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WASHINGTON, D.C.

USA

14

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The usual sound and visual recording in the ‘sit’ room was turned off. The only people left were Chuck Harrison, and Woods’ Chief of Staff and long-term trusted friend, Edward ‘Teddy’ Adleman as well as Lyndon Clark, Secretary of State, a tall, poised straight-talking black man.

Clearing his throat, Woods said, ‘This better be good, Chuck. You better have a damn good reason for having the bomber in your custody so I can appease, or at least try to appease, the FBI.’

Chuck, also clearing his throat – a side effect of the intense vigor of the air-con – said, ‘Before I start, Mr President, can I just confirm our prisoner transfer meeting is still going ahead on Friday? I think I’m probably correct in thinking it’ll be a ghost meeting so I won’t be able to get my staff to confirm it via the presidential memoranda. As I said last week, it is a matter of urgency that we look at the current approaches to prisoners like Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad.’

‘Chuck, we need to get on with this, but to answer your question, yes it is going ahead, though and as I said last week to you, prisoner transfer and release of terrorists – particularly terrorists such as Bin Hamad – is no longer this administration’s policy. We do not negotiate with Al Qaeda or their off-shoots. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re on the clock…’

With just a single blink, and not – and never – giving away his feelings unless there were deliberate and strategic motives, Chuck nodded. ‘Okay, well as we know, Boko Haram, whose official Arabic name is…

Lyndon Clark interrupted: ‘Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad.’

Chuck cut Lyndon a hard stare. ‘Exactly. Which loosely translates to…’

‘People Committed to the Propagation of the Prophet’s Teachings and Jihad.’

‘Lyndon, would you like to take this meet?’

‘If you like.’

Chuck, not for the first time, wondered what Woods had been trying to prove putting another colored man in such a high-ranking role. First it was Teddy and now Lyndon. It was bullshit, because there’d also be an agenda. Lyndon would always be running round needing to prove something. Proving he was as up to the job as the white man. Proving he wasn’t selling the African-Americans out with his policies. Proving above and beyond anything else – including and especially being a colored man – he was first and foremost a citizen of the United States who loved his country like the founding fathers had.

Chuck smiled. Didn’t reach his eyes. Didn’t reach any part of him. ‘There’s nothing to prove here, Lyndon.’

Lyndon Clark touched his small goatee beard. Sneered. Which met his eyes. Which met every damn part of him. ‘I’m not following you, Chuck. Care to expand?’

‘What I mean is. It won’t make any difference to the way I feel about you or how you’re doing your job.’

Woods looked at Chuck. Then Lyndon. Eyes fixed on each other. Bolted together. Felt like he could go right on and cut the air in two with a scythe. ‘Chuck, continue with what we’re here for.’

‘Certainly, Mr President, and just to refresh, Boko Haram – as we all know – were founded in 2002, though they didn’t really launch military operations until 2009. They’re a rebel group and self-professed Islamist movement, based mainly in northeast Nigeria, though there are offshoots in Chad, Niger and Cameroon. Recently they’ve stepped up the wave of suicide bombings, mass attacks on villages, including looting and killing, forcibly conscripting men and boys, and of course there’s also the abduction of women and children. Especially girls. I’m sure everyone remembers the international outrage and the campaign in 2014 when they abducted more than two hundred schoolgirls from Chibok town in Borno state.’

Woods nodded. ‘Bring back our girls.’

‘Yeah and as yet we’re still waiting – though all here present will appreciate that’s probably not going to happen. They’ve either been forced to become slaves, married off or used as suicide bombers… The main objective for Boko Haram? To overthrow the government and create a caliphate state. Most tellingly, and a growing concern, is they’ve also pledged their allegiance to ISIL. The US designated them a terrorist group in 2013.’

Woods looked at his watch. ‘How does this all fit in?’

‘Well, what we’ve been doing is working on fresh information in regards to the movements of Boko Haram. Human intelligence tells us the bomber, David Thorpe, who we now have in our custody, and are questioning in one of our sites in Turkmenistan, has direct links with a group we’ve been following in Nigeria.’

