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Her voice dropped before she could finish the sentence, but it didn’t matter. He knew what she was going to say. After that, Kuwait, Bahrain, and the UAE w
ould fall. Oil prices would shoot through the roof and Maxim Krupin would go from clinging to power in that shithole he called a country to master of the universe.
“Irene? Are you there? Irene!”
The line was dead.
He looked out the window and saw that the men on the street were having the same problem. As more people discovered the network was back online, more people logged on. The system was overloaded and there was a good chance it would stay that way.
CHAPTER 46
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
U.S.A.
IRENE Kennedy sat motionless, lost in the split-screen image on her computer. To the left was a public webcam showing a swath of desert southeast of Riyadh. According to the Agency’s weather forecasters, the wind was blowing north at an average of almost thirty knots, with gusts exceeding fifty. Based on the disorienting swirl of dust and sand that made up the video feed, she saw no reason to doubt them.
The other side of the monitor depicted a map of Saudi Arabia’s main oil fields, with six markers spread strategically across it. Her analysts had placed them based on their best guess as to the most likely deployment of Pakistan’s missing nuclear fuel. Taking into account the amount of fissile material in ISIS’s hands, the prevailing winds, and the distribution of Saudi oil reserves, the markers depicted optimal release points. The current theory was that the radioactive material would be wrapped around six explosive charges powerful enough to blow it into the sky and prevailing winds would then irradiate the world’s most productive oil fields.
If Maxim Krupin was directing this operation—and she was increasingly convinced he was—his people would have provided him with similar data. Was he sitting in the Kremlin at that moment examining an identical map?
Her phone buzzed and her assistant’s voice came on. “I have Prince Khaled bin Abdullah on the line for you, Dr. Kennedy.”
Ten minutes late, as usual. She didn’t immediately reach for the handset, instead taking a moment to steel herself for the conversation. Abdullah was both extremely conservative in his religious beliefs and utterly incompetent. While he understood that Saudi Arabia needed the U.S. as an ally, he despised Christians in general and American Christians in particular. To make matters worse, he was misogynistic to the point that it made it difficult to have a coherent conversation with him.
Mitch had offered to quietly dispose of the man on a number of occasions, which was tempting. Unfortunately, the line of succession was full of even worse men. While Abdullah was an anti-American religious hardliner, at least he was a predictable anti-American religious hardliner.
Finally, she picked up the phone and spoke smoothly into it. “Your Highness. Thank you so much for taking the time to return my call.”
“I have a full schedule today, Dr. Kennedy. What is it you want that my assistant couldn’t provide?”
“I recently received a disturbing report about a potential threat to your country.”
“We live in a dangerous world. There’s no need to become hysterical about every report that comes across your desk.”
Kennedy smiled at the use of the word “hysterical.” While she understood the importance of keeping Saudi Arabia’s oil flowing, it was hard not to fantasize about leaving its dysfunctional royal family at the mercy of the radicals it had created.
“Of course you’re right, Your Highness. But this threat seems credible and President Alexander requested that you be informed.”
Predictably, Abdullah perked up a bit. By bringing up the president, she became just a messenger—something less offensive to his values.
“What are the president’s concerns?”
“ISIS has obtained the nuclear fuel from six warheads and it appears that they’re attempting to smuggle it into your country.”
“What?” he shouted. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“So this is something you’d like to pursue?”
“Don’t be a—” he started, but then managed to catch himself before another insult escaped. Perhaps the man wasn’t as dim as she thought.
“Do they have a way to detonate it?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.
“We think it’s unlikely.”
“A dirty bomb, then.”
“Our analysts give that scenario the highest probability.”
