Body of Lies (11 page)

"Not this time, but maybe another time," she said. "Tonight was special. I haven't been this way with anyone for a long while. I just want to be sure I'm ready."

"I really like you," said Ferris. He wanted to say "love" but he knew that would sound crazy. He had only known her a few weeks.

"I like you, too, Roger. I'm glad you came with me to the camp tonight. Now you know who I am. A little."

They moved into the shadow of her doorway, away from the light of the street. He kissed her on the lips and she responded, her lips parting slightly, and then wider. He took her in his arms and felt her body against his. As he kissed her, he could feel her moving, softening.

"I want you," she said. Her voice was low and suffused with desire.

"You can have me."

"Not yet." She stepped back so she could look at him. "You're strong, but I think you're soft, too, in this place." She patted his heart. "Are you? Do you have a soft heart?" He wasn't sure how to answer that, so he just nodded. She kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering on his skin, and then turned her back and walked up the stairs. He was standing there, looking up at her apartment, when he saw the light go on and a face in the window. He walked away in a kind of daze. It was partly the rush of emotion that he felt for her, but he was disoriented by what she had said. It had never occurred to him that he had a soft heart. He wondered if she was right.

8

AMMAN

E
D
H
OFFMAN ARRIVED IN
J
ORDAN
a few days later. He was the Big American--big hands; big chest; big, ruddy face with the short bristle of hair on top. He was wearing sunglasses, which gave him the look of a Las Vegas tycoon--the sort of man who peels off cash from a wad of hundred-dollar bills. He arrived on a white Gulfstream jet whose only marking was the tail number. Ferris met him at the military airport, but Hoffman told him to go back to the office. The division chief went to his hotel to get some sleep, then to his favorite kebab restaurant. He finally arrived at the embassy in the early evening and immediately summoned Ferris to the secure conference room. He was waiting at the table, massaging his temples, when Ferris entered the room.

"My head hurts," said Hoffman. "I should remember never to drink the red wine at that restaurant."

Ferris extended his hand. Hoffman embraced him in a bear hug. "How's the leg?" he asked.

"Pretty good. They have me doing exercises. I'm fine. I just feel bad for the guys left in Baghdad."

"Well, don't. They couldn't begin to develop the rapport you've got with Hani. This Berlin thing is a big deal. You handled it just right."

"Thanks, but I didn't do anything except watch. It's Hani's baby."

"Hats off to Hani. Definitely." Hoffman pulled a foil package of peanuts from his pocket and popped a handful into his mouth. "But now it's our turn. I want to run it."

"You've got a problem, then. Hani wants to keep control. He wouldn't even give me a transcript of the debriefing. He says it's his operation, and we can share the take. That's it."

"I know, I know." Hoffman ate more peanuts. "And that's fine, because we don't really have to run it. We just have to manipulate it a little. That's why I'm here."

"I don't follow you." That was the truth. Ferris had no idea what Hoffman was talking about.

"Play it. Influence it. Make use of it."

"Sorry. But if it means screwing Hani, I'm against it."

Hoffman smiled. "Touching sympathy for your liaison brother. But you'll see. We can steer your pal Hani by controlling the information he gets, so he sees what we want him to see. Simple! Actually, it's not simple, it's pretty goddamn complicated. But the idea is simple. Believe me, he'll thank us for it when it's over."

"But Hani owns the agent. He can target him however he wants. And we don't have diddly."

"There's where you're wrong, junior. We have more than you think. I'm going to tell you a secret. You probably know it anyway, but you're not supposed to. The fact is that since September 11 we have captured a whole lot more Al Qaeda members than you realize. We have done all sorts of unpleasant things to get them to talk, which everyone is indignant about, but fuck them. And by the way, thanks very much to your wife for helping write the cover-our-ass memo. She is still your wife, right?"

"Yes, I guess so. We're sort of separated. By the distance."