‘How reliable is your HI?’ Woods asked.

‘Very. And that’s why it’s important we question him rather than the FBI. So our operation isn’t at all compromised.’

‘Ok, so here’s my questions. Do you think he’s linked to the suicide bomber at Memphis airport, as well as the bombers in the other states last week? You think they were in a cell, or could it be a case of a wave of copycat lone wolves, who were perversely inspired by one another?’

‘I think it’s the former, Mr President. The suicide bombings were definitely coordinated attacks and it’s a likely supposition, well, more than likely according to HI, that this attack from this particular bomber was spaced a week apart from the others to create an even greater impact on the country. As in, we had the first spate of bombings, then over the following two or three days everything was on code red, the American people were afraid. Then, like a mass movement, there was a sense of a united front amongst everybody. A determination to carry on with life regardless. Stats show cancelled flights throughout the country were re-booked. A surge in people going to the movie-theater. Showing the terrorists they won’t win. And then, bang. Right out of nowhere, another bomb. Only this time bigger. Much bigger. Everybody’s worst nightmare. Causing maximum psychological impact to the American people.’

Woods glanced over at the black and white security tape. Un-paused it. Watched it again. The bomber, David Thorpe, had walked into a coffee shop, hence the Washington Post – much to his irritation – naming the guy ‘the coffee shop bomber’ and even going on to report how the guy took his coffee.

Non-fat.

No whipped cream.

Eggnog Latte complete with cinnamon sprinkle.

Afterwards David Thorpe had sauntered over to the truck he’d driven. Locked it then walked away, only for it to explode twenty minutes later, taking down half a government building in Chatham, Illinois. It seemed almost miraculous that there hadn’t been fatalities. A lot of the area had been closed down, after reports of a chemical spill had forced evacuations across three to four blocks. However, there’d been a hell of a lot of destruction

Thorpe’s face had been clear on the CCTV, and the FBI had picked him up easily from a small place near Willowbrook, just off state 55. A two-and-a-half-hour drive from where the bomb had exploded. Reports said, the guy had just been getting on with it. Getting on with his business like everyday folk did. Like nothing had happened.

‘I don’t agree,’ Lyndon said.

Chuck leant forward. Tilted his head. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I don’t agree. This bomb that Thorpe used was sophisticated. The others weren’t. Far from it.’

‘I don’t see what difference that makes, Lyndon.’

‘Oh come on, it’s elementary, there’s no way a cell group jumps from the most basic of basic suicide vests made with common household products to a highly complex and powerful bomb. You don’t go down to the local drug store for that. I say this is something different. Not connected.’

‘Everyone’s a counter terrorism expert.’

Lyndon strained to hear. ‘Did you say something, Chuck?’

‘No… No, I just think you’re wrong. So wrong it’s untrue. Boko Haram, who we think all these recent bomb attacks are linked to, have also developed connections and taken on philosophies of other militant groups, such as Al-Qaeda and, as I say, ISIL. Therefore, using such an elaborate bomb isn’t so far removed as you think.’

Woods said, ‘What do we know about David Thorpe personally?’

‘Born 1966. Nigerian descent. He’s single. Newly divorced, though he separated from his wife five years ago. One child aged ten, but apparently he doesn’t see them much if at all. He works full time at a local car showroom. After his wife left him, he rediscovered his religion, though it wasn’t long before he began to study Wahhabism – a form of Islam widely practiced in Saudi Arabia. Wahhabism is seen as an ultra-conservative branch of Islam and is often referred to as the revolutionary branch. It also forms the fundamental ideology of ISIS, Boko Haram and Al-Shabaab, as well as several other jihadist groups. And what they say is the reason behind all their actions is to form a caliphate.’

Woods nodded. ‘And the problem with a caliphate is that it’s the model of Medina, all about expansionism.’

Chuck said, ‘Give me a government and a foreign policy which isn’t all about that and I’ll give you Switzerland.’

