Page 97 of Whisper

“We also have no evidence of him leaving the United States.”

“He most likely traveled under a false passport.”

“A false passport we have never uncovered, using an alias we have never discovered, despite a year of turning this man’s life upside down, investigating every part of his existence? I can tell you what food he bought three times a week at the grocery store and how often he bought toilet paper, Mr. Vice President. I can tell you what movies he watched repeatedly and what his favorite drinks at his favorite strip club were. The brand of toothpaste he used and how often he brushed his teeth.”

“But you cannot say where Atta was on April ninth, 2001. Can you?”

Kris exhaled. “It was a Monday. The pilots responsible for the hijacking had completed most of their training. Their funds were fine. No one was experiencing money problems. The so-called muscle hijackers were about to enter the United States. There had been no issues with their plans so far. Everything had gone perfectly for a strictly compartmented mission that only a few members in the senior al-Qaeda leadership knew anything about.

“Mr. Vice President, there simply is no reason for this meeting to have taken place. And Atta hated Saddam Hussein. His journals show that he hated the secular dictatorship, as most members of al-Qaeda, Bin Laden included, hated Iraq. Saddam Hussein was, to them, an apostate. They wanted him destroyed. They didn’t want him as an ally. There is no reason for Atta to have flown to Prague or to have met with an Iraqi intelligence agent. There is no proof, none, that it happened.”

“If Bin Laden and his followers hated Saddam, then why did Saddam order his military to Alert G, the highest military readiness level, two weeks before nine-eleven? Why did he move his wives to the most protected compound in Iraq? Why did he seem to know, ahead of time, that a major attack was imminent?”

Kris swallowed. “I don’t know, Mr. Vice President.”

The vice president swooped forward, hovering over his padfolio. “You don’t think it’s strange at all that in August 2001, one of the United States’ main opponents was expecting a massive attack to occur?”

“I do think that’s strange, sir.”

“Iraq was the only nation to not offer condolences to the United States after nine-eleven. Every other nation on the planet offered their sympathy to us. Even tribesmen in Kenya, who didn’t hear the news for months, responded to the attacks. They gave us cows. Fourteen cows. And the Iraqis said wegot what we deserved.” The vice president spoke quickly, his words like rapid-fire bullets aimed straight at Kris.

“Saddam Hussein is an incredibly paranoid and monstrous human being,” Kris said slowly. “No one disputes that. But to use his psychopathic tendencies and his hatred of the US in an attempt to force a connection to al-Qaeda…” Kris trailed off. “Mr. Vice President, Ican’tsupport these findings.”

Director Thatcher spoke up, clearing his throat. “We have human source reporting from within the Iraqi government, Mr. Vice President. A source claims that after nine-eleven, there were fierce debates within Saddam’s inner circle. All of Saddam’s officials were counseling him to reach out to the US to make it clear that Iraq had no connections to the terrorists who perpetrated the attacks.”

“But theydidn’t,” the vice president spat. “Theydidn’t.”

“Saddam Hussein has been opposed to Islamic fundamentalism for decades. When the Taliban took control of Afghanistan, he refused to open an Iraq Embassy in Kabul. Whenever Saddam discovered elements of Salafi or Wahhabi Islam sprouting in Iraq, he ruthlessly executed anyone associated with the fundamentalist sects.”

The vice president stared at Kris. “Caldera,” he said slowly. “KrisCaldera.” He nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “I doubt you’ve reviewed ourotherintelligence linking Saddam to al-Qaeda.”

Hecouldn’tget into an argument with the vice president of the United States, no matter the dig, the potshots that the vice president might take. He lifted his chin. “I have, Mr. Vice President. In fact, I took a special interest in the report, chiefly because of its origins.”

The vice president arched a single eyebrow. He sat back, holding his pen in both hands, spinning it in front of his chest. “You cannot dispute this intelligence.”

I absolutely can. I can and I will. I’ll scream and shout and dance on this table, call the newspapers, go public–

Kris kept his shoulders still. Didn’t move a muscle. Stared at the vice president. Director Thatcher’s foot nudged his, under the table.

“You’re talking about the torture of al-Shayk.”

“Thequestioning,” the vice president snapped. “Under enhanced interrogation techniques.”

“Al-Shayk was captured in Pakistan in November 2001. He was questioned at Camp Cobalt in Afghanistan, but someone thought he wasn’t giving up enough information. Despite him detailing plans to attack naval infrastructure in Yemen and Bahrain, and despite providing information that helped point to Zahawi’s capture.”

“Kris,” Director Thatcher said softly.

“Al-Shayk was rendered to Egypt, where the Egyptians took over questioning. I’ve reviewed the cables. It’s astounding how, in early 2002, months after September eleventh, just after the war in Afghanistan, al-Shayk was questioned about al-Qaeda’s ties to Iraq. The focus of his interrogation changed completely. The questions weren’t about protecting the homeland anymore. They were exclusively focused on determining what connections al-Qaeda had to Saddam Hussein.”

“Uncovering the links between al-Qaeda and Iraqisprotecting the homeland! Saddam Hussein is a state sponsor of terrorism! You can see for yourself!” The vice president waved to his files.

“What I see is a man who confessed under torture to whatever his interrogators wanted to hear!”

“Kris—” Thatcher hissed.

“Al Shayk confirmed it. In 1999, al-Qaeda sent two operatives to Iraq for Saddam to train in chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons systems!” The vice president slammed his hand down on his padfolio, over the Top Secret folders. “He admitted it!”

“He confessed tostopthe torture!” Kris snapped. “Egyptian prisons are notorious for their torture and their forced confessions! They’re fingernail factories!”