Free Target America: A Sniper Elite Novel by Scott McEwen Page B

saying, we need to consider the facts at hand. Faisal was breaking bread with a known member of the RSMB a month ago. And this morning he was talking on the phone—within eight hours of a nuclear blast—to a man who is also very likely a Chechen about something that went wrong .” He shook his head. “This is not coincidence. They were talking about the New Mexico Event. Also, Faisal is a known high-stakes gambler, and we know that Islamic terrorists have used Vegas casinos to raise funds in the past. I believe he’s a fund-raiser hiding in plain sight, using his familial status as a cover.”
    “Are you saying the Chechens and the Arabs are working together?” Webb asked.
    “We’ve seen it before.”
    “Do you have any actual evidence?” Shroyer asked. “You know damn well we can’t accuse a member of the House of Saud without hard evidence, no matter how minor a member he may be.”
    “I don’t have any yet, but I know how to get it.”
    “How’s that?” Shroyer was more than moderately disappointed byPope’s supposed intel.“We bring him in,” Pope said. “Sweat him for information.”
    Shroyer stole an exasperated glance at Webb. “Bob, the man is not only a member of the Saudi royal family, but you just said yourself that he’s an American citizen now. We don’t sweat American citizens for intelligence.”
    “Oh? Since when?”
    Shroyer’s face reddened.
    “Forget I said that,” Pope said with a wave of a hand. “Being a US citizen strips Faisal of whatever protection his Saudi familial status may have afforded him.”
    “That’s what you think,” Shroyer said. “He’ll lawyer up so damn fast—”
    “I didn’t say to arrest him,” Pope said. “I said to bring him in—to snatch him. He’s well looked after by his own security people, but a team of spec ops professionals could handle the grab easily enough.”
    “What team of spec ops professionals?” Webb asked.
    “ST6-B.”
    “That does it!” Shroyer snapped, pulling the flash drive from the laptop and tossing it across the desk at Pope. “I don’t want to hear any more of this. SEAL Team Six Black was disbanded nine months ago—as you damn well know!—and you’re suggesting that we operate completely outside the rules to kidnap an American citizen directly related to the most important family in the Middle East—a family very deeply invested in the American economy.”
    Pope remained placid. “I’m not suggesting we use active-duty DEVGRU personnel. There are plenty of former operatives working in the private sector that we could call upon.”
    Again, Shroyer looked at Webb. “Can you believe your fucking ears?”
    Webb demurred for a moment, taking time to consider his response. “I’m sorry, Bob, but you’ve overstepped this time.”
    Pope slipped the flash drive into his jacket pocket. “I don’t see how that’s even vaguely relevant. A nuclear bomb has just been detonated on American soil. Wall Street has been shut down for the first time since 9/11. And people are already beginning to hoard food and fuel. Howlong do you intend to let this threat go on? I’ve just given you actionable intelligence.”
    “Whether it’s actionable or not,” Shroyer said, “is wide open to debate. Not to mention it was illegally obtained, which jeopardizes the integrity of this entire agency!”
    Unapologetic, Pope removed his glasses, staring hard at the director. “Contrary to popular belief, George, the time to start bending the rules comes before the enemy gets a second bomb into play, not after, because by then it will be too late.”
    Shroyer sat back, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, Bob, if you think I’m strolling into the Oval Office with this ridiculous audio file and suggesting to the president that he okay a black operation on American soil, then you’ve lost your marbles.” He rocked forward, putting his hands on the desktop and throwing caution to the wind. “In fact, I’m going to