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“You must, or they will kill you.”
There was something in the way the man said “kill you” that gave Kennedy concern. It occurred to her that the most logical move by her captors would be to kill her after she read the statement. With no denial by Kennedy it would go down as fact. “I’m sorry, but I cannot read that statement.” Kennedy sat down in the chair and folded her hands across her lap.
The man moved with great speed from behind the camera. He slapped Kennedy across the face three times, knocking the hijab off her head. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. Looking down at her he yelled, “You have exactly one hour to change your mind, and if your answer is still no, I will leave you to your fate. Do you want that to happen?”
“No,” Kennedy answered.
“Twenty men!” he screamed. “They will line up to rape you for a week straight. Is that what you want?”
“No.”
“Then read the statement.” The man let go of her and handed her the piece of paper again.
Kennedy took it, looked down at the words, and thought of how the tape would be used against her country. She would be considered a traitor. She could never live with herself. Without having to think any further, she opened her hands and let the paper fall to the floor.
The man stepped away from the camera and help up a finger. “You have one hour to reconsider, and if your answer is still no, there is nothing I can do to help you.”
56
WHITE HOUSE
Ted Byrne stayed on the president’s left elbow, matching him step for step, which was not easy, considering he was almost a foot shorter. The debate had been as heated as anything Byrne had ever seen in his nearly twenty-five years of politics. He’d known Josh Alexander since he was a little tyke. Byrne had played high school football for Alexander’s father and had coached for the father after college. When Alexander looked at him with those same dead, serious eyes that his dad used to shoot him when he’d pushed an issue as far as he could, Byrne knew he’d lost the battle. It didn’t help that the majority of the National Security Council, as well as the Joint Chiefs, had sided against him.
Even so, Byrne felt so strongly that the president was making a mistake that he had to give it one more try. “Josh,” he whispered so no one else could hear, “I really think you need to sit on this one for an afternoon. Probably a whole day, but at least an afternoon.”
“Too late, Ted. They’re all up there waiting for me.”
“So give a brief statement like I said. A blanket denial. Then we can send others out to argue the details. Don’t lower yourself to the guy’s level.”
The president hit the steps that led from the basement to the first floor of the West Wing. “I’ve made up my mind.”
“I know you have and that’s why I’m trying to talk you out of it. That’s my job. When you’re about to run off a cliff, I’m supposed to stick out my foot and trip you.”
“I’m not in the mood for any jokes right now.”
“It never hurts to take a breath and collect yourself.”
“And sometimes he who hesitates gets his ass handed to him.” They reached the first-floor landing and the president stopped. A cortège of aides and advisors piled up behind him on the stairs. “If I had the time, we could sit here all afternoon and throw sayings back and forth at each other, but it comes down to this, Ted. If you don’t confront a lie, people will believe it. Now I’m done talking about this. Are you done?”
Byrne hesitated and then reluctantly nodded.
“Good.” The president turned and strode into the White House press room. Secretary Wicka and Secretary England joined him on the small dais, taking up positions behind him, one off each shoulder. The president placed both hands on the edge of the podium and looked out at the reporters and photographers. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was not happy.
“I’m about to give you a lot of information. The press secretary is preparing briefing books for you. You may pick them up when I’m finished.” The president paused for a moment and consulted an outline that he had written on a piece of paper. “I’m sure by now you’ve all had an opportunity to review President Amatullah’s remarks. I am here to openly refute his two main accusations. The first, that a United States submarine sank the Iranian vessel Sabalan, is an outright lie. The U.S.S. Virginia, a nuclear-powered submarine, was in the vicinity and tracking the Iranian submarine Yusef as it proceeded through the Strait of Hormuz earlier today. The Virginia recorded the Yusef flooding her rear torpedo tubes and firing one torpedo against the Sabalan. That torpedo hit the Sabalan and sunk it. The Virginia reported this incident immediately, and followed the Yusef through the strait and into the Persian Gulf. The Yusef is now on an intercept course with the Eisenhower strike group, as is much of the Iranian navy. I have ordered the strike group to engage and sink any Iranian vessel that attempts to close within fifteen miles of the U.S.S. Eisenhower. I repeat, if any Iranian vessel attempts to close within fifteen miles of the aircraft carrier Eisenhower it will be engaged and sunk.”