Against his better judgement, Woods smiled and Lyndon shook his head, speaking thoughtfully. ‘Boko Haram just don’t travel though, Mr President. I don’t buy it.’

Woods looked at Lyndon. ‘Think about it, though. When Al Qaeda first started out, AQ wasn’t an operational organization like it is now, but only an idea. There was only Bin Laden and Abdullah Azzam. But unlike his counterparts, Bin Laden decided on the idea of fighting the far enemy instead of the near enemy which had previously been targeted, and over time his idea became a franchise. Jihadists from all over the world came to him based on his philosophy of the far enemy. He trained them in guerilla techniques and warfare – basically how our CIA had trained him during Afghanistan’s war against Russia. He is also funded these franchise associated groups, and lone wolf operators, who were deadly and driven on by Bin Laden’s philosophy. So maybe these bombers, although linked to Boko Haram, have taken on the philosophy of the far enemy… Us. America.’

Taking a sip of water, Chuck looked at the President. ‘Dar al-harb. Land of war. That’s what’s happening here. Terrorist groups feel they can validate what they do, attacking the far enemy, because they feel they’re fighting a holy war. And that’s my guess on what was driving David Thorpe.’

Woods, feeling the first tingle of pins and needles in his fingers, stretched his hand out. ‘I mean, I understand you’d want your own land and county. Right now in the world there isn’t an official Islamic state. That can only happen when there’s a Caliph and Caliphate, and apart from the problem with expansionism, there’s nothing wrong with a Caliphate in its purest form. People don’t get that Islam isn’t just a religion, it’s a way of life for an individual and a society as a whole. It’s a system; a ruling, economic, administrational, social, penal and personal one. But what’s happening here with all the jihadist movements, well, that’s about terror and our job is to stop it. But the damn problem is the whole thing has created such a divide, not only within the Muslim community, but within the world as a whole.’

Chuck agreed. ‘Which goes back to our bomber, David Thorpe. He became very vocal about his allegiance to such groups, but in particular to Boko Haram. Hate preaching. Speaking of violence. And eventually he drew the attention of the authorities. A few years ago Thorpe was put on the federal No-Fly List.’

‘He’s still on it, I take it,’ Woods said.

Chuck shook his head. Contemplated taking a sip of water. Changed his mind before stifling a yawn. ‘Nope.’

‘Jesus, Chuck, you kidding me? What happened?’

‘What I can see from the data he was taken off about a year ago.’

‘You need to bury that one.’

‘Well, someone along the line clearly thought Thorpe was no longer a danger.’

‘Until he blows up a building. And why Chatham? What’s there? It’s just a pretty village south of Springfield.’

Deciding he needed to let the yawn out and not bothering to cover his mouth, Chuck shrugged. ‘Excuse me, I was up late… Sorry, what was I saying? Oh yeah, it’s a real tragedy, sir.’

Woods peered at Chuck from above his rimless glasses. The man was cold. Didn’t even try to hide it. But then, it took a certain sort of someone to work in CTC and, over time, desensitization took over.

‘And as for the question, Mr President, of why Chatham? Who knows? He might have just put a pin in the map. But we’re looking into that.’

John Woods turned to Teddy Adleman, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet. He suspected the reason Teddy had said nothing was that his feelings towards Chuck Harrison were the same as Woods’. The least time having to converse with him the better.

‘What do you think, Teddy?’

Teddy nodded to Woods. Nodded at Lyndon. Didn’t bother looking at Chuck. He spoke in a hushed voice. ‘So if we’re saying Thorpe isn’t a lone wolf, and he’s linked with the other bombers, my question is why didn’t he kill himself too? Like the others. I see the profile and I get it. But Lyndon’s right, something just doesn’t fit…’

Woods was curious. ‘Go on.’

‘The fact is, Boko Haram is a domestic terror group. Focused on their country. This, as far as I know, will be the first time they’ve come outside the immediate vicinity of Nigeria and the neighboring countries.’

‘Chuck, you want to pick that up?’

