Foreign Influence

“Did he mention Piccadilly?”

“Yes.”

Harvath couldn’t believe it. “Do we have any idea where Rafiq may be?”

“We think the cell is operating out of a mosque four blocks from here. The police are assembling their tactical teams now.”

“Did he mention what kind of attack they had pla

Ashford shook his head. “No.”

“How well do you trust this source?”

“I don’t know him. He’s run by the Yard. They say he has always produced good intelligence for them in the past. But it’s never been on this kind of scale before.”

“How long have you been watching the interrogation?”

“Since they brought him in. I think he’s genuinely worried about his brother.”

Harvath was ru

“Or they may have wooed him back. An already-recorded martyrdom video can be a very successful tool for cultural blackmail. They also may have threatened his family. We don’t know and frankly, I don’t care. I just want to stop this attack.”

“So do I.”

“Good, because as soon as we have our ducks in a row, we’ll launch the teams.”

Harvath pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He watched the two cops continue their interrogation. “Do we know if their attacks were going to use explosives?”

“That’s been confirmed, but it appears to be the limit of what Saud was able to glean from his brother.”

“When you say operating out of the mosque, what do you mean?”

“We think they’re headquartered there,” said Ashford.

“Do you think they’re building the bombs there too?”

“It’s happened before. These people are smart. They know we’ll raid a mosque, but only as a last resort and only if we really have to. The PR fallout in their community is terrible. The PC moonbats everywhere else also go crazy.”

“Makes you wonder whose side they are all really on.”

“I know,” said Ashford. “What’s more, from a strategic standpoint, if the bombers have a willing imam, they’re probably better protected in a mosque than in a house or an apartment.”

“And if that is what’s happening, you know the imam will claim he knew nothing about it.”

“They’re always shocked to learn what was going on right beneath their noses.”

Harvath took a sip of his coffee. “If today’s the day the attack happens, they’re going to be on edge.”

“They probably have been up all night praying and getting ready. Hopefully, they’ll be sluggish when the entry teams hit the mosque.”

“What if they’re not? What if they’re prepared for the teams?”

“We have the element of surprise on our side,” the MI5 man replied. “What’s the motto Peaches was always so fond of? Speed, surprise, and violence of action?”

Harvath nodded. “But what if they’re buttoned down?”

“Meaning they have their fingers on the proverbial switch?”

“Exactly. What happens if your teams kick the doors in and they detonate their packages?”

“That’s one of the reasons they call it a high-risk entry. These teams have gone after bombers before. They know what’s at stake.”

“With all due respect, they don’t know what’s at stake,” said Harvath. “This isn’t just about Piccadilly; one cell and one attack. This is about an entire terrorist network. We need these guys alive.”

“What do you suggest then? Should we knock on the door and ask Mother, may we come in?”

Harvath brushed aside the man’s sarcasm. “What information do you have about the mosque?”

Ashford rolled his chair back and withdrew a file folder from his briefcase and slid it across.

It was a general briefing and contained only a couple of pages. Harvath skimmed it until he found what he was looking for. “What if we could get operators inside?”

“That sort of thing takes time; a commodity we have precious little of right now.”

“It says in here that Scotland Yard has a confidential source unaffiliated with the Wadi family who attends this mosque.”

Ashford nodded. “They’ve already dispatched a team to collect him. He’s going to provide us with detail as to the layout.”

“What if he can also walk a small team of operators inside?”

“Even if we had enough ethnic operators who could fit the bill, if Saud is correct about what is going on in that mosque, there’s no way they would allow a bunch of strange men in. Not today.”

Harvath looked at him and replied, “Who said anything about men?”

CHAPTER 45

By the time Casey, Rhodes, Cooper, Ericsson, and Rodriguez arrived at the plumbing supply warehouse, two of the British tactical teams were already on site.

Harvath had informed them that the Athena Team would be coming in with most of their own gear, but as a courtesy, they had set up a table with an assortment of items they thought the women might need. Once again, Harvath was reminded of how professional the Brits were and how much he enjoyed working with them. They were truly one of America’s best partners in the war on terror.

The ladies stepped out of another nondescript van, each carrying a duffel bag and a large black Storm case. The only explanation Ashford and the tac team leaders had been given was that the women were part of a highly trained, U.S. covert operations team. Neither Delta nor the Department of Defense was mentioned. Harvath introduced them to the women and after checking out the equipment table the group walked back to the small conference room.

In addition to coffee, bottled water and food had been brought in. The women helped themselves and then sat down and waited for the briefing to begin.

Moments later, a gray-haired woman in her early sixties strode in and took over the meeting. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “My name is Rita Marx. I’m a detective with Scotland Yard’s SO15, or for the benefit of our American friends in the room, the Counter-Terrorism Command.

“The mosques of East London in general and the Darul Uloom Mosque in particular fall under my jurisdiction. The man you will soon meet, Yusuf al-Fihri, has been a Scotland Yard asset for the last two years and has been attending the Darul Uloom for the last four.

“Mr. al-Fihri hasn’t been told what will be taking place this morning, though I suspect he has a fairly good idea. Nevertheless, he has agreed to help get the team into the mosque. For that we owe him our thanks and the commitment to do everything we can to keep him safe. Is that clear?”

Casey and company nodded.

“Good,” said Marx, who nodded to a detective standing next to her. “As we have never conducted formal surveillance on the Darul Uloom, our information on it is rather incomplete. Jackets are being handed to you now with the pertinent information.

“Mr. al-Fihri will be accompanying you to morning prayers and presenting you as female relatives. Once you have secured entry to the mosque, you will go to the section reserved for women and children. This next point is very important, so please listen closely. Neither the Metropolitan Police, MI5, nor the British government want any casualties.”

Ashford cleared his throat to get the woman’s attention. “I believe we’re willing to tolerate certain casualties.”

Marx grasped what he was implying. “These bastards like to hide behind women and children,” she said with a smile. “Let’s make sure they don’t get that chance.

“Now, before I bring in Mr. al-Fihri, I want to introduce you to Mr. Saud Wadi. He is also familiar with this mosque and will help give you a feel for its general layout. Mr. Wadi is our source that provided the mosque intelligence and he is also the gentleman whose brother was a member of this cell before he went missing. If Rafiq Wadi is inside the mosque and you are able to facilitate his release, we’d like you to help extricate him.”