then looked in.
The American lay in his blood, his hands and feet bound behind him. Lyons glanced at the interior of the room, actually a janitor's closet with sink and cabinets for cleaning supplies. Going to one knee, Lyons felt the prisoner's throat for a pulse; he found it.
Blood was clotting at the captive's mouth. The Agency man still breathed. Lyons examined his wounds by the glow of a penlight and saw huge bruises. He saw cuts and broken teeth and eyes, swollen shut. He saw the marks of shoes and boots on the man's face.
Lyons cut the ropes and carefully unwound them around the man's blue hands. Lyons laid the American on his back and checked his body all over. Boot marks and the ovals of AK butts marked the man's chest and back.
'You're okay now,' Lyons whispered. 'Just hold on. We'll get you out of here. Can you talk? Can you hear me? I'm an American, we've come to get you out.'
Jake Newton struggled to open his eyes. Lyons continued speaking quietly, soothingly. 'You'll be all right; you look okay; we're getting you out of here.'
Turning on his side, Newton vomited blood, retched again and again.
Lyons keyed his hand radio. 'Wizard, get on your radio, call the embassy, the Air Force, whoever. Our man's alive, but he's bleeding inside. He's been kicked and beaten all to bits.'
One of Newton's bloody hands gripped Lyons's arm. A tortured voice croaked, 'Thanks… thanks…'
'We got help on the way.' Lyons turned to Abdul. 'Stay with him.'
Running up the stone steps, Lyons saw the Libyan radio operator tied hand and foot on the walkway. Inside the office, Gadgets had set up his radio and autorecorder beside the terrorists' American equipment.
'I got the leader,' Gadgets laughed. 'It worked. He radioed here, I recorded it…'
'You got the medics coming?' Lyons demanded.
'On their way. And the colonel's got the news on...'
'Tell me later.' Lyons rushed to the commander's office.
Blancanales was working on the Egyptian's wounds, packing a field dressing against the ripped and punctured flesh of the terror leader's gut. His partner looked up as Lyons entered.
'Is the Agency man okay?'
'He's alive.' Lyons stooped down to examine the tips of Commander Omar's mirror-polished boots.
'What're you doing?'
Clotted blood and some flesh clung to the boot tips. Lyons wiped his finger across the crevice where the boot's upper joined the sole. Flesh came away. Lyons's voice went cold. 'Those tourniquets tight?'
'Tight, man. He'll make it.'
20
Striding from the United States Embassy, Katz paced to his limousine. A light wind blew dust and diesel smoke from the boulevards, which were already crowded. The limo driver slept behind the wheel. Across the grounds, guards at the gates saw Katz and watched as the diplomat knocked on the driver's window.
The driver was startled awake. He pressed the button powering down the window. 'Yes, Mr. Steiner?'
'Airport!'
'Yes, sir.'
Parks ran from the embassy and jerked at one of the limo's doors. The driver pressed another button to unlock the doors for Katz and Parks.
In seconds, the limousine raced through the gates and accelerated into the morning traffic.
Snapping open his briefcase, Katz keyed the code for Gadgets's radio. 'Mr. Wizard! Sadek's running for the airport. There's a Syrian plane there waiting for him.'
Gadgets's voice answered. Auto weapons popped in the background. 'That's your problem.'
'What's the firing?'
'We're defending the fortress of the National Liberation Front. Some squads out there know where we are.'
'You need help?'
'Nan. We got minefields, barbed wire, ten-foot-high walls. We got a few prisoners for you, but don't count on many. Mr. Allah in the sky better start some expansion plans, 'cause there's gonna be a crowd arriving in Paradise today. You going to get that Sadek dude or what?'
'I'll ask Mr. Parks.' Katz turned to the Agency executive. 'Can we stop him? Your friend Sadek?'
'Keep your sarcasm. I was wrong. I admit it. He fooled the Egyptians and he fooled the embassy. It took him ten years to gain the position he held. He must have had a total fanatical devotion to his cause.'
'You didn't answer me.'
Parks shook his head. 'That's not a question I can answer. It's up to the Egyptians. We've called the officials who can order the flight stopped, but it's too early in the morning — they're not at their offices. Their aides will need to call their homes, and you know how the Cairo phone system is. I don't think we'll get the authorization. However, we will start negotiations for his extradition from Syria. We have, unfortunately, very limited diplomatic influence with that government.'
Katz interrupted Parks by pressing the radio's transmit. 'The Agency says they can't do anything,' he told Schwarz. 'Maybe I can arrange a solution.'
'Like what?' Parks demanded. 'Call your men to shoot up the airport? Assault the plane? Haven't they created enough chaos?'
'I heard that,' Gadgets butt in. 'Ask that goof which side he works for.'
Katz laughed. 'You know who he works for. How much damage did you do? Is the group gone?'
'Not really. We didn't get all of them in the city. And we didn't get all of them out here. If you want to do us a favor, arrange a ship to take us out of Cairo — we don't want to risk an Air Force plane; still too many of those crazies out there with SAM-7s. And when's that helicopter gonna get here? Jake Newton here is hurting. And the number one terrorist is hurting even worse. Ironman did a number on that dude.'
'The helicopter has already left,' Parks told Katz.
'On its way, Wizard.'
'And so is Sadek, I guess,' Gadgets commented. 'Too bad that big one got away.'
'Not yet,' Katz told him. 'Not yet.'
Hurtling along the highway at a hundred miles an hour, Katz's car sped past the few cars and trucks leaving the city. Parks used the limo's radio phone to communicate with agents at the airport.
'They've delayed the Syrians,' Parks told Katz. 'But it's up to the Egyptian government to stop them.'
'Will they stop the flight?'
'There's been no response to our requests yet. Sadek usually handled those things…'
As the limousine screeched to a smoking-tire stop, Katz and Parks threw open the doors and dashed into the international airport's drab terminal, Parks ahead of the limping Katz. Shoving through tourists and porters, they crossed the reception area. At the door leading to the administrative and technical areas, a guard stopped them.
Katz told the guard in Arabic that terrorists threatened the jets in the air over the airport. The guard called a supervisor.
Taking his hand radio from his jacket, Parks issued a call to all the agents.
The supervisor arrived. He saw Parks, smiled. 'Gentlemen, how can I help you?'
'Terrorists,' Katz told the supervisor in English. 'The American Embassy received a threat against the international flights.'
'Oh! Why weren't we told? Why haven't...'
'Take us to the control tower immediately!' Katz slipped past the Egyptians and strode toward the elevator.
Parks nodded to the supervisor and the two men followed Katz.
