Pandora's Legion

10

“It will not be as simple as you imagine, brother.”

Imam Mustafah al Latif sipped more tea and replaced the small cup on its saucer beside the thin wafers. His guest, whom he knew as Mohammed Shakir, occasionally paid a visit to the Islamic Fraternal Association on behalf of certain Middle Eastern interests. Shakir’s position as an acting trade representative in the Pakistani embassy ensured freedom of movement and access to well-placed people. But he avoided al Latif’s mosque.

“I recognize the potential for… embarrassment,” Shakir said, choosing his words carefully. Whatever his faults, naivety was not among them. He always couched his messages in general terms, occasionally passing notes that were burned before he departed.

“It is more than that,” al Latif responded. “As you know, Northern Virginia has an active Muslim population but few organizations are approachable for… your likely purposes. Other groups support American initiatives and policies for a variety of reasons. In fact, one of our prominent artists designed a postage stamp for the United States government. Since there is every reason to believe that the more, ah, devoted groups and individuals are under scrutiny, you should seek men without obvious Islamic ties.”

Shakir inclined his head toward the cleric. “Just as you say. Any references would be gratefully received, with a suitable donation to the association for its many good works.”

Al Latif scrawled a list of three names with phone numbers. Handing it to the diplomat, he intoned, “One or two of these will undoubtedly consider whatever you propose. Copy these in your own hand and I will destroy the original. When you make contact, you are not to mention me or this organization.”

“You are extremely cautious, father. I admire your diligence.”

The imam raised his cup in salute. “And I commend your own good work.”

Steve Lee poked his head inside Leopole’s door. “Major Khan’s here. Looks like he has some news.”

Leopole was almost to the door when the Pakistani appeared. As always, he was impeccably dressed, reminding Leopole yet again of the differing emphasis between the two military cultures. They shook hands and sat down; Leopole motioned for Lee to remain.

Khan removed his hat and placed it beside his briefcase but that was the only deference to protocol. Unlike many officers in his army, he preferred substance to form. He got directly to the point.

“Colonel Leopole, I decided to come in person because I should not risk a security breach.” He pulled a map from his valise and spread it on the desk. “Here. We believe that some of the men you seek are in this area.”

Looking over Khan’s shoulder, Lee noted that the coordinates were only about twenty-five miles to the west, along the border.

Leopole’s gaze went from Khan to Lee and back again. “That’s excellent, Major. Ah, may I ask the source of your intel?”

“I cannot be specific because I do not have that information myself. But it comes from a very reliable conduit, one with excellent contacts in the Ministry of Defense. I could not inquire further without drawing suspicion.”

Biting his lip, Leopole scanned the map again. High, rugged terrain. Remote enough to be a likely hideout for people who did not wish to be found. “What can you tell us, Major?”

Khan lowered his voice slightly. “I am informed that al Qaeda operatives have used this vicinity fairly recently, smuggling people and material in and out of both countries. It is reported that some of their cargos are sensitive materials. That seemed enough reason to bring it to your attention.”

Lee stood up, obviously unconvinced. “Major Khan, please don’t misunderstand. I have no reason to doubt your sources, but ‘sensitive materials’ could be almost anything. Weapons, drugs, or…”

“Yes, yes. I agree.” Khan’s enthusiasm briefly overcame his usual courtly manners. “But there is something else.” He paused for dramatic effect. “My source says that a doctor is involved.”

Leopole sat upright. “Involved how?”

“I do not know exactly. But no mention of a medical connection has occurred before.”

Steve Lee’s eyebrows took an optimistic arch. “That’s the best lead we’ve had, Colonel.”

Leopole sat back, his fingers drumming on the desk. “Hell, it’s the only lead we’ve had.” He thought for a moment, weighing options. “Just one thing: if this is a false lead or a dead end, we risk tipping our hand. No telling who might be watching.”

“We could send in a recce team, dressed like locals. You know— take a quick look-see, then call in the rest if it’s promising.”

Lee sensed that his boss was inclined toward taking action. Frank Leopole clearly wanted some action.

Several seconds passed. Finally, Leopole said, “Steve, I like the way you think. I’ll call the admiral and recommend we go.”