Dumond pointed at the middle screen, which had a map of the greater Mosul metropolitan area. “These red dots represent mobile phone towers.”

Rapp noted that there was easily more than a hundred dots on the screen.

“Now if Mukhtar is using a satellite phone,” Dumond continued, “he’ll bypass these towers and the big bird up in space will get him.”

“Do you have Ashani’s voice programmed into recognition software?”

“Yep,” Dumond pointed at the third screen. “It’s all set to go. As soon as he comes online. I’ll have verification for you in ten seconds or less.”

“And Mukhtar?”

“We have no known samples, but we’ll be able to use this print and run it against everything we have in the archives.”

“How long will that take?”

“Even if we prioritize it, the search might take weeks. We’re talking about a lot of phone calls.”

“There’s got to be a way to speed it up.”

“If we get lucky and find a hit, we can narrow the search to a specific time frame and region. That would help.”

The door to the trailer opened and General Gifford entered with two other officers. All three were in full battle gear with sidearms strapped to their right thighs.

Gifford took off his helmet and said, “Mitch, Stan called me and said you guys might be close to finding a location.”

“That’s right, General.”

“How good is the intel?”

“We have Mukhtar’s mobile phone number, and we expect him to be receiving a call any minute.”

“We’ve got a hit on one of the previous numbers,” Dumond announced excitedly. He pointed at the middle screen. “This tower about ten miles east of town. My guess is he was traveling on this road right here.”

General Gifford hurried around the table and looked at the screen. “That’s Highway Two.”

“Hold on,” Dummond said, “the second number just came in.” He pointed to a tower near the Tigris. “This one was made after the first.”

Rapp looked at the new location and then checked the spot on the map where the ambush had taken place. “Based on the calls it looks like they tried to take her out of the city and then ended up coming back.”

“That’s assuming she’s still with this Mukhtar fellow,” Gifford said.

Rapp considered his point for a moment and said, “I don’t think he’d take his eyes off her.”

“The third number’s up.”

Rapp leaned over Dumond’s shoulder and looked as he pointed the same tower near the Tigris. “Stan,” Rapp yelled, “get in here!”

A moment later Stilwell emerged from his office and joined Rapp and Gifford. Rapp pointed at the middle screen. “Is this the part of town you were thinking of when you were talking about the stone in the photo?”

“It’s exactly where I was thinking.”

Gifford grumbled, “That’s the heart of Indian country.”

“Yeah,” Stilwell agreed. “Shiite central.”

“The streets are really narrow,” Gifford said with a wary expression. “We’ve had more than a few patrols ambushed in there.”

Rapp noticed Dumond touch his headset and then watched him reach for his mouse. After a single click a man talking in Farsi came over the speakers resting on the table. Rapp immediately knew the voice belonged to Ashani. Only he and Stilwell spoke Farsi.

“Ali, is that you?”

There was an unnerving pause and then another voice said, “Cyrus, you sound different.”

“That must be Mukhtar,” Rapp said to Dumond.

“I’m on it.”

From the speakers came, “I was asked by our friend to call and see if there was anything you might need. He is stuck in a very important meeting.”

“There is much that I need.” The man they assumed was Mukhtar made no attempt to hide his irritation. “Things are not progressing the way we had planned, and I have only a handful of men to assist me.”

“Can I send you some help? I have men in the area.”

There was a sigh followed by silence and then, “At the moment, I fear it would only draw more suspicion.”

“Then what can I do to help?”

Dumond announced, “We’ve got him.” He clicked the mouse and the middle screen zoomed in on a four block area of downtown Mosul. A blinking red dot marked the location of the call.

“Nothing at the moment,” Mukhtar replied.

“Our friend would like a progress report,” Ashani stated.

There was another long pause and then, “Tell him the videotape he requested is taking more time than I anticipated. The actress is not cooperating.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think if I employ some harsher methods, she will perform.”

Rapp’s gut twisted upon hearing the words. He pointed to the screen and asked Stilwell, “Where is that?”

“That’s the Great Mosque.”

“Oh shit,” Gifford moaned.

“What’s the problem?” Rapp asked.

“We can’t go in there.”

“What do you mean, you can’t go in there?” asked an irritated Rapp.

“The city would explode in violence.”

Rapp heard Ashani warning Mukhtar not to harm the actress. The words caused him to put aside what Gifford had just said and focus on Ashani and Mukhtar’s conversation.

“I have come too far to fail,” Mukhtar said. “I will do whatever it takes to succeed. Tell our friend I will have the tape for him within the hour.”

The call went dead. Rapp immediately told Dumond to get him a live overhead shot from one of the Predators. He then turned to Gifford. “You can’t go in there, or you won’t?”

“If the president tells me to go in there, I will go in, but I’m telling you, if American military forces surround and enter the holiest mosque in Mosul we will incite an all-out rebellion in the city and possibly the country.”

“He’s right, Mitch,” Stilwell said.

Rapp didn’t like it, but he knew they were right. “Then we need to go in low profile.”

“That’s fine, but the Great Mosque has some pretty serious security.”

“Local militia.”

“Basically.”

As Rapp struggled to find a solution he was reminded of something he saw in Stilwell’s office. “How well do your Kurds know this area?”

“Like the back of their hands.”

“All right, tell them we’re moving in five minutes, and tell them to bring everything they have.”

60

Only minutes after concluding his forced conversation with Mukhtar, Ashani was informed via intercom that Ayatollah Najar was holding on line one. Ashani greeted his old mentor with a mix of relief and panic. Before he could say a word, Najar ordered him to get to the Presidential Palace immediately for a meeting of the Supreme Security Council. Ashani found his friend’s brevity very unsettling, but after a moment he concurred that in the wake of the American president’s speech, it could simply be that Najar was in a rush to get a handle on the situation.

Five minutes later Ashani was in President Amatullah’s conference room with all but a few members of the Security Council. They were all waiting for the arrival of Najar and, they assumed, the Supreme Leader. While they waited, Ashani paid close attention to Amatullah. At present, he was standing in the corner talking with General Zarif and General Suleimani. All three men looked worried, but then again everyone in the room looked worried. Ashani tried yet again to figure out how far-reaching this plot was. Did Ayatollah Najar and the Supreme Leader know, or were they simply duped? Did they leave the city to distance themselves from any accusations should the plan fail or did they simply travel to Isfahan to offer aid to the families of those lost?

Ashani desperately wanted to believe that Najar was incapable of such foolish and deceitful behavior, but the man had been avoiding his calls all morning, and if Ashani had to guess why, it was because he was not prepared to answer any difficult questions. Nonetheless, here they were, on the brink of war, and a meaningful discussion of the facts had yet to take place. Something that had to happen if there was any hope of releasing Kennedy before the deadline.