Read Online The Scorpion's Gate by Richard A. Clarke - Free Book Online
Authors: Richard A. Clarke
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Lebanon using the Hezbollah, the Buenos Aires bombings, all the things Mugniyah has done, merging Zawahiri’s group into al Qaeda, the covert support to bin Laden, getting the Americans to back our man and throw out Saddam, then the Baghdad government...
“But your big plan, this is much more complicated, much riskier. There are many moving parts, including now, perhaps, the Chinese.” The cleric fingered his beads.
“With respect, sir, they all know we have the nuclears.” The General rose and walked toward the fire. “They do not know how many and they do not know where. If for some reason the big plan does not go well, we are still secure. Allah will provide.”
The cleric nodded. “I believe it is our destiny to be an agent for Allah, to unite the Shiites and bring for them a golden age,” the cleric said, his enthusiasm returning. He walked toward the Qods Force commander and placed his hands on the General’s shoulders. “Yes, you are right. Allah will provide.”
3
FEBRUARY 2
U.S. Navy, Administrative Support Unit
Juffair, Bahrain
B rian Douglas drove his own car, a green Jaguar, from his beach villa out of town to the Juffair district, home to ASU Bahrain, as the American Fifth Fleet headquarters was known. The sixty-acre compound was surrounded by a high sand-colored masonry wall. A Marine in combat gear stopped the Jag and directed Douglas to pull into the vehicle inspection lane.
“Please open the hood, trunk, all four doors, and back away from the car, sir,” a female Marine with an M16 rifle said, as another Marine approached with a German shepherd. As he stood aside and watched the dog sniff its way through the Jaguar, Douglas heard a helicopter engine getting very close. A matte-gray Black Hawk flared down onto the heliport on the other side of the wall, kicking up a small sandstorm near the soccer field.
Cleared to proceed, Douglas drove to the stucco archway that was the main gate. It looked as though it had been left on some
Hollywood back lot from the set of Gunga Din. Flashing his Navyissued ID, Douglas was directed to Building 903, with its typical U.S. Navy gobbledegook signage: “HQ-COMUSNAVCENT.”
Douglas had no sooner been seated in the waiting room when a large man in a Navy flight jacket bounded into the suite and right up to Douglas. “Brian Douglas, it’s good to see you, you old bloke.” His thinning strawberry blond hair and baby face made him look like anything other than the Fifth Fleet commander.
“Come on in, Bri. Ensign, two big mugs of coffee. Just choppered in from two days on the Reagan .” The British SIS station chief followed in the admiral’s wake into the cavernous office.
“Sorry I haven’t had you over since I got in last month, but it’s been a whirlwind of get-to-know-you meetings up and down the Gulf. I’ve memorized more royal family trees in the last week than I did studying European history,” Admiral Adams continued, moving across the room. “Here, let’s sit at the conference table. You know my N-2, the intel guy here, Johnny Hardy.” The three men sat at the long staff table.
“Johnny, Brian Douglas and I first got to know each other back in twenty-oh-three in the Green Zone, chasing bad guys, when I was assigned to CENTCOM staff in Iraq. Hangin’ out together in the HVT Bar out at the airport after hours. He has more embarrassing information on me than you guys in Naval Intelligence will ever have, so whenever he says he needs to see me like he did this morning, he gets right in. I’m here for you. You’re the best ally we’ve got left, almost the only one we got left, right, Johnny?”
“Well, Admiral, I appreciate your willingness to see me on such short notice.” Douglas looked down at the giant coffee mug, to which somebody had already added a great deal of milk.
“You’ve been stationed in Bahrain for a while. Real expert on the region. How long you been here now, Brian? Tell Johnny your career,” the
“But your big plan, this is much more complicated, much riskier. There are many moving parts, including now, perhaps, the Chinese.” The cleric fingered his beads.
“With respect, sir, they all know we have the nuclears.” The General rose and walked toward the fire. “They do not know how many and they do not know where. If for some reason the big plan does not go well, we are still secure. Allah will provide.”
The cleric nodded. “I believe it is our destiny to be an agent for Allah, to unite the Shiites and bring for them a golden age,” the cleric said, his enthusiasm returning. He walked toward the Qods Force commander and placed his hands on the General’s shoulders. “Yes, you are right. Allah will provide.”
3
FEBRUARY 2
U.S. Navy, Administrative Support Unit
Juffair, Bahrain
B rian Douglas drove his own car, a green Jaguar, from his beach villa out of town to the Juffair district, home to ASU Bahrain, as the American Fifth Fleet headquarters was known. The sixty-acre compound was surrounded by a high sand-colored masonry wall. A Marine in combat gear stopped the Jag and directed Douglas to pull into the vehicle inspection lane.
“Please open the hood, trunk, all four doors, and back away from the car, sir,” a female Marine with an M16 rifle said, as another Marine approached with a German shepherd. As he stood aside and watched the dog sniff its way through the Jaguar, Douglas heard a helicopter engine getting very close. A matte-gray Black Hawk flared down onto the heliport on the other side of the wall, kicking up a small sandstorm near the soccer field.
Cleared to proceed, Douglas drove to the stucco archway that was the main gate. It looked as though it had been left on some
Hollywood back lot from the set of Gunga Din. Flashing his Navyissued ID, Douglas was directed to Building 903, with its typical U.S. Navy gobbledegook signage: “HQ-COMUSNAVCENT.”
Douglas had no sooner been seated in the waiting room when a large man in a Navy flight jacket bounded into the suite and right up to Douglas. “Brian Douglas, it’s good to see you, you old bloke.” His thinning strawberry blond hair and baby face made him look like anything other than the Fifth Fleet commander.
“Come on in, Bri. Ensign, two big mugs of coffee. Just choppered in from two days on the Reagan .” The British SIS station chief followed in the admiral’s wake into the cavernous office.
“Sorry I haven’t had you over since I got in last month, but it’s been a whirlwind of get-to-know-you meetings up and down the Gulf. I’ve memorized more royal family trees in the last week than I did studying European history,” Admiral Adams continued, moving across the room. “Here, let’s sit at the conference table. You know my N-2, the intel guy here, Johnny Hardy.” The three men sat at the long staff table.
“Johnny, Brian Douglas and I first got to know each other back in twenty-oh-three in the Green Zone, chasing bad guys, when I was assigned to CENTCOM staff in Iraq. Hangin’ out together in the HVT Bar out at the airport after hours. He has more embarrassing information on me than you guys in Naval Intelligence will ever have, so whenever he says he needs to see me like he did this morning, he gets right in. I’m here for you. You’re the best ally we’ve got left, almost the only one we got left, right, Johnny?”
“Well, Admiral, I appreciate your willingness to see me on such short notice.” Douglas looked down at the giant coffee mug, to which somebody had already added a great deal of milk.
“You’ve been stationed in Bahrain for a while. Real expert on the region. How long you been here now, Brian? Tell Johnny your career,” the
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