"How old is he?"
"That's another thing," Steph said. "Rao is sixty-one. He's facing involuntary retirement next year."
"So if he doesn't act now, he'll lose access to the resources he's using to stir up trouble."
"That's right."
"Steph, you just painted a picture of a dangerous man."
"We already knew he was dangerous," Steph said.
"Yes, but he sounds like he's more than just paranoid and violent. He could be delusional. What kind of person sends soldiers with loaded weapons against a peaceful crowd?"
"You're saying he's a psycho?"
"I think he may be," Elizabeth said.
Steph said nothing.
"The president is going to love this," Elizabeth said.
"When are you going to tell him?"
"Today. We need to take this man off the board before he does any more damage."
CHAPTER 44
On the ride over to the White House Elizabeth thought about what she was going to tell Rice about Ashok Rao. She was convinced it was Rao and not Pakistan that had planned the attacks against India and the U.S. in Manila. There was enough evidence for her. Would it be enough to convince Rice to take action?
She watched Washington's cityscape pass by. She passed the Smithsonian. Large signs proclaimed an exhibition about ancient navies and warships. It made her think of her father and something he'd said to her. She'd been around twelve years old.
Judge Harker liked to build ships in a bottle. It could take him a year or more to complete a single ship. When the model was ready, the masts and broad yards were folded down and in, so that the hull could be slipped through an opening just wide enough to accept it.
Elizabeth had been watching him get ready to install his latest creation, a miniature version of Admiral Nelson's flagship, the 104 gun HMS Victory. It was a masterpiece, the jewel of his collection. The canvas sails were white and crisp, the paint work bright, the black cannons run out and ready for action. A tiny figure of Nelson in his blue and gold uniform stood on the quarterdeck.
"Daddy, don't you ever get worried that you'll break it when you put it in the bottle?"
"In the beginning, I did, when I first started building them."
"But not now?"
He smiled. "No, pumpkin."
"Why don't you worry?"
"Because I trust that I know what I'm doing."
"My teacher was talking about certainty in class today. Is trusting yourself the same as having certainty?" Elizabeth asked.
Her father had laid his tools down and looked at her.
"That's a very good question. I'd say that they're almost the same but not quite. Sometimes you have to act as if you're certain about something because you trust your judgment and knowledge."
"Even when you're not certain?" Elizabeth had said.
"Even when you're not."
She had to trust her judgment, even though she couldn't be one hundred percent certain she was right. If Pakistan had planned and executed the attack on the American Embassy, they had become an active enemy. If that was the case, any strategy Rice formed to deal with the crisis on the subcontinent had to take that into account. The intelligence she was bringing to him challenged the assumption of Pakistan's guilt. It could change the entire U.S. position regarding Pakistan and India.
An aide escorted Elizabeth into the Oval Office. President Rice sat behind his desk. With him in the room was Clarence Hood, Director of the CIA. Both men rose when Elizabeth entered the room.
"Director. Thank you for being so prompt. Please, take a seat."
That was Rice's way, to thank people for doing what was expected of them. As if she would ever be late for an appointment with him.
"Thank you, Mister President. Hello, Clarence."
"Elizabeth."
Rice sat and Hood followed. Elizabeth chose a peach-colored upholstered chair in front of the president's desk.
Clarence Hood was tall and almost thin. He looked tired, his skin color a little too close a match for his light gray suit. His eyes were rimmed with red, the product of stress and late hours. Elizabeth liked him. In the shadow world they both worked in, he had earned her respect.
Rice looked even more worn out than Hood, almost exhausted. Without the makeup that made him appear robust for the cameras, his face was pale and lined, unhealthy looking. The strain he was under was evident.
"You said you had disturbing information concerning India and Pakistan," Rice said. "I thought it might be a good idea if Clarence sat in on this meeting."
"Yes, sir," Elizabeth began. She plunged in.
"Sir, I believe that the embassy attacks in Manila were a false flag operation conceived and executed by a rogue official high up in India's intelligence agency. I am also convinced that the same individual instigated the riot in Srinagar at the mosque. All of these acts were carefully planned as provocations to push India and Pakistan into war."
The effect of her words was shock. She might as well have thrown a dead fish onto the president's desk.
Rice sat up straighter in his chair. "You have proof of this, Director?"
"Yes, sir, or I would not be sitting here."
"Go on."
Elizabeth proceeded to brief the two men on what she had learned. When she was done, Rice looked at the DCI.
"Did you have any indication of this, Clarence?"
"No, sir. But what Director Harker has said ties together some loose ends. The assault on the Indian embassy has never made sense as an operation by ISOK. It's too far from their home base. It makes a lot of sense if it was a false flag op designed to move Indian public opinion and political will toward war with Pakistan. I admit it never occurred to me that anyone except Abu Sayyaf was behind the attack on our own embassy. They certainly had enough reasons."
"I believe they were planning the attack," Elizabeth said. "I think that Cobra used it as an opportunity to point the finger at Islamabad."
"Cobra?" Rice said.
"Sorry, sir. My codename for Ashok Rao."
"This is a real mess, Director."
"Yes, Mister President."
"Clarence, what kind of a relationship does Langley have with India's intelligence agency?"
"It's mixed, Mister President. To be blunt, we haven't always told the Indians everything we knew about what was going on in Pakistan. We needed access for our supply route into Afghanistan. Self interest dictated how much we decided to tell New Delhi about what Islamabad was up to."
"You mean they don't trust us," Rice said.
"Yes, sir. That about sums it up."
"They're not going to be happy if we tell them that their Secretary of Special Operations is a traitor."
"No, sir, I don't imagine they will."
Rice turned his attention to Elizabeth. His blue eyes bored into her.
"Director, how certain are you about this?"
"The phone calls are damning, Mister President. I'm as certain as I can be. This man is to a great degree responsible for what's happening over there."
"What action would you recommend?"
"He has to be neutralized before he does any more damage," Elizabeth said. "We should let Gupta know what we've found out."
"Gupta?" Rice said.
"The Secretary of the Research and Intelligence Wing, Mister President." Hood said. "I've met him. He won't believe us, not without hard evidence."
"I have the recordings of Rao's phone conversations," Elizabeth said.
Hood seemed doubtful. "It might be enough. On the other hand, our past history with the Indians regarding Pakistan doesn't lend us a lot of credibility. As you pointed out, phone conversations can be false."