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"You mean ship. A boat is little. That is not little." Al-Yamani checked his watch and said, "Binoculars."
Yacoub zipped open the duffel bag and handed the high-powered binoculars over.
Al-Yamani looked through the lenses and found the vessel steaming toward port. It was a container ship. A big one, fully loaded. Beyond it, out to sea, al-Yamani could make out at least two more ships headed in. One of them was his ship, he hoped. A slight breeze blew in from the ocean and it carried with it the sound of engines and churning water.
A minute later the ship passed between their position and Fort Sumter. Al-Yamani read the name on the prow. It was not the ship he was looking for, but he was not surprised. His ship was not due for another ten minutes. He'd checked it on the internet before leaving Cuba. One of their people in Karachi had explained how to do it. Using GPS and transponders, merchant ships were tracked all over the globe. These big container vessels were run by state-of-the-art automated systems that maximized time and fuel efficiency. Barring bad weather or other unforeseen conditions, the arrival time of a vessel at a given port could usually be predicted within minutes.
Al-Yamani grew a bit nervous as the next ship passed and it again wasn't the one he was looking for. There were plenty more lights out on the horizon but he had waited a lifetime for this moment and he didn't want to wait any longer. If the Americans were onto the plan he would know soon enough, for there was no way they would risk letting this cargo enter one of their ports.
The next ship churned its way through the channel, its deck laden with multicolored containers stacked six high over every square foot of the aircraft carrier-sized deck. Its white superstructure was bathed in light and looked like it belonged in the business district of some generic downtown.
Al-Yamani strained to read the barely lit name on the prow and in the faint light he read the first three letters and knew it was the one he was expecting, theMadagascar. Al-Yamani lowered the binoculars and exhaled in relief. His ship had arrived.
He turned to his guide, and with genuine happiness he said, "Ibrahim, this is a great day for us."
* * *
Thirty-Four
AFGHANISTAN
Rapp left the ammunition bunker, grabbed Urda, and quickly explained to him everything he'd just learned from Abdullah. The two men double-timed it back to the intel tent where Rapp called for everyone's attention. This time he would hold off on contacting Washington until he could corroborate Abdullah's story.
The Saudi's earlier false confession was a setback. How bad a setback Rapp didn't know, but assets had undoubtedly been directed to check international airfreight coming into the U.S. over the last forty-eight hours. Even more harmful, though, would be the loss of confidence by those back in Washington pulling the switches. One more screwup and they would begin to doubt everything Rapp was sending them.
Just as Rapp was about to speak, his sat phone rang. He answered it reluctantly, and listened to Kennedy explain what was going on. The National Security Council was going to reconvene in a little over thirty minutes and decide on a course of action. Kennedy explained that several members of the council were pushing to evacuate the city, or at a bare minimum close all roads leading into the city and cancel Metro service before the morning commute got underway.
Once that happened, Kennedy told him what he already knew. They would have tipped their hand and the terrorists would know what was going on. Kennedy's fear was that if the bomb was already in the country, the terrorists would move up their timetable and detonate the weapon before the NEST teams had a chance to find it. Rapp agreed with his boss, but decided not to tell her what he had just learned from Abdullah. He had thirty minutes to confirm that Charleston was the port of entry for the bomb, and if need be he was going to use every last second. He told Kennedy he'd call her back before the meeting started and put his phone away.
"Everybody listen up," boomed Rapp with Urda and General Harley at his side. "We are looking for any reference to a ship that left Karachi approximately three weeks ago. We think the ship may have been headed for Charleston, South Carolina, due to arrive sometime today."
As Rapp looked out across the silent faces, he saw one of Urda's people sifting quickly through a stack of documents. There was something about the manner in which the man searched the pile that suggested he knew what he was looking for. Rapp's eyes zeroed in on him. He stopped once and licked his fingers. He quickly flipped over several more pages and then looked up triumphantly.
"I've got it right here." He pulled a sheaf of documents from the stack and shook them in the air.
Both Rapp and Urda lunged forward to look at the documents. They were in Urdu, so Rapp understood nothing other than the wordsKarachi andCharleston. The analyst translated the rest of the information. The ship was a Liberian container vessel of no great value or significance.
Rapp asked the analyst, "Is this a bill of lading?"
"Yes."
"Is this the only one you remember finding?"
"No." The black-bearded man shook his head, and patted the stack of documents before him. "These are all bills of lading. This one," he shook the prized document in the air, "is the only one I remember originating from Karachi with a destination of Charleston."
"Are there any others that left Karachi approximately three weeks ago?" The smile was now gone from Rapp's face.
"Yes." The man nodded vehemently "Practically the entire stack."
Rapp's jaw clenched. He was once again wondering if Abdullah had lied to him. "How many bills are there, and how many left Karachi three weeks ago?"
The analyst looked down and consulted his notes. "There are seventeen separate bills of lading, with the majority of them leaving from Karachi. Four of those left approximately three weeks ago, and all four are headed for the United States."
"When are they due to arrive?" Rapp asked tensely.
The analyst shook the document he'd already pulled. "This one in Charleston today." He set it down on the table, and began rifling through the stack until he found another one. "This one bound for New York is also due to arrive today, and this one bound for Miami is due to arrive today as well." He shuffled through a few more pages and said, "And this one is due to arrive in Baltimore today."
Rapp began thinking of which finger he would cut off first. "Are there any bills for airfreight?"
