The radio sputtered back, “Affirmative. En route to beta point.”
“Copy.” Steve tossed the radio back to the console and leaned back. “No fatalities. I’d call that a good day.”
Jay grunted as the van weaved through traffic and made its way to the rendezvous point. Once the vehicles had been ditched and torched, they’d make their way to the warehouse where they intended to hold al-Abadi.
Teplov pulled into the abandoned yard just as Jay finished pouring the diesel fuel onto the vehicles. “I can watch over this while you make your escape.” He reached for the lighter.
“The first sound of response vehicles, lights out. Make your way to the warehouse.”
Marcus stepped forward. “I’ll watch from the street. Hurry up and get out of here.”
Jay clapped the man on the back then turned for the old 4X4 truck they had stashed the previous day. “Keep his head down.” He pointed to Jim and Deric, who held al-Abadi below the line of site of the rear windows.
“I demand to know—” Muhammed exclaimed just before Deric jabbed a pointed finger into his solar plexus, shutting him up.
“You’ll speak when we tell you.” He pushed the man harder into the floor of the truck as Jay started the engine and pulled out onto the deserted street.
The men rode in silence as Jay navigated the industrial part of the city. He pulled the truck into the parking area of the warehouse they had chosen and Bobby jumped out to open the large, sliding doors. He waited for the truck to clear, then shut them.
Jim and Steve were pulling al-Abadi from the back floor of the truck as Deric placed a metal chair in front of of four spotlights that were set up in the middle of the warehouse. The pair unceremoniously dumped their captive into the chair then cut his flexcuffs. They reattached his hands to the arms of the chair with fresh zip-ties. Jim nodded to Deric, who flipped on the lights. When he was certain that al-Abadi couldn’t identify the men, he pulled the hood from his face and watched as the man squinted his eyes and tried to turn his face from the searing whiteness.
“W-what do you want with me? I am just a simple man. I have no—”
“You’re a terrorist and an arms dealer. We both know that is true.” Jay shouted from behind the lights. He stepped into the circle and allowed himself to be silhouetted, his face in shadows. “My question is, why would the Americans want to assassinate you?”
Langley, VA
“AL-ABADI’S CAR DIDN’T go to the demonstration.” Darren Chesterfield looked up at the harried agent who stood in the doorway shaking a piece of paper at him. “We have confirmation that his Range Rover went to the other side of town.”
Chesterfield was already at his wits end trying to find another “patriot” to set up for the carnage that was about to ensue. “What do you mean he didn’t go to the demonstration?” He pushed away from the table and walked to the door. He spun suddenly and pointed a finger at the other people still working. “Do not stop! This needs to happen yesterday.”
The agent in the doorway handed him the printout and Chesterfield pushed past him and to the data acquisition center. He threw the door open and stood at the top of the dais. “I need satellite coverage of Karachi. Now!”
The men and women working silently at their computers paused and gave him blank stares. “You’re not authorized to—”
“We have a level one operation in place now and I need that intel!” Chesterfield took the short stairs in one long stride and approached the man’s station. “Get me that real-time view now!”
The man gave him a pursed lip stare then turned and punched his access code back into his keyboard. “Do you have coordinates?”
Darren thrust the sheet of paper in his face and let the man copy the information. “If you already have an action report I don’t see why you need a real view from the satellite.”
“I need to verify!” Darren looked around the room excitedly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to calm down.
“If the op is currently in motion, shouldn’t you be in the operation’s center with the rest of the handlers?”
Chesterfield lowered his mouth to the technician’s ear and whispered, “This is a stand-alone, classified operation. Nobody is monitoring the activity. Now find me this fucking car!”
The man shook his head nervously and punched at the keyboard as the video view continued to focus in tighter. They found the area where the Rover was last spotted then widened the search. Darren reached across the man and pointed to the mouse. “Bring up the traffic cams, ATMs, anything you can to find this car.”
“I take it you don’t know where it went?” The man knew better than to ask, but opened the new computer window and began hacking the nearby cameras.
“Just find me that fucking car.” Chesterfield pulled a chair up and sat behind the technician. “As quick as you can.” He rolled the chair to the side and picked up the telephone on his desk. “Get me Colonel Nelson.”
Karachi, Pakistan
MAMOON-UR-RASHEED couldn’t help but smile as he and Tariq sold smaller flags to the people who worked their way past his shop. He had placed a large placard outside claiming that all Western flags were half price and they were leaving his store front by the dozens.
He turned to Tariq and gave him a broad smile. “This is going to be a very good day.”
Sameer and Balil walked back into the front room and Sameer wiped the sweat from his forehead. “All of al-Abadi’s flags are loaded and being delivered.” He plopped into the chair opposite of Mamoon’s desk and sighed. “All of that work, up in smoke.”
“That is what we do, Sameer.” Balil lit a cigarette and sat down at
