“So I was told. It seems like the whole world is after me these days.”
She nodded. “It seems that way because that’s reality. Everyone is after you. Now, are we getting out of here or just standing around talking all day?”
“This ought to be fun. I had to fight my way out and in to this building earlier. The General told me that you were in another building when in fact you were down the hall.”
“Never believe a man who wears a generic nametag with the word General on it.”
“Lesson learned. Now, follow me. We’re not out of danger yet.”
She followed Hawk out of the room and hadn’t hustled more than ten meters down the hall before they heard a clatter of footsteps behind them.
CHAPTER 20
GARAAR LOCKED THE DOOR as his visitor left. He walked over to his desk and scrolled through all the exterior security cameras. Other than his guest walking to his car and driving away, there was nothing to see. It was quiet and calm as late afternoon sun began to sink on the horizon.
If only things stay this way between now and Saturday night.
Garaar opened his email and responded to Cindy’s note.
Will Monday be soon enough? I have to complete a multi-million dollar acquisition in Africa on Saturday.
Garaar had learned plenty at Caltech, far more than how to make Sarin. He’d learned how to craft statements sure to garner the awe and adoration of those who he sought to impress, particularly over social media or email. For a moment, he stared at the screen, admiring his work. He didn’t anticipate such a quick response from Cindy. It wasn’t even 9:00 a.m. in Miami where the self-proclaimed party girl lived. Perhaps she was lying about where she lived or her party lifestyle—or both.
Can’t wait. Will I get to take a ride on your yacht?
Garaar glanced over at the room where the Sarin was locked away. He smiled and nodded while he typed.
Absolutely!
While Garaar was convinced Cindy was the hottest woman he’d ever had a chance of being with, he wasn’t too concerned about the optimistic comments he was making, which could turn from tenuous to outright lies. If anything went wrong, Garaar would be punished severely for it at the hands of Cindy, who he assumed wouldn’t be forgiving. Garaar chuckled at the thought of telling her the truth: Sorry, Cindy, I don’t have a yacht. I was going to purchase one before my pending sale of chemical weapons soured. Sorry.
It wasn’t an explanation women likely heard every day, but at least it was the truth. Yet, he was convinced that wasn’t going to be the case. When Garaar closed his eyes, he saw himself on the deck of his new yacht, his arm around Cindy, the gentle Atlantic waves lapping at the hull, and twinkling stars dancing above the South Florida skies. It was going to be perfect.
His phone ringing snapped him out of his fantasy.
“Is everything on track for the exchange on Saturday?” a man asked. It was Karif Fazil.
“Yes, it’s just as you requested.”
“Good. I hate surprises, unless I’m the one doing the surprising.”
Garaar uncorked a bottle of Scotch and poured a drink. “You’ll be happy to know that I spoke with the American. They won’t be posing any problems.”
“They? I thought there was only one CIA operative in Berbera.”
“Usually, that’s the case. However, there are two more agents supposed to assist him on this one.”
“Is one of them named Hawk?”
“How did you—?”
“Never mind that. Just make sure you capture him. If you deliver him to me alive, I will increase your take home pay by twenty-five percent.”
Garaar remained in stunned silence for a few seconds.
“Garaar? Are you there?”
He nodded vigorously, almost forgetting that he was on the phone.
“Garaar?” Fazil asked again.
“Oh, yes, sir. I’m still here. That’s a very generous offer. I will do what I can to make sure that happens.”
Garaar hung up and clicked on a Pharrell Williams album from his desktop computer. Despite an unbridled love for American music, Garaar had to be careful since returning to Africa. Not all of his friends were as open minded about certain elements of Western culture. However, Williams was one of the world’s more popular artists abroad, which somehow made him more acceptable, even among the jihadists. Less than two weeks before he agreed to take the lead on making Sarin for Al-Shabaab, Garaar watched one of the executioners behead a man and then play Williams’ iconic Happy on his phone while dancing around the camp.
Garaar stood up and paced around the room. Uncontrollable giddiness overtook him, suppressing the angst he’d felt earlier. Maybe it was the song, or the alcohol, or the anticipation of seeing Cindy. Whatever the reason, he decided not to analyze it and enjoy the moment.
If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that when he woke up Tuesday morning, his life was going to be drastically different.
CHAPTER 21
HAWK RACED DOWN THE HALL with Emily following right behind. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that despite the thunder of footfalls, the guards in pursuit had yet to put eyes on them. He figured the moment they did, a hail of gunfire would serve as a signal.
“In there,” Hawk said, pointing to a door off to the left.
Hawk and Emily ducked inside. It was a small windowless room, no bigger than three meters square. It was dark but lit just enough to see each other’s faces thanks to the light beaming into the room through the crack beneath the door.
The footsteps stopped for a moment.
“I don’t think I can do what you’ve asked me to do,” Hawk said.
“Are you sure? I think you should sleep on it some more, especially in light of what’s going on right now.”
“No, I’ll fend for myself.”
A few more seconds of silence passed with still no audible activity from the outside.
“What is
