Infidels (30 page)

And
he felt no satisfaction at their deaths.

He rose,
kneeling beside Maggie, taking her hand in his once again, then leaned over,
placing his lips to her ear.

“I love
you.”

Red Sea Coast, Saudi Arabia

Near rendezvous coordinates

Wings lay prone on the embankment, looking out across the water. The
sun had long set but the stars and a half-moon were casting a pale glow over
the entire coastline, enough so that he had decided they should remain hidden,
just south of the actual rendezvous coordinates, in case it turned out to be
another trap.

Not that
he doubted Kane.

He
simply wasn’t about to risk his team and their rescued hostage when there was a
chance something had leaked to the Saudi’s.

He
cocked an ear. “Did you hear that?”

Jagger
grunted. “If you’re referring to the engines of the Zodiac now making its way
to shore, then yes.”

Wings
grinned. “So you
did
hear it.”

“You not
speaka da Engleesh?”

“Maybe I
couldn’t understand you with those fly swatters you call lips flappin’ about.”

“Hey,
Mick’s a sex symbol, why can’t I be?”

“Cuz you
can’t sing.”

“And you
can’t dance,” said Sweets.

“And
you’re not very good looking,” added Mickey.

“You
guys can all go to hell. My mommy says I’m cute, and that’s all that matters.”

Wings
peered through his binoculars. “That opens a whole other can of worms that I
don’t wanna touch.” He spotted something a couple of hundred yards out. “Gotta
RIB. Any sign of anything else?”

A string
of negatives came from the team as they scanned 360 degrees.

“Then
let’s go, that’s US Navy issue, no way the Saudi’s have that.”

Wings
pushed himself to his feet then sprinted down the embankment and across the
sand, the others behind him. He hit the water’s edge just as the Rigid Hull
Inflatable Boat arrived.

“Hey
boys, need a lift?”

Wings
grinned as Kane killed the engines of the Zodiac, angling it parallel to the
shore. “Nice to see a friendly face.”

Kane
shook his head. “You’re lucky to be seeing mine,” he said as everyone climbed
aboard.

“Here’s
one you can take a look at.” Wings handed him the sack containing Prince
Khalid’s head. Red opened it, immediately jerking his head back.

“Funny.”
He paused. “Aren’t we missing some people?” He nodded toward Josh Pullman. “And
who the hell is that?”

“Josh
Pullman, meet nobody,” said Wings. “He was never here.”

Josh
extended his hand. “Delighted.”

Kane
smacked the hand, firing up the engines. “Explain on the way,” he said, angling
the boat back toward open water then gunning it. “Where’s Red and the rest?”

Wings
stood beside him, hanging onto a handhold, yelling over the roar of the engines
and the none-too-calm sea. “They’re heading for Mecca with the artifact.”

Kane
stole a quick glance at Wings. “Are you kidding me? Do you guys have any idea
what the hell is going on in the world?”

Wings
shrugged. “We had less than thirty minutes of comms. I’m guessing it ain’t good.”

“That’s
putting it mildly. Just before I launched, the French military began an all-out
assault on Paris. The Brits are prepping to do the same with London. Thousands
are dead. Tens of thousands. And that’s in Europe. There’s pretty much no Saudi
government left. Who the hell are they going to rendezvous with?”

“Some
Colonel named Faisal bin Nayef.”

“Did you
say Nayef?”

“Yes.”

“Of the Mabahith?”

“No
idea.”

“Well,
if he’s the same guy I’m thinking of, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could
throw him.”

“Why?”

“Why?
The guy’s got more blood on his hands than all of us put together. This guy is
ruthless. He’ll kill anyone who gets in his way, without hesitation.” Kane
shook his head. “We’ve got to warn them before it’s too late. They might be
heading straight into a trap.”

“A trap?
But why? They’re trying to return that goddamned rock.”

“Because
if Colonel Faisal bin Nayef kills the infidels that stole the rock, and returns
it to his people, he’ll have more power and money than he could ever dream.”

Josh leaned
in, having listened to the conversation.

“I might
have an idea on how we can prevent that from happening.”

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

“Did you get the footage?”

Leroux
nodded, the video feed of his friend CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane crystal clear
from the state of the art communications room of the luxury superyacht Dubai,
apparently “rented” by Kane somehow.

He
didn’t bother asking.

His
friend looked like shit and probably felt as bad as he did. His flu was running
its course and he was definitely on the mend, but he was exhausted. He needed
to go home and just die for two days but he couldn’t. He was driving himself
harder than he ever had, his dead Red Bulls lined up on his desk like
tombstones, each buying him a couple of hours to try and save lives.

And it
had left him shaking like a leaf, his heart racing, the palpitations starting
to actually become concerