“Okay,” Kealey said. Without warning, he pulled his right arm back and slammed a fist into the Algerian’s face. The man went instantly limp, and Kealey sat back on his haunches, trying to figure out his next move. As the adrenaline worked its way out of his system, reality began to kick in. With a sense of despair, he realized they were in an impossible situation. Ghafour would be dead in less than five minutes, perhaps as little as two. They had no way out of the trailer, and if Ramirez had any sense at all, he would have pulled the teams out the second Petain called him with the bad news. Thinking about Petain, Kealey stood and turned to face her. He was surprised to find her on the phone, as he hadn’t heard it ring. She had a finger in one ear to block out the shouted commands of the CNP officers, and she was nodding quickly, her eyes wide, sharp, and completely alert. A moment later she said, “I got it,” and hit the END button. When she lowered the phone to her side, Kealey looked at her inquiringly.
“That was Kharmai.”
“What did she say?”
“She’s going to try and get us out of here.”
CHAPTER 18
MADRID
After they had pulled onto San Leonardo de Dios, Ramirez had managed to find a parking spot right on the road. The gate that Kealey and Petain had first entered was about 40 meters in front of the van, and the street farther down was partially blocked off by a pair of CNP vehicles. The light racks on both were flashing blue, but the sirens were off. A number of pedestrians had gathered around, and Naomi knew it was only a matter of time before more police units arrived on the scene. The demonstration on the Puerta del Sol would slow the response time, but not by much. They had to move immediately.
Ramirez was saying something to her through the hole in the partition, and she shifted her attention toward him. “What did you say?”
“I said, ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ I heard you talking to Petain, and there’s no way you’re going in there, Kharmai. I’m not going to let you fuck up my career as well.” He leaned forward to start the engine. “I’m done with this shit. We’re out of here.”
“No!” Kharmai adjusted her awkward stance, drew her Glock, and aimed it through the gap in the metal. The muzzle was level with the other operative’s astonished face.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he rasped, his dark eyes fixed on the end of the barrel.
Naomi shifted her aim slightly to the right. She steadied herself before she spoke, determined to make him believe. For this to work, there could be no doubt in his mind that she’d pull the trigger.
“Ramirez, there’s an alley just ahead on your right. I want you to start the van and pull it inside.”
“Or what?”
“Or I fire through the windshield. There are still two officers in those cars up ahead. They’re both behind the wheel. If I shoot, they’ll be on us in less than a minute.”
“You would do that? You would fuck us both?”
“Yes. If I have to, I will. Absolutely.” She looked at him hard, hoping he couldn’t see past her rigid, unyielding facade. Hoping her hands weren’t shaking too much. Hoping he couldn’t detect the cold flash of fear and nausea that had just swept through her body.
“Start the van.”
Ramirez shook his head in disbelief, but he did as he was told. The vehicle rumbled to life, and he dropped it into gear. Naomi kept her gun at arm’s length until they were in the alley and parked. Then she turned and opened the sliding door. Closing it behind her, she circled the vehicle and approached the driver’s-side door carefully from the rear, hoping he wouldn’t try to back up in the confined space. There wasn’t much room between the left side of the Toyota and the redbrick walls, and if he decided to make a run for it, she would almost certainly be crushed. She realized she should have taken the keys, but it was too late for that now. Once she reached the open window, she aimed her gun in at Ramirez. She wasn’t surprised in the least to see that he was holding a weapon as well, the muzzle aimed across his body, directly toward her head.
“What now?” he asked. His dark, unwavering eyes were fixed on hers. “You shoot me, I shoot you . . . We both end up dead. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t want to kill you,” she said. Her stomach felt as if it had been pulled out, shaken hard, then put back in. She could feel sweat on her face and beneath her T-shirt. It felt cold, despite the heat of the afternoon. In fact, it felt as if her entire body had just been submerged in a pool of freezing water. “Just get out and walk away. That’s all I’m asking.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Ramirez held her gaze for a moment longer, debating his options.
Then he nodded and pushed open the door. She stepped back and tracked him with her weapon as he walked to the end of the alley. He turned and gave her one last look before disappearing into the crowds sweeping by on the sidewalk.
Naomi instantly shoved the Glock under the waistband of her jeans, the grip flat against the right side of her stomach. Then she lifted the lower edge of her T-shirt to wipe the sweat from her face. A sudden wave of nausea caused her to bend at the waist. She kept one hand on the van’s rear bumper for support and stayed that way for twenty seconds, trying to empty her stomach, but nothing came up. She shuddered, a low, involuntary moan rising up in her throat. Then she straightened and leaned against the rear doors, considering her next move, straining to think through the haze that enveloped her mind. The sound of another siren broke her concentration. It was the last thing she wanted to hear, but she instantly factored it in. Turning her head to the right, she could tell the siren was coming from the same direction as the other cars. Thinking back to the maps they had studied the previous night, she recalled that the closest CNP station was to the north, which made sense, given what she was hearing. She lifted her cell phone and stared at it blankly. She knew that Ryan would be expecting her to call any minute with a plan for getting them out of there, but her brain wasn’t working. What she needed was a way to distract the officers, to draw their attention away from the trailer. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do; Ryan and Petain would just have to figure it out from there. Taking a couple of steps away from the van, she quickly appraised her surroundings. The alley was empty except for a few battered dumpsters and a pile of empty boxes. Power lines ran the length of the wide corridor, the wooden poles wedged against the redbrick wall on either side. An advertisement for some type of Spanish beer was painted in bright colors on the uneven bricks to her right, just beneath the second-floor windows, most of which were open to the afternoon air. Farther down the alley, there was an open door, beyond which she could hear the sound of machinery and tinny music. There was a lot to take in, but nothing that could help her. She tried to focus on the noise coming from the open doorway. It was on the left, about 10 meters in front of her. As she moved closer, the sounds became more distinct: music playing over a portable stereo, someone laughing, the steady
She reached the doorway, edged closer, and peered into the shop. She pulled back instantly, her breath catching in her throat. There was a young man in coveralls right there, walking past the door. She was sure he had seen her, but the heavy footsteps seemed to recede, and after another twenty seconds, she looked in again. She didn’t see anyone this time, but when she took a few cautious steps into the bay, she heard voices coming from another door to her left. That was the store, she realized; the mechanic must have gone inside for some reason, maybe to answer a customer’s question, or perhaps to get a drink of water. Either way, she didn’t have a lot of time; he could return at any minute.
Naomi moved farther into the bay and looked around quickly, her heart pumping hard, every nerve on edge. There were two partially dismantled vehicles in the garage, and both bay doors were closed, blocking out the view of the street. There were windows on the upper parts of both doors, but both were extremely dirty. No one could see in, and she couldn’t see out. Shelves to her left were stocked with oil, dusty boxes of air filters, and bottles of
