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This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
THE LAST JIHAD: A NOVEL
Copyright 2002 by Joel C. Rosenberg
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book,
or portions thereof, in any form.
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Forge is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Rosenberg, Joel, 1954
The last jihad : a novel / by Joel C. Rosenberg.-lst hardcover ed. p. cm.
"A Tom Doherty Associates book."
ISBN 0-765-30715-4 (alk. paper)
1. Petroleum industry and trade-Fiction. 2. Terrorism-PreventionFiction. 3. International relations-Fiction. 4. Middle East-Fiction. I. Title.
PS3568.0786 L37 2002
813'.54-dc2l
2002014312
Printed in the United States of America
To Lynn
thank you for loving me
believing in me,
encouraging me,
and running the race with me
next year in Jerusalem
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Marry a girl who loves you enough to take big risks-who believes in you and is willing to ride the roller coaster of life together. I did, and I'm a better man for it.
Lynn-I thank God every day that He brought you into my life, and that in some cosmic and counterintuitive moment I wasn't stupid enough to let you slip away. I cringe to think of what I would be if I hadn't married you. I cringe to think of how many jobs I would have been fired from if you hadn't patiently read and edited everything I've ever written- before I gave it to my editors. The fact that you are such a wise, discerning, and sensitive writer and editor, as well as a great wife, mom, daughter, sister, daughter-in-law, and friend, totally astounds me. I could never have written this book, or any other-nor would I have wanted to-without you. Thank you. I love you.
Caleb, Jacob, and Jonah-yes, you're the Ringling Brothers, a wild and wonderful three-ring circus, but nothing makes me happier than being your dad. Thanks for your love, your prayers, and your eagerness to go on big adventures together.
Dad and Mom Rosenberg-I can't tell you how blessed I am to be your son. Thanks so much for reading this manuscript umpteen times, and thank you even more for not naming me Lincoln.
Em, Jim, Katie, and Luke-you've endured all my crazy projects through the years, what's one more? Thanks for rooting me on! The Meyers 'Tam"Mom, Soonan, Muncie, Tia, little Michael,
'Fael, Dad, Carol, and "Great Gram"-thanks for welcoming me into your family.
To our kindred spirits from Syracuse-the Koshys, Akka, Dave and Barb Olsson, Richie and Colleen Costello, Vince and Junko Salisbury, and Nick and Debbi DeCola-thanks so much for getting us started and keeping us going.
To our kindred spirits from McLean and Frontline-Dan and Elise Sutherland, "John Black John Black," Edward and Kailea Hunt, Daryl Gross, Amy Knapp, Lori Medanich, Julie Christou, Wendy Howard, John and Kelly Park, Jim and Sharon Supp, Kern Boyer, Alan and Bethany Blomdahl, Tim and Carolyn Lugbill, Dave and Twee Ramos, Bob and Janice Lee, Brian and Christa Geno, Frank and Cindi Cofer, Ron and Gennene Johnson, and Lon Solomon and his team-what a thrill to be in the race with you guys. Thanks for doing fun, faith, and fiction with us!
To our kindred spirits in the political world-Rush, Steve and Sabina Forbes, Sean and Jill Hannity, David Limbaugh, Bill Dal Col, Diana Schneider, James "Bo Snerdley" Golden, Kit
"H.R." Carson, Grace-Marie Turner, Marvin Olasky, Nick Eicher, Allen Roth, John McLaughlin, Nancy Merritt, Bill and Elaine Bennett, Pete Wehner, Burt Pines, Joe Loconte, Adam Meyerson, Ed Feulner, and Peggy Noonan-thank you so much for all your encouragement on this project and on so many others.
To my agent, Scott Miller, at Trident Media Group-why you took my first call I'll never know.
But I'm so grateful you did. You've done an absolutely fabulous, relentless, tireless, brilliant job, and I am forever grateful. Thanks so much for your hard work, wise counsel, coolness under pressure, and your friendship. You da man! Let's hope this is just the start.
Finally, to Tom Doherty, Bob Gleason, Brian Callaghan, Jennifer Marcus, and the entire team at Tor/Forge Books-you guys rolled the dice and took a chance on a first-timer ... then you all went absolutely above and beyond when the crisis with Iraq began to heat up to get this book locked, loaded, and fired into the marketplace before the war! I believed in miracles before I met you guys-but now I've seen one with my very eyes and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"Before your eyes I will repay Babylon
and all who live in Babylonia for all
the wrong they have done in Zion,
declares the Lord. Babylon will be
a heap of ruins, a haunt of jackals,
an object of horror and scorn,
a place where no one lives."
-Jeremiah 51:24, 37
"The real test of a man is not
when he plays the role
that he wants for himself,
but when he plays the role
destiny has for him."
-Vaclav Havel
ONE
A presidential motorcade is a fascinating sight, particularly at night, and particularly from the air.
Even from twenty miles out and ten thousand feet up-on approach to Denver International Airport's runway 17R-both pilots of the Gulfstream IV could clearly see the red and blue flashing lights of the entourage on the ground at about one o'clock, beginning to snake westward down Pena Boulevard.
The late November air was cool, crisp, and cloudless. A full moon bathed the flat plains below, and the Rockies jutting heavenward to the right, with a bluish tint and remarkable visibility.
A phalanx of two dozen police motorcycles led the way towards downtown Denver, forming a
"V," with the captain of the motorcycle force riding point. Then came a dozen Colorado State Patrol squad cars, four rows of three each, spread out and taking up all three lanes of westbound highway with more lights and more sirens. Two jet-black Lincoln Town Cars followed immediately, carrying the White House advance team. These were followed by two black Chevy Suburbans, each carrying teams of plainclothes agents from the United States Secret Service.
Next-one after the other-came two identical limousines, both black, bulletproof Cadillacs built to precise Secret Service specifications. The first was code-named "Dodgeball." The second,
"Stagecoach." To the untrained eye it was impossible to know the difference, or to know which vehicle the president was in.
The limousines were tailed closely by six more government-owned Suburbans, most carrying fully locked-and-loaded Secret Service assault teams. A mobile communications vehicle followed, along with two ambulances, a half dozen white vans carrying staffers, and two buses carrying national and local press, baggage and equipment. Bringing up the rear were a half dozen TV-network satellite trucks, more squad cars, and another phalanx of police motorcycles.
Overhead, two Denver Metro Police helicopters flanked the motorcade-one on the right, the other on the left-and led it by at least half a mile. All in all, the caravan lit up the night sky and made a terrible racket. But it was certainly impressive, and intimidating, for anyone who cared to watch.
A local Fox reporter estimated that more than three thousand Coloradoans had just packed a DIA hangar and tarmac to see their former governor-now President of the United States-come home for Thanksgiving, his last stop on a multistate "victory tour" after the midterm elections. Some stood in the crosswinds for more than six hours. They'd held American flags and hand-painted signs and sipped Thermoses of hot chocolate. They'd waited patiently to clear through incredibly tight security and get a good spot to see the president step off Air Force One, flash his warm, trademark smile, and deliver one simple, Reaganesque sound bite: "You ain't seen nothin' yet."
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