"The Shop?"
"Very likely. That terrorist watch list he was on, when it was tardily discovered by U.S. Immigration, identified Horowitz as a mule for the Shop."
Lambert slapped the table. "Okay, so we've definitely established he's a bad guy. How the hell do we find him?"
Carly spoke up. "The Mossad has been very cooperative. They found his apartment in East Jerusalem and ransacked it. The boy left the place as if he was planning to return. All of his clothes and belongings were there--including a computer."
Lambert raised his eyebrows, and Carly wiggled hers in reply.
"And we might have something," she said. "This is a printout showing the contents of the hard drive. Although there isn't anything that directly connects him to the Shop, we've retrieved some recent e-mails that indicate he was planning something before Sarah Burns came to Israel. Most of the mail prior to two weeks ago was deleted, but the Mossad is delivering a subpoena to Horowitz's ISP as soon as they can. What we do have are some of the last communications between him and Sarah, much of which we already uncovered on Sarah's computer in Illinois, but also some e-mails between Horowitz and someone named Yuri. We've traced this Yuri's e-mail address, and the server is at the Russian-Israeli Bank in Jerusalem."
"The Russian-Israeli Bank? Is that legit?" Lambert asked.
"It is. It's a private and fairly young institution. The bank opened two years ago, and the board of directors consists of nothing but Russians."
"Interesting."
Then Carly smiled, pausing for dramatic effect. "And here's the clincher. The bank is a subsidiary of the Swiss-Russian International Mercantile Bank."
Lambert raised his fists above his head. "Praise the Lord! We need the Israel Security Forces to get in there and tear the place apart. Now."
Bruford replied, "It's already in the works. The bank manager and its employees are going to have a rude surprise when they arrive at work in the morning--which should be happening any minute over there."
"Great work, people," Lambert said. "Now if we'd just hear something from Fisher, my ulcer might settle down."
Chip Driggers spoke up. "Colonel, there's a transmission coming through!"
Lambert rose and went over to Driggers's terminal. "Is it Sam?"
"Looks like it. He's sending some JPG files."
When the image appeared on the monitor, both men's jaws dropped.
"Holy shit, what the hell is that thing?" Driggers asked.
Lambert rubbed his eyes and looked again. "It's a goddamned Babylon supergun. We should have known. We should have known!"
"There are more pics coming through. Look."
The entire team gathered around the monitor, watching in awe as Fisher's captures of the Babylon Phoenix came into view. Lambert didn't waste any time running back to his office. He picked up the phone on Bruford's desk and ordered, "Get me the president."
37
NASIRTarighian wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at his watch. The sun had completely risen, and he felt that time was running out. If the American had contacted his people during the night, it was only a matter of hours--maybe minutes--before the forces arrived to stop his plan to punish Iraq.
His advisers had been telling him for months that the plan was folly. Albert Mertens and his team were against targeting Baghdad, and his committee heads strongly protested the choosing of Iraq. Tarighian knew fully well that he might be sacrificing the Shadows as an entity to satisfy his lust for revenge. He didn't care. His most trusted colleague, Ahmed Mohammed, had said that this was a plan of "madness." But Tarighian knew he wasn't mad, at least not in the "crazy" sense. He was simply intent on allowing his wife and children to rest peacefully. If it meant that he had to die a martyr, then so be it. Many others had done the same.
He looked out the control room window and up at the magnificent creature that was his to command. The Babylon Phoenix was primed and ready, calibrated to fire the MOAB at Baghdad. He was awaiting last-minute preparations that Mertens assured him would take no longer than a half hour. That was forty minutes ago.
"Mertens!" he called across the room. "What the hell is going on?"
Mertens exchanged glances with Eisler, and Tarighian didn't like it. He had seen too many furtive looks between those two.
"Yes, sir?" Mertens asked calmly.
"Are we ready yet?"
"Not quite. There seems to be a problem in the engine room. I would like you to come with me to check it out. I want you to see with your own eyes the problems we are having. This rushing to fire the weapon on such short notice is having a domino effect."
"What kind of problem is it?"
"I'm not sure. The engineers want us down there in person. I suggest that you come with me."
"Damn," Tarighian muttered. "All right, lead the way." Farid started for the door and Tarighian said, "Yes, Farid, you come with us." The mute strongman grunted and held the door open. Once again Mertens and Eisler exchanged looks, and both men rose to head out of the control room. They followed Tarighian and Farid down the short flight of steps and walked across the platform to the bloated hydraulics base that was supporting the Babylon Phoenix on ground level. Several of Tarighian's more loyal armed soldiers stood nearby. They watched as Mertens opened the heavy iron door that led to the bowels of the mechanism, which were enclosed deep within.
Mertens gestured inside. "After you, sir."
Tarighian ducked his head and clambered down the steel steps into the engine room. Although illuminated by work lights, the place was darker than other areas of the compound. The monstrous engines that manipulated the hydraulics dominated the room, which pounded noisily with life. Several men were busy at control panels while two worked feverishly on one of the hydraulics.
Once the four men had entered the room and shut the door, another man wearing a jeballaand turban turned from the control panel and faced Tarighian.
"Ahmed!" Tarighian said. "What are you doing here?"
Ahmed Mohammed gave Tarighian a slight bow. "I have been in the complex since last night. You were too busy to notice."
"Why, I'm sorry. You should have--"
"I was concerned about your plans, Nasir. That's why I am here."
Tarighian put an arm around his Political Committee head and said, "I am happy that you are. You are just in time! This morning we shall fire the Babylon Phoenix and finally show the West that Islam will not let America and its allies control Iraq or the Middle East. In a few minutes there will no longer be a Baghdad. What do you think of that, Ahmed?"
Mohammed shook his head. "Nasir, my friend, I must tell you that we all feel you have strayed too far from the path. This insane notion you have of destroying Baghdad is nonsense. Baghdad is a Muslim city. Iraq is a Muslim country. You are blinded by your thirst for revenge. Your goals are misplaced and inappropriate. The decision has been made to relieve you of your leadership."
Tarighian blinked. He wasn't sure he had heard the man correctly. "What did you say? I don't think you understand, Ahmed. We are ready to fire the gun now. We will soon be the masters of the Middle East, and we will kick out the Western dogs."