"Whatever. The point is that we have a lot of information. We know which of these little bastards hates the other. We know who's paying off whom, and who thinks he got a raw deal in the payments, who's screwing who else's 'temporary wife.' We know where the rivalries are, where to plant the seeds of doubt. We have invisible strings on these guys, because we know so much about them--and because they don't understand how much we know. See, they don't even know who's been captured. They don't know if Abdul-Rahman from Abu Dhabi has been captured, or quit, or taken a better offer, or just decided to jerk off full time. They keep getting e-mail messages from people they think maybe we've busted, but they don't
know.
That's the thing. Which allows us certain opportunities for
deception.
Oops. I said it. We have never been very good at that fancy-dan stuff, but you know what? We're getting better. And with the help of our Jordanian friends, we're going to get better still. And it's going to take us to you know who."

"Suleiman?"

"Amen, brother. This is your case. You have a leg full of shrapnel to prove it. Hani is chasing the same thing you are. We're just going to give him a little help."

Ferris was silent for a moment, thinking about what Hoffman had said. Beyond all the razzle-dazzle, he was proposing that they deceive Hani. That sounded like a bad idea.

"You're the boss," he said. "But if you're planning to play games with Hani, my advice is don't. We need our friends now. After Rotterdam, Milan, the next Milan. Jerking Hani's chain sounds like a mistake to me. In this part of the world, you have to trust people or you don't get anywhere."

"Wrong. In this part of the world, you can't trust anybody, because they're all liars. Even Brother Hani. Sorry, but that's a fact. I have been in the Camel Corps a hell of a lot longer than you have. And you're right. I am the boss."

Ferris shook his head with resignation. "He'll be pissed if he finds out. And I'll have to take the flak. Until he throws me out. The way he did my predecessor."

"Well, obviously he would be pissed, if he knew. But he's not going to find out. Because we won't tell him, will we? America is paying the freight here, so it seems to me we can do what we like. And please. You are not Francis Alderson."

Ferris had wanted to ask the question for several months and had never had a chance, until now. "Why did the Jordanians PNG Francis? Nobody has ever explained that to me. There's nothing in the files, and nobody back at NE Division will tell me anything. What did he do?"

"Um, um, um..." Hoffman closed his eyes and thought a moment. "I'm not going to tell you. For your own good."

"Why? What did he do? Screw somebody's wife?"

"Hell, no. Everybody in Jordan does that. I wish it were that simple."

"So what is it?"

"Ask Hani."

"He won't tell me."

Hoffman smiled as he pushed his chair away from the table and got up to leave. "That's a good sign."

"Oh yeah? Well, here's my nightmare version, based on zero information. I worry that Hani tossed Alderson so that I would run the station. I'm young and I don't have much experience. He thought he could manipulate me, so he trumped up something against Alderson. That's why he took me to Berlin. So he could get more leverage over me."

"You're paranoid, my boy. A useful quality on occasion, but in this case, it's a reach. Hani didn't have to trump up anything on Alderson. Believe me."

"So what did Francis do? Come on, I want to know. I need to know."

Hoffman scratched his head and thought a moment. "Okay. I'll tell you, but only to keep you from imagining things. Francis Alderson's fuckup was that he tried to recruit one of Hani's deputies. He had gotten friendly with the guy, invited him out to dinner. The guy seemed ready for a pitch, so Francis pitched him. Offered him some money. It's normal. We do it every day of the year, somewhere around the world. But Hani went batshit. He said it was a betrayal of our relationship. We tried like hell to cover it up. Francis said the money was for the guy's kid to get an operation in the States. But Hani knew that was crap. He had us cold. So he PNG'd Francis, to make a point."

"And the point was: Don't fuck with me."

"Precisely."

"And now we're fucking with him."

"Look, Roger, for chrissake, lighten up. I told you, you have to cut me some slack on this. And like I said, he'll thank us for it in the long run."

H
OFFMAN AND
F
ERRIS
went to see Hani the next morning. The Jordanian intelligence chief was at his most charming. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie to receive his distinguished visitor, but he loosened the tie and draped the jacket over the chair after they had talked a few minutes. He seemed to have a long history with Hoffman, to judge from the banter. Hoffman teased him about a woman he called Fifi, who seemed to have figured in one of their earlier joint operations. "A wonder of nature," Hoffman said, winking at Ferris, who had no idea what particular natural wonder he might be referring to.

