Dead Six

“Sir?”

“You heard me. My first inclination was to throw you in the brig for a couple weeks. Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that, and we’re too short on personnel. You will not jeopardize this mission. Another episode and I’ll send you home.”

I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. “Send me home?”

“Well, I’ll send you back to Gordon Willis. He’ll probably make you disappear. I doubt you’ll end up back wherever it is you came from. I’ve only sent one person back so far, and I don’t know what happened to him. If you follow orders until the project is over, you won’t have to find out. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Valentine?”

“Perfectly, sir,” I replied.

“Outstanding,” Hunter said.

“Sir, can you untie me now?”

“In a minute. Listen up. Your next mission is very important. So far, the project has been going well. Very well. We have the enemy running scared, and the rumors are flying. Many suspect Americans, but we’re too aggressive. Most think it’s the Israelis, or the emir’s secret police. The nice thing about shaking the bushes like that is that once in a while something good comes running out.”

“I’m not sure I follow you, sir.”

“We’ve been approached by a contact that wants to make a deal. She’s willing to exchange information for protection. We’re working on setting up the meeting now. The name she gave us is Asra Elnadi. We believe she’s a former partner of one of the local arms dealers, Jalal Hosani.”

“I’ve heard that name before.”

“Mr. Hosani is on our to-do list. He’s been running guns to anyone in the region with the cash to buy them. As a matter of fact, we think he provided most of the weapons you torched in Ash Shamal. But he’s not the issue right now. Our contact says she left Hosani to go work with one of his competitors, a Russian syndicate run by one Anatoly Federov. He’s on the list, too, and he’s higher up on it than Hosani. He’s not only running guns but is providing explosives and advisers. The training he offers is a lot better than the Iranians.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“It’s simple, really. She wants to meet with our people. She’ll divulge everything she knows about both Federov and Hosani if we get her out of the country.”

“Do you think she’s worth the trouble?”

“I do. So here’s what’s going to happen.” Colonel Hunter spent the next few minutes giving me a brief rundown of his mission plan. I listened intently, despite being in pain and having my hands tied behind my back.

It was simple enough. One of our people would meet Asra at a predetermined location. We’d screen her, make sure she checked out, and would then bring her to one of our safe houses. If she was legit, we’d get her out of the country. Hunter seemed reasonably confident that things would go smoothly, but operational experience had dulled my optimism somewhat.

Half an hour later, I left Hunter’s office and headed down the hall to the security office, rubbing the raw spots on my wrists where the zip ties had been. My head still ached, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed.

Conrad was sitting at a desk, clicking away at a laptop when I walked in. I spotted my .44 sitting on a shelf behind his desk. “I’m here for my gun,” I said simply. I really didn’t feel like having another conversation with this asshole.

Conrad didn’t look up from his screen. “Well, if it isn’t Doc Holliday looking for his big shootin’ iron.”

My head still throbbed, and I felt a surge of anger shoot through me. “Just give me my gun so I can go,” I said, stepping closer to Conrad’s desk.

“The colonel thinks you’re hot shit. That’s the only reason you didn’t end up in the Gulf,” Conrad said, grabbing my revolver from his shelf. “You know what I think?”

“I don’t really care,” I stated. “Just give me my gun.”

“I think you’re just a dumb kid who’s in way over his head,” Conrad said, pretending to examine my revolver. He then set it down on his desk with a clunk.

The muzzle was facing toward me as I grabbed the .44. As I stood up, I flipped the gun around in my hand and extended my arm. I aligned the sights on the bridge of Conrad’s nose. I’d had enough of these people.

I pulled the trigger.

Click! Conrad raised an eyebrow as the revolver’s hammer fell on an empty chamber. I pulled the gun in close to my chest and hit the cylinder release. The security man had unloaded it before giving it back to me. I could tell the moment I picked it up. Smart move on his part.

He put his hand on the butt of his gun. “You trying to scare me or something? I’m with the organization,” he sputtered, like I knew what he was talking about. “You’re a fucking temp. You’re nothing.”

“I’ll see you later, asshole,” I said. I holstered my gun, turned on a heel, and left the office.

I made my way downstairs and out the front door, almost crashing into Sarah as I stepped back into the heat. “Michael!” she said, seemingly unsure of what to say. “What happened to you?”

I almost laughed. “What happened? Hunter was ready to shoot me, that’s what happened!”

“Michael, I didn’t mean for—”

I cut her off. “No. Just stop. I learned a long time ago not to fish out of the company pond, and this is why. As soon as I piss you off, you run to the boss, and I get the shit kicked out of me. So just stay away from me, alright? I got a mission to plan.” I stepped around her and walked away, not looking back.

It took me a few minutes to get back up to my room. Sweat was trickling down my face by the time I made it to the third floor of the dorms, and I thought I was going to pass out. I locked the door behind me, cranked the air conditioner up, and sat down on my bed.

I noticed something shiny on the floor by the bathroom door. It had fallen out of the old Arabian puzzle box. The object was silver in color and had a silver chain attached to one end. I grabbed the chain and picked the trinket up.

It was roughly cylindrical, a few inches long and maybe as big around as a ballpoint pen. Surprisingly heavy, the object was intricately carved and looked as it if had many moving parts. It also looked very old. The top of the object, where the chain was attached, appeared to be a knob. I gently tried to rotate it to see if anything would happen.

To my surprise, the thing audibly clicked and more than a dozen tiny metal pins of varying lengths popped out of the shaft. Rotating the knob the other way caused the pins to disappear again.

I sat back down on my bed, playing with the trinket, wondering what it was. It seemed like a key of some kind, but that was only a guess on my part. Whatever the object was, it was still in my hand when I fell asleep.

I told myself it was a coincidence, but I had the most macabre, horrifying nightmares of my entire life.

LORENZO

April 16

I was wandering the local market when my cell phone buzzed. It was secure, encrypted, and not very many people had my number. Caller unknown. Glancing around, there was nobody close enough to eavesdrop, and there was enough background hum from the various vendors and customers that listening in would be difficult. Half the Arab world was on a cell phone at any given time anyway.

“I heard you were looking for me,” Jalal Hosani said, cutting right to the point. I had been trying to reach him all week. If anybody knew what was really going on, it would be the local neighborhood arms smuggler.

“I need some information.”

“As do I.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Are you involved in what has been happening?”

“Not my style. You know that.” I had the professional reputation of being a man of subtlety. “I was actually