The Bin Laden Plot

64 FAIRFAX, VIRGINIA

When Rolow finished explaining, Christine stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, then sank into a chair.

“I’ll take that drink now.”

Rolow poured one in a crystal glass and handed it to her.

She took a sip, then asked, “How the hell did you get your hooks into her?”

“She came to us.”

“Oh, that’s a red flag.”

“Agreed. It took a while to sort through things, and we’re still not sure what to make of it. We ended up keeping her at the farm for two training cycles as we tried to convince ourselves she’d come forth with a genuine aim to help us, rather than to work her way into a position where she could feed information to al-Qaeda and other terrorist organizations.”

Rolow explained, “To exploit her connections, Khalila pretends to be a double agent, providing screened information to Middle Eastern contacts in exchange for actionable information for us.”

“What’s your assessment? Do you think she’s truly working for us or someone else?”

Rolow shrugged. “She’s always obtained the information we desired and has never revealed anything unauthorized as far as we can tell, but she’s also lost a few partners in the process. We’re not sure if it’s a string of bad luck or she’s covering her tracks, eliminating anyone who learns too much.”

“And you teamed her up with Harrison?”

“The president said to pull out all the stops on the SecNav assassination attempt, so that meant we assigned Khalila. Harrison’s not an irreplaceable asset like she is; his loss wouldn’t be significant.”

Christine didn’t agree with Rolow’s assessment. Harrison would be a significant loss, at least to her. But she had to keep her personal interests from interfering with her job. Rolow was correct; compared to Khalila, Harrison was disposable.

“If any of our political enemies find out who we’ve let into the agency…” she said.

“As you can see,” he said, “this is a sensitive issue from several angles. The maximum secrecy regarding her identity is required.”

Christine agreed, then considered what she had learned today, suddenly realizing that Rolow didn’t know about bin Laden’s radio. In her mind, what Khalila had done was a telltale. She was protecting whoever had been aiding her father while he was on the run. She explained to Rolow that the radio was missing and that Khalila had visited the facility earlier in the day.

“That tells me,” she said, “that she’s not on our side.”

The revelation created a concerned look on Rolow’s face.