The officer checked his notes.

"That's the same year the Sayef began their campaign of kidnapping foreigners. Initially it was believed that they did it for the ransom, but it is more likely they did it for the notoriety. In 1995 the Abu Sayef attacked a Christian town on Mindanao, razing it to the ground and killing fifty-three civilians and soldiers."

Royce turned as Foster entered the control room. The scientist stared at him for several seconds, until Royce finally spoke.

"I work with David."

Foster was about to say something when the intelligence officer continued and both turned back to the operations center to listen.

"No group like this comes into being in a vacuum. This goes back hundreds and hundreds of years. Islam came to the Philippines in the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. While in Indonesia and Malaysia, Muslims became a majority, in the Philippines they've always been a minority, about five percent of the population, concentrated in the southern islands. Catholicism is the dominant religion in the Philippines by far. After all, the Philippines were a Spanish colony from 1565 to 1898, and then we took over after the Spanish-American War. However, despite the small numbers, for centuries some islands, including Jolo, were essentially independent sultanates with a predominant Muslim population.

"It was me, the United States, who forced them into becoming part of the rest of the country. Both before and after World War II, most of those people did not even consider themselves Filipino but rather Moros. The central government in Manila always considered the Moros a threat and has made forced resettlement of Christians into Muslim held territory a national policy, which has not pleased the Moros. As much as the central government pushed, the Muslims have reacted and pushed back.

"This came to a head in 1946 when the Philippine Republic was established and the United States relinquished control of the islands. Choices had to be made. Surprisingly, some of the elite and powerful Muslim elders actually aligned themselves with the central government and even supported the resettlement of Christians in historically Muslim territory.

"Essentially they sold out. Or they bowed to what they viewed as an inevitable reality. But not all. Not Abayon. He tried to make things work between the two sides and almost succeeded. In the sixties he was able to broker a truce between the government and the Muslim extremists, but he couldn't keep it going. In 1968 a group of Muslim army trainees were massacred by their own Christian leaders. Then in the 1971 elections, Marcos and the ruling party gained so much power that they no longer felt they had to appease the Muslim minority. Outright war broke out between Christians and Muslims."

The officer continued.

"Marcos declared martial law in 1972. In reaction, Muslims declared themselves independent. Thousands were killed in the fighting and hundreds of thousands were displaced. Libya provided sanctuary for some of the Muslim leaders during this. But" – the officer glanced up from his notes – "Abayon never left the islands like many of his contemporary leaders in the revolt did.

"In 1976, under pressure from Libya and the OIC – the Organization of Islamic Conference, mainly made up of other Muslim countries – the Tripoli Agreement was negotiated. This brought a cease-fire and autonomy to thirteen southern provinces in the Philippines where the majority of Muslims lived.

"Of course it didn't work out," he continued.

"The Muslims began fighting among themselves over who should control their territories. The MNLF, the BMLO – Bangsa Moro Liberation Organization – and other splinter groups fought for power. And in the background, Abayon and the Abu Sayef remained aloof from the infighting.

"Fighting between the central government and the Muslims broke out in 1977. The various Muslim groups also were fighting among themselves, which must have delighted Marcos. When Marcos fell in 1985, the new government held out the olive branch to Muslims. It seemed that everyone was tired of the fighting. A peace process was begun. But a serious schism was beginning to form between moderate Muslims and extremists. This is when the Abu Sayef began to come to the forefront, espousing jihad, violent struggle, versus the government policy of nonviolent mobilization, known as dawa."

General Slocum stood up.

"This just reflects what started happening everywhere in the world in the nineties and into the new millennium. Abayon is the head of the Abu Sayef and the group is just one of the many tentacles of this movement, just like Al Qaeda. They are a threat to our way of life, and our job is to take down one of those tentacles."

Slocum wasn't done.

"These people use terrorism as their weapon against civilization. They took the war to us on 9/11. Now we're taking the war to them. Let's do it."

Royce was impressed with Slocum. The general didn't seem to be acting. His musings on the simulation were interrupted by Foster.

"Why are we playing this game?" the scientist demanded.

"You heard that. The Abu Sayef are terrorists and Abayon is their leader. We shouldn't have to be playing this hide and seek game to – "

"Shut up," Royce said. He realized Foster wasn't as bright and aware as he had thought.

Foster appeared not to hear him.

"This is a simulation center, not a real operations center. I can't be held responsible for – "

Royce pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Foster. That got through, and the scientist's mouth snapped shut, his eyes getting wide.

"David explained your situation, correct?"

Foster nodded.

"Let me explain it more clearly since you haven't gotten the message."

Royce pressed the muzzle of the gun against Foster's forehead.

"I don't give a shit about your job at the NSA. Or the blackmail from college. You pull your weight here, get the team the support it needs, do what I tell you to do, or else I kill you. Is that clear?"

Foster swallowed hard. He tried to nod, then realized the cold steel against his forehead precluded that.

"Yes," he managed to get out.

Abayon smiled for a moment, but it passed quickly as the cigarette smoke reached his lungs and he doubled over in his chair, hacking and coughing. He cursed as he stubbed out the cigarette on the armrest of his wheelchair. This one vice had been taken from him by the frailties of his aging body.

He watched the small dot of light that represented Moreno move through the strait between Jolo and Pata islands into the open sea until it disappeared around the headland. Then he wheeled himself inside the complex, the camouflaged steel door sliding down behind him. He rolled down the corridor, the only sound the rhythmic hiss of air being moved through the large pipes bolted to the ceiling. It was a sound he had lived with for many decades so it went unnoticed. Somewhere in the distance another steel door clanged shut.

Abayon reached an elevator. The doors slid open and he rolled inside. Reaching up, he could just barely reach the buttons. They had faded Japanese writing next to them. He punched the one for the lowest level of the complex. With a slight jerk, the old elevator slowly began descending into the bowels of Hono Mountain. It took over two minutes for him to get to the level he wanted.

The doors opened, presenting him with two of his men armed with submachine guns standing in a small anteroom. They snapped to attention upon recognizing him. One turned to the control mechanism for the door behind them, sliding a large metal key into one of the slots. Abayon wheeled to the other side of the door, pulled out his own version of the large key and slid it into the slot on that side.