Immediately two large black dump trucks pulled out from behind the warehouses and drove up a wet road through the wheat field. A third vehicle, a yellow crane truck, followed behind.
It took only seven minutes to offload the bombs from the train onto the trucks. Four minutes after this and the first of the trucks full of Dagestanis had hit the Islamabad — Lahore road and turned to the north.
As Rehan and Safronov climbed into one of the vehicles, a long salvo of gunfire rang out from one of the abandoned warehouses. The weapons doing the firing were PDF G3 battle rifles, but Rehan was not worried. He had ordered his men to pick up weapons from the train’s security force, and then use these weapons on the four MULTA men who, up until the moment the ISI shot them dead, thought that they would be returning to India with these weapons.
The ISI had Dagestanis carry the bodies into the field and dump them.
Jamaat Shariat lost thirteen men in the ambush. Seven died outright, and the others, men injured too badly to survive the trek ahead of them, were shot where they lay. All the bodies were loaded on trucks.
The first of the PDF response to the train attack arrived just twelve minutes after the last of Rehan’s trucks left the wheat field. By then the two bombs were nearly fifteen kilometers closer to the impenetrable metropolis of Islamabad.
68
Since returning from Pakistan weeks earlier, Jack had seen Melanie almost every day. Usually he would leave work a little early to head down to Alexandria. They would walk from her apartment to dinner unless it was snowing or raining, in which case they’d take the Hummer. He’d stay the night, getting up the next morning at five to beat the traffic for the thirty-mile drive back to Columbia.
She’d mentioned something about wanting to see where he lived, so Saturday afternoon he picked her up and took her back up to Columbia for the night. They dined on Indian at Akbar, then they stopped in for a drink at Union Jack’s.
After a beer and some conversation, they went back to Jack’s apartment.
Jack had had girls over to his place before, although he was by no means a playboy. Normally, if he thought he might have company over later in the evening, he just gave his apartment a once-over while grabbing his keys and heading out the door to go out, but for this date he had cleaned thoroughly. Mopping his hardwood floor, changing the sheets on the bed, scrubbing his bathroom from top to bottom. He’d play like he always kept the place so spic-and-span, but he was reasonably certain Ms. Kraft would be sharp enough to figure out that was not the case.
He liked this girl. A lot. He’d known that from the start, had felt the kindling of something on their early dates. He’d missed her when he was in Dubai, and when he was in Pakistan he wanted nothing more than to hold her, to talk to her, to get some sort of validation from her that he was doing the right thing for the right reasons and that everything was going to work out.
He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that two bullets had come within inches of ending his life in the past three weeks. Was that what was behind the feelings he was developing for this girl? He hoped that was not the case. She did not deserve someone falling for her as a result of some personal issue or a near-death experience. No, she warranted the head-over-heels feeling without any artificial additives.
His apartment was pricey and full of nice furniture and modern, open spaces. It was very much a bachelor pad. When Jack excused himself to go to the bathroom, Melanie snuck a peek into his refrigerator, and she found exactly what she expected. Not much but wine, beer, Gatorade, and days-old takeout boxes. She also gave his freezer a quick scan, she did work for a spy agency, after all, and found it filled with ice bags, many of which had melted and then refrozen.
She then opened a couple of cupboards in his kitchen by the freezer. Ace bandages, anti-inflammatories, Band-Aids, antibiotic ointment.
She remarked on this when he came back to the room.
“Any more bumps and bruises on the slopes?” “What? No. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. I saw the emergency aid station you have set up.” Jack’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve been snooping?” “Just a little. It’s a girl thing.” “Right. Actually I was taking a mixed martial arts class in Baltimore. It was great, but when I started traveling a lot for work I had to quit.” Ryan looked around the room. “What do you think of my place?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful. It lacks a woman’s touch, but I suppose if it had a woman’s touch, I’d have to wonder about that.” “That’s true.”
“Still. This place is so nice. It makes me wonder what you think about that little dump I’ve been making you stay over at.” “I like your place. It suits you.” Melanie cocked her head. “Because it’s cheap?” “No. That’s not what I mean. I just mean, it’s feminine and it still is full of books on terrorism and CIA manuals. It’s kick-ass. Like you.” Melanie had adopted a defensive posture. But she relaxed. “I’m really sorry. I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed by your money and your family ties, basically because I come from the other side of the tracks, I guess. My family never had any money. Four kids didn’t leave much of my dad’s military pay left over for nice things.” “I understand,” Jack said.
“You probably don’t. But that’s my problem, not yours.” Ryan walked over to Melanie and put his arms around her. “That’s in your past.” She shook her head and pulled away. “No. It’s not.” “Student loans?” Ryan asked, and then immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I just—” Melanie smiled a little. “It’s okay. Just no fun to talk about. Just be thankful for your family.” Now Jack was the one to go on the defensive. “Look, I understand that I was born into money, but my dad made me work. I’m not riding the family name to the bank.” “Of course you aren’t. I totally respect that about you. I’m not talking about money.” She thought that over for a second. “Maybe for the first time I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about your family. I see how you talk about them. How you respect them.” Jack had learned to not press her about her own upbringing. Each time he had tried she had withdrawn from the conversation or changed the subject. For a moment he thought she would finally go into her family life on her own. But she did not.
“So,” she said, and he could tell that the subject had just been changed. “Does this place have a bathroom?” At that moment her mobile phone chirped in her purse on Jack’s kitchen counter. She reached for it and looked at the number.
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“Maybe you are getting a raise,” Jack joked, and Melanie laughed.
“Hi, Mary Pat.” Melanie’s smile faded from her face. “Okay. Okay. Oh… shit.” When Melanie turned away from him, Jack sensed trouble. But he sensed more trouble ten seconds later when his own mobile rang in his pocket. “Ryan.” “It’s Granger. How quick can you be at the office?” Jack turned away and walked into his bedroom. “What’s up? Is it Clark?” “No. It’s trouble. I need everyone in immediately.” “Okay.”
He hung up the phone and found Melanie in his room behind him. “I’m so sorry, Jack, but I have to go in to the office.” “What’s going on?”
“You know I can’t answer that. I hate that you’ll have to drive me all the way to McLean, but it is an emergency.”
“Sure. That will work.”
A minute later, they headed for the door.
They drove mostly in silence to Hendley Associates.
After Melanie dropped Jack off at his offices, she drove off into the night, and Ryan stepped in the back door.
