A Gentleman's Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

Crocker said.
    “Then you see my point.”
    “And you’ve made mine. If he’s a Kashmiri veteran, why waste him on a suicide run?”
    “You’ll want to pay attention to this next bit,” Rayburn said, gently enough that Crocker wasn’t certain who was being admonished.
    The young man had finished loading the backpack, leaving it open, and now was taking up the cardboard that had remained propped against the wall. He got to his feet once more and, holding the cardboard sheets against his chest, began showing them, one at a time, to the camera. The writing on each sheet was clear, all caps, written in black marker.
    The first read:
    JIHAD IS THE SIXTH PILLAR OF ISLAM
    “No, it isn’t,” Weldon muttered, annoyed. “There
is
no Sixth Pillar of Islam.”
    “Wahhabism at its best,” Rayburn agreed.
    The young man let the first card drop, turning the second to the camera. The man’s expression, Crocker noted with some alarm, wasn’t much different from the look his wife, Jenny, wore when she was teaching preschoolers.
    YOU, ENGLAND, WE CALL YOU KUFAR—INFIDELS
    The card dropped, and the third was turned.
    A NATION OF MUSHRIKUN CANNOT STAND, SO SAYS THE ONE GOD
    “Mushrikun?”
Barclay asked.
    “Polytheists,” Rayburn said.
    “Since when has C of E been polytheism?”
    “Since God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost entered Christian dogma, sir. But it’s not the C of E that’s being targeted here. Wahhabist doctrine indicts capitalism as a form of polytheism, the love of money being akin to worship, etc., etc. The wealth of the West, namely the First World, versus the poverty everywhere else.”
    The fourth card was presented:
    A NATION OF VERMIN WILL BE GASSED IN THEIR TUNNELS
    “Veiled reference to Israel, perhaps,” Rayburn said. “Perhaps an oil reference as well, possibly directed at our presence in Iraq specifically, the Middle East generally.”
    The man raised the fifth card.
    WE ARE THE BROTHERHOOD OF HOLY WARRIORS
    “The English translation of
Harakat ul-Mujihadin,
” Rayburn said. “Also can be the ‘movement’ of holy warriors.”
    The last card was raised to the camera.
    THERE IS ONE GOD, ALL PRAISE TO HIM
    The young man turned the card and kissed it, then folded it along the middle and slid it into the backpack, between the bottles of petrol. He zipped the backpack closed, then settled it onto his shoulders before walking out of the frame. The camera remained focused on the empty wall, then went to static.
    Rayburn switched off the monitor, and Crocker and Weldon turned with him to face Barclay once more. Barclay remained focused on the dead monitor, brow furrowed, and Crocker wondered what, exactly, his C was thinking. Much as he detested Barclay, Crocker couldn’t—and wouldn’t—deny the man’s intelligence.
    “Why no audio?” Barclay asked after a moment. “Why not simply tell us who they are and what they’re doing? Why the signs?”
    “No clues,” Crocker said.
    Barclay looked at him sharply. “Are you editorializing, or is that an answer?”
    “They didn’t want to leave us anything we could use, sir.”
    “I agree with Paul,” Rayburn said. “The whole production is designed to give us only the barest essentials, and even then to leave several questions unanswered. There’s no way to tell when the video was shot. The presumption is that it was made this morning sometime, but it could easily have been shot three months ago, and we’d be none the wiser. My people have yet to do an in-depth analysis, but I’ll stake my job that they won’t pull anything we can use, sir.”
    “No ambient noise, no way to target their safehouse,” Weldon mused. “No idea where they’re working from, or if there are more of them waiting somewhere in London.”
    Barclay waved a manicured hand at Weldon. “That’s Box’s problem, thankfully, not ours.”
    “It’s all our problem if there are others set to do it again,” Crocker said.
    “Domestic issues, it falls under