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Authors: Richard A. Clarke
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admiral said as he reached for the tray of cookies.
“Well, sir, as you know, I served here as a station officer during Desert Storm, then Baghdad after the Second Gulf War, now back here as SIS station chief for Bahrain, Qatar, Oman, and the United Arab Emirates. I’m completing twelve years in the Gulf, ’fraid to say.” Douglas tried to sound modest.
“You must like it here in Bahrain.” Captain Hardy dunked a ladyfinger in his mug.
The admiral jumped in. “Lots of people do. “Hell, I wouldn’t be an admiral without Bahrain. They came up with the word amir, meaning the guy in charge of the dhows. Shit, they were sailing dhows to Africa and India when we Anglo-Saxons were still painting ourselves blue and fighting the Romans.” He turned to Douglas for affirmation.
“I think it may have been my people, the Picts, who painted themselves blue, but yes, this is a very ancient, well-fought-over piece of turf. Which is why I wanted to see you, sir,” the station chief said, trying to get the conversation back on track.
“Yes, Brian, you’re not here to discuss history. What’s up?” Adams sat back in the chair at the head of the table and focused on his guest.
“I’ve already been on to your embassy and told my brethren from the Agency, but I wanted to pass it directly to you as well.” Brian Douglas withdrew a paper from inside his suit coat and read, “ ‘Highly reliable SIS sources have revealed that the Iranian Qods Force has designated ASU-Bahrain as a target for a terrorist-style attack, probably within the next four weeks. The sources also reveal that Iran may be planning to stimulate a Shi’a uprising in Bahrain, as it attempted to do in 1996 and 2001.’ ” Douglas passed the paper to Captain Hardy, thinking of how successful his monitoring of Ahmed Rashid had been.
“Interesting. You’re the second group to tell me today that my little base here will be the target for an attack. That’s why we are on a high force protection status, Threatcon Charlie. Of course, I did that myself after the Diplomat and Crowne Plaza attacks.” Admiral Adams took the report from his intelligence officer. “But the Pentagon seems to think the attack will be carried out by agents of Islamyah.”
The British spy coughed and sipped the heavily milk-laden coffee. “With all due respect to the Pentagon, the import of our report is that Tehran may be intending that you believe the attack comes from Riyadh. But Riyadh? Their lot couldn’t stage a successful attack on the ASU. Al Qods is capable of it. Moreover, and this is not in what we gave Washington or the Agency here, we have reason to believe that Islamyah knows that the Iranians are setting them up to get the blame.”
“Well, whoever it is, they will have a hard time. This place is buttoned up tight, Admiral,” the N-2 asserted.
“Maybe, Johnny, maybe, but any place can be struck. I can step up protection, but the way to handle this is to get them before they get us.” The admiral leaned across the table toward Douglas. “Can the Bahrainis do that? Can you and the Agency find these guys, whoever they are?”
“The Bahraini Security Service is very good, SIS-trained.” Douglas smiled. “And we and the Agency each have our own sources as well. If we can find the attack team, the Bahrainis can wipe them up.”
“I also have SEALs and a Fleet Anti-Terrorism Security Team here if they need any help.” Brad Adams got up out of his chair. “They prefer the offense to sniffing around diplomats’ Jags.” Brian laughed; Adams had done his homework. As they walked to the door, Adams changed his tone and style. He said softly to Douglas, “We can’t have another Baghdad here. I can’t stand the thought of more U.S. troops KIA. I wasn’t in Iraq as long as you, but you remember those nights out at the HTV, drinking away our sorrows with the Agency guys and the Special Forces. I was there two years, working the Sunni insurgency, trying to
“Well, sir, as you know, I served here as a station officer during Desert Storm, then Baghdad after the Second Gulf War, now back here as SIS station chief for Bahrain, Qatar, Oman, and the United Arab Emirates. I’m completing twelve years in the Gulf, ’fraid to say.” Douglas tried to sound modest.
“You must like it here in Bahrain.” Captain Hardy dunked a ladyfinger in his mug.
The admiral jumped in. “Lots of people do. “Hell, I wouldn’t be an admiral without Bahrain. They came up with the word amir, meaning the guy in charge of the dhows. Shit, they were sailing dhows to Africa and India when we Anglo-Saxons were still painting ourselves blue and fighting the Romans.” He turned to Douglas for affirmation.
“I think it may have been my people, the Picts, who painted themselves blue, but yes, this is a very ancient, well-fought-over piece of turf. Which is why I wanted to see you, sir,” the station chief said, trying to get the conversation back on track.
“Yes, Brian, you’re not here to discuss history. What’s up?” Adams sat back in the chair at the head of the table and focused on his guest.
“I’ve already been on to your embassy and told my brethren from the Agency, but I wanted to pass it directly to you as well.” Brian Douglas withdrew a paper from inside his suit coat and read, “ ‘Highly reliable SIS sources have revealed that the Iranian Qods Force has designated ASU-Bahrain as a target for a terrorist-style attack, probably within the next four weeks. The sources also reveal that Iran may be planning to stimulate a Shi’a uprising in Bahrain, as it attempted to do in 1996 and 2001.’ ” Douglas passed the paper to Captain Hardy, thinking of how successful his monitoring of Ahmed Rashid had been.
“Interesting. You’re the second group to tell me today that my little base here will be the target for an attack. That’s why we are on a high force protection status, Threatcon Charlie. Of course, I did that myself after the Diplomat and Crowne Plaza attacks.” Admiral Adams took the report from his intelligence officer. “But the Pentagon seems to think the attack will be carried out by agents of Islamyah.”
The British spy coughed and sipped the heavily milk-laden coffee. “With all due respect to the Pentagon, the import of our report is that Tehran may be intending that you believe the attack comes from Riyadh. But Riyadh? Their lot couldn’t stage a successful attack on the ASU. Al Qods is capable of it. Moreover, and this is not in what we gave Washington or the Agency here, we have reason to believe that Islamyah knows that the Iranians are setting them up to get the blame.”
“Well, whoever it is, they will have a hard time. This place is buttoned up tight, Admiral,” the N-2 asserted.
“Maybe, Johnny, maybe, but any place can be struck. I can step up protection, but the way to handle this is to get them before they get us.” The admiral leaned across the table toward Douglas. “Can the Bahrainis do that? Can you and the Agency find these guys, whoever they are?”
“The Bahraini Security Service is very good, SIS-trained.” Douglas smiled. “And we and the Agency each have our own sources as well. If we can find the attack team, the Bahrainis can wipe them up.”
“I also have SEALs and a Fleet Anti-Terrorism Security Team here if they need any help.” Brad Adams got up out of his chair. “They prefer the offense to sniffing around diplomats’ Jags.” Brian laughed; Adams had done his homework. As they walked to the door, Adams changed his tone and style. He said softly to Douglas, “We can’t have another Baghdad here. I can’t stand the thought of more U.S. troops KIA. I wasn’t in Iraq as long as you, but you remember those nights out at the HTV, drinking away our sorrows with the Agency guys and the Special Forces. I was there two years, working the Sunni insurgency, trying to
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