When he walked into the colonel’s office, the man had his nose buried in something that, apparently, was more important. He didn’t lift his head as he waved the younger agent inside.
When Darren stood at the end of his desk, the colonel lowered the file in his hand and gave him a questioning look. “I understand you were visited by a certain FBI agent last night?”
Darren’s face twisted and he stared at the older military man. “How could you…”
Colonel Nelson raised a brow at him. “Son, I’ve told you enough times that you should know it by heart. Nothing happens in this office without my knowing about it.”
Darren’s face fell and he nodded. “That is affirmative sir. Agent Brenda Weston came to my office last night.”
Colonel Nelson raised a brow. “And what golden nugget of intelligence did she have to share with you?”
Chesterfield felt his face flush. “She, uh…had a list of files that a rogue FBI agent may have tried to access.”
Colonel Nelson was stoic. Finally he gave a slight nod of his head. “And?”
“And, that agent may…or may not be, working with Bridger and the Baba Yaga group.”
Colonel Nelson nodded slowly. “So, you’re screwed again.”
Chesterfield shook his head. “No, sir. The files are encrypted. I spoke with one of the best encryption coders at the agency and he assured me that it would take them too much money and way too much time for the theft to have any effect.”
Colonel Nelson raised a brow at him. “Is that so?”
“Yes, sir.” Chesterfield felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And I just got off the phone with our operatives overseas. They have a bead on Bridger and his cohorts. It’s just a matter of time before they close in on them and we’ll have them in custody.”
Colonel Nelson continued to stare at the man. “Then carry on, agent. You have a lot of work to do.”
“Yes, sir.” Darren fought the urge to fire off a mock salute and turned to leave.
“Just, one more thing.”
Darren paused at the door, dread rising up within him. He turned slowly. “Yes, sir?”
“Remember, regardless of what happens, I still have no knowledge of this operation.”
Chesterfield nodded knowingly. “Of course sir.”
He stepped out of the office and glanced to the security cameras mounted along the ceiling. Is he tapped into those things or what? How could he know about the FBI coming in last night?
He turned and made his way back to the elevators, his body suddenly drained. He needed coffee.
Again.
Karachi, Pakistan
MAMOON PUSHED THE little car as hard as he could around the corner, putting as much distance as possible between them and the angry mob they had just escaped.
Balil continued to stare at Sameer. “You killed those men.”
Sameer was stoic. “It was them or us.” He turned to Balil and his face was stone. “I had no choice.”
Mamoon glanced to the rear view mirror and the panic that was setting in on Balil’s features. “You were the one demanding blood just moments before, Balil.”
Balil stared at the eyes in the mirror, his face turning pale. “That was for Muhammed’s blood. He killed Tariq and all of the others!”
“Blood is blood, Balil. We cannot know of Muhammed’s involvement in this.”
Balil threw his hands in the air. “And of course, you defend your friend once more.”
“And yet you try to shame Sameer for saving our lives.” Mamoon shook his head. “Is that any different?”
Balil looked as though his eyes would pop out of his skull. “Of course that is different. Sameer was…” He glanced at his coworker and didn’t recognize him. “He was trying to save us.”
“You say that because you were there. You knew what was happening.”
“Of course!”
Mamoon nodded. “And were you there with Muhammed when all of this occurred?”
Balil’s eyes narrowed on his boss. “You know I was not.”
“Then how can you know of his involvement?”
Balil yelled an epithet and beat on the car door. “Let me out! I do not want to ride with you any further, Mamoon!”
Mamoon pulled the car to the side of the road and Balil had the door open before it stopped rolling. “Go. Find your friend. Defend him if you will.” He slammed the door and stepped away from the car. “But tell him that once I find him, I will personally cut his throat like a goat!”
Mamoon shook his head as he pulled the car away. He watched Balil’s form shrink in the rear view mirror until he turned and put him out of sight. He looked to Sameer, who seemed in shock. “Are you okay, my friend?”
Sameer turned to him slowly and nodded. “They blame us, Mamoon. They think that we could…that we…” His eyes welled with tears and he looked away.
“Do not worry, Sameer. The truth will come out. Allah will not abandon—”
Mamoon’s ears rung with the report of the pistol. Something wet and chunky splattered the side of his face and he swerved the car, locking up its brakes. He didn’t want to look, to see what he knew had happened.
He opened the door; he saw the blood, bits of bone, hair, and brain dripping from his sleeve. He felt his stomach turn and he bent over to throw up.
When the first wave stopped, he braced a hand against the roof of the car. His eyes wandered and he saw his friend leaned over the gear shift, his eye dangling from the ruined socket of his face.
Mamoon turned again and fell to his knees. He didn’t care that his own sick was soaking into his trousers.
He bent low and began to wail.
23
Baba Yaga Satellite Office, Baltimore, MD
ROGER WALKED OUT of the hangar and onto the tarmac as the plane’s front tires screeched in contact. He heard the engines spin up as the pilot reversed the thrust and watched as the jet slowed dramatically. Once it had turned
