truth. Ferris had no idea what Hoffman was talking about.
"Play it. Influence it. Make use of it."
"Sorry. But if it means screwing Hani, I'm against it."
Hoffman smiled. "Touching sympathy for your liaison brother. But you'll see. We can steer your pal Hani by controlling the information he gets, so he sees what we want him to see. Simple! Actually, it's not simple, it's pretty goddamn complicated. But the idea is simple. Believe me, he'll thank us for it when it's over."
"But Hani owns the agent. He can target him however he wants. And we don't have diddly."
"There's where you're wrong, junior. We have more than you think. I'm going to tell you a secret. You probably know it anyway, but you're not supposed to. The fact is that since September 11 we have captured a whole lot more Al Qaeda members than you realize. We have done all sorts of unpleasant things to get them to talk, which everyone is indignant about, but fuck them. And by the way, thanks very much to your wife for helping write the cover-our-ass memo. She is still your wife, right?"
"Yes, I guess so. We're sort of separated. By the distance."
"Whatever. The point is that we have a lot of information. We know which of these little bastards hates the other. We know who's paying off whom, and who thinks he got a raw deal in the payments, who's screwing who else's 'temporary wife.' We know where the rivalries are, where to plant the seeds of doubt. We have invisible strings on these guys, because we know so much about them--and because they don't understand how much we know. See, they don't even know who's been captured. They don't know if Abdul-Rahman from Abu Dhabi has been captured, or quit, or taken a better offer, or just decided to jerk off full time. They keep getting e-mail messages from people they think maybe we've busted, but they don't know. That's the thing. Which allows us certain opportunities for deception. Oops. I said it. We have never been very good at that fancy-dan stuff, but you know what? We're getting better. And with the help of our Jordanian friends, we're going to get better still. And it's going to take us to you know who."
"Suleiman?"
"Amen, brother. This is your case. You have a leg full of shrapnel to prove it. Hani is chasing the same thing you are. We're just going to give him a little help."
Ferris was silent for a moment, thinking about what Hoffman had said. Beyond all the razzle-dazzle, he was proposing that they deceive Hani. That sounded like a bad idea.
"You're the boss," he said. "But if you're planning to play games with Hani, my advice is don't. We need our friends now. After Rotterdam, Milan, the next Milan. Jerking Hani's chain sounds like a mistake to me. In this part of the world, you have to trust people or you don't get anywhere."
"Wrong. In this part of the world, you can't trust anybody, because they're all liars. Even Brother Hani. Sorry, but that's a fact. I have been in the Camel Corps a hell of a lot longer than you have. And you're right. I am the boss."
Ferris shook his head with resignation. "He'll be pissed if he finds out. And I'll have to take the flak. Until he throws me out. The way he did my predecessor."
"Well, obviously he would be pissed, if he knew. But he's not going to find out. Because we won't tell him, will we? America is paying the freight here, so it seems to me we can do what we like. And please. You are not Francis Alderson."
Ferris had wanted to ask the question for several months and had never had a chance, until now. "Why did the Jordanians PNG Francis? Nobody has ever explained that to me. There's nothing in the files, and nobody back at NE Division will tell me anything. What did he do?"
"Um, um, um..." Hoffman closed his eyes and thought a moment. "I'm not going to tell you. For your own good."
"Why? What did he do? Screw somebody's wife?"
"Hell, no. Everybody in Jordan does that. I wish it were that simple."
"So what is it?"
"Ask Hani."
"He won't tell me."
Hoffman
"Play it. Influence it. Make use of it."
"Sorry. But if it means screwing Hani, I'm against it."
Hoffman smiled. "Touching sympathy for your liaison brother. But you'll see. We can steer your pal Hani by controlling the information he gets, so he sees what we want him to see. Simple! Actually, it's not simple, it's pretty goddamn complicated. But the idea is simple. Believe me, he'll thank us for it when it's over."
"But Hani owns the agent. He can target him however he wants. And we don't have diddly."
"There's where you're wrong, junior. We have more than you think. I'm going to tell you a secret. You probably know it anyway, but you're not supposed to. The fact is that since September 11 we have captured a whole lot more Al Qaeda members than you realize. We have done all sorts of unpleasant things to get them to talk, which everyone is indignant about, but fuck them. And by the way, thanks very much to your wife for helping write the cover-our-ass memo. She is still your wife, right?"
"Yes, I guess so. We're sort of separated. By the distance."
"Whatever. The point is that we have a lot of information. We know which of these little bastards hates the other. We know who's paying off whom, and who thinks he got a raw deal in the payments, who's screwing who else's 'temporary wife.' We know where the rivalries are, where to plant the seeds of doubt. We have invisible strings on these guys, because we know so much about them--and because they don't understand how much we know. See, they don't even know who's been captured. They don't know if Abdul-Rahman from Abu Dhabi has been captured, or quit, or taken a better offer, or just decided to jerk off full time. They keep getting e-mail messages from people they think maybe we've busted, but they don't know. That's the thing. Which allows us certain opportunities for deception. Oops. I said it. We have never been very good at that fancy-dan stuff, but you know what? We're getting better. And with the help of our Jordanian friends, we're going to get better still. And it's going to take us to you know who."
"Suleiman?"
"Amen, brother. This is your case. You have a leg full of shrapnel to prove it. Hani is chasing the same thing you are. We're just going to give him a little help."
Ferris was silent for a moment, thinking about what Hoffman had said. Beyond all the razzle-dazzle, he was proposing that they deceive Hani. That sounded like a bad idea.
"You're the boss," he said. "But if you're planning to play games with Hani, my advice is don't. We need our friends now. After Rotterdam, Milan, the next Milan. Jerking Hani's chain sounds like a mistake to me. In this part of the world, you have to trust people or you don't get anywhere."
"Wrong. In this part of the world, you can't trust anybody, because they're all liars. Even Brother Hani. Sorry, but that's a fact. I have been in the Camel Corps a hell of a lot longer than you have. And you're right. I am the boss."
Ferris shook his head with resignation. "He'll be pissed if he finds out. And I'll have to take the flak. Until he throws me out. The way he did my predecessor."
"Well, obviously he would be pissed, if he knew. But he's not going to find out. Because we won't tell him, will we? America is paying the freight here, so it seems to me we can do what we like. And please. You are not Francis Alderson."
Ferris had wanted to ask the question for several months and had never had a chance, until now. "Why did the Jordanians PNG Francis? Nobody has ever explained that to me. There's nothing in the files, and nobody back at NE Division will tell me anything. What did he do?"
"Um, um, um..." Hoffman closed his eyes and thought a moment. "I'm not going to tell you. For your own good."
"Why? What did he do? Screw somebody's wife?"
"Hell, no. Everybody in Jordan does that. I wish it were that simple."
"So what is it?"
"Ask Hani."
"He won't tell me."
Hoffman
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