hands on the bomb. But something inside of him had made him stay. Like a moth drawn to a flame he had been seduced by the power of the device. In one act of terrorism they could finally strike fear into the hearts of every Westerner who’d dared to come to the Middle East with their insatiable appetite for oil; with their infectious culture and ideas that were far more dangerous than any deadly virus. He could finally strike a decisive blow for the deaths of his parents that had scarred his soul more deeply than even he could admit to himself. They had been his entire world. He’d been a shy, delicate boy whom his parents had protected. When they were killed by the Jews he’d almost drawn inside of himself, into a nothingness, into a deep depression from which he knew he would never have survived. Instead, his heart had turned to stone, and he had begun the long fight against Israel and every nation that supported it that would, he understood on a pragmatic level, not end until he was dead. But the fight had been glorious at times. And there was still one more blow to be delivered, if bin Laden could be kept from going completely insane and ordering the impossible.
The procession started up the hill at the same moment the radio squawked softly.
Bahmad stepped closer to the cave entrance for better radio reception. “Yes,” he answered.
“There is trouble,” Hamed came back.
“Is McGarvey dead?”
“No.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the cataracts.”
That was a spot on the path about a kilometer above the first rest area before the valley. Bahmad worked to keep his anger in check. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. But there was a fight and he killed Mohammed and Hash. Farid just showed up, he’s with me now.”
“Was McGarvey wounded?”
“Apparently not,” Hamed replied.
Bahmed who had picked his inner circle very well, had complete faith in Hamed. “He’s probably on his way to the Rover. Stop him before he reaches it. Whatever you must do, kill him, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Hamed said. “Is everything all right up there?”
“No,” Bahmad said softly. He pocketed the radio, and took out his phone as bin Laden reached the cave opening. Their eyes met, but he could read nothing in bin Laden’s other than a father’s despair. Bin Laden turned to his followers who were gathered a few meters below.
“Final justice will be ours,” bin Laden shouted, his voice surprisingly strong.
Bahmad stepped back out of sight and pushed the speed dial button for a number in Kabul.
“No American will be safe from our wrath. When we strike it will be in the infidels’ homeland.”
It was what Bahmad had expected and feared most. Bin Laden was crazy and he meant to take them all down with him. But there were plans. Possibilities. Even targets, because he had been working on the problem for several months now.
“No one will ever forget,” bin Laden shouted.
The call was answered on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Do you know who this is, Colonel?”
“Yes, I do,” the man said in a guarded voice. In the background Bahmad could hear a great deal of commotion. “We’re still trying to find out where the missiles hit. Was it you?”
“Yes, it was. We’re leaving here in a few hours, but there’s something you must do for me.”
“Listen, the Shura is finally going to demand that he leave Afghanistan. All foreigners are going to be expelled within the next forty-eight hours for their own protection. The rioting has already started down here. We can’t have this any longer. You must make him understand!” The Shura was the ruling council.
“We do understand, and we are leaving,” Bahmad said, keeping his voice reasonable. “But there is one last thing that you must do for me.”
The phone was dead for a moment. Bin Laden was quoting the Qoran, his voice like Bahmad’s, clear, calm, unhurried. He was a teacher instructing his eager pupils, a shepherd showing his flock the way.
“What do you want?”
“The American Kirk McGarvey may be on his way back to Kabul in the Rover.”
“You should have killed him,” the army colonel said bitterly. “We tried but failed,” Bahmad admitted. “He is a very resourceful man. If he reaches Kabul I want him killed. At all costs. Do you understand me?”
“Who is he?”
“Just a CIA field agent. But he came here for one purpose only, to kill Osama. For that he has to die.”
“Was his mission a success?”
Bahmad was looking at bin Laden. “No, it was not,” he said. “Will you do this one last thing for us?”
“Yes,” the colonel said without hesitation. “If he gets this far he will die. I guarantee it.”
“Thank you,” Bahmad said and he broke the connection.
“The walls of Jericho will come tumbling down,” bin Laden told his people. “But this time there will be a hammer-Joshua’s hammer — swung by an Islamic fist for all the world to see and respect. Insha “Allah.”
Yes, Bahmad thought. Insha’Allah. God willing.
ELIZABETH MCGARVEY
Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
McGarvey searched Mohammed’s body, finding three full magazines for the Kalashnikov. He had to decide if he should take them and the rifle or continue without the extra weight.
It would take the rest of the day for Farid to make it back to the camp, and depending on what he found there, possibly another half-day to bring reinforcements back with him. It wasn’t likely that everyone had been killed in the missile raid, and if bin Laden had survived he would go all out to stop McGarvey from leaving Afghanistan alive.
If there were other more direct routes to the Rover they would take those in an effort to intercept him. If that failed they might alert the military in Kabul to be on the lookout for him. It meant in reality that he only had a few hours’ head start, time enough for Farid to reach the camp, so he had to travel light.
He set the magazines aside and found his satellite phone in another pocket. The low-battery indicator light was on. Mohammed had evidently been playing with it. But it didn’t matter as much now, because the damage had already been done.
He entered the security code and then hit the speed dial button. After a minute the phone acquired a satellite and the call went through. He looked at his watch. It was after midnight in Washington, but if Otto wasn’t in his office the call would automatically be rolled over to his cell phone or his apartment. It was answered before the first ring was completed.
“Oh, wow, Mac,” Rencke shouted excitedly. “I knew you were alive! I just knew it!”
“Okay, settle down, Otto. I’m in one piece, but I’m going to need some help getting out of the country, and I want to know what the hell is going on there.”
