Resurrection Day (44 page)

Mohamed Rashid turned the grey Plymouth across the George Mason Bridge, headed towards Arlington. The briefcase was on the floor behind his feet. At the exit for Arlington he turned the car off the highway and headed towards an apartment block a five-minute drive away. He had made a call from a public telephone on the way, and when he pulled up outside the block he saw the figure of a man waiting at the corner, his face in shadows. Rashid flashed the lights and the man walked towards him. He was in his twenties, slim as a reed, a young Saudi recruit he had trained personally. Without a word, the man slipped into the front seat, pulled the door shut.

'Is everything prepared, Tamir?' asked Rashid.

'Yes.'

'Where's the delivery truck?'

'Parked around the back.'

Twenty-five minutes later, Rashid drove the Plymouth through the near-deserted streets of Washington until he reached F Street, three blocks from FBI Headquarters. He pulled in midway along the avenue, directly across the street from a McDonald's restaurant. Right behind him, the GM delivery truck halted at the kerb, Tamir at the wheel. The young Saudi climbed out, walked back to Rashid's Plymouth and got in beside him. Rashid had explained everything down to the last detail, and the man knew his fate, had trained for it, prayed for it. Rashid carefully reached down, lifted the briefcase from the floor and handed it over. The young man clutched it in front of him, stared down at the case as if it held some deep religious significance. His face was prickled with tiny droplets of sweat.

'Your moment has come, Tamir. You know exactly what you have to do.'

The man looked up, licked his lips, nodded earnestly. 'Yes, my brother.'

'May Allah go with you. This night, you will be a martyr in heaven.'

8.15 p.m.

'We need some calm here, people. Quiet down, everyone.'

In the situation room, the President called his shocked advisers to order. A babble of voices filled the air as everyone around the table tried to recover from the impact of Abu Hasim's blunt interruption of his transmission.

'Professor Stern ... ' the President's tone was bleak as he addressed the petite psychologist once the noise had died down. 'You're about the only one among us who doesn't look shocked by what just happened.'

'I guess I half expected it, Mr President. I know Franklyn and I suggested you use Mr Rapp as mediator. But in the back of my mind I had a feeling Hasim wouldn't fall for it. But we had to try. It's plain now he's not going to be duped, or easily swayed. This is going to be much harder than we thought.'

'It's obvious that Hasim's got a keen grasp of tactics,' Franklyn Young offered. 'Insane he may be, he's one sharp sonofabitch. We're facing an uphill battle.'

'What do you suggest we do?'

'Give it another five minutes, then try and talk to him directly.'

'And tell him what?'

'Exactly as we agreed,' Stern answered. 'Make him believe that you're taking him seriously. That you're working hard with your advisers to satisfy his demands. It might do no harm to say that you'd appreciate if he could still accept Mr Rapp as a personal mediator. That it would allow you to concentrate all your efforts on resolving his entire list of issues. But don't push it. Bring up the point about the Gulf withdrawal again. It's so vitally important we try to suck him into the conversation, get a dialogue going. And again — I stress this — don't anger him. Get him into an argument and you risk him cutting us off again. Maybe for good this time.'

The President pursed his lips tightly, finally nodded. 'OK, let's give it another shot.'

The President leaned towards the microphone. 'Mr Hasim,' he began immediately, once the line was open again. 'This is the President of the United States. Can you hear me?'

Hasim spoke, and the translator at the President's side relayed the reply. The terrorist's tone was calm, almost hushed. 'Yes, I can hear you.'

The President's face flushed red, evidence of his hidden fury that, as the leader of the most powerful country on earth, he was being forced to prostrate himself in front of a cowardly terrorist who'd destroy the American capital and kill hundreds of thousands of its citizens. 'Mr Hasim, I wish to assure you that the list of demands you delivered to me almost forty-eight hours ago has been given close and painstaking scrutiny by myself and my closest advisers, and that we are prepared to act on those demands. Before we proceed, however, I want to make it clear that I personally deplore your behaviour. No matter how great the differences that divide us — racial, religious or otherwise — and no matter how intensely you loathe this administration, or how great your hatred of the American people, their way of life and their core values, your decision to threaten to destroy this city and its population is a cowardly and inhumane act.'

