think he’s headed back there?”
“If he’s got half a brain in his head, he won’t lead us back to his HQ—oh, good, we’ve got two cops behind us.
Nate, let them know who we are.”
“Already on it—whoa!”
Kate heard the screech of tires, then the loud bang of plastic and metal impacting. She looked up to see the sedan they had been chasing had stopped in the middle of the lane, and Nate’s truck had almost plowed through it, but just ended up smacking it instead. The police cars swerved to avoid the pile-up, but the sedan was already moving again.
“Tracy? Are you all right?” Kate asked.
“Nate, get down!” she heard in her ear, along with the distinctive sound of a submachine gun firing.
“Goddammit, this ain’t happening again!” Nate shouted. The truck leaped forward, whizzing past other cars, the rise and fall of police sirens accompanying them.
“There’s a clear patch coming up. Hold on, I’m gonna give him a little tap.”
“That might not be such a good—shit!” Tracy screamed.
Kate heard the screech of tires again, followed by a loud thud and the roar of a revving engine. On-screen, she watched as the truck approached to the right rear of the sedan, then swerved, hitting it on the left rear body panel.
The sedan spun wildly, tires screeching as the driver fought for control. Still spinning, he roared down an embank-ment and stopped at the bottom.
“Suspect’s car has stopped. All units, approach with caution, subject is heavily armed and may be carrying explosives on his person.” Nate’s voice carried loud and clear, then Kate heard the sound of a car door opening, and traffic rushing by.
“Department of Homeland Security. Come out with your hands up!” Kate heard his voice, electronically modified as if he were speaking through a bullhorn. In the distance, she heard a faint cry.
The shout was cut off by an explosion that made Kate snatch her earpiece off her head, gasping in shock. As she watched the satellite image, the sedan erupted in a glowing, gold ball of flame forcing everyone to retreat. Kate inserted the earpiece again. “Tracy? Tracy, are you there?”
“Yeah, Stephanie—yeah, I’m here. Jesus, he just blew himself up. Must have been a grenade or a bomb or something, I don’t know. But he’s gone and he took any evidence we might have found with him.”
“Listen, you have to get over to Spaceworks—they’re a rocket company. We think al-Kharzi is planning a low- earth-orbit strike to spread an EMP wave over the eastern United States.”
“Could these guys have come from there?”
“Right now it’s our strongest hunch. Did you manage to get a look at the car’s license plate?”
“There wasn’t time, but the camera in the Silverado probably got it. Nate, we need to get out of here.”
“I’m downloading the address and directions from your location now. Try to coordinate the Border Patrol and any other DHS agents in the area if you can, but go in quietly— we can’t tip them off, or they might launch early. Brief everyone there on keeping the press out of this for now— we don’t want to cause a panic.”
“Got it. Nate, let’s roll!”
“Oh, one more thing,” Kate said.
“Yeah.”
“Reverse that code, one-five-nine, to turn off the cell-jamming program.”
“Thanks, Stephanie, we’ll be in touch once we’re at Spaceworks.”
“We’ll be watching over you,” Kate said.
Before Kate hung up, she heard Nate say, “Hey, that isn’t too far from here, maybe about fifteen minutes southwest.”
Nate kept his eyes on the road while Tracy skimmed through the camera data, searching for the license plate.
“Here it is. Call the plate number in,” she said.
He read off the plate number to the DHS office and requested a priority response. A few minutes later it came back as a personal vehicle belonging to Zakariya Malik Jasfari. “Where does this guy work?” Nate asked. He heard keystrokes in the background. “Okay, that’s everything we need. Thanks very much,” he said. He turned to Tracy and said, “Bingo!”
He switched channels while he punched up the address for Spaceworks, Inc. “All units in the area, I need immediate backup at the following address on a code thirteen.
I repeat, this is a code thirteen.” Nate used the common law-enforcement code to refer to a possible disaster situation. “Request hazmat team respond, as well. All units converge at the junction road that leads to the target area.”
He replaced the mike and nodded to Tracy. “At least these guys are in the middle of the desert, and not right in town.
I’d get on the horn with your feebee buddy and get us a search warrant for the entire premises, if she can.”
Tracy was already dialing. “Shouldn’t be a problem, especially since we only have to mention the
“Okay, we’re almost there.” Nate scanned the barren desert on both sides, looking for the dirt road driveway.
“Come on, where the hell are you?”
“Right there.” Tracy pointed at a narrow road to their right, which barely looked like anything special compared to the rest of the stark landscape.
“Hmm, not even a sign pointing out the road to anyone coming out here. Not a very effective way to advertise your company, is it?”
Tracy looked at the dirt road that climbed a hill and disappeared over the crest. The glow of bright lights could be seen in the distance. She glanced back at Nate. “I hope you don’t want to handle this like the illegals back at the farm.”
“Well, if we’re only a couple of miles away from an organized terrorist cell, perhaps a more measured approach might be in order. We’ll drive parallel to the road close to the top of that rise and see what we can see. Once the cavalry arrives, then we can go in full bore and shut them down.”
Tracy nodded. “Works for me.”
Turning off the headlights, Nate put his night-vision goggles on and drove onto the driveway just long enough to get off the main road, Then he turned into the desert itself, powering up the rise until they were only about twenty yards from the crest. He stopped the truck and checked his pistol. “Close enough. Ready?”
“After what we did earlier, I’m ready for just about anything.” Tracy made sure her pistol was locked and loaded, and slipped out of the truck. Nate waited for her to join him, his shotgun slung over his back, and they began creeping up the rise.
Sepehr could scarcely believe that the events of the past half hour had even occurred, much less that they had resulted in what he was watching at the moment.
It had all started with Joseph coming back into the sound booth after Sepehr had recorded his triumphant message to the world. Instead of his neat attire and hair from yesterday, the owner of Spaceworks was now haggard and unshaved, dressed in rumpled clothes, with dark circles under his eyes from staying up for over twenty-four hours. “Sepehr, you must see this!”
He turned on the television mounted on the wall, and a local television station showed footage of the
