Kamal took another drag on his cigarette. “You make a lot of assumptions, don’t you? Who said Hashan is the most important mujahid? You say it, because you are blind. Your President’s daughter is important to you. Her taking is sensational, yes. It will give hope to some who were wavering. It will recruit new soldiers. But true believers don’t need a sensation to sacrifice their lives to Allah, and we have more important goals than slaughtering this young cow.”

He paused for a moment, to allow that word to sink in. Cow.

Big Daddy stared down at his own hands. His fingers made a strange, wavelike motion. They looked like the tentacles of an octopus. He was showing remarkable restraint. Again, Luke wondered at his interrogation strategy. He had seen Big Daddy break men’s teeth for less than what Kamal just said.

Kamal continued speaking. “Anyway, who believed Hashan would ever complete this mission? I told you he was an incompetent. I thought he would die in an explosion in a Shiite market square. They sent him to Geneva, to kidnap the daughter of the President of the United States? Who would dream such a thing would work? I can only guess they did this out of pity. Hashan is a bright young man. He is very kind. He has no business in a war zone.”

“What are you saying?” Big Daddy said.

Kamal shrugged. “This kidnapping took place last night. It is a surprise to everyone.”

“Yes, and?”

“His parents are still in Hajin. I’m certain of it. But if you wait much longer, perhaps they won’t be.”

Big Daddy looked at Luke. He raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t hurt to check it out.”

Luke looked at Ed Newsam.

“Let’s go,” Ed said.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

7:05 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time (3:05 p.m. Arabian Standard Time)

The Oval Office

The White House

Washington, DC

“It’s a disaster.”

David Barrett, the President of the United States, was back behind the Resolute Desk. If anything, he looked even less resolute and smaller than he had the night before. His eyes were dark and hollowed out. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

Lawrence Keller nodded. He was once again standing in front of the desk. “I know it. These people are barracudas. They have no mercy.”

An hour before, David had received the audiotape of himself coming unhinged the night before. He said he wasn’t sure where it came from. A young interoffice messenger, already at work at 6 a.m., had brought him the tape in a manila envelope.

“What do you want to do?” Lawrence said.

Barrett shook his head. “I don’t want to step down.”

Lawrence nodded. “No. Of course not.”