Enemy of Mine

maintenance personnel inside the building. It had no apparent wiring leading to it, meaning the wiring was behind the speaker and ran inside the wall. He found a flat piece of scrap metal and jammed it under the plate. He levered the speaker away from the wall, pulling out a mess of spaghetti.

Not wanting to shock himself, he identified the power line, then the wire used to transmit from the speaker. He separated the two, then gave a hard yank to the speaker wire, drawing out three feet. He began pulling hand over hand until he had no slack.

He glanced back at the elevator shaft. Still not enough.

He looped the wire around his hands and jerked with all of his might, the wire slicing into the fleshy part of his palm. He tried a second time and fell backward as the anchor gave way.

Several minutes later, he had the detonator separated from the explosives by about thirty meters of speaker wire. He affixed the detonator to the wall between the elevators and powered it up. He saw the flash of red, then a steady green. He wiped his brow and hurried to the exit door.

He swiped Hamid’s key card, opened the door, and took the stairs up two at a time. He slowed as his head crested the top of the stairwell. He surveyed the drive to the mall parking garage and froze, his stomach clenching.

The black man he had tried to kill was walking toward him, another man at his side.

59

Knuckles shut off the van and pointed at the hooded man from the souk. “We going to leave him behind like we did Lucas?”

Getting Jennifer’s voice mail one more time, I stabbed the keypad and hung up. “No. You’re going back to the hotel. I can’t get Jennifer. Something’s wrong. Get over to the hotel and find her.”

He started to say something, and my phone rang. I stabbed the call button and heard Blaine. Dammit. Where is she? I listened, then said, “We’re there now, and I can see limos roped off. What the hell’s going on? Why did they come here?”

On the other end of the phone, Blaine said, “Pike, we didn’t get to them in time. We had too many layers to go through to get the phone number. We have it now, but it goes straight to voice mail.”

“Call someone else. There are three limousines here. Someone’s got their phone on.”

“They all go to voice mail. We don’t know why. Maybe the building is shielding the signal or something, but the bottom line is we didn’t get the warning to them.”

So much for doing this slow and methodical.

“How long are they going to be in there?”

“Less than ten minutes on the upper deck. The clock’s ticking right now. What’re your courses of action?”

“Shit, sir, I have no idea what trap he’s built. He’s been all over the damn building planting explosives. It’s going to take time to get to the maintenance room on the upper floors. It’s above the observation deck. On top of that, he apparently placed explosives in the basement as well.”

Blaine said, “What can I do? What do you need?”

“I need someone to tell them to stay out of the damn elevators!”

I calmed down and continued. “I’d like to target the Ghost because I’m sure he’s going to command detonate whatever he’s got, but we don’t know where he is. I have no doubt he’s around here, but I can’t waste the time looking. Second COA is to enter the building and see if we can render safe whatever trap he’s laid, but it’s the basement only. I have no idea if that’ll be enough. Brett and Decoy are headed there right now.”

“What’s the risk to the force? Can you protect them?”

I watched Brett and Decoy cross the street, both carrying a small duffel bag full of tools. “No,” I said, “there’s no way I can mitigate the risk without the Ghost.”

Blaine said something else, but I was no longer listening. A man with a Burj Khalifa maintenance uniform had just popped out of the bushes. Wearing thick glasses. Right next to the basement entrance.

The Ghost ducked back into the stairwell, considering his options. Clearly, it was no coincidence that the black man was here. It was because of the envoy. The only mystery was how they’d penetrated his plan. They hadn’t followed him here, or he would have been interrupted installing the phone numbers and arming the detonators.

It must be the building itself. They don’t know I’m here.

They weren’t looking for him. They were looking for his trap. He couldn’t let them explore for any length of time. He hadn’t placed any booby traps around his explosives, and they could be disarmed fairly easily.

He thought about hiding in the basement and attacking them, but didn’t like the odds. Two on one would be hard to pull off. Somehow, he had to prevent them from entering the basement. But he had nothing. No way to distract them. No means of pulling them from their goal.

Except for myself.

It hit home that he would be irresistible bait. They were following me earlier. They know what I look like. He could prevent them from stopping the attack, but he would be caught. Chained and tortured, then killed. He wouldn’t be able to utilize his false jihadi website group to claim credit. Wouldn’t be able to put the Palestinian cause on the world stage. He would be walking to his death.

He peeked over the top and saw the men were less than seventy meters away. If he waited any longer, he would be trapped anyway. He jumped up and grabbed the railing on the left side of the stairwell. Swiftly scrambling over it, he hid in the shrubbery beyond.

He thought again about his options, but came up blank. It was either him or failure. He felt a sadness seep inside. He steeled himself, shaking off the melancholy. He would need to remain out of their grasp for several minutes, leading them on a chase. From there, it would be up to Allah. Maybe he could get them to kill him here, before they started in on the torture.

He kept his eyes on the two men, waiting until just before they reached the stairwell. When he was certain they would sense his movement, he slipped over the side, walking behind them at a fast pace, purposely scuffing his shoes.

60

I dropped my phone and keyed the radio. “Brett, Decoy, turn around. The Ghost is behind you. Look behind you!”

I saw them whip around, then the man take off running. He circled around the back side of the building, running along a promenade that fronted a giant artificial lake.

Knuckles was already out of the van, waiting for me to give him the word, unleashing the hounds as it were. Instead, I said, “No, you go to Jennifer. Go get her. We’ll handle this.”

He gave me a sour look, not liking at all that he’d be sitting out the chase, but he nodded and moved back to the door.

I took off at a sprint, panting into my radio, “Hit him with the EMP gun. Take out any electronics on his body.”

I was about seventy meters behind the target and forty meters behind Brett and Decoy. Brett was pulling away, running like a linebacker for the end zone. Moving at astonishing speed.

The Ghost flipped a glance over his shoulder, and I was close enough to see the shock on his face when he saw Brett closing the gap. He veered toward the water, and Decoy took a knee, aiming the EMP gun.

I saw him track the target all the way to the water’s edge, presumably firing his body full of electromagnetic pulses. Hopefully scrambling whatever remote detonation mechanism he had.

The Ghost cleared the railing and dove into the lake right at the juncture of a false stream. He started swimming to the far side, looking like a child who had fallen out of a Disney ride, a dark cork in the impossibly blue