When Hoffman offered Hani a cigar, the Jordanian brought out his humidor and insisted that the visitor share one of his. They lit up the stogies and both puffed away contentedly, sharing anecdotes about recent operations. But Ferris knew that the bonhomie was a delaying tactic on both sides, before they got down to the business that had brought Hoffman all the way from Washington. Hani didn't bring up the Berlin operation; he was too polite, perhaps. Or maybe he wanted to force the American to ask. Which Hoffman finally did.

"Maybe we should talk turkey," the division chief said. "I know you're a busy man, and the king is probably waiting for you."

"As you like. I know with Americans there is always this 'turkey.'" The tone of his voice implied that he had, indeed, won a small victory by forcing Hoffman to go first. "You want to talk about Berlin, of course. I assume that Mr. Ferris has given you the details."

"As far as they go. I must say, you did a hell of a job spotting and developing this guy. It's a nifty operation. Just nifty. But I'm frustrated."

"Why are you frustrated, Ed?" The Jordanian was solicitous, and impenetrable.

"I'm frustrated because I want more input. I want to help you target the Berlin boy, Mustafa Karami. I want to see if we can steer him into the center of the center--to the network that is doing these car bombs in Europe. This is life-or-death stuff for us, my friend. These guys want to kill Americans. That's why I'd like to ask you, as a special favor to the United States, to run this as a joint operation."

Hani paused a good five seconds. He didn't like to disappoint Hoffman. "I am sorry, Ed," he said eventually. "But this is impossible. As you know better than anyone, there is no such thing as a true joint operation. There is always one side that knows more, and one side that knows less. So let me run it. I know my business. Have I ever failed you in the past?"

"No. This is the first time. And I don't like it. We want to help you run it. We can bring a lot to this case. It happens that we know quite a lot about this guy Karami. NSA has had him on watch lists for a long time."

Hoffman took a red folder marked with a string of code words out of his briefcase and put it down on the table. "I want you to do this right. But the problem is, I don't want to share my goodies unless you share control."

Hani looked at the folder, and then at Hoffman. Ferris could see that he was struggling with himself. "I am sorry. I do not want to play any games with you, Ed. I could tell you we will run it jointly, to make you feel better, but it would not be the truth. We found him, we recruited him, and we will run him. You will share in everything that we learn. I am sorry. That is the only way we can do business."

Hoffman scowled. He looked at Ferris, as if deliberating whether to send him out of the room, and then turned back to his host. "I would hate to have the president call His Majesty and complain about this. We are allies. That is why the U.S. Congress is happy to authorize covert payments that account for most of the operating costs of your service. And other, shall we say, activities of the Jordanian government. I would hate to do that. But you are putting me in a pickle, Hani. You are making me eat the shit sandwich. And I don't like it."

"Don't threaten me, my friend," the Jordanian broke in. His voice, usually so decorous, had a sharper edge. "Don't ever threaten me, Ed, because it won't work. The king won't stand for it, and neither will I. We would rather have none of your money than let you think that for a few hundred million dollars you have bought us. I told that to your young man here, Mr. Ferris, and I assumed he would tell you."

"Roger advised me against making this request. He told me you would be pissed off, and he was right. But I still want some control."

Hani shook his head. "You can't have it. As I told Mr. Ferris, this operation is complicated. It takes time. If you try to force it to get the big payoff, you will get nothing. That is why you must be patient."

"I know it's complicated. I'm not an imbecile." Hoffman patted the manila folder before him. "I've read the intercepts." He smiled. "So should you."

Hani looked at the folder again. "I'd like to," he said. This was the real card America had in the intelligence game--not its money, certainly not its HUMINT, but its ability to overhear almost any conversation in the world. "How good are the intercepts?" the Jordanian asked.

"Very good. They show that this guy Karami has been in contact over the past six months with an AQ operations man in Indonesia by the name of Hussein Amary. We heard about him from the Singaporeans. Is he on your radar?"