Free Rolling Thunder (2007) by Jack - Seals 04 Terral

affairs promised to top this earlier case. While giving only a brief hint of the situation, Joplin's boss, Secretary of State Benjamin Bellingham who didn't know a hell of a lot himself warned Joplin that he was about to be tossed into the deep end of a diplomatic pool filled with boiling controversy and peril.
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    0901 HOURS
    JOPLIN stepped from his office, carrying his briefcase, and went down to the end of a hall where a Capitol Police guard stood by the single elevator situated there. The young officer was giving the diplomat's ID badge a studious gaze when another man approached. Joplin turned to see Colonel John Turn-bull, U.S. Army, the chief of the Special Operations Liaison Staff. The colonel, also toting the usual briefcase that seemed a fashion accessory in Washington, produced his own ID. As the policeman perused the card, the colonel nodded to Joplin. I wouldn't be surprised if we were going to the same place.
    Nor would I, Joplin said. How're you doing, John?
    Frankly, I'm much too busy to be called away from my office for unstated reasons, Carl.
    The policeman approved the IDs, then turned and slid a scanner card into a slot in the wall next to the elevator. The doors buzzed open and the diplomat and officer stepped inside. Turnbull pressed a button that would take them down to the third basement.
    When the elevator arrived, there was another armed law enforcement officer present. After yet one more inspection of the ID badges, the two men proceeded a short distance to an unmarked door. Joplin followed as Turnbull stepped into the room. They both came to an abrupt halt, surprised to see Arlene Entienne, the president's Chief of Staff, seated at the head of a large mahogany conference table. A man unknown to them was seated to one side.
    Joplin greeted Entienne, saying. How have you been, Arlene?
    Fine, thank you, Carl, she answered. Hello, John. This Cajun-African-American was a beautiful green-eyed woman with dark brown hair. The two ethnicities blended well, giving her an exotic beauty that made her the darling of the media. Have you had the operation on that ankle yet?
    I'm putting it off for as long as possible, Turnbull replied. The ex'Green Beret had seriously fractured his ankle on a parachute jump, and the joint was deteriorating to the point that it would have to be fused. He could have gotten a physical disability release from the service, but opted to take a staff job instead. Thus, he ended up as chief of SOLS.
    Sit down, gentlemen, Entienne invited. I would like to introduce you to Edgar Watson. He's CIA on the Iranian desk.
    Greetings, Watson said. Ms. Entienne has already told me who you two are.
    You've been called down to this deep inner sanctum for a very special briefing, Entienne said. As you have surmised, I'm sure, this is a most sensitive situation.
    Watson swung his briefcase up from the floor onto the tabletop. He opened it and pulled some papers out, shoving a separate packet to both Joplin and Turnbull. Okay. Now hear this. Certain elements of the Iranian Army have initiated a mujahideen movement independent of all others. They have begun operations against the foreign military, i.e., Westerners, in the Middle East. They are calling themselves the Jihad Abadi.
    Wait a minute, Joplin said. That is Arabic. The Iranians speak Farsi.
    This is because they are using only Arabs in their operations, Watson said. Unfortunately, this resulted in throwing off our initial intelligence probes. Fact of the matter, we wasted a lot of time before we finally figured out they were operating out of Iran. However, they also have various cells in Iraq, Syria, and Saudi Arabia. Most of their agents are citizens of those countries who have lost faith in the current group of Arab Islamics, suicide bombers in particular.
    I'll be damned, Turnbull said. They finally figured out that getting their young people to blow themselves up and destroying a generation was not a particularly intelligent thing to do,