The Cloud Collector by Brian Freemantle Page B

changing again the f and the t in fourth to stop us from getting a match with the letters in the following repetitions is as clever as hell.’
    â€˜Isn’t it all too clever as hell from an Arab source, throwing our own history back at us?’ queried Shab Barker, also thinking like the American he had become.
    â€˜I don’t think so,’ said Marian Lowell. ‘I’m reading it—interpreting it—as proof that it’s coming from NSA’s Iranian equivalent, which I thought we’d already agreed was the level of expertise we’re confronting.’
    â€˜Can’t we get signal coordinates from al Aswamy’s computer and cell, now that he’s turned them on!’ demanded an anxious James Bradley, on the open line from Langley. ‘I got people on standby, ready to move.’
    â€˜We’re trying to make out the coordinates, for Christ’s sake!’ snapped Irvine, encumbered by the telephone headset that left him hands-free for his computer. They were all wound tighter than springs; he didn’t care that his tension was obvious to the rest of his team.
    From the computer station from which he was monitoring the increased signals, Singleton said, ‘I’m worried al Aswamy’s deflecting attention from however they’re moving to a target elsewhere.’
    â€˜They’ve only been turned on for four minutes.’ Irvine tried to calm down. ‘I’m into his Facebook and the cell: the first key he hits, I’ll know.’
    â€˜It’s the Washington Monument, matching the arrogance of the Pentagon and the White House attempt of 9/11!’ insisted Malik. ‘The monument is actually in the White House sight line: the Oval Office would be hit by the shock waves of an explosion. The “fourth” referred to in their message signifies their move, in what they consider their war. Its success will be the “first” for their group.’
    â€˜I’m not waiting any longer,’ insisted Singleton.
    â€˜We’re not,’ agreed Irvine. Into his mouthpiece he said, ‘We’re going to warn Homeland Security.’
    â€˜I already did, thirty minutes ago,’ admitted Bradley. When he’d tried to notify Charles Johnston, a secretary told him the covert operations director couldn’t be interrupted until further notice.
    *   *   *
    â€˜It’ll be total lockdown,’ predicted Irvine, taking off the headset, in which he felt vaguely ridiculous. ‘An hour from now it’ll be on every news channel you can think of.’
    â€˜Which is what it should be if the monument—with the White House in range—is the target,’ said Malik, considering the alert his vindication from the initial doubt of the others in the group.
    â€˜What if it isn’t?’ demanded Irvine. ‘Al Aswamy will know now he’s being officially tracked, so he’ll abort any alternative. And we’ll lose him from this end.’
    â€˜Losing him from this end is better than risking whatever might have happened in downtown Washington in full sight and blast range of the White House,’ said Singleton, not looking away from his computer screen.
    â€˜Not if their suspicion goes as far as believing it’s at our level,’ persisted Irvine.
    â€˜You sure you’re looking at this from the right perspective, Jack?’ Marian frowned, crossing to where the man sat. ‘It isn’t us five and a few at the CIA, Superman and his elves, battling global terrorism into imploding: “Hallelujah, Gotham City’s saved!” We’re a minuscule part of a microcosm, working an idea that had some early success—according to its doubtful justification—an idea that I, personally, still have some problems with. You waited too long on this. You’ve still risked God knows what and God knows how many lives if al Aswamy’s target isn’t the