Sword Of God (27 page)

The estimated cost is $1.5 billion.

Nevertheless, economic analysts expect the project to be a financial bonanza, capitalizing on the millions of Muslims who visit the Great Mosque throughout the year. Visitors from around the world will be able to look out their hotel windows and stare down at the Kaaba, the holiest shrine in Islam. They will be able to hear the muezzin’s call to prayer while in the air-conditioned comfort of their rooms. They will be able to walk across the street, day or night, and kiss the Black Stone. It will be a pilgrim’s dream come true.

Unless, of course, Trevor Schmidt got to it first.

Payne met Jones near the entrance to the maintenance shaft. A large sealed door, which looked like it belonged in a submarine, had been wedged open before their arrival. Shari guessed it was the noise she’d heard in the tunnel, because the hatch was normally locked.

“Where’s it go?” Jones asked.

“To the perfect target,” Payne answered. He explained what was being built, and more importantly, who was building it. “Osama was shunned by his family a long time ago, but that won’t make a difference to Schmidt. He’ll remember all the family members who were killed in the hospital bombing and focus on the bin Laden name. In one attack, he can avenge his unit’s death and nine-eleven, kill thousands of Muslims, and destroy their most sacred site.”

“Makes sense to me.”

“The only question is how.”

Jones glanced at Shari. “Have you been inside the complex?”

“No one has. It’s nowhere near done. They won’t be finished for two more years.”

“So it’ll be empty except for the builders?”

“Actually, it should be empty,
period.
Today’s a religious holiday. No one will be working.”

“Any security? Cameras? Alarms?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “I’ve spent all my time down here, not outside. Other than the maintenance tunnel, my knowledge about the towers is strictly based on rumors. The bin Ladens are notorious for keeping their designs under wraps. Other than the architects and a few government officials, no one has access to their plans.”

Back in 1979, the bin Ladens were working on a number of religious projects throughout Mecca, exercising the exclusive rights that had been granted to them by the royal family. Because of this special relationship, bin Laden trucks were able to come and go without being inspected, a fact that was taken advantage of by Islamic rebels, who used the trucks—without the bin Ladens’ knowledge—to smuggle hundreds of weapons into the city, including those that were used during ,the insurrection that ended with the seizure of the Great Mosque.

Ironically, since the bin Ladens were in charge of citywide renovations, including those at the mosque, they were the
only
ones who possessed maps of Mecca’s underground tunnel system. That meant even though bin Laden trucks were used in the insurrection, the Saudi police had to turn to the bin Ladens for their assistance.

Jones asked, “Which government officials would be notified about their plans?”

“The Ministry of the Interior.”

“Sonofabitch,” he muttered. “It figures.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

Payne explained. “The guy we’re after tortured one of their officials. We weren’t sure why, but now it makes sense. He wanted to know about the towers.”

The entry route was exactly as they had been told. Follow the pipes directly into the subbasement. Take the stairs to access ground level. From there, all seven towers were accessible via ramps and exterior construction elevators. Security would be virtually nonexistent, since most of the guards would be outside, patrolling the plaza, stopping people from entering the work zone. They wouldn’t be inside, worried about terrorists.

During the past six months, Schmidt had studied the building plans and surveyed Mecca on three different trips. However, until he was standing inside, staring at the tons of concrete and steel that surrounded him, he never fully grasped how big the complex was.

To build the Abraj Al Bait Towers, a large hole was dug until they hit bedrock, which was less than 100 feet deep in Mecca because its layer was close to the surface. In some projects, such as the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur, workers had to dig 394 feet underground to lay the foundation, a massive undertaking that cost millions of dollars.

Next, footings were anchored in the hole to distribute the weight, much like a pyramid, before concrete was poured over the top, creating the bottom floor. Large cranes inserted vertical support beams and horizontal steel girders, which held the building together, forming a giant frame. Finally, a curtain wall, made of concrete and glass, was attached to the outside, providing water and wind resistance while improving the overall aesthetics of the project.

