The pair half pulled, half dragged their boss out and into the parking lot. “I have heard the news. They are blaming Muhammed al-Abadi for all of this.”
“al-Abadi?” Mamoon stared at Sameer. “This cannot be.”
“Yes, Mamoon, it can be.” Balil barked. “Think about it. He arranged the protest. He offered to pay the people to attend. He purchased the flags from us and he must have been the one to poison them.” Balil pointed to the horizon. “It was his weapon’s plant that burned. The smoke from it was laced with the gas he created and intended to sell. It killed thousands, Mamoon. Including Tariq!”
Mamoon shook his head. “I’ve known Muhammed for years. He could never…”
“He did!” Sameer barked. He pulled Mamoon around and glared at him. “I want his head!”
“But…but, Muhammed? He sells arms. He does not create them.” Mamoon argued to deaf ears.
“He is responsible. Everyone is looking for him. They even say that he hired mercenaries to protect him.” Balil spat at the ground.
“Why would he not show up to his own protest?” Sameer asked, his eyes red with unshed tears. “He always shows up so that he can get his face on the cameras. But not this time?”
Mamoon shook his head rapidly. “I do not see how the two are—”
“It was HIM!” Balil screamed. “He killed Tariq and all of the others.” He punched the pole next to them and ignored the pain radiating up his arm. “He poisoned the very flags we created for him and he used his own chemical weapon plant to kill off thousands more.”
“But why?” Mamoon asked. “That makes no sense. Why would he risk everything to kill his own people?”
“Money, Mamoon! He kills his own and blames somebody else. That brings more to his cause!” Sameer barked. “With more fighters come more weapons. He is a greedy bastard and has stooped to new levels to make money.”
Mamoon blew his breath out hard and shook his head. “This is too complex to be Muhammed. He would never risk his people, even to make a rupie.”
“You are a fool, Mamoon.” Balil sneered at him. “Even al Jazeera is proclaiming al-Abadi as the one responsible.”
“What does Muhammed say?” Mamoon asked. “Surely, if he is responsible, he would lay claim to this…cowardly act.”
“He is in hiding.” Sameer croaked, his voice cracking. “Everyone is looking for him. Including his own people.”
“ISI has a bounty on him.” Balil glared at Mamoon. “You knew him. Where would he go?”
Mamoon stared at the pair open mouthed. “I knew him, but not well. If his own people are searching for him, surely they will find him first.”
“I want him,” Balil growled. “He is responsible for Tariq. I will have blood.”
Somewhere Above the Atlantic
ROGER TRIED TO sit quietly by himself on the flight home but the satellite television in front of him kept replaying the attack in Karachi. He slipped his headphones on and listened to the English translation of al-Jazeera.
As he listened to the death count slowly increase with each replay, he felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced to the side to ensure that he was still alone. He glanced at the alerts and felt the color drain from his face.
International BOLO for Bobby Bridger, Jay Wolf, Deric Bundy, Jim McDougall, Gregg Soares, Steve Gibson and Viktor Teplov…believed to be harboring Muhammed al-Abadi, wanted for questioning in regards to the explosion of a bioweapons plant located in Karachi, Pakistan…
Roger groaned as he attached the alert to an email and sent it directly to Bridger and Wolf. The guys may be laying low, but surely one of them would see it. If they didn’t know before how deep they were in the shit, now they would.
He fought the urge to call Jeff Greenberg and inquire to their status. He knew that any contact at this point would only be one more way to tie him and all of the others to the shitstorm.
Roger leaned back in his seat and tried to block out the excited reporting on the television. He still had a long flight and wanted nothing more than to be on the ground with the guys. Even if it meant that none of them ever came home again.
20
Orlando International Airport, FL
AS SOON AS the plane touched down Roger was at the door and ready to make his way out of the airport. He felt his phone vibrate and he quickly checked the caller ID.
“Tell me you’re okay.” Roger couldn’t hide the worry from his voice.
“For now, we’re good. We’re about to secure transport and we’ll make our way to the airport.”
Roger could tell that there was something more. “And?”
“And I hate to ask you this, but I need you to work your way north to Langley.”
“You have GOT to be shitting me!” Roger quickly glanced around and noted a few pairs of curious eyes staring at him. “Medical emergency at the…um…proctology lab.” He gave the curious onlookers a crooked smile.
“I wish I were, but we have to get inside. Gregg says that their computers are air gapped. The only way to access them is to physically be there.”
“You want to break into the single most secure location on the planet?” Roger lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Are you insane?”
“We’re already wanted for something we didn’t do.” Bobby smiled as he spoke. “We might as well do something to deserve their attention.”
“You are absolutely nuts, you know that don’t you?”
“I didn’t say it would be easy. But we have a plan.” Roger heard him cover the phone and speak to somebody else. When he returned, he could almost hear the laughter in his voice. “Gregg is going to send you the details. We just need you to do a little recon for us.”
“Sure! Why not?” Roger ducked low and covered the phone while he spoke. “We’re all going to prison,
