Dead Six

general has proved an obstacle to that. General Al Sabah wants to be the Saddam Hussein of Zubara. He’s built a network of contacts and allies, from the Iranians to Al Qaeda. All of his allies don’t necessarily like each other now, but he apparently is able to keep them from killing each other long enough to focus on the Americans. Despite the emir’s efforts, Zubara remains a safe haven for terrorists. This is where they do their banking. This is where their families live. This is where they recruit. This is where they go on vacation.”

Hunter paused for a long time. “Gentlemen, I think you’re beginning to understand why such tight security has been necessary in this operation. What we’re doing here is radically unconventional. We’re running a major operation with a skeleton crew. You make up the bulk of our forces. We have the support of the emir and a few people loyal to him, but we’ll largely be on our own.”

“What exactly is our mission, sir?” that same redhead asked.

“We’re going to bring the war to their doorstep, son,” Hunter replied. “We can’t invade Zubara. It’s not diplomatically or militarily viable. In any case, any attempt to bring in Americans would probably result in a coup attempt against the emir, which would surely bring the country into civil war. The mission would be over before it began. So we’re doing things differently. It’s called Project Heartbreaker. After you get off this plane, you’re never to mention that name to anyone, ever. Anyway, through heavy use of human intelligence and years of planning, we’ve been able to track down a large number of bad people in Zubara. We know where these people live, where they work, and who they’re dealing with. We’re going to find them and kill them.”

“Is that it, sir? Go to Zubara and kill a few terrorists?”

“You, ginger,” Hunter said, pointing at the talkative redhead, “no more from you today. It’s a lot bigger than that.” “We’re bringing the war to their home front. The enemy will discover that there are no safe places, anywhere, for them to hide. Our small operational group is going to try something that’s never been tried. Gentlemen, welcome to Dead Six.”

Tailor and I looked at each other, grinning. Despite my trepidation about my new employers, I liked where this was going. I returned my attention to Colonel Hunter and his briefing.

I had been in a deep sleep when someone pushed me on the shoulder. I sat up quickly, having been startled awake. I was in the window seat and had been leaning against the fuselage of the plane, using my jacket for a pillow. I looked to my right. Tailor was nowhere to be seen. The cabin was darkened, most of the window shades were pulled down, and it seemed that almost everyone was asleep. Sitting next to me was Sarah McAllister.

“What is it?” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“Hey.” She sounded almost awkward. “I, uh, wanted to thank you, for, you know, standing up.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I mean—”

She cut me off. “But I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to come galloping to the rescue.”

“I saw that. You clocked him pretty good.”

“I used to play hockey,” she said. “When I was in high school.”

“Seriously? Me, too.”

“That’s great,” Sarah said flatly. “Listen. I know you and the others were trying to help, but you have to let me handle things or I won’t get any respect around here. Does that make sense?”

It made a lot of sense, actually. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I just . . . it just happened, you know? I didn’t really think about it.”

“I know. I’m not trying to be a bitch or sound ungrateful, but there are four women here in the middle of all of you guys.”

“You probably had wieners thrown at you from day one.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. “You have no idea.”

“I didn’t do that to get in your pants, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I was being honest with her about that, too. Of course, I had no objections to getting in her pants, either.

Sarah smiled. “The funny thing is, I actually believe you. You know . . .” Sarah’s voice trailed off and she leaned in close to me, squinting quizzically. I pulled back a little bit, not sure what she was doing. “Holy crap,” she said, still too close to my face. “Your eyes are different colors.”

This always makes me self-conscious. My left eye is blue. My right eye is brown. People usually react like that when they first notice. “Yes, they are.”

“Are you wearing contacts or something?”

“No, I’m not.” I gently pushed her back a little bit, out of my personal space. “I was born like that. It’s called heterochromia.”

“That’s so weird,” she said absentmindedly. “I’m sorry.” Then she grinned. “I’ll get out of your face now. I’ll see you later, Valentine.” Sarah touched me on the shoulder as she stood up and left the seat. I shook my head slightly and smiled.

LORENZO

February 5

Terrorist mastermind Ali bin Ahmed Al Falah sat across from me in the smoke-filled room. His guards watched me suspiciously. “Goat-fucker,” he spat as my rook took his knight.

“Indeed,” I replied as I pretended to study the board. For somebody who was supposed to be so damn nefarious, Falah sucked at chess. It was more challenging to put up a good match and then let him win than it was to actually play somebody good. And I didn’t even like chess. “Your turn.”

“Your mother was a whore, Khalid.” Falah twirled the end of his bushy white beard. He looked vaguely like a Wahhabi Santa Claus as he contemplated his next move. I had left myself dangerously exposed and he could have checkmate in two, but apparently Falah was only strategic when it came to financing suicide bombings.

I had gotten to know Falah rather well over the last few months. As the new landlord of his social club, it had of course been necessary for me to meet my most prestigious customer. It had turned out that Khalid and Falah had a whole bunch in common and had become friends. Falah had taken a liking to my character and had taken Khalid under his jihadi wing.

Falah, wanted by both the Americans and the Mossad, was staying in Zubara, effectively out of their reach. Neither nation was willing to take official action in the tiny country right now, as perceived foreign involvement would only weaken the besieged pro-Western emir in the eyes of the populace. The old man talked a big game about sacrificing for the cause but had no desire to become a martyr himself.

There was a loud noise from downstairs in the social club, and one of the guards, an angry young man by the name of Yousef, went to check it. Falah always traveled with an entourage. Terrorists are kind of like rappers that way. Hell, his personal vehicle was a ridiculous yellow Hummer H2. It sounds ostentatious, but it wasn’t really that odd in a country where this much oil money was flowing.

“Have you thought about what I suggested yesterday?” I asked.

He looked up, playing coy. “About the missiles?”

I nodded. “Yes. Remember, I am new to this, but I want to do anything in my power to help the cause. I do not mean to pry, but I believe our warriors could use the weapons.”

“Ah, my young friend, I appreciate such enthusiasm,” Falah laughed. “Of course, surface-to-air missiles would be incredibly valuable in the jihad against the American barbarians murdering our brothers.”

I smiled. It was incredibly difficult to not ram my thumbs through the old man’s eye sockets and wrench his miserable skull from his shoulders. It was even more difficult to pretend to be his buddy. The man I was playing a friendly game with was responsible for blowing up churches, businesses, and schools. I had no problem with killing, but I tried to keep my killing limited to scum like Al Falah. “Yes, of course.”

Falah made his move. We had been playing chess together several times a week for months now. Occasionally he got one right. He leaned back and gestured proudly at what he had done. I barely noticed. “Ha. Get out of that.”

“Hmm . . .” I made a big show of puzzling over his latest strategy. Inside I was praying that he was going to go for my offer of a meeting with the fictional arms dealers. The entire thing was totally fabricated. If he was stupid and greedy enough that he went for the deal, then it enabled me to end his pathetic life early and utilize his