Sword of God(90)
Unfortunately, they realized a vacation would have to wait.
Harrington sat behind a large desk, staring at his computer screen, anxiously jotting notes on a legal pad. Every time he opened a new file, he flipped a page and started again. His concentration was so intense he didn’t notice Payne standing in the doorway.
“Colonel, you wanted to see us?”
Harrington glanced up. “Gentlemen, please have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
Payne walked in first, followed by Jones. Both moved slower than normal, still feeling the effects of the previous day—one that had spanned several time zones and resulted in multiple bruises. Adrenaline had carried them through their mission, but now that they were back on base, the only thing that kept them going was their thirst for answers. And a lot of coffee.
“First of all,” Harrington said as he finished writing, “let me thank you again. I know we talked briefly when you arrived last night, yet somehow I feel the need to repeat myself. Thanks to you, a major crisis was averted, and I just wanted to express my appreciation.”
Payne and Jones said nothing, realizing that Harrington wasn’t finished.
“That being said, there are still a number of loose ends that need to be dealt with, some of them more puzzling than others.” He turned the pages of his notebook and focused on the first item. A single name was written: Shari Shasmeen. “What can you tell me about the girl?”
“Not much,” Payne admitted. “We found her tied up and beaten pretty badly in a back room. She was in charge of some archaeological dig and gave us a tour of the maintenance tunnel before our assault. Other than that, we didn’t have much time to chat.”
“Yet you brought her back with you?”
Payne nodded. “After the blast, we slipped past the Saudi guards by going out the same tunnel. When we got back to the entrance, she was still standing there, unable to leave without a chaperone because of all the mutaween running around.”
Jones added, “We figured she needed a way out, and we needed more information about Abdul-Khaliq. It seemed like a match made in heaven.”
“On the trip home, did she tell you anything about the envelope?”
“Not really,” Payne said. “She slept the whole way back. Why? What was inside?”
“Two things,” Harrington answered, glancing at his notepad. “One of them is confusing, the other we’re still trying to decipher. While you two were getting your beauty rest, my team spent the night trying to connect the dots. In fact, that’s what I was working on when you walked in.”
“Go on.”
Harrington grabbed a manila folder that sat on the corner of his desk. Inside, there was a single document. He took it out and handed it to Payne. “Don’t worry. It’s not the original. We sent that out for testing.”
The sheet was folded in two. It was written in English and had a simple logo on the front, a similar design on the back. Payne opened it and scanned the listings. He saw everything from nachos to hamburgers to chicken fingers. “What the hell is this?”
“It’s a take-out menu from the restaurant at Al-Gaim. We found it inside the envelope.”
“Someone sent her a menu? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Like I said, it’s confusing.”
Payne handed it to Jones, who stared at the menu with great interest. He studied everything, paying particular attention to the interior text.
“Do you see something?” Payne asked.
Jones nodded, smiling. “The club sandwich looks good.”
Payne ignored the comment, knowing that he would continue.
“Actually,” Jones said, “the menu doesn’t bother me. It’s what it represents that bothers me.”
“Meaning?”
“Whoever sent the envelope knew about Schmidt long before we did.”
“How so?” Harrington demanded.
“Two years ago, when Schmidt’s unit was killed at the hospital, where were you housing their families?”
“Al-Gaim.”
“And when Schmidt attacked the towers, what was his access point?”
“The tunnel,” Payne answered.
“Obviously that’s not a coincidence. Whoever sent the package knew about Schmidt, knew about his motivation, and knew where he was going to attack several days in advance. Of course, that triggers a floodgate of questions that I’d rather not think about until I know what else was inside the package. That might put things in a proper context.”
Nodding in agreement, Harrington grabbed another manila folder. This time he handed it to Jones. “We found this taped inside the menu.”
Jones opened the folder and stared at the image. It was a picture of an SD card, a computer storage device that was slightly bigger than a postage stamp yet capable of holding gigabytes of information. Some held more data than a DVD. “What’s on it?”