“I was wondering the same thing.” He paused for a moment, trying to figure out the significance, before he returned his attention to Shari. “What happened next?”
“He gave me the envelope and left.”
“No conversations. No clues about who he was or where he was going.”
She shook her head. “We found him about an hour later. Someone had slit his throat and dumped his body by the exit. There was blood everywhere. After that, I did the only thing I could. I called Omar and told him what had happened.”
Payne nodded. “How did he react?”
“He was calm. No hint of panic. He said he’d take care of it. Less than an hour later, a team of guards showed up and removed the body.”
“Were they Americans?” Jones asked.
“No,” she said. “They were Arabs.”
She gave them a basic description of the guards and explained how Omar ordered her to leave the tunnel until the hajj was over. He said the Arabs would protect the site while she explored the city or stayed in the safety of her hotel room, which was a few miles away.
“Yet we found you in the tunnel,” Payne commented.
“What can I say? I’m stubborn. I stopped by to get some work done late Sunday night, and the place was empty. No guards in sight. They didn’t show up until Monday morning. And when they arrived, they were carrying tools.”
“And that’s when they attacked you?”
She nodded. “After that, everything’s fuzzy.”
Harrington watched the interview from an adjacent room. Much like Payne, he believed everything that Shari said. Her answers were straightforward. She never stammered or avoided a topic. She constantly looked her questioners in the eyes.
In some ways, he was disappointed. Things would have been much simpler if she had partnered with Abdul-Khaliq. In that case he could have put the screws to her, getting as much information as possible before he sent her to military intelligence, who would have treated her even worse. Before they were done, she would have confessed to everything, including Abraham Lincoln’s assassination.
Unfortunately, as things currently stood, it was his ass on the line. Not hers.
From the moment he notified the Pentagon about a possible attack, he knew his career was going to be put under a microscope. Committees were currently forming, all of them designed to look into his recent operations— including the black ops run by Trevor Schmidt. All things considered, Payne and Jones had done a remarkable job cleaning up his mess in Mecca. However, they didn’t have the time or the resources to be perfect. By now, the Saudis were sorting through all the evidence at the towers and had recovered the bodies, which meant they were one step closer to figuring out their true identities: non-Muslim American soldiers.
No matter how Harrington tried to spin it, he knew that he was screwed. American troops plus explosives plus the Great Mosque meant an international crisis. Not nearly as bad as if the attack had succeeded, but bad enough that he would be relieved of his duties.
At this point, the only thing that could save him was a miracle.
Or help from an unexpected source.
After the interview with Shari, Payne and Jones were summoned to the conference room, where Harrington was waiting for them. A day before, photos of the Great Mosque filled the large video screen while an expert lectured on the events of the hajj. Today there was a single image—a freeze-frame of a Middle Eastern man sitting in a dilapidated warehouse.
“Gentlemen,” Harrington said, “Christmas just came early.”
“Crap!” Jones joked as he took a seat. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“Actually, you did. You got me the best gift in the world. You brought me the disk.”
“The disk?” Payne asked.
“The SD card from the take-out menu. My tech boys finally cracked the encryption. It took all night, but it was worth their effort. That thing was filled with all kinds of information. Building designs for the towers. Escape routes from Mecca. American contacts in Riyadh and Taif. The type of intel that would’ve been hard to explain if the Saudis had recovered it.”
Payne rubbed his eyes. “I don’t get it. Why would someone send that to the tunnel?”
Harrington grinned. “If you’d like, I can sit here and explain it to you. Or if you’d prefer, you can hear it straight from the Arab’s mouth.”
“Which Arab is that?”
He pointed toward the screen. “Earlier today, I mentioned there was a large video file on the SD card that we were trying to crack. Turns out it was a video message. One I think you’ll enjoy.”
Harrington hit play, and the video sprang to life.