would’ve missed the significance of the prayer, but Schmidt blamed himself for not being in the point one percent. He felt it was his job to spot things like that. His duty.”