Legends

Almost against his will Lincoln felt himself falling under the spell of the Saudi. He saw, now that he was close to him, that the skin on the Saudi’s face and neck appeared yellowish, but he assumed it was due to the low wattage of the bulbs burning in the room. He couldn’t help but like his style—no wonder young men were flocking to join his al-Qa’ida cells in Afghanistan and Yemen. Watching his unflinching eyes, Lincoln could feel the magnetic pull of his personality; the Saudi spoke softly but he carried a big stick. Seeing how uncomfortable his visitor was, the Saudi reached out to offer him a cushion. Lincoln sat on it, his game leg thrust forward, and provided an explanation that had been prepared back at Langley: His several associates would spread out across America and, pretending to represent farmers’ cooperatives in various southern and eastern states, would buy up whatever ammonium nitrate was available and truck it to New Jersey, where it would all be loaded onto a moving van. At a site to be designated, Leroy Streeter would take possession of the ammonium nitrate and pay the fee in cash.

“He asks if you are curious to know what Mr. Streeter plans to do with the ammonium nitrate.”

“I suppose he plans to explode it someplace. Tell you the truth, I couldn’t care less.”

“He asks why you could not care less.”

“I believe America has grown too rich and too fat and too insolent and needs to be taken down a peg or two.” It was clear from the secretary’s expression that he didn’t understand the expression “a peg or two.” Lincoln repeated the thought another way. “America needs to be taught a lesson in humility.”

“He asks what kinds of arms you sold in the Balkans.”

“All kinds. My clients would give me a wish list and I did my best to fill it.”

“What is it, a wish list?”

“A list of the arms and munitions that they wished to have.”

“He asks if you have limited your operations to conventional weapons.”

“My operations have been limited to selling what the Soviet military has in its stocks. Up to now I have procured almost all of the weapons and munitions from Soviet army units in East Germany. Many of the Russians I dealt with have returned to the Soviet Union and would be able to supply me with other articles from the Soviet arsenal. Do you have something particular in mind?”

“He asks whether you could supply spent plutonium or enriched uranium.”

Lincoln thought about that for a moment. “Spent plutonium or enriched-uranium waste could be obtained from nuclear power plants like the one in Chernobyl, north of Kiev in the Ukraine—”

The Saudi interrupted Lincoln and the secretary translated what he said. “He is curious why you mention Chernobyl, since its reactor exploded five years ago and the radioactive waste has been sealed under an enormous concrete sheath.”

“It was the plant’s number four reactor that exploded. Two other reactors remain in use. The radioactive waste is trucked to various nuclear disposal sites in the Soviet Union. There is another source of spent plutonium—the Soviet nuclear submarine fleet based in Archangel and Murmansk is known to be decommissioning vessels because of budgetary shortfalls. Plutonium pits are removed from the decommissioned subs and trucked to the same nuclear disposal sites. The bottom line is that there is no shortage of weapons-grade plutonium or uranium for anyone willing to run the risks involved in negotiating the acquisition. It goes without saying, very large sums of money would be required to conclude such a deal.”

The Saudi accepted the translation with a preoccupied nod. He muttered something to the secretary, who said: “He asks how large?”

“How much radioactive waste would be required?”

“He says to you a tenth of a short ton to start with.”

“Where would he want it delivered?”

“At a site to be specified in Afghanistan.”

“I would need to consult my associates before setting a price. Off the top of my head, I should think we are talking about something in the neighborhood of a million dollars U.S., a down payment in cash when I have located the spent pits, the rest to be paid into a numbered account in an offshore bank.”

“He asks is it so that nuclear bombs can be fitted into something the size of a common valise.”

“He’s referring to what the Americans have designated the MK-47. The Soviets are said to have constructed several hundred of these devices. Imagine something shaped like an army canteen, only larger, roughly the size of a bulging valise, with an automobile gas cap on the top and two metal handles on either side. Because of its size and mobility, the nuclear device can be easily smuggled into a target city and exploded by a crude timing mechanism. The MK-47s contain twenty-two pounds of uranium which, when exploded, is equivalent to one thousand tons of conventional TNT, one twentieth the size of the first Hiroshima atomic bomb.”

“He asks about the shelf life of these valise-bombs.”