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"Understood. Did you happen to pick up Badredeen or Mughniyah?"
"Unfortunately, no, but we have a few others that I think will please you." Kennedy retrieved another folder from her briefcase and laid it before Hurley. "Tarik al Ismael."
"Music to my fucking ears. Please tell me you IDed the prick."
"Hiding right under our noses a few kilometers down the road."
"Where?"
"He's been working at the UN office in Geneva. Attached to the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, if you can believe it. He lost a few pounds, cut his hair and beard, and ditched his contacts for eyeglasses. You have to admire his tradecraft." Kennedy fingered the old photo from his days when he was running operations for the Libyan intelligence service, and then the new photo. "It's a pretty good effort."
"You sure it's him?"
"Ninety percent on the photo and ninety-nine point nine on the voice ID. And he was calling about money missing from his account. If we hadn't had the big ears focused on these banks, I don't think we would have ever caught him."
Hurley thought of their conversation last night and frowned. "So you want to send Rapp after him?"
"Not just me. Ismael is near the top of Thomas's list."
"I don't know, Irene," Hurley said with obvious reluctance. "Ismael could bite back. He's not some fat arms dealer. He's a real killer."
"In a perfect world, Thomas would send all three of you after him, but we don't have that luxury right now."
"Why? Let's put Beirut off for a few days."
Like a Vegas dealer, Kennedy slid the gray file off to the side and moved the manila file front and center. "In the transcript, you heard Ivanov ask if his package was ready?"
"Yeah."
"He asked Sayyed if he was going to negotiate with the Persians instead..."
"Yeah."
"Remember what they did to Buckley?"
"Remember--I think about it all the time. I was just telling Mitch and Bobby Richards about him."
"Well, Thomas thinks the Schnoz is the package they are referring to."
Everything stopped. Hurley didn't so much as twitch for a good ten seconds. He'd known the Schnoz for close to twenty years and there was a running shopping list in his head of all the operations he'd been involved in. After a quick assessment of the potential damage, he leaned back and dropped the F bomb. Cummins had worked in Moscow before Damascus. If the Russians got their hands on him, they would be screwed in some of their most sensitive operations. He shook his head to get over the shock and said, "We can't let that happen."
"Thomas agrees. He has a source that says Schnoz is still alive. Emaciated and battered, but still alive."
"Shit."
"That's why he wants you and Richards to get to Beirut ASAP. As we discussed last night, Rapp will join up with you tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime, you two start poking around. If you can't find anything in forty-eight hours, Thomas wants you to use some of the new funds to negotiate for the Schnoz's release. Very quietly, though."
"Of course." Hurley was still trying to calculate the damage. "What about backup?"
"He's agreed to send a SOG team, but doesn't want to put them in-country until you have something solid."
"Understood." SOG stood for Special Operations Group. There was a good chance Hurley would know the men. "Air cover?"
"If you need it he'll get it. Last resort, though."
Before Hurley could comment, there was a banging on the side of the plane and he realized it was time to go. Kennedy passed him two files. "Those are for you. This one," she said as she handed him a third, "is for Mitch. Make sure he knows to destroy it before he makes contact with Ismael."
"Will do." Hurley stood. "Anything else?"
