Jeff reached for the glass and poured another double. “He told me. Here, take your medicine and try to relax. I’ve got people monitoring every source for—”
“We got something!” Both men turned to see another man’s head poking in from the rear office door. “It’s not good.”
“How ‘not good’ are we talking?” Jeff asked as he came to his feet.
“They’re outing Bridger and the rest of them to local authorities and ISI.”
“Wait. Who’s that?” Roger asked, following Jeff to the back room.
“ISI is the Inter-Services Intelligence. Think of them as the Pakistani Secret Service.” Jeff gave him a solemn look. “It’s not good.”
“Holy…I gotta warn the guys.” Roger sat his bourbon down and walked back to the main office. He picked up the phone and began dialing the number that Jay had given him.
Jeff settled in next to the man with the report and scanned the computer screens. “Oh no…” He exhaled hard and stared at the images of Bobby Bridger and BYI’s personnel. “Whoever is behind this didn’t just out them, they signed their death warrants.”
Jeff pushed away from the desk and walked back out to the main office. He pulled the phone from Roger’s hand and pressed it to his ear. “Who’s this?”
“Viktor,” Teplov’s heavily accented voice echoed through the phone. “Tell Jay to check his mail. I’m faxing over the alert.” Jeff looked to Roger and shook his head. “It’s worse than bad.”
“Understood.” Teplov covered the phone while Gregg yelled at him. “They are saying that Mister Wallace needs to return to the States. The data that he retrieved for them can only be opened on their computers.”
Jeff lowered the phone. “They can only access the rest of the files using their computers. Where did your data originate?”
Roger stammered a moment then muttered, “I got it from a secure Homeland system.” His eyes met Jeff’s and he watched the man pale.
“You boys are gonna have to give it up or break into Langley.”
Teplov cursed and relayed the message. A moment later he came back and told Jeff to send Roger ahead, the team would follow when they could. Teplov hung up the phone and Jeff snapped his fingers at one of the men in the back room. “We need to arrange transport for Agent Wallace here.”
“Wait. What?” Roger’s eyes pleaded with him. “You don’t understand. Somebody has me marked for—”
“You’re safer there than here. At least there you know the language and hopefully have some resources that you can utilize to keep one step ahead of whoever has you targeted until the team can get clear and follow you.” Jeff nodded to the man at the computer station. “Cook up some fake IDs for this guy and get him out of country now.”
“Wait…I can’t just…I gotta tell the guys that—”
“I’ll tell the crew what’s happening. It’s safer if you’re gone.” He pulled Roger aside. “You keep your ass alive once you hit home turf. If the guys can’t get out of here, they may well need you to tell their story to whoever will listen.”
“Nobody is going to believe me. I’m just an FBI agent.”
“If this situation doesn’t improve rikki-fucking-tick, you may be their only hope.” Jeff pulled a shemagh from the top of the file cabinet and wrapped Roger’s head. “Don’t show your face until you have to.”
“I got him a private hop to Orlando.” The tech handed Jeff a fake passport and ID. “You are now Dr. Joseph Blanke from Miami.” The tech smiled at him. “I made you a proctologist.”
Roger groaned as Jeff shoved the documents into his shirt pocket. “Stop sweating it, Doc. It’s not like anybody is going to ask you for a freebie in flight.”
“You’re not funny.”
“If they do, tell them you broke your finger.” Jeff shot him a sly grin. “Grab a coat. You got a plane to catch.”
Karachi, Pakistan
BRIDGER STARED OUT of the tinted windows as the team made their way farther from the city center and away from the black wall of smoke. Jay turned from the front seat and caught his attention. “Jeff sent us the GPS for a company safe house. It’s just a few clicks east of here.”
Bridger gave him a barely perceptible nod. He had tuned out the sobbing rants of al-Abadi and nearly jumped from the truck before the man calmed enough that he wasn’t bellowing.
Bridger’s mind kept replaying the events as they occurred. How had he allowed himself to be put into such a position in the first place? He’d always been so careful. He ground his teeth as he regretted allowing Roger to talk him into taking the contract job. If only.
“There.” Jay pointed to a two story mud brick building with a wall around it. “He said it used to be a hotel.”
“I’ve got signal,” Gregg announced as they pulled to the front of the building. “You guys should see the pictures they chose for us. They’re not flattering.”
“Move the trucks to the rear. See if there’s someplace we can stow them out of sight.” Jay grabbed his bag then pulled al-Abadi from the rear seat. “I’m gonna get this asshole settled in and we’ll figure out our next play.”
“Our next play should be to get the hell out of country,” Steve announced as he hefted the larger bags from the rear. “We’re burned here, man. They’ll have ISI on us before we know what hit us.”
“They have to find us first,” Jim said as he hefted the large containers holding their electronics. “I doubt they’ll be looking at any agency safe houses.”
“They will if they figure out our connection to Jeff,” Deric added. “Face it guys, we’ve been out of the government game too long. Our resources are limited.”
Viktor pulled his Dragunov rifle from the rear of the truck and tossed it up onto the cover over the porch. “I’ll keep lookout from the roof.” He checked his radio then shimmied up the pole.
Bridger pulled his
