The Blood Flag by James W. Huston Page A

streaming down their faces. Some fell to the ground. The cameraman in Munich moved against the flow, down into the subway, the U-Bahn. People pushed past him, fighting for air. Police and medical teams rushed by, heading down toward the subway trains.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œBombs on the subway in Munich and Berlin. Went off at exactly the same time, 5:00 p.m.”
    â€œAnybody take credit?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œCoordinated attacks sounds like al Qaeda.”
    â€œThey haven’t said yet.”
    I looked at the images from Berlin. The graphic on the bottom of the screen said forty-five dead, at least ninety more injured. I listened to the reporter. “ . . . a few minutes ago. The bomb went off at a station where many people change trains. Five lines come together at this stop,” she said, indicating over her shoulder, “Alexanderplatz, and apparently a bomb went off on one of the trains, and at multiple locations in the station itself, all at exactly the same time. It has completely shut down the U-Bahn.”
    They switched the audio to the reporter in Munich. “Yes, thank you. Here in Munich the bombs were the same. In the station and on one of the trains. Simultaneous, and apparently set to go off at the same time as in Berlin. Here the bombs went off at Marienplatz, where ten lines pass near to each other. The entire system is shut down, the city is frozen, and many are dead with dozens more injured. We will get casualty figures as soon as they are available. The blast in the station was so strong the ceiling of one of the platforms caved in and the train that passed overhead fell down into the lower area. The explosion was devastating. It is unknown how someone got a bomb with such force into the station, let alone onto a train.”
    The reporter held her hand to her ear and said, “We now have images from the subway tunnel.” The view switched from outside to the underground platform by the damaged train. The video zoomed in. The front of the train was blown off like an exploding cigarette. The second car was heavily damaged and the entire train was off its tracks. Dead and injured lay all around the platform as emergency personnel attended to the injured. You could hear the crying and screaming of those suffering. A police officer turned and saw the cameraman and immediately ordered him to turn off the camera. He grabbed it and forced the lens to the ground. CNN switched back to the reporter outside the subway entrance. “As you can see, the damage to the train is shocking. This was clearly a powerful bomb, as were the other two that went off inside the subway station at the height of rush hour, with people of Munich returning to their homes . . . ”
    I looked at Alex. I was about to speak when my phone rang. I picked up the receiver. “Morrissey.”
    â€œKyle. You watching this?” It was Rebecca Anderson. CIA. My counterpart at the Agency who tracked international terrorism and finance.
    I answered, “Unbelievable. Who’s behind this?”
    â€œNot sure yet. But there are some who think it’s your boy, the one you told us to pay attention to.”
    â€œAl-Hadi?”
    â€œThey think he’s moved up, from pure finance to running operations. They think this is his first.”
    â€œDamn. What a way to start, if it’s him. He’s sure painting a target on his chest.”
    â€œI’ll give you updates as soon as I can, but you might check any sources you have that I don’t.”
    â€œWill do.” I hung up.
    I talked to Alex while I watched the images on my screen. “They think it may be al-Hadi.”
    She frowned. “He’s too smart to go at it directly.”
    â€œThat’s my thinking. We follow him, trace him. But we don’t send a predator to put a hellfire through his bathroom window. But if he did this, we sure as hell will. Or Germany will.”
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