been detained for questioning?" someone asked.
"We considered that, but thought it better to let her run in the hope that she would lead us to Caliph. We spot her occasionally. She's not very well trained."
Spector said, "Occasionally? This implies we're not monitoring her continuously."
Graham showed her first sign of discomfort. Her voice went down an octave. "We give Adara a rather long surveillance leash -- as I said, hoping that she'll lead us to Caliph. We've lost track of her a few times. But she always turns up again."
General Banks gestured to the screen. "You lost track of that?"
Graham ignored the comment. "She was last seen in Jordan two weeks ago. However, one of our analysts recently made a startling connection. As you all know, we've been trying for some time to track flows of money from the sovereign wealth funds of certain oil-rich states. As petrodollars accumulate, the controllers of these funds are diversifying their holdings into a great number of businesses and investments. They are building companies, universities, even entire cities from scratch."
"Not such a bad idea, if you ask me," said Spector. "Sooner or later the oil wells are going to run dry."
"Yes," Graham agreed. "But we suspect that some of this largesse is being funneled to terrorist groups. And in the course of our watch, we found this--" Graham put one more photo on the screen.
"It's her!" the president said.
The image was high quality, and there was no mistaking Fatima Adara. She was sitting at a table at an outdoor cafe. With her was a middle-aged man -- thin hair, pale skin, high Slavic cheekbones.
Someone blurted the obvious question. "Who is he?"
"His name," Graham said, "is Luca Medved. He was actually the target of the surveillance. It was taken two months ago in Marseille, France."
"She was in France?" Spector remarked.
"Yes. It's the first time we've spotted her outside the Middle East."
The president cut in. "So why were you watching this guy Medved? Is he some kind of terrorist?"
"Actually, anything but. I told you we were tracking companies created with oil wealth. Luca Medved is a Russian national. And, among other things, he is the current chairman of the board of CargoAir, the new aircraft manufacturer based in France."
"The chairman of CargoAir?" the president said, clearly taken aback. "He's got an association with Caliph?"
"That's not clear yet," Graham said. "We're trying to find out."
General Banks asked, "Wasn't it a CargoAir airplane that crashed recently?"
"Yes," Graham said, "one went down in France two days ago." She quickly headed off the next question. "Right away we considered a link between this crash and the cache of explosives found by the Dutch authorities. Our experts in that kind of thing don't see any connection -- the evidence found in the Netherlands was not what anybody would use against an airliner. You'd never get it past airport security, even as cargo. And early evidence from the crash points away from any type of terrorist involvement."
President Townsend looked at his watch. He had the Indian prime minister in fifteen minutes. Central Asia was a whole new set of troubles-- Tibet, Pakistan, free-trade agreements. "All right," he said, sensing Graham was at an end. "Suggestions?"
The CIA director said, "We have to put the word out all over the Middle East and Europe to find Fatima Adara."
The nods of agreement were unanimous.
Graham added, "And once we find her, we can't lose her."
Townsend took this as a measure of self-critique, one of the things he had grown to like about this DNI he'd inherited from the previous administration. "All right," the president said, "see to it."
"What about this link with CargoAir?" Spector asked. "Shouldn't we be watching it?"
President Townsend nodded thoughtfully and looked at Graham. He said, "Someone to take a look at the company? Maybe follow this crash investigation?"
Graham smiled, "I'll take care of it, Mr. President."
Townsend
"We considered that, but thought it better to let her run in the hope that she would lead us to Caliph. We spot her occasionally. She's not very well trained."
Spector said, "Occasionally? This implies we're not monitoring her continuously."
Graham showed her first sign of discomfort. Her voice went down an octave. "We give Adara a rather long surveillance leash -- as I said, hoping that she'll lead us to Caliph. We've lost track of her a few times. But she always turns up again."
General Banks gestured to the screen. "You lost track of that?"
Graham ignored the comment. "She was last seen in Jordan two weeks ago. However, one of our analysts recently made a startling connection. As you all know, we've been trying for some time to track flows of money from the sovereign wealth funds of certain oil-rich states. As petrodollars accumulate, the controllers of these funds are diversifying their holdings into a great number of businesses and investments. They are building companies, universities, even entire cities from scratch."
"Not such a bad idea, if you ask me," said Spector. "Sooner or later the oil wells are going to run dry."
"Yes," Graham agreed. "But we suspect that some of this largesse is being funneled to terrorist groups. And in the course of our watch, we found this--" Graham put one more photo on the screen.
"It's her!" the president said.
The image was high quality, and there was no mistaking Fatima Adara. She was sitting at a table at an outdoor cafe. With her was a middle-aged man -- thin hair, pale skin, high Slavic cheekbones.
Someone blurted the obvious question. "Who is he?"
"His name," Graham said, "is Luca Medved. He was actually the target of the surveillance. It was taken two months ago in Marseille, France."
"She was in France?" Spector remarked.
"Yes. It's the first time we've spotted her outside the Middle East."
The president cut in. "So why were you watching this guy Medved? Is he some kind of terrorist?"
"Actually, anything but. I told you we were tracking companies created with oil wealth. Luca Medved is a Russian national. And, among other things, he is the current chairman of the board of CargoAir, the new aircraft manufacturer based in France."
"The chairman of CargoAir?" the president said, clearly taken aback. "He's got an association with Caliph?"
"That's not clear yet," Graham said. "We're trying to find out."
General Banks asked, "Wasn't it a CargoAir airplane that crashed recently?"
"Yes," Graham said, "one went down in France two days ago." She quickly headed off the next question. "Right away we considered a link between this crash and the cache of explosives found by the Dutch authorities. Our experts in that kind of thing don't see any connection -- the evidence found in the Netherlands was not what anybody would use against an airliner. You'd never get it past airport security, even as cargo. And early evidence from the crash points away from any type of terrorist involvement."
President Townsend looked at his watch. He had the Indian prime minister in fifteen minutes. Central Asia was a whole new set of troubles-- Tibet, Pakistan, free-trade agreements. "All right," he said, sensing Graham was at an end. "Suggestions?"
The CIA director said, "We have to put the word out all over the Middle East and Europe to find Fatima Adara."
The nods of agreement were unanimous.
Graham added, "And once we find her, we can't lose her."
Townsend took this as a measure of self-critique, one of the things he had grown to like about this DNI he'd inherited from the previous administration. "All right," the president said, "see to it."
"What about this link with CargoAir?" Spector asked. "Shouldn't we be watching it?"
President Townsend nodded thoughtfully and looked at Graham. He said, "Someone to take a look at the company? Maybe follow this crash investigation?"
Graham smiled, "I'll take care of it, Mr. President."
Townsend
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