Mohammed consulted his notes. “According to the Hadith, if a Believer repents his evil actions and resolves not to repeat them, he can atone for his past by performing many righteous deeds.” He looked up from the paper. “I think that’s important — there’s a distinction between righteous deeds and good deeds, or
“That seems the size of it,” Leopole said. “Apparently Ali is trying to save his soul, and that’s a powerful motivation. It tells us that he’s not going to roll over.”
Fidgeting in his chair, Gunny Foyte grew impatient with the psychological mumbo jumbo. He had cheerfully capped an assortment of dinks, spies, and ragheads in his career, and he never found that their motivation made the slightest ballistic difference. “Why don’t we pay a visit to his clinic?”
Leopole permitted himself a rare smile. “We’re going to — at 0200 day after tomorrow. Depending on what we find, we’ll turn things over to the Pakis or we’ll lock the door as we leave.”
“So you don’t expect to find the good doctor on-site,” Foyte said.
“No, near as we can tell, he’s still in Baluchistan, somewhere around Chaman on the Afghan border.”
Lee put his military-issue glasses on again. “Okay, who goes to the big city?”
“I’m sending this your way, Steve. Pick the men you want— probably about six or eight — but leave your snipers and best field operators in case we need them here. Then check with Terry. He’ll have the 727 ready this afternoon. I’m coordinating with General Hardesty, who will clear things with the Paki police via the embassy.”
“You mean we’re working with the locals? I don’t think that’s…”
“No, no. Negative.” Leopole waved a hand. “He’s merely on call in case they get involved. Obviously, we won’t risk a security breach just for the sake of being courteous to our hosts.”
Lee sat back, mollified. “Roger that. If it goes like it should, nobody will know we’ve been there. But I’d like to arrive in time to survey the site in daylight, probably with my B and E guy.”
Mohammed wore a quizzical expression. “B and E?”
“Breaking and entry, Doctor.” Lee grinned at the seeming irony. “Yeah, it’s illegal as hell, but we’re not stealing anything unless we find the virus. In which case we’re doing some righteous work ourselves.”
“Quite so,” Mohammed chuckled.
“Rix is really good at picking locks and neutralizing security systems, so the whole op should be covert. If we’re busted, I imagine that General Hardesty will arrive in the nick of time.”
Leopole nodded again. “Roger. He’s tight with the chief of police and other security agencies. You’ll meet him right after landing.” Leopole almost adjourned the meeting. “Oh, it goes without saying that Dr. Padgett-Smith will go. She’s needed to ID any suspicious elements in the office.”
“Can she do it right there? I’d think it’ll take some time.”
“You’re right, Steve. She’ll have some biohazard containers to transport anything suspicious, and Hardesty is arranging for access to a government lab. She said that’s likely to take several hours at least.”
“Where is she, anyway?”
“She’s at the range with some of Red Team, getting more trigger time.”
Lee shook his head. “Now why can’t
The pointed white dome of King Faisal Mosque stood in startling contrast to the rocky ruggedness behind it. Flanked by four tall, elegant spires, the architectural masterpiece drew hushed respect from the mostly agnostic Americans.
Looking in his rearview mirror, Buster Hardesty indulged in a knowing grin. “It affects everybody that way. I see it almost every day and I still gawk at it.”
Things were crowded in the rented minibus, far more so than during the seventy-minute flight on the 727. But most of the passengers turned in their seats as Hardesty drove eastward on Siachin Road. “Man, that’s big!” exclaimed Kenny Rix. “How many people will it take, sir?”
“Oh, about seventy thousand. I’ve never been there during prayer, but my Paki friends say that sometimes it’s full up.”
Padgett-Smith sat on the inside in the third row, her head covered with a shawl. She wanted a better look but still was impressed with what she glimpsed. “Winchester Cathedral has nothing on that,” she murmured. “Except nine hundred years.”
“Whole lotta prayin’ goin’ on,” said Brian Guilford, a lapsed Presbyterian and practicing former Marine.
Lee, riding shotgun, consulted his city map. He had tracked the route north from the airport as Hardesty had taken Shaharra-Islamabad to the mosque before turning right at the mosque. His finger sought the F-6 area in the northeastern part of town. “If Ali’s clinic is on Ataturk Avenue, that’s not far from the diplomatic enclave.”
“Correct,” Hardesty replied. He took his time, avoiding the manic driving habits of many motorists in the capital. For a moment, Major Steven Lee, U.S. Army (Ret], mused on the irony of an active BG playing chauffeur for a retired 0–5. But Hardesty seemed a mission-oriented type — something of a rarity among attaches. “The embassy is up ahead of us, on Ramna in the complex, but we’ll pass the turnoff to Ataturk along the way. It’ll help get you oriented.”
Lee asked, “Sir, when’s a good time to look at the clinic?”
“Probably around closing time. There’s more traffic, you can drive slower and blend into the crowd better. I also have some overhead imagery for you.” Hardesty braked abruptly to avoid rear-ending an ancient Volkswagen. “Who’s your second-story man?”
Rix leaned forward from the second row. “That’d be me, General.”
Hardesty’s gray eyes went to the rearview mirror again. “Outstanding, Mr. Rix.” The B and E specialist was impressed: the general had had only the briefest introductions at the airport but seemed to remember everyone’s name.
Hardesty continued. “I’ve, ah, obtained some information about the clinic’s security system. Because the vet has medical drugs, there have been a couple of attempted break-ins. Your Dr. Ali, or Sharif, installed electronic sensors linked to a security firm that can roll the cops in a couple of minutes. But it’s a pretty basic system: you can probably run a wire around it in short order.”
Rix sat back, appreciating the attache’s efficiency. “Roger that, sir.”
Entering the diplomatic enclave, Hardesty turned into a tree-lined area and stopped the bus. “We’re quartering you in some rented bungalows a few miles from here, strictly for security reasons. Obviously we can’t put you up at the embassy. I’ll get you set up and then Major Lee and Mr. Rix and I will take a look at the clinic. There’ll be a full briefing after dinner, and you’ll meet one of our medical assistance people who’ll go in with you to read the labels. Any questions?”
Lee turned in his seat. “Yes, sir. Uh, General, I do wonder about your direct involvement. Isn’t that risky? I mean, our running orders stressed that no military personnel were to be involved.”
A grin ghosted across Buster Hardesty’s face, then vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “That’s odd. The Secretary of Defense never mentioned that to me. Maybe I’ll have to check with him to clarify his orders in, oh, a week or so.”
Lee realized what the attache had actually said.
Hardesty leaned over and winked. “Never been out of it, son. Never been out of it.”
Steve Lee ran the final comm check from his position atop the building across the avenue from the veterinary clinic. Beside him were Padgett-Smith and an embassy doctor, wearing biohazard suits in case a hot zone was established inside. Another man stood by in a trailer in case decontamination measures were called for. That left two pair as lookouts and backup at both the front and rear, covering Rix and his two partners. The sentries used night vision to check the dark corners away from the streetlights.
“Front door, clear.”
“Back door, clear.”
Lee checked his watch: 0143. He keyed his mike. “All clear. Stand by.”
Almost two minutes later the wailing of sirens stabbed through the night. Lee looked over his shoulder and
