SAHARA DESERT, SOUTHWEST OF TIMBUKTU
WEDNESDAY, 9:00 P.M. GMT
HOURS SINCE THE COUP: SIXTY-FIVE
“Sorry, everybody, we had to reschedule this task force meeting so many times. I appreciate the flexibility. I’m also sorry I can’t be there in person, but these are unusual circumstances. It’s now four o’clock Eastern Standard Time. Let’s get down to business.”
“Where exactly are you, Dr. Ryker?”
Good question.
“I’m sorry. I can’t say.” Judd rotated 360 degrees, peering out into the darkness over the vast desertscape all around him.
I’m not lying.
Judd was alone atop a desolate sand dune. He held his cell phone to his ear, underneath a head wrap keeping the blowing sand from his face. Even though it had been several hours since sunset, his shirt was drenched with sweat.
“We’ve got Embassy Bamako on the line, right?” asked Judd. “We should be scrambled and secure. Ambassador, what are the latest conditions on the ground?”
“Thank you, Dr. Ryker. Bamako appears to be calm. We are unaware of any significant changes in the political situation.” Larissa had an odd waver in her voice. “However, everyone, we have a new and serious security development, to which I’m turning the floor over to my defense attaché, Colonel Randy Houston.”
Judd realized he recognized Larissa’s waver.
Terror.
“Thank you, Ambassador James,” said Houston. He sounded hyped up and confident. Bordering on giddy.
“A few hours ago, we received a disturbing report directly from the Malian military that early this morning a Scorpion strike team, one of the units that we trained under the regional security platform, was ambushed while on patrol north of Timbuktu. All indications are that the Scorpions were attacked by an active cell of Ansar al-Sahra, led by a notorious terrorist named Bazu Ag Ali. We are gathering additional information on this character and his whereabouts. Because of the pullback order following the coup, we did not have any Americans embedded with the strike team at that time. That means no U.S. casualties. I repeat, no American personnel were directly involved or have been harmed. But the exclusion order also means we have no U.S. eyes to corroborate the attack or any of the details. We believe the entire team is KIA. The initial report indicates that their throats were slit, the bodies dismembered and displayed in a gruesome manner that I will not describe now. The killings are similar to what we’ve seen terrorists do in Iraq and Afghanistan. This attack by Bazu Ag Ali’s cell has all the hallmarks of al-Qaeda.”
He waited a moment to let those listening use their
imagination. “The bodies were discovered by a Tuareg civilian who is now in custody for his own protection. We will assess photos when they come in to verify the reporting, and we will attempt to debrief the civilian in coming days. In the absence of countervailing evidence, we are treating this incident as an indicator of the acceleration of the ambition and capacity of Ansar al-Sahra.”
Houston paused and the line was dead silent. He continued, “Our initial assessment was that the attack was designed to send us a message, but we weren’t sure what that message might be. Now I believe we do know. Within the past thirty minutes, we received new information that Ansar’s next target may be U.S. Embassy Bamako. We have indications that Bazu Ag Ali is planning an imminent attack, possibly within the next twenty-four hours. As a precaution, we have locked down the embassy, shut down consular services until further notice, expanded the setback perimeter, and pulled in all our people. Most have now complied.”
Judd shook his head.
Subtle dig.
“We are, of course, still assessing the information and cross-checking it with SIGINT data and other intelligence. But as of now, the local authorities believe the threat is credible. Our assessment concurs. We are therefore treating the threat as credible.”
We get it. You think it’s credible.
“This is State counterterrorism office,” interrupted a voice. “Does this new information suggest that Task Force Mali should be shifting from coup reversal to a security and counterterrorism
mandate? My office would support such a change, given the circumstances, and I have it on authority that the White House and Pentagon concur. What does the seventh floor think? Has Landon Parker weighed in here?”
“No,” interjected Judd. “I have no new instructions directly from Mr. Parker or the Secretary. That means no new mandate. This task force is chaired by S/CRU and we are still under direction to reverse the coup. Those are our orders. Embassy Bamako, continue with lockdown protocols. I am confident that Ambassador James and her team will take all necessary measures to keep everyone safe. And please keep us apprised of any additional developments. Do we have any updates on President Maiga or his condition?”
