They moved to Iran when Faizal was still in primary school. Faizal’s father was a university professor, but died of a heart attack before his son reached middle school. Faizal quit his studies shortly after his father’s death to beg on the streets of Konarestan. Since then, he has rapidly risen through the ranks of AnSawar. He is known to be a really brutal son of a bitch.”
Another image flashed across the screen. The mutilated bodies of a young Middle Eastern woman who looked to be in her early twenties and an elderly man were displayed in full resolution. “Sanaa Ibrahim and Josef Ibrahim,” Morgan said, his voice lowered and grave. “Sanaa had the misfortune of courting Faizal for a period of about one year. After Sanaa broke things off with him, or rather Sanaa’s father, he decided to slit both her and her father’s throats while they were taking their afternoon tea. He carved her up pretty badly.”
“Any witnesses?” Gerard asked.
“No. He was too smart to leave a trail. But given the death threats that he’d made against her in the past, and his odd behavior soon after her murder, her demise is too much of a coincidence. Sanaa’s living relatives are pretty convinced that he either killed her outright or hired someone to do his dirty work for him.”
“Who is bankrolling their activities?” Mark asked. It was good to finally be able to put faces and names to the two main players heading up AnSawar, but it still was not enough. Like any organization, terrorist groups couldn’t function without cash flow.
Despite the moral turpitude that terrorists constantly engaged in, group leaders knew that they still had to fulfill at least a modicum of promises to their followers, including providing their foot soldiers with food and a semblance of housing. Not to mention that bombs, bullets, and guns cost money. So yeah, figuring out the names and bank accounts of the financiers was a critical part of isolating and finally putting an end to AnSawar’s activities.
“That’s still unknown at the moment. For months now, several of our analysts in DC have been trying to identify and track any Western financial accounts that may belong to the two men. Faizal and Mohammed have been smart about keeping their operations in the dark. Because they’ve been so thorough in avoiding a paper trail we’re having a difficult time pinpointing any accounts that can be directly linked to either of them.”
“Okay, how about indirectly?” Mark asked.
“We’ve identified several key individuals who are close acquaintances of our two high value targets. But we are still trying to develop whether these individuals are serving as the couriers or middlemen between our targets and the presently unknown financiers.”
“Do you think the Iranian government is involved in this somehow?”
“Anything is still possible at this point in our investigation, Mark. But it is highly unlikely. Given the recent decline in our relationship with the Hazeristan transitional government, it would be more likely they were involved in the attacks,” Morgan replied, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Do we have any indications as to what this group may be planning next?” This question came from the lone Homeland Security officer on the conference call, Giovanni Azzolini. Morgan dialed Giovanni into the meeting at the last minute. Giovanni served as one of the bridges between the myriad of U.S. counterintelligence units, the Navy SEALs, and the FBI.
Morgan fielded the question. “We don’t have any solid leads as of yet. However, we have gone ahead and placed all of our embassies and consulates in the region on red alert, in anticipation of another bombing attempt.”
“So basically, this meeting has given me nothing, but a bunch of fucking goose eggs to report back to the President.”
“Pretty much,” Morgan agreed. “We’re bringing on some additional analysts to help sort through the confusing maze of wires and
Another image flashed across the screen. The mutilated bodies of a young Middle Eastern woman who looked to be in her early twenties and an elderly man were displayed in full resolution. “Sanaa Ibrahim and Josef Ibrahim,” Morgan said, his voice lowered and grave. “Sanaa had the misfortune of courting Faizal for a period of about one year. After Sanaa broke things off with him, or rather Sanaa’s father, he decided to slit both her and her father’s throats while they were taking their afternoon tea. He carved her up pretty badly.”
“Any witnesses?” Gerard asked.
“No. He was too smart to leave a trail. But given the death threats that he’d made against her in the past, and his odd behavior soon after her murder, her demise is too much of a coincidence. Sanaa’s living relatives are pretty convinced that he either killed her outright or hired someone to do his dirty work for him.”
“Who is bankrolling their activities?” Mark asked. It was good to finally be able to put faces and names to the two main players heading up AnSawar, but it still was not enough. Like any organization, terrorist groups couldn’t function without cash flow.
Despite the moral turpitude that terrorists constantly engaged in, group leaders knew that they still had to fulfill at least a modicum of promises to their followers, including providing their foot soldiers with food and a semblance of housing. Not to mention that bombs, bullets, and guns cost money. So yeah, figuring out the names and bank accounts of the financiers was a critical part of isolating and finally putting an end to AnSawar’s activities.
“That’s still unknown at the moment. For months now, several of our analysts in DC have been trying to identify and track any Western financial accounts that may belong to the two men. Faizal and Mohammed have been smart about keeping their operations in the dark. Because they’ve been so thorough in avoiding a paper trail we’re having a difficult time pinpointing any accounts that can be directly linked to either of them.”
“Okay, how about indirectly?” Mark asked.
“We’ve identified several key individuals who are close acquaintances of our two high value targets. But we are still trying to develop whether these individuals are serving as the couriers or middlemen between our targets and the presently unknown financiers.”
“Do you think the Iranian government is involved in this somehow?”
“Anything is still possible at this point in our investigation, Mark. But it is highly unlikely. Given the recent decline in our relationship with the Hazeristan transitional government, it would be more likely they were involved in the attacks,” Morgan replied, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Do we have any indications as to what this group may be planning next?” This question came from the lone Homeland Security officer on the conference call, Giovanni Azzolini. Morgan dialed Giovanni into the meeting at the last minute. Giovanni served as one of the bridges between the myriad of U.S. counterintelligence units, the Navy SEALs, and the FBI.
Morgan fielded the question. “We don’t have any solid leads as of yet. However, we have gone ahead and placed all of our embassies and consulates in the region on red alert, in anticipation of another bombing attempt.”
“So basically, this meeting has given me nothing, but a bunch of fucking goose eggs to report back to the President.”
“Pretty much,” Morgan agreed. “We’re bringing on some additional analysts to help sort through the confusing maze of wires and
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