The President's brutal honesty immediately sent everyone in the room into a panic. Janet Stern made an abrupt gesture that indicated 'stop', but the President ignored her, gritted his teeth and stabbed his finger at the translator. 'Interpret what I said! Don't you dare change a damned word, you hear? I want this sonofabitch to know exactly how I feel.'

'Yes, sir.' As the translator did his work, Janet Stern shook her head in dismay. The President had gone his own way, disregarding everyone's advice. Still, she had a grudging admiration for the man. He had balls, and pride. And he'd been clever enough to let Hasim know from the very start that his ultimatum was being acted upon. Hearing that, Hasim would be less inclined to cut off the communication. But there was no telling where this conversation would go.

'You have a powerful weapon that threatens this nation, Mr Hasim,' the President continued, before Hasim even had a chance to reply. 'But understand that I, too, have at my disposal an array of weapons even more powerful that can annihilate you and every one of your followers, in Afghanistan or wherever else they may hide. If you force me to, and no matter what the consequences may be, I shall use my country's arsenal to destroy you. I want you to be aware of that, and to tell you that any president in my position would have been tempted to do exactly that the moment your message was delivered.

'However, I didn't, because I believe, like any sensible human being, that the first way to attempt to solve any conflict is through dialogue. I want you to know also that I have begun the process of acceding to your demands. There's a long list, and attending to it is taking up every moment of my time, which is why I ask that you allow Mr Rapp, whom you spoke with, to act as a conduit between us, so that I can devote all my energies to solving these problems, and with your help. For example, I have ordered that fifteen per cent of US troops leave Middle Eastern soil immediately. That withdrawal is already under way as we speak. But your stipulation that your threat must not be made public makes it extremely difficult for me order a complete pull-out of US forces in the region within the next five days without drawing massive media attention. That is one of the reasons why we need to talk, Mr Hasim. To find a way out of this dilemma.'

The President sat back from the microphone, sweat glistening on his forehead from the concentration he'd just exerted. As he dabbed his brow, he looked at Janet Stern and Franklyn Young. They each gave him a nod, confirming he was doing all right, but there was an ominous silence before Hasim answered through the translator.

'Mr President, I have not agreed to this talk to hear your threats. For too long America has used its superior power to intimidate the Arab world. It has ended now. We are equals. I will not be threatened.'

'Mr Hasim ... ' The President flushed. ' ... it's hardly you who's being threatened here. Let's not forget who began this.'

There was a pause as the translator got back to work, and then Hasim spoke again. 'Your country began this. By using its power to abuse Arab nations and suppress their rightful place in the world. By its interference in Arab lands, where it is not wanted. And you are still abusing it by threatening me with your missiles. You shall not threaten me again, do you understand? Nor do I wish to hear your excuses. My demands require no further discussion, only action on your part. I have no intention of entering into a dialogue with you, or your administration. Not now, or in the future. I only wish to be assured that you are complying with all of my demands. Are you complying? Please answer yes or no.'

Hasim paused to allow the State Department translator to interpret his words. The President gritted his teeth, angered by the boldness of the man. 'Mr Hasim, it was not my intention to threaten you. Rather to make you aware of the tragic outcome if your device goes off and American citizens are harmed. You must understand the grave position it puts you and your followers in. That if you disperse this chemical, you and they will die also. Not only that, this nation is made up of many diverse religions and nationalities. There are many people of Arab blood, people from Afghanistan and your native Saudi Arabia among them. The vast majority of these people are God-fearing Muslims. They would also be among the victims of your attack. Surely, as a man of God, as a fellow Muslim, you are concerned by this? These people are your brothers, your sisters, and their children. I can't believe you'd want to see innocent fellow Muslims killed. Surely you understand my point?'

