One Rough Man

“Yeah.”

“What do you want me to do?”

* * *

Bakr placed the finishing touches on his explosive package, attempting to make it as unobtrusive as possible. Ordinarily he would have embedded the entire device in ball bearings and nails in an effort to create as much death and destruction as possible. In this case, all he wanted to do was disperse his Tupperware container of death without destroying it. He opted not to build a suicide vest but to utilize the backpack he already had.

His biggest challenge was creating enough of an explosive effect to distribute the toxin over as large an area as possible without actually destroying it in the fire and pressure of the explosion itself. It was a delicate Catch-22. Go too large, and all he would get was an explosion that consumed the toxin. Go too small and he would kill very few people. Luckily, he’d had in-depth instruction on how to tamp the material and protect it from the fire of the explosion as well as how to maximize the downwind hazard once the poison was airborne.

Taping down the blasting caps, he heard a vehicle approach down the road. He had been in the house for over an hour and hadn’t heard a single car yet. He paused his work and went upstairs to the window. He relaxed, seeing a beat-up sedan pass by with a Bosnian man and woman inside. They paid his house no attention whatsoever. He returned to the device, connecting his special detonator to the blasting caps.

97

Lucas wondered how far he could push his second-tier team. He decided to opt with their strengths: full-on frontal assault. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, as he had to assume that Mason’s team was on Pike right this moment, tracking him for the kill. He asked his tech man what was taking so long for a beacon fix, only to be told for the third time that the pager track download was locked up. He took a deep breath and let it out, asking again, “How much longer is this going to take?”

“It’s rebooting now. Shouldn’t be but a few more minutes.”

Lucas walked in a small circle, physically forcing himself to remain patient. The men returned from the rental agency, driving an SUV and a sedan. Together, they were large enough to hold the team plus equipment and perhaps one more person. The vehicles blended into the traffic around the airport, pleasing Lucas with the selection. Figured they’d bring back a convertible mustang or a two-seater Porsche. Maybe I’m selling them short.

One of the drivers said, “Somebody just beat us to the counter. This is all they had available, but they should work.”

Lucus mentally rolled his eyes. So much for thinking they made a conscious decision.

* * *

Knuckles paused the video at the target house, seeing the same two-story style with a courtyard in the back that appeared all over the area. The front of the house was clean, with a clear path to the door. No parked cars or fences to worry about. It was located on the east side of the street, with houses on both sides and behind it.

“What were the atmospherics of the neighborhood?”

“Quiet,” Bull said. “In fact, we didn’t see a single automobile. A couple of pedestrians and a few folks tending gardens, but definitely not a hopping place.”

Knuckles stared at the still image. “All right. I don’t want to do a mounted assault. We do an offset on the main thoroughfare to the east, then conduct a dismounted movement to the target from the south, the opposite direction of the recce drive-by. We move in two groups. One takes squirter control in the rear, the other enters the house from the front.”

Knuckles paused for questions, then continued. “Remember, we don’t know what’s in this house, so we can’t treat it as a hostile force. Discriminate on every target. We don’t want to end up killing some old housewife.”

Knuckles finished the briefing by splitting the team, putting me on squirter control. Out of the fight again. I didn’t argue, knowing he was right.

I moved off to the rear of the lead car, checking my weapon and spare magazine placement, working to ensure I could reload in a minimum amount of time. Jennifer walked over, tentatively asking, “Hey, I’m not trying to bug you, but I didn’t understand any of that.”

I continued working on my kit. “Based on what you guys are saying about the traffic in the area, we don’t want to drive right up to the target. We’ll park on the main road to the east, then walk there. It should help us remain undetected. Me and another guy will move to the back to catch what we call squirters — really just a name for anyone trying to run. We’ll lock down the back of the house while the team enters from the front.”

Jennifer nodded absently, looking distinctly uncomfortable at how fast this was progressing.

“Relax,” I said. “Your job’s over. Don’t worry about us. We do this for a living.”

I heard the other men beginning to load the cars. “See you in a few minutes.”

She locked eyes with me, saying, “Please be careful. Let them do the hard stuff. Don’t do anything heroic. Don’t let Carlos blow you up.”

“Cut that shit out. You should be worrying about him.”

I started to get in our car when she grabbed me by the arm, “Pike, I’m serious. You might have nine lives, but you’ve been going through them like a chain-smoker. A life can only have so much luck. We’re both working on credit now. I can feel it. Promise you’ll be careful.”

I looked at her, realizing she was deeply worried.

“I’ll be careful. This’ll be all right. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she said, with a hint of a smile. “A little, anyway. It’s just that you’re acting different. I can’t put a finger on it, but it’s like you now think you’re invincible. You used to be an asshole about everything, sure it was failure. Now you act like this is all just a ride at Disneyland.”

“Hey, this is what I do. I’ve been killing terrorists a helluva lot longer than I’ve known you. Sorry if I get a kick out of it, but don’t tell me to go back to what I was. You don’t like it, I’m sorry. But this is who I am.”

She recoiled, and I knew I had missed the point. The hurt and pain in her expression reminded me of Heather the last night I had seen her. I remembered what I had said after Jennifer had thought Carlos was going to kill her in the hotel—It’s never just about you.

“Jennifer, listen to me. Carlos is about to kill a lot of people. We’re the only ones who can stop him. And I mean we are the only ones who can stop him. You and me. You saved my life, and I don’t mean just today. There’s got to be a reason for that. I don’t want to die any more than you do, but I’m the one that’s here, and I’m the one that’s got the skill to kill that asshole. You know I can’t promise nothing bad’s gonna happen, but if it does, you need to believe it was worth it. Okay?”

She sighed. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t do anything stupid. Please. Before you jump off of a building, remember you can’t fly. Can you do that? For me?”

“Sure. But you need a better analogy, because I can fly.”

“Smartass,” she said. “Good luck.”

98

The tech man got Lucas’s attention. “He’s right here in Sarajevo. About three klicks from the airport and moving east.”

About fucking time. He addressed the entire team. “Listen up. We aren’t going to do any fancy work over here. If we execute, it’ll be a simple frontal assault, but hopefully it won’t come to that. Mason’s team’s in-country, and presumably tracking Pike right now. The last thing I want to do is screw up an operation he’s already executing.”

One of the men cut in. “So we’re just backup for Mason?”