“He cannot be trusted! He has strayed into uncharted waters. The question arises, now that we have provided him with his avenue to power, will he honor his agreements with us?”
Solkov was stymied. He did not know how to answer Drachev’s assertions and he did not understand why the former colonel general seemed to be holding him responsible. Finally he said, “I know of no reason why Fahid would not hold to his contract with us.” After he said it he realized his voice had conveyed little in the way of conviction.
The tone of Drachev’s voice when he finally spoke again had lost some of its rancor.
“We have decided that you will remain in Moscow until events in Ammash have played out. Comrade Solkov.
Success has its rewards and failure is also appropriately rewarded. It was you who first advanced the idea of a liaison with Colonel Fahid in his bid to gain control of the Northern Iraqi Military Forces. The Party has invested heavily in your scheme, not only in resources, but time as well — and you have continually assured us of its eventual success. If it fails, Comrade Solkov, you will be held accountable. And you will not like the consequences.”
Joy Carpenter waited outside the White House press room talking to colleagues. She had requested and received the necessary credentials to attend the mid-morning briefing by Colchin’s press secretary, Donald Freeman. Freeman was an old friend, and Joy had every intention of collaring him after the briefing, reminding him that she and Bogner had once been married, and promising him that nothing he revealed would go any farther.
When she saw Freeman cross the corridor leading from the West Wing into the back room behind the briefing room, she broke off her conversation and found a chair in the rear of the room.
Donald Freeman was a tall, angular man with snow-white hair and a keenly honed Mississippi drawl. Unlike many of his predecessors, he enjoyed the give-and-take of the sessions as well as a healthy, no-holds-barred reputation. It was general knowledge around town that the Washington press corp had ordained him the most cooperative press secretary in the last twenty years.
Joy watched her longtime friend walk to the podium, straighten his papers, and survey the crowd before he began.
“I’ll try to be brief and I’ve allowed some time for questions and answers at the end of the briefing. Okay?
“Three days ago we learned that General Salih Baddour, the leader of the rebel Northern Iraqi Military Force in Iraq, had been assassinated. The alleged assassin is said to be a man by the name of Tobias Carrington Bogner, a longtime agent with the United States Internal Security Bureau.
Subsequent to that announcement we have learned through Jordanian sources that the alleged assassin managed to escape, and a spokesman for NIMF indicated that Colonel Ishad Fahid had given orders to have the alleged assassin shot on sight.
“Agent Bogner was sent to Ammash, Iraq, at the discretion of the United States government to verify rumors and inspect, if possible, evidence of the repeated use by NIMF forces of biological and chemical weapons against Kurd tribes in northern “Contact with Agent Bogner was last established five days ago and he has not been heard from since. The only thing close to verification we have that Agent Bogner ever actually arrived in Ammash was obtained two days ago when poor-quality videotapes showing a man reputed to be Agent Bogner and identified as General Baddour’s assassin were supplied and subsequently broadcast over both Jordanian and Syrian television.
“Since the United States has no formal diplomatic relations with the government in Baghdad and there is no chain of communication between Baghdad and Ammash, it has been difficult to verify these reports. We have asked diplomatic sources in both Jordan and Turkey to intercede on our behalf and determine the validity of these charges. To date, the governments in both Jordan and Turkey have been unsuccessful in obtaining further information.
“The President is currently reviewing other avenues of possible intervention into the matter and wants me to assure you that we are doing everything within our power to resolve this matter-and if the allegations are true, insure that Agent Bogner receives appropriate legal support.”
Freeman stopped, restacked his papers, and looked over the gathering of reporters as hands flew into the air. A reporter in the front of the room asked, “Is there any truth to the rumor that the real purpose of the attempt to get Agent Bogner inside Ammash was to disrupt or somehow deter further development of chemical and biological weapons by NIMF?”
“Agent Bogner was sent to Ammash to evaluate the situation and weigh our alternatives,” Freeman answered.
Joy listened while the barrage of questions continued, each amounting to little more than a slight variation on previous questions. Joy commented to a colleague that Freeman was good at his job, pointing out that after twenty minutes of intense questioning, the reporters had been able to glean little more in the way of information than they’d had when he finished his prepared statement.
When Freeman left the podium. Joy worked her way into the corridor to try to intercept him before he returned to his office in the West Wing. A Secret Service man stopped her, and only by chance did Freeman see her waving frantically to get his attention. When he approached he was all smiles.
“I saw you in the back of the room,” he admitted, “and I was more than surprised when you didn’t have one of those typical Joy Carpenter penetrating questions for me.”
Joy ignored the compliment.
“You know about Tobias and me, don’t you?”
“I know that you two used to be married.”
“I’m worried,” Joy admitted.
“You have every right to be. The President is concerned as well.”
“Look, Donald, I give you my word that anything you tell me doesn’t go any farther,” Joy pleaded.
“How bleak is it?”
Freeman checked to see if there was anyone close enough to overhear their conversation.
“All I can tell you, Joy, is that the President has a plan.
I’m not privy to the details. He’s holding the cards on this one close to his chest. I can tell you, though, that we’re examining every conventional option and a few that even if they don’t work, we’ll still be able to say we did everything in our power to get T. C. out of there.”
“I was hoping for more,” Joy admitted. She forced a small smile to show Freeman she wasn’t serious.
“You know, something like the President was sending in a battalion of Marines to get Tobias out of there.”
“Sorry, Joy, I’ve told you all I can tell you. Except to say there is a helluva lot going on that I’m not at liberty to discuss.”
Salih Baddour, Bogner learned, had long been paranoid about the possibility of an aerial attack by the government forces in Baghdad. As a result, he had built his Ammash complex accordingly; even the living quarters for the engineers, technicians, and scientists he had recruited to work on Rashid’s GG-2 project were constructed over well-fortified bomb shelters.
The shelters consisted of two rooms, walls of eighteen-inch-thick concrete, the necessary food stores, electrical appliances, and an assortment of other creature comforts.
With Matba doing most of the heavy work, his mechanic companion, who had been bound and gagged and riding around in the back of the GAZ during their night-long odyssey, was unceremoniously dumped into the shelter under Rashid’s quarters. He was left there, still taped and still gagged to wait out the rest of Bogner’s plan. Bogner’s threat to shoot Zilka Rashid’s wife first and him second if the doctor failed to cooperate had worked. After an initial display of mulishness Rashid had decided it was best to cooperate. Thus far he had followed instructions and continued to encourage his wife to do the same. Talia Rashid, on the other hand, turned out to be Bogner’s real bonus. Educated in the United States, with degrees from two American universities, she appeared to know almost as much about her husband’s work at Rashid did. She spoke fluent English, and Bogner learned she had assisted her husband in every phase of the development of the cyanide-based weapons Baddour had been testing on the unfortunate Kurds. Not only did she speak English better than her husband, there was one more bonus. She was as concerned about her husband’s welfare as he was hers.