Head Game by Tim Downs

Author:Tim Downs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2010-03-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

How do you know all this?” Cale demanded.

“Got it from the horse’s mouth.”

“You mean you’ve met this Hashim character?”

“Met him? He was one of my students.”

“Are you serious?”

“I teach at Fayetteville State, remember? I’m in the master’s program—I teach a PsyOps course that a lot of the 4POG officers attend. But the course is open to anybody who wants to take it, so last semester I got an Arab student who called himself Ahmad. He looked about thirty, thirty-five—pretty average for a master’s student, fit right in. He was working on a degree in psychology, but he seemed to have a very keen interest in PsyOps—especially PsyOps during Desert Storm. Asked a ton of questions.”

“And you answered them.”

“Hey, that’s what they pay me for. This ‘Ahmad,’ he always stuck around after class, chummed it up with the 4POG officers, followed them to the bars after class and asked even more questions. Claimed he was a Jordanian, said he hated the Iraqis too. But the questions he was asking started to strike me funny. Not just questions about strategies and techniques, but people and places—who did what to who and when, you know what I mean? So after a while I got suspicious and started checking him out. Guess what I found?”

“Hashim,” Cale said.

“You got it. ‘Ahmad’ didn’t exist. Apparently this ‘Hashim’ crossed the border into Jordan after the war—along with a few thousand other guys. He spent some time there, did an undergraduate degree in behavioral science at Yarmouk in Irbid.”

“How did you find all this out?”

Pug gave him a look of disdain.“Hey, guess what I used to do for a living— Intel Officer, remember? Anyway, the main reason this Hashim guy was in Jordan was to launder his identity—so after a few years in Jordan, ‘Hashim’ faded away and ‘Ahmad’ took his place. Then Ahmad applied for a student visa to the U.S.—no problem there; the Jordanians are friendlies. Next thing you know he was sitting in my classroom at Fayetteville State.”

“Why? What was he after?”

“I was hoping to ask him that,” Pug said. “Never got the chance.”

“Why not?”

“He disappeared. Dropped the class, dropped out of school, dropped off the planet. Somebody tipped him off. I think he got wind of the fact that I was checking him out. I tried everything I could think of to find him again— no luck. And if I can’t find you, brother, you’re gone.”

“Where do you think he is now?”

“Where do you think?”

A look of realization came over Cale’s face.

“Now you’re getting it,” Pug said.

“You think he’s here? In Charlotte?”

“Yeah, I think he’s here. I tracked this guy all the way back to his unit in the Iraqi army. I found a guy who served with him—he filled in some of the details. Their unit was on the front lines outside Kuwait. The leaflets that fell on their position—the ones that caused the massacre—they were your leaflets, kid. They were yours, and mine, and Kirby’s—and Hashim knows it. So when you ask, ‘What’s he after?’ it’s not too hard to figure out.

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