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here is to get your assurances that your security systems are firmly in place.”
    “Your president telephoned me a few minutes ago, probably to ask me that very question. I didn’t take her call, I wanted to talk to you first. We may have a problem. At this point I’m told that four of them have gone missing.”
    Haaris suppressed a smile. “My God,” he said. “Rajput said nothing about it. Who has them, hopefully not the Taliban?”
    “As I said, General Rajput is no friend. At this point all I know is that they may be missing, but who has them is still in question. But if it is Taliban it’s not likely they have the technical knowledge to explode the things. There is that.”
    “The North Koreans would be willing to help.”
    “We’re watching for just that. Currently there are seventeen North Koreans in Islamabad, Rawalpindi and Karachi. They are here as businessmen, but we’re keeping a very close eye on their movements.”
    “Exactly who is doing this?”
    “People in the SS Directorate personally loyal to me.”
    The ISI’s SS Directorate’s prime function was to monitor terrorist activities throughout Pakistan. It was one of the divisions inside the spy agency that Haaris had not been able to penetrate, and one that General Rajput had assured him was of little or no interest to the Americans. Of course, the general was playing both ends against the middle.
    “You’ll need to talk to President Miller and reassure her that you are in control of the nuclear arsenal.”
    “It would be a lie.”
    “Of course, but without that assurance she’ll almost certainly send in our Nuclear Energy Support Team to disable as many of your weapons as our people can get to.”
    “That would not be so easy as the bin Laden raid.”
    “No one thinks it would be. Certain of our people on her staff and in the Pentagon believe that the losses we would suffer are worth reducing the risk of your weapons falling into the wrong hands.”
    “Which may already have occurred,” Barazani said. “But why are you here? What you are telling me makes you a traitor. And just what is it that you are telling me? What’s the U.S. strategy?”
    “You need to look at the bigger picture, Farid. If the Taliban has gotten its hands on some nuclear weapons, Pakistan is finished. If President Miller does order our Nuclear Energy Support Team to neutralize what weapons they can reach, Pakistan will be doubly vulnerable—from the Taliban and also from India, which could very well mount a preemptive nuclear strike knowing that you could not retaliate.” Haaris waved his hand toward the French doors. “Then there are the people who demand that something be done.”
    “A camera has been set up outside, and my image will be shown on the Jumbotron screen at the head of the front stairs. But what do I tell them? I was waiting for something substantive from you.”
    “What they want to hear.”
    “What are you telling me, David?” Barazani asked. “That I should step down? Who would take my place? Who would want to, except for the military, or maybe Rajput himself? What are you saying?”
    “More to the point, what is the mob on Constitution Avenue demanding?”
    “They’re a mob.”
    “Pakistanis.”
    “Directed by the Taliban.”
    Haaris nodded.
    Barazani looked like a trapped man. His eyes were wide and he breathed through his mouth. His face was wet. “Is this the message you have brought me from Washington?”
    “Not exactly,” Haaris said. “I have something more specific.”
    “What?”
    Haaris got up and went to his bag. His back to Barazani he broke the diplomatic seal and took out a Glock 29 subcompact pistol, a suppressor attached to the muzzle. He turned around, walked directly back to Barazani, who reared back, and shot the president of Pakistan in the middle of the forehead.

 
    EIGHT
    President Barazani lay slumped to the left in his chair. Only a small amount of blood had leaked out of the wound in his forehead