Hasim's reply, seconds later, was abrupt. 'I do not have to understand anything. If Muslims are to die, they will be martyrs to a holy and just cause. You have not answered my question. Are you complying with my demands?'

The President bit back his rage. 'Mr Hasim, I have no choice except to comply. But what guarantees can you give me that the bomb will be safely defused once your conditions are met?'

The translator spoke, and Hasim answered again. 'You will have my word, witnessed by Allah. The bomb is set to automatically detonate when the deadline chosen by me expires. Only I can deactivate it. When my demands are met, I shall relay to you its location.'

'And the problem of the media?'

'That is not my concern. Or how you remove your troops from the Middle East. Only that it is done, and by the time the deadline is due to expire.'

'Mr Hasim, America is a democracy. I am simply the head of a government. To withdraw within the timeframe you demand and without public explanation as to why would expose me to political and media enquiry. The American people would want to know why their troops are being withdrawn from the Middle East. As would her allies, including those in the Arab world. A withdrawal such as this is a mammoth military and political undertaking, and will have grave international repercussions, as I'm sure you're aware.'

Hasim's tone remained calm, almost without emotion. 'You are not listening, Mr President. Please do not waste my time with your speeches. I will not be drawn farther into this conversation. I will not enter into dialogue. Will you comply, yes or no?'

'Yes, Mr Hasim, I will comply. I'm trying to help you, but you re not making this easy. Surely there must be a way we can accommodate both our positions? What if we were to phase a withdrawal? Over several weeks? Wouldn't that be acceptable? Your wishes will still be carried out. In the meantime, we can work together on how it can be done.'

There was a long pause before Hasim came back again. This time the calm had been replaced by an irate tone. 'As always, you Americans do not listen. I have told you my demands. I have told you I will not enter into dialogue. Yet you still attempt to cajole and bargain. Understand, I shall not bargain. You have vexed me by your attempts to negotiate, Mr President. But you have committed an even graver error.'

'What?'

'You have lied to me. I believe that you are not in the least serious about agreeing to my demands.'

A stark silence descended on the situation room as the translator delivered Hasim's reply, and the President turned to look at his advisers. Suddenly Hasim carried on. 'I do not believe that you intend to honour the commitment you just gave. And in asking me to help you, you are simply trying to buy time. I believe that you will use these remaining five days to try to locate the chemical device before the deadline expires. I know this is your hope, Mr President. But it is a vain hope. True, your FBI located and attacked members of one of my cells. By the grace of Allah, they escaped. But I have many followers hidden in the United States. You cannot hope to find them all, no matter how hard you try. And even if you found them, even if you killed them all, it would not prevent me carrying out my promise.'

There was a pause, and then Hasim continued. 'I say to you that fifteen per cent is not enough. Only by withdrawing every last American serviceman and fulfilling every one of my demands will you save your capital and its people. Yet you do not seem to understand this. Therefore, to impress again upon you my determination, and that of my followers, who are God's martyrs, I am forced to give you an example of our resolve, our willingness to die in order to bring ruin upon America. It will be the last example I offer, I promise you. After that, there will only be the destruction of your entire capital.'

The President, upon hearing the translation, felt a growing panic, and tried to interrupt.

'No, please, listen to me ... '

The translation that came back was sharp and unforgiving. 'Interrupt me again and I shall immediately cease this communication, and for good. It is you who will listen to me, Mr President, and listen well. You and your advisers have brought this upon your own heads. You have now condemned innocent people to death by your vain hope and your intransigence. However, this last example I offer will allow you all to reconsider your position. It will focus your minds on what needs to be done, and impress on you all that there will be no more lies and false promises. By midnight, less than four hours from now, when you have witnessed and digested my warning, we will talk again. Until then, Mr President, may God have mercy on the souls you have condemned.'

Washington, DC 9.05 p.m.