chapter 10
NASH entered the interrogation room and set a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a lighter on the table. The cigarettes had started out as a device; something for him to do during the long pauses that inevitably punctuated the interrogation sessions. Many of the prisoners eventually partook, and it helped build a sense of fellowship that Nash was more than happy to exploit. Unfortunately, it was now much more than a device. After six years, he was using them on a daily basis, sneaking one or two, here and there. His wife had caught on and wasn't happy - both for his health and for the message it might send their teenage daughter should she find out. He tried his best to limit his smoking to these overseas jaunts, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to separate his job from his personal life. The stress, he had to admit, was getting to him.
Nash picked up the pack and offered a cigarette to al-Haq. The Afghani took one eagerly. Nash held the flame a foot in front of the terrorist. Al-Haq hesitated and then leaned forward. Little things mattered in these sessions. Getting a man to take a cigarette was good but getting him to lean across the table and meet you halfway was even better. Nash lit his own cigarette, sat back, crossed his legs, and exhaled a big cloud of smoke.
"I would like to make a deal," al-Haq said in a businesslike tone.
Nash hid his surprise - studied him for a few seconds. Thought to himself, This one is different. In all the time I've been doing this, not one of them has started the conversation, much less announced that they were ready to deal. "Let's hear it."
"I have information... very valuable information that I think your government would be willing to pay for."
"Pay for?" Nash said in a voice that lacked any emotion even though he was fighting to suppress his excitement.
"Yes."
"What makes you think they would be willing to pay for it?"
"I think considering the political climate in your country it would be much easier to make a business deal with me."
They study us more than we think, Nash thought. Al-Haq was right about the leaders in Washington, but Nash wasn't willing to admit it. At least not yet. Instead he said, "Why would I give you cash when I can have General Dostum squeeze the information out of you?"
Al-Haq took a pull off his cigarette and answered, "For many reasons, but most importantly, the information I have for you is very time-sensitive. If I am forced to endure the humiliation and pain that will no doubt be employed by the general, I am likely to be less than forthright. Eventually, you will get most of what you want, but it might be too late."
"And why should I believe you?" Nash watched as al-Haq considered the question. He got the sense that the man was contemplating how much he should divulge.
"You picked up a cell in Mauretania seven weeks ago."
Nash's face gave away nothing. They had in fact intercepted an al-Qaeda cell in Mauretania with the help of the French. It had been kept very quiet. Not a single mention of it had been reported in the press. Most of the men had been thoroughly debriefed, but there were a few holdouts, including the cell's leader. Nash looked al-Haq calmly in the eye and said, "Go on."
"There was a second cell."
Nash nodded.
"Intercepted in Hong Kong. We think by the British."
Nash was intimately familiar with the incident. It was in fact the British who had picked up the group. He'd spent the week before last in London being briefed by his counterpart at MI6. The cell was composed mostly of Pakistanis who spoke very good English. "I am familiar with the situation."
"Well, there is a third group."
"I'm listening," Nash said calmly, even though he wasn't calm. His worst fears were being confirmed.
"I need assurances."
"We can work that out."
Al-Haq exhaled a cloud of smoke and laughed. "I am going to need more than the word of a professional spy."
"What would satisfy you?"
"I have a lawyer in Bern. I will need a letter from your president guaranteeing me the following..."
Before he could list his demands, Nash cut him off. "That's not going to happen. There is no way the president is going to get anywhere near something that even remotely makes him look like he is negotiating with a terrorist."
"The letter will only be used if you fail to follow through on your part of the bargain."
"It's a nonstarter, Mohammad."
Al-Haq ignored him. "There is a two-million-dollar reward for my arrest. I want that money for turning myself in, and I want a new identity. If we can agree on that, and a few more things, I will cooperate fully with you. I will tell you everything I know, but you must report..." His voice faded.
"Report what?"
"That I am dead."
Nash understood immediately. He wanted to protect his family. Nash stuffed his cigarette in his mouth to hide his deep satisfaction. He was staring at what amounted to their first high-level defection. This could be huge, he thought to himself. Nash leaned forward and pointed his cigarette at al-Haq. "Mohammad, I think I can make this work, but the agreement will have to be between the director of the CIA and you. If I get any politicians involved, they'll screw it up."
Al-Haq thought about it for a long moment and in a voice filled with doubt and anxiety said, "I need assurances."
"I will get you assurances. I know I can get you the money, but this is the type of thing that has to be handled in the dark. There is no other way."
Al-Haq didn't like what he was hearing. He had no faith in this man or the organization he represented. He shook his head, his face showing his discomfort.
"Mohammad, if you want to go public, there's a way I can sell this," Nash said in a reasonable tone. "The president would love nothing more than to announce that you've defected. Have you stand up in front of the cameras and repudiate al-Qaeda and the Taliban, but if you do that your family is going to be slaughtered."
The words hit al-Haq like a knife in the side. After a moment he said, "I do not want that."
"Then the only option is to do this in the dark. In fact we might even want to announce that you've been killed."
"That would be very convenient for you."
"I think it is a mutually beneficial solution."
"But can I trust you?"
"You'd better."
"Why?"
"Because if you don't, I'm going to be forced to turn you over to General Dostum. I might not get the information out of you as quickly as I'd like, but ultimately, you'll give me what I want."
Al-Haq fidgeted in his chair. His eyes darted from one wall to the next and then back to Nash. "There is not much time."
"What do you mean?"
"The third cell..." Al-Haq's voice trailed off.
"What about the third cell?" Nash asked while trying to stay calm.
"No." Al-Haq stabbed his cigarette in the ashtray and put it out. "I need assurances."
Nash scrambled to think of something. "If I got the director of the CIA on the phone would it help?"
Al-Haq nodded. "What about the money?"
"We could wire the money to your attorney first thing in the morning." Nash watched him closely, could tell he was on the fence. Nash put out his own cigarette. "You're going to have to trust me, though. I'll get the director on the phone, but you are going to have to give me more than just the fact that there is a third cell."
"I know the man who is leading the cell. I know several others in the group. I know where they have been training, and what American city they will attack, and when they will strike." Al-Haq folded his arms and looked across the table with confidence.
"What city?"
"I will tell you when I have my deal."
"All right," Nash said as he stood. "Give me a few minutes to get the director on the phone." Nash could feel his heart racing. This could be big, but it would have to be handled with great care. There were too many factions in Washington. Too many people who would be more than happy to screw it up.