Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(78)
‘Can’t we even offer them money?’ suggested the First Lady, wringing her hands in desperation.
‘We could try via an intermediary, but that’s not what they’re seeking,’ said Karen.
‘Karen’s right,’ concurred Dirk. ‘If it was only money the terrorists wanted, they’d have selected an easier, less prominent target.’
‘Surely every terrorist has a price.’ The First Lady looked hopefully round the table for agreement.
Omar shook his head. ‘The Brotherhood’s motives are purely political. We’re dealing here with fanatics, willing to kill or be killed for their cause.’
The harsh reality of the lengths the terrorists would go to numbed the First Lady into silence.
George stepped in. ‘Then we have to open a dialogue with this group and stall for time to allow our forces the best chance to trace their hideout. As our initial response, we could ask for the names of the prisoners the terrorists want released and what proof they need.’
There was some consensus round the conference table at this.
‘Perhaps even release some of them in return for Connor,’ he continued. ‘The handover might give us vital information on Alicia’s location.’
‘That’s too steep a price to pay,’ argued General Shaw. ‘We’re talking about men directly responsible for 9/11 and hundreds of dangerous terrorists that our forces have sacrificed their lives to capture. We simply can’t contemplate freeing them to wreak more devastation on our nation.’
‘As much as I want Connor back, I agree with the general,’ said Colonel Black. ‘And, given their meticulous planning, they’ll avoid any links to their hideout in such a handover.’
‘But when this goes public the pressure from the media and the American people to get Alicia back will be overwhelming,’ noted the press secretary. ‘We might have no choice but to negotiate.’
‘Absolutely not!’ countered Jennifer. ‘If we bow to one terrorist organization, we’ll open the floodgates and never be able to close them again. We can’t allow terrorism to dictate our foreign policy.’
‘You’re right, Jennifer,’ sighed President Mendez. ‘Besides, it’s inconceivable to withdraw our troops from the Middle East. The delicate balance of nations would likely crumble into a full-blown war.’
‘So, you’re just going to sacrifice our daughter?’ said the First Lady, staring at her husband in disbelief.
‘No. We’ll find another way to get her back.’ He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. ‘I promise you.’
Colonel Black glanced up at the clock on the wall and coughed for attention. ‘Then we’ve got less than seventy-two hours to find them.’
‘Connor’s in serious trouble,’ said Amir, staring in disbelief at the overhead flatscreen monitor in the Buddyguard operations room. Colonel Black had forwarded the ransom video via a secure satellite link and Alpha team had viewed it in shocked silence. Charley, Marc and Ling all wore the same distraught expressions, struggling to come to terms with Connor’s dire situation.
‘Let’s just pray the terrorists don’t discover who he really is,’ remarked Bugsy, scrunching up his last packet of chewing gum in frustrated anger and tossing it in the bin.
‘Why? What difference would that make?’ asked Ling.
‘He’d become a threat to them,’ explained their surveillance tutor, his tone grave. ‘It’s rare for a bodyguard to be kidnapped alongside their Principal. They’re normally killed straight away.’
Amir exchanged an uneasy look with Charley.
‘Then we had better find them fast,’ said Charley, wheeling herself over to her workstation. ‘Bugsy, how can we trace the source of the email?’
The tutor pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘You can try stripping the header info for the original sender’s IP address, then run a reverse DNS lookup,’ he suggested. ‘There’s a geo-location tool on our system that’ll track down the ISP and provide us with a geographical area that the IP is believed to be used in.’
‘You don’t seem very certain,’ remarked Ling as Charley hammered away on her keyboard.
‘Such a trail can be easily spoofed,’ admitted Bugsy. ‘The IP address might be that of an innocent person or organization who’s had it hijacked by the terrorists. And I’ve no doubt they’ve used a server relay to bounce the signal around the world.’
‘You’re right,’ said Charley, slumping back in her chair. ‘The trail dead-ends at a legitimate book publishers in London.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Bugsy, hurrying over to his terminal, a sly grin detectable on his lips. ‘I do have a beta program that might be able to trace the ghost image left behind by the real server. It’ll take a bit of time, though.’
While Bugsy ran the tracer application, Charley organized the rest of the team.
‘Ling, I need you to check the CCTV camera footage around the Jefferson Memorial – before, during and after the ambush. We might pick up some clues – a face or a vehicle reg. Marc, Colonel Black says they found the dead Secret Service agent in a disused hangar near Stafford Airport. Execute a digital sweep of the surveillance satellites we have access to and find out if any were over the vicinity at the time. Amir, I’ll need your help analysing the ransom video. Scan its audio track for background noise, accents, anything that might indicate the location of the terrorist’s hideout.’