Alexander glanced down and then said, “Knowing President Amatullah’s penchant for rhetoric and obfuscation, I feel it is my duty to provide hard evidence of what I have just told you. Against the advice of the secretary of defense and the Joint Chiefs, I am going to allow representatives from Great Britain, France, Russia, and China to review the contact tapes made by the U.S.S. Virginia. These tapes will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt to any naval officer with sonar experience that it was the Yusef that fired on and sank the Sabalan. In addition, I am offering to make the U.S.S. Virginia available for immediate inspection by representatives from Great Britain, France, Russia, and China. Upon boarding the Virginia, they will find that she is still carrying her full complement of torpedoes. I challenge President Amatullah to also make the Yusef available for inspection, although I doubt you will find him so accommodating. As to why President Amatullah would order one of his submarines to sink an Iranian frigate, I have my theories, but I will leave it up to you, the press, to try and get an honest answer from him.
“Now on to the second point of contention between our two countries. CIA Director Irene Kennedy did in fact have a meeting in Mosul this morning. It was with this man.” The president nodded to one of his aides and then gestured toward the flat-panel TV that sprang to life with a head shot of a bearded man in his mid fifties. “Iran’s Minister of Intelligence. In recent years Director Kennedy and Minister Ashani have met on several occasions to share information that would help combat terrorism. I directed Dr. Kennedy to sit down with Minister Ashani and discuss the possibility of our two countries restoring limited diplomatic relations. Upon the conclusion of this meeting Minister Ashani was escorted to his helicopter and is now safely back in Iran. Director Kennedy was not so fortunate.” The president gestured to his aide yet again, and a new photo appeared.
The photo showed charred vehicles and bodies littering a street. “This is Director Kennedy’s motorcade. After parting with Minister Ashani, Director Kennedy’s motorcade made it exactly a block and a half before it was ambushed.” A new photo appeared. It was of four men lying facedown on the street. Pools of dark red blood could be seen by each man’s head. “These were members of Director Kennedy’s security detail. They all lived here in the Washington area. All of them were married, and they all had children. I spoke with each of their wives over the past hour and offered my condolences.”
The president lowered his head and consulted his notes. “Eighteen men died in the attack on this motorcade. A secondary CIA security team was nearby and fought their way to the site of the attack in time to see Director Kennedy being forced into a car and driven away. The CIA security team took three prisoners.”
The president paused and the photos of three men appeared on the screen with their names and affiliations listed. “The man on the left of the screen is Ali Abbas. He is a senior member of the terrorist organization Hezbollah and has been in Iraq recruiting and arming terrorists for more than a year. The next man is Captain Rashid Dadarshi of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps.”
Gasps and murmurs erupted from the seated reporters. Alexander stopped until he had their undivided attention. “Captain Dadarshi has admitted that he received orders from his superior officers in Tehran to participate in the kidnapping of Director Kennedy. The last man is Corporal Nouri Tahmineh, also of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. All three of these men identified the next man,” a new image appeared on the screen of a man in a suit wearing sunglasses, “as the one who ran the operation. This is Imad Mukhtar, the head of Hezbollah’s Security Services and the mastermind behind the U.S. Marine barracks bombing, the U.S. Embassy bombing in Beirut, and many others. He is also believed to be behind numerous kidnappings and assassinations committed by Hezbollah over the past three decades.”
Several photos appeared showing Mukhtar and Ashani exiting the same helicopter from different sides. “These photos were taken this morning when Minister Ashani arrived in Mosul on an Iranian Army helicopter with Imad Mukhtar. Note the briefcase in Mr. Mukhtar’s right hand.” An enlarged image of the briefcase appeared and then, next to it, a second photo of an open briefcase filled with cash. “The photo on the right is the one that President Amatull