From there, work was done on the interior. Three thousand miles of electrical wires. Twenty-eight thousand miles of plumbing. Heating and cooling systems. Wood, marble, stone, glass. All of it laid in stages over several years, pieces slowly coming together until the complex was finally done.

Construction began in 2004 and wouldn’t be finished until 2009.

But as far as Schmidt was concerned, everything he needed was already in place.

The tunnel was narrow, lined in concrete and filled with massive pipes that seemed to go on forever. With nowhere to hide and no way to spread out, they jogged single file, their footsteps multiplying with every echo. Fluorescent lights, covered in metal screens and bolted to the ceiling, lit their path, but the truth was they were heading into darkness.

No advance recon. No knowledge of the building. Like a black hole of information.

Payne led the way, followed by Jones, then the other two teams. Their pace never slowed from the moment they entered the hatch until they approached the tunnel’s end. It opened into a wide expanse, cluttered with equipment, raw materials, and the skeletal foundation of the buildings. The men scattered quickly, searching for architectural plans, schematics, or maps—anything to help them navigate the maze that surrounded them.

Three minutes passed before something was found. It was a simple pamphlet, written in Arabic and English, detailing the future amenities of the towers, including a full-color illustration of the complex upon completion. There were seven buildings in total, all of them facing the Great Mosque. Five were laid out in a giant horseshoe, while the space between was filled with a multistoried mall. The remaining two towers jutted away from the curve in the U— one tower on each side, yet still connected through a series of walkways and bridges.

The showcased building was the one in the center. Simply called the Hotel Tower, it was nearly sixteen hundred feet tall, trimmed in gold, and topped with a crescent moon, an important symbol in the Islamic faith. It was nearly twice the height of the others, whose names and sizes were listed.

1.  Hotel Tower 485 m, 1,591 ft.

2.  Hajar 260 m, 853 ft.

3.  Zamzam 260 m, 853 ft.

4.  Qiblah240m,787ft.

5.  Sarah 240 m, 787 ft.

6.  Marwah 240 m, 787 ft.

7.  Safa240m,787ft.

With the exception of the hotel, each of the names had its roots in Islam. Sarah and Hajar were women in the Qur’an. Zamzam was the famous well inside the Great Mosque. Marwah and Safa were the hills that pilgrims travel between seven times. Qiblah was the direction of prayer in Mecca.

According to the pamphlet, each of the buildings was being treated as a separate project. All of them were interconnected, but they would be finished at different intervals. Two of the residential towers would be completed this year; the hotel would take until the end of the decade.

Payne considered this while he planned their next move.

Meanwhile, his men gathered around as if he were a quarterback in the huddle, waiting for him to call the play.

“There are six of us and six exterior buildings,” he said. “We don’t know where they’ll be or what they’re doing. For all we know, they’re spread throughout the complex. The best way to cover that much ground is by splitting up. Radio frequently. Keep me posted. Concentrate on the structural areas, places where an explosive will do the most damage. We don’t have time to go room to room. Just follow your gut and we may get lucky.”

He pointed to a man then pointed to a building, each assigned the number in the pamphlet. “You, four. You, five. You, six. You, seven. D.J. and I will take the two towers closest to the hotel. If you see anything, let us know. We’ll reassign manpower as needed.”

The soldiers dispersed, moving in pairs. Even-numbered buildings were on the left; odd numbers were on the right. The men would travel together until they were forced to split up.

Payne and Jones were the last to leave. They lingered in (he subbasement for an extra minute, looking for something to improve their odds, hoping to find a better map, one with floor plans or mechanical drawings. Anything to point out the weaknesses that Schmidt might have spotted when he did his research.

As it turned out, their biggest break wasn’t an object. It was a sound. A simple sound. Nothing more than a drip of liquid falling on concrete. Like a droplet of rain hitting the sidewalk. Jones heard it as he searched for paperwork. On most occasions it would have blended into the outside world and he would have ignored it. But in this case, his senses were in overdrive. Adrenaline was flowing, and everything around him was part of a much bigger puzzle.

