There were six other armed men in the facility, but all were off duty and sleeping, and the locations of their rooms were provided. When Khalila asked where the prisoners were held, she got blank looks. There were no prisoners or detainees in the facility, they said, only workers.
She relayed the information to the SEALs, then stopped by Harrison. “Something’s not right.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m getting the same feeling.”
Noviello also seemed concerned, but decided to press on, leaving Meyer behind to guard the men and their exit route.
The rest of the team continued in single file, passing a small cafeteria and kitchen, then entered a large common area with several long tables, each lined on both sides with men and women wearing white surgical gowns, face masks, and gloves, processing a white powdery substance on the table. Interspersed throughout were several unarmed supervisors overseeing the work.
When eight armed men in tactical gear and Khalila burst into the room, activity stopped as the men and women stared at them. It was silent in the room as the supervisors slowly raised their hands.
A quick search of the area produced no weapons, and Khalila and Hacker interrogated the supervisors while four of the SEALs rounded up the six off-duty armed men.
When queried about the location of prisoners or detainees, there were more blank stares. However, one of the supervisors said there was a section in the facility containing cells, but they were empty. The entire facility had been abandoned by its previous owners five years ago, taken over by its current occupants due to its isolated and secure location.
Noviello sent several SEALs to search the entire facility, confirming what the supervisor stated. There were no prisoners or detainees, only empty cells and interrogation rooms.
It soon became clear that the men and women were processing cocaine, preparing and packaging it for shipment to the mainland. The facility where the prisoner from Abbottabad had been sent was now nothing more than a drug lab.
Neither technician had been briefed about Neptune Spear, but that wasn’t necessary. They just had to determine how closely the sample taken from the body on the ocean floor matched the two samples in their possession: one of Osama bin Laden taken from CIA archives, and another one from bin Laden’s sister, who had been treated for cancer in the U.S., with the latter provided as a backup sample in case there was an issue with Osama bin Laden’s.
Both men were waiting topside on
Inside the laboratory were two IntegenX portable DNA scanners — a primary and a backup — each the size of a laser copier. Christine shed her borrowed sweater and sweatpants as the technician prepared the sample and added the refrigerated reactive agents, then began the analysis simultaneously on both machines.
The DNA taken from the corpse on the ocean bottom was being compared to the two sample profiles loaded into the scanners, identified only as Sample #1 and Sample #2. Both machines processed the DNA strands until they finished their analysis an hour later. Christine joined the men as they read the information on a color screen built into each scanner. Each machine displayed identical results, which the supervisor explained.
“A comparison with sample one,” he began, “indicates the two individuals are siblings.”
Christine nodded. Sample one was from Osama bin Laden’s sister.
“Sample two,” he said, “matches the sample just obtained.”
“Are you sure?” Christine asked. “What’s the probability the two samples are from different men and the machines improperly correlated them?”
“There’s always a possibility without full DNA sequencing, but the odds in this case are extremely slim.”
“How slim?”
“Based on the DNA site matches identified, the odds of these two samples being from different men is about one in a hundred million.”