‘Mr President, there’s a first time for everything. There’s a metamorphosis in terrorism. What was once is not necessarily any longer.’

‘And apart from the No-Fly List, and a couple of interviews with the FBI, there was never any other eyes or ears on David Thorpe?’ Woods asked.

‘None.’

‘Is he talking?’

‘Nothing, but hey, we can easily remedy that. It’ll be like the good old days. Show him we mean business.’

‘For God’s sake, Chuck, are you seriously talking about EI? And just for the record, wherever it’s carried out, it’s not okay. Torture is never okay.’

Chuck shrugged again and took another sip of water and leant back on his chair and winked at Lyndon and pulled at the hair in his ears and said, ‘Hey, whatever happened to having a sense of humor? But for my record, I disagree, and when it comes down to it, I don’t care what any of the liberalists say. I know for a fact every citizen, senator and even you, Mr President, would be calling on a guy like me to get the information from a prisoner, if that prisoner had taken and kidnapped a loved one. They’d be begging me to use enhanced interrogation; water board the hell out of that son-of-a-bitch like there’s no tomorrow. And it wouldn’t matter to them what I did as long as I brought their kid or whoever it was back home safely. I know you’d want me to get the information from a person who took your son, wouldn’t you, Mr President? No matter what it took.’

Woods said nothing.

‘Think about it, Mr President, and tell me I’m wrong… You can’t, can you? And that’s the point. What’s the difference between getting information about a loved one in danger, or getting information about this country which is also in danger? Because that’s how I see America. As something I love, will protect and keep safe. Which means if I know that there’s someone with information about attacking this great nation and hurting her, then I will do all I can to make sure that threat isn’t carried out. We need to stop all this sentimental bullshit and outright hypocrisy, because otherwise we will keep having attacks on Homeland. Whatever it takes to protect and serve… By any means necessary.’

Lyndon P Clarke smiled. Wide. It hit his eyes so hard they sparkled. ‘One of your heroes?’

‘What?’

‘Just that it’s good to hear you quoting Malcolm X, Chuck. Who would’ve thought?’

Woods, not even attempting to hide his own smile, said, ‘Lyndon, are you still going out to Turkmenistan?’

‘I am.’

‘I can’t see any need for that,’ Chuck said.

To which Lyndon answered, ‘No, I’m sure you can’t. But I’ll see you there.’

A hush. A breeze of tension settled in the air before Woods asked, ‘Have we got anything on the other bombers yet, Chuck?

‘We got nothing, Mr President, but the odds are they didn’t come from the US. No doubt smuggled in just for this purpose. It’ll take longer to find out who they are – or rather who they were – because they’re only kids. Terrorist kids, but kids nevertheless.’

‘They were somebody’s children, Chuck. They didn’t wake up one day and decide to get involved with this on their own. Take their life. Someone, somewhere got them to do this. But the point is they’re dead when they should be in high school or college. They were somebody’s babies. I’d say they were as much a victim as everyone else.’

Chuck Harrison clenched his teeth. Hard. It was bullshit. And hell, he was going tell Woods just that. ‘Bullshit.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Bullshit, Mr President. Those kids. Those victims as you call them, well, let me tell you, a lot of them are more radicalized than any adult. Not a day goes by when somewhere in the world, there isn’t a kid strapping on his or her suicide vest to cause the most damage and the most casualties. Why? Because they believe they’re going to get the pleasures and blessings of paradise. They’ll leave behind their crippling poverty and a life less lived with one push of a button. That’s all it takes. One push for them to reap their rewards in paradise.’

Woods said nothing.

‘And the problem you have, Mr President, is that you can’t give a definitive answer and say their beliefs aren’t true. And because you can’t, you will always have the threat of suicide bombers happy to go to paradise, no matter what the age.’

‘But you must see they start off as victims, even if it’s a victim to their environment.’

Chuck gave a small smile. ‘No, what I see is terrorists.’

‘Chuck…’ Woods paused.

Tried again.

‘Chuck…’

Winced.

Then said, ‘Excuse me, everyone, I just need to use the bathroom.’