A sound could be a footstep. A sound could mean his death.

Drip.
Somewhere to his left.

Drip.
Back near the maintenance shaft.

Drip.
What was that smell?

Suddenly his curiosity was doubled. Not only was there a noise, but there was an odor. A familiar scent that reminded him of his time in the military. Back when he was flying planes and helicopters. Killing time in hangars. Waiting for his next mission to begin.

He took a few steps forward, searching the ceiling and floor for moisture. Finally he saw it. A small puddle underneath the massive water pipe they had followed from the hatch. Curious, he crouched and inspected the liquid. It was clear like water but had a strong chemical smell. He put his nose closer and took a whiff.

“Jon,” he called over his shoulder. “Come over here.”

Payne spotted him in a catcher’s stance, examining a puddle on the ground. He couldn’t imagine what his friend was doing. “Please tell me you didn’t take a piss.”

Jones ignored him. “I think it’s fuel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think this pipe is leaking fuel.”

“But that’s a water pipe.”

He nodded. “I know it is. But I’m telling you, this isn’t water.”

Dubious, Payne leaned closer and breathed in the fumes. An acrid stench filled his nostrils, burning the back of his throat and making him gag.

“Told you it isn’t water.”

Payne coughed a few times, trying to catch his breath. “What the hell is that?”

But Jones didn’t answer. Instead, he took a few steps down the maintenance shaft, trying to figure out what was going on. He glanced back into the subbasement, following the plumbing, then back into the shaft again, the pieces still not fitting together. “Where do those pipes go?”

“To some private facility in the desert. Shari said the towers were so big they had to pump in their own water.”

“But that’s
not
water.”

“I know it’s not water. I’m still choking.” He paused for a second as all the nasty possibilities started to sink in. “Wait. What do you think it is?”

“Aviation fuel.”

When designing a skyscraper, water pressure is a significant problem that must be overcome. Large pumps in the basement usually service the lower floors. However, it is impractical to pump water directly to a penthouse, several hundred feet in the air. Most buildings are equipped with mechanical floors, every ten floors or so, which are filled with everything from air-conditioning units to ventilation systems. This is where intermediate pumps are stored, used to push water from one stage to the next until the liquid reaches its highest destination.

Unfortunately, this is an inefficient system in the tallest of buildings, always relying on the pump below to send water to the pump above. One mechanical failure and the water stops. This is a huge concern in emergency situations, when sprinkler systems cannot afford to fail because ground-based fire equipment is incapable of shooting water above certain heights.

To remedy this situation, tanks are often installed on the upper floors, where water is stored in case it is needed.

Sometimes the tanks are small, placed on every mechanical lloor in the building. Sometimes they’re large, scattered throughout different parts of the system, based on estimated demand. And occasionally, in really big projects such as the Abraj Al Bait Towers, the designers opted for something different.

In the mechanical penthouse, on top of every tower in the seven-building complex, sat a water tank with a capacity of 40,000 gallons. Engineers designed these tanks with a dual purpose in mind. First and foremost, they could supply water to the 65,000 guests who would fill the towers and all the extra people who used the mall, convention center, and prayer halls. Second, the tanks served as tuned mass dampers, absorbing vibrations from high winds and possible earthquakes—not to mention 2.4 million people as they strolled through the Meccan desert during the hajj season—which helped to protect the structural integrity of the building’s core.

Ironically, the tanks were installed to keep the towers standing, but they were the very things that might bring them down.

Trevor Schmidt smiled as he placed the charge along the base of the water tank.

It was the perfect choice for the perfect mission.

C-4, an abbreviation for Composition 4, was a military-grade plastic explosive, one that was preferred by the U.S. Special Forces because its velocity of detonation was ideal for metalwork. Not only was it malleable, allowing it to be molded into specific shapes or wedged into the tiniest of spaces, but it was also highly stable. It could be shot, dropped, kicked, or thrown into a fire, but it wasn’t going to explode without a detonator. For the past few hours, Schmidt had carried five pounds of it in a shoulder bag and never worried about it blowing up prematurely.