Gathering Storm. Don Pendleton

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СКАЧАТЬ cash transactions. They were able to move it back and forth across the globe. In effect, the cash was being laundered.”

      He brought up an image on one of the large wall screens.

      “From Iraq to London. Across to South Africa. Hong Kong and Japan. Even Russia. Down to the Balkans.”

      “Looks like it’s done some traveling,” James said. “Aaron, isn’t it possible to follow the electronic trail?”

      Kurtzman sighed. “Not as easy as it sounds. The way the money has been pushed around lessens the chances of tagging it. Each transaction weakens the electronic trail. One big chunk would be broken up and distributed among a number of recipients. They would push it further along the path. Some would be put into legitimate businesses. It’s like shuffling a pack of cards before you deal. There’s no way of knowing where a particular card will show up. By the time the cash comes together again, no one knows where it originated.”

      “The whole system was designed to conceal what was being done,” Brognola added. “And to make it difficult for what is being attempted now. M-I6, Mossad, CIA, they all have teams out looking for the regime’s missing billions. One thing we did come up with. Aaron put names and faces through the system—Saddam’s agents, his brokers, whatever you want to call them. Key individuals have disappeared. Others we know have died in suspicious circumstances. The conclusion is they were killed by regime hit men as a way of guaranteeing their silence, preventing them giving any information as to where the money might be.”

      “If Khariza was such a big noise,” Manning asked, “how come he doesn’t have access to at least some of the cash?”

      “Small amounts, no problem,” Brognola said. “But he’ll need the big money to broker his main deals, the kind of money he can’t get without access to the right accounts.”

      “Our friend from Mossad, Ben Sharon, has a contact who might be able to give us some guidance,” Price said. “His name was mentioned in Rasheed’s organizer.”

      Brognola nodded. “Aaron.”

      The screen image changed to show a head-and-shoulders shot of a man in his forties—black hair, clean-shaven, a lean face, bright eyes staring directly at the camera.

      “Ibn el Sharii. According to background checks, he was part of Khariza’s staff,” Kurtzman said. “Big Saddam loyalist until the regime had his brother executed as a traitor just before the war. Something about him having been caught in meetings with pro-Western groups. Rumor has it Khariza carried out the execution personally. Insider information tells us that Sharii took the news badly. He realized his own time was running out, so he got out of Iraq before he went the same way as his brother. Before he left he set up a virus in the computer program where the access numbers and codes were stored. The moment anyone tried to access the system to get the account codes, the virus would just corrupt the whole thing and wipe it completely. Sounds like he wanted to leave the regime something to remember him by.”

      “Giving the finger to the fedayeen isn’t a good way to stay healthy,” James said.

      “Maybe Sharii decided he didn’t have anything more to lose. He stayed low, out of sight in Europe, finally reached London. It was a Mossad agent who spotted him there. Sharon connected the information Abe Keen sent to us with Sharii’s knowledge. Mossad agreed to let Sharon follow through with us because we’ve worked with him before. Mutual needs, really,” Price said. “One more thing. Khariza still has plenty of sympathizers out there. People who agree with his aims. Groups who want us to suffer. They’ll give him help with what money and equipment they can, and they’ll point him in the direction of anyone who he wants to get his hands on.”

      “Thing is, you’re right,” Blancanales agreed. “There’s a whole world of help out there for someone like Khariza.”

      “They’ll be crawling out of the bloody woodwork,” McCarter said. “Sad thing is, we’ll have people from our own countries ready to help, too.”

      “They have their beliefs as much as we do, David.”

      McCarter glanced at Brognola. “Don’t I know it. All I’m saying is it makes it harder for us to get to the right people.”

      “Aaron has got some more intel for you,” Brognola said. “It should give you background on the missions you’ll be assigned once he’s through. Barbara has logistic details and backgrounds for cover identities. This is up and running, people. The way things are accelerating, we have to start in top gear. It’s obvious the opposition is operating in a number of different areas, so we have to cover what we can. We’re going into this with minimal information. You know my feelings on that, but the President has the bit in his teeth and I can understand his motives. Situations can change fast, and if we don’t stay on top we could be too late if the main event comes out of left field. I know this is throwing you in without much background. It means you’re going to have some location changes. Can’t be helped. Let’s find out what Khariza is up to. Go for anything that might give us answers. The President has given this to us because he knows we’ll locate and terminate without interagency rivalry or internal agendas getting in the way.”

      “Any contact with other agencies as a matter of interest?” Calvin James asked. “We’ve had problems before from them because they don’t know us and we don’t know them.”

      “If anything gets in the way, you pass it to me. I’ll field it and get the President to step in.”

      “Hal, with due respect, that’s a crock,” Lyons said tersely. “We end up in a face-off with some agency rule-book geek, there isn’t much chance for time-out so we can call home and get clearance.”

      Brognola held up his hands in surrender. “You got me there, Carl. In the field you have to call whatever you feel is the right choice. If there’s no time and it’s a case of being compromised, then do what you have to. It comes down to the choice about which is the priority decision. Let’s call this what it is, guys. We are in a war situation. The ex-regime groups are out to do two things. Inflict as much pain and suffering as they can on specified Western targets and stir up trouble in the Middle East. At the back of all this are the attempts to get hold of power in Iraq. Do I have to spell out the end results if we don’t go out and stop it?”

      Kurtzman picked up a printed sheet. “This is an extract from one of the Intelligence Analysis think tanks. Something to bear in mind. ‘Ex Ba’ath Party members will seek out their stolen money so they can rearm themselves. Part of their strategy will be to move into organized crime in order to reestablish themselves. It has to be remembered that these people were used to the best of everything and will want to retain their status. But they will also do what they can to infiltrate the Iraqi ruling party to destabilize it and get some control over the government. They will attempt to stir up trouble between all the various classes within Iraq society. Their ultimate aim will be to create unrest. Mistrust. A sense of loss of national identity.”’

      Lyons leaned back in his seat. His question had been answered. It was the same for all of them. In an ongoing tactical situation, where balances had to be weighed, there were times when choices to be made might not look so clean-cut in the light of day. There was no easy way around that kind of dilemma. A man had to deal his hand and live with the consequences.

      “Initial missions,” Price said to break the contemplative silence. “Able, you need to follow up these mainland threats. Pick up where Phoenix left off. Nuevo Laredo. Your contact in there is Tomas Barranca. If there’s any talk about these arms deals Phoenix hit on, Barranca is your man.” She handed over files for the team to study.

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