“This is narcotics and law enforcement. We have new reporting that President Maiga may have been using his old bank, BamakoSun Bank, to transfer funds for a Russian mining company that we now believe is a front company for narcotics smuggling in West Africa. There are Russians running cocaine from the coast, up through the ungoverned parts of Mali, and then into Europe via Algeria and Tunisia. We have other sources indicating suspicious Russian Antonovs landing at a remote airfield in the north, coming in via Yemen with unknown cargo. The new Malian attorney general has shared with our FBI liaison that he has a growing dossier on President Maiga’s business interests and plans to bring formal corruption and money-laundering charges, possibly as early as tomorrow. He shared in confidence that presidential immunity from prosecution may be on the table as part of his
resignation negotiations. We understand those negotiations are already under way.”
Resignation negotiations
under way? A new attorney general assembled a dossier in
just two days? Nothing in Africa happens this fast.
“Mali’s attorney general has also requested that the U.S. Department of Justice freeze bank accounts linked to Maiga here in Washington. His daughter, Tata Maiga, is living here and has an account at the Georgetown branch of SunCity Bank. They are asking DoJ to scan for suspicious transactions and to put an FBI tail on her.”
“This is S/CT again. We also have fresh reporting on Maiga. We suspected he was soft on extremists, but there may be additional evidence that he was channeling Saudi funds to disaffected Imams in the north using couriers based out of Nigeria. We will check for a SunCity Bank link, or anything connected to his daughter.”
“Hold on!” interrupted Judd. “Everyone knows the situation is highly fluid and early reporting is usually wrong. All these new reports need to be assessed. As of right now, our policy and the directions of the Secretary are clear: We are to restore the democratically elected president to office. That is official policy. Our job today is to break this coup. Let’s remember this is the same President Boubacar Maiga that sat next to the Secretary of State at the Jakarta Democracy Summit. He was fully vetted. So let’s not get ahead of ourselves with unconfirmed raw reports. We should allow the intel confirmation process to work before we do
anything rash. Let’s stay on task here, everybody. Now, do we have anything further?”
Silence.
“Very well. This meeting is adjourned.”
Judd pushed the button on his phone.
Christ
. Deep breath.
Where is this flood of reporting coming from? It’s a fucking hatchet job.
He rolled his thumb over the side of the phone, scrolling, scanning for Sunday’s name.
u there?
Judd took another deep breath. A hundred yards away, across the dead sea of sand, atop another stark dune, rested the old truck. A small fire flickered next to the pickup. Above him, the stars were so plentiful they appeared like fog. It was even more beautiful than watching the sky from the mountains in Vermont. . . . A welcome bong
rang out from his phone.
Sunday: Roger
Judd: New reports on BM pouring in but r they true?
Sunday: Unclear. 2 early 2 say.
Judd: Suspicious?
Sunday: Yes
Judd: Why?
Sunday: Sole source. Same source
Judd: Meaning??
Sunday: Don’t know. Still working on it.
Judd: One more favor: your friends have any info on a PAPA TOURE? Very discreet please.
Judd slid his phone into his pocket and gazed into the Saharan night sky. It was clear and the stars were a milky white, a bright sliver of the moon shone down like a spotlight on Judd, standing alone on the dune.
Who is Idrissa really working for? What about Diallo? Papa? Luc? Houston? Durham?
Come to think of it, who am
I
really working for?
Judd’s contemplation was interrupted by his buzzing phone. It was too quick for a reply from Sunday. He drew out the phone, which was flashing “Jessica cell . . . Jessica cell . . . Jessica cell.”
Shit.
Deep breath, push.
“Hey, Jess.”
“I won’t ask where you are, but I do want to know
how
you are. You owe me at least that.”
“You’re right. I’m fine. Please don’t worry.”
“I won’t if you tell me not to. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“There’s nothing on the news about Mali. Nothing at all.”
“I guess not much to report. How’s the beach?”
“Toby has the flu. Been throwing up all day. You making headway with Idrissa?”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Who gets the flu at the beach?”
“Your five-year-old son, apparently.”
“I’m sorry I’m not there. Give him a hug for me.”
“You’re not doing anything . . .
dangerous
, are you, Judd?”
“Of course not, Jess. I’ve hardly seen the outside of the
embassy. Don’t worry. Larissa and diplomatic security keep me wrapped tightly in the bubble.”
“Hmmm.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Did you see Papa yet?”
“No. He’s upcountry. In Dogon. But I did call him. He’s well. Keeping busy.”
“Stay in touch with him.”
“Jess, um . . .” He paused.
“Yes, Judd? Are you cutting out?”
“Jess, I’m still here. Have you ever had any reason to, um, to doubt Papa? Anything you’ve ever worried about?”
“Never.”
“Now that I’m in government, I need to be extra careful. What do we really know about Papa? Doesn’t he seem suspiciously well connected?”
“No, no, no. He’s just a networker. Remember, he helped introduce us. That’s what he does.”
“I suppose.”
“That’s why he’s valuable.”
“If you say so, Jess.”
“Why are you asking?”
“It’s nothing. Never mind.”
“You know, people often say terrible things about successful people. Try to cut them down just when they are getting ahead.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You should know that as well as anyone.”
“Right.”
“You can trust Papa. He is our friend.”
“Okay.”
“Judd, I’m telling you. You know I’m a good judge. You. Can. Trust. Papa.”
“Okay. I know, I know. You’re right. Jess, love to the boys.”
“These things can quickly get complicated,” she said, ignoring his attempt to get off the phone. “You have to stick with those you can trust. Don’t go looking for new enemies. And watch your back.”
“I will. I gotta go.”
“How did that Colonel Durham turn out?”
“Uh, yes, great guy. You were right about that, too.”
“Of course I was. Judd, the Special Ops guys can be very useful. They can do things others can’t, you know.”
“I’m learning that.”
“You never answered how you were doing with Idrissa. Are you pushing him out?”
“I’m trying my best. I’ve really got to go.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising. Come on, Judd, let me help you. Have I been wrong yet?”
Deep breath.
She’s right.
“Jess, it’s all moving too fast. I can see that something just isn’t right, but I don’t know what it is. What
is
crystal clear is that the tide is turning against Maiga. I feel like he’s losing. Like I’m losing.”
“What did I just tell you? You have to stick with those you know you can trust.”
“That’s part of the problem. I can’t even keep Washington on
board. I’ve been trying to play it straight, trying to make the case, but I keep hitting a wall.”
“Maybe you need a different strategy? If your data is all bad and the frontal approach isn’t working, maybe you need to try something else?”
“Like what?”
“You’re in Africa, you’re in the Sahara, Judd. How do people survive there? How have they lived through the droughts, the rise and fall of great empires, just making it through the hard life? How did Malians survive the French empire?”
“How is that helpful now? I don’t understand.”
“Think about it, Judd. You know about the scorpion and the snake?”
“The what?”
“Do you know what happens in the Sahara Desert when there’s a fight between a scorpion and a snake?”
“I have no idea. The natural sciences were your thing.”
“The snake is bigger and stronger, but the scorpion is craftier. A scorpion will play dead, it will make the snake believe that it’s winning, and then, when the time is right . . . the scorpion strikes. That’s how the scorpion wins.”
Huh?
“Got it, Judd?”
“I think so, yes.”
“I knew you would. Good luck, sweets.” Click.
Judd dropped the phone back into his pocket and scanned over the desert. Despite the serenity, his mind was racing.
What’s my next move? Where are all the pieces?
Judd suddenly felt very alone and self-doubt rushed back into his head.
What did Jessica really mean? Am I supposed to play dead?
He calmed himself and twisted his neck, cracking the vertebrae and clearing his head. He conjured up a mental list of the players and where they fit.
Maybe I am?
Judd retrieved his phone and dialed the direct line of Landon Parker, who answered on the first ring.
“Ryker, I understand you have yourself on a little adventure. I’ve been meaning to call you. The Secretary is concerned. She is preparing for the Euro–Near East Security Partnership summit in Istanbul next week, and the spotlight will be on counterterrorism cooperation. Mali’s not looking so good. We may need to adjust our strategy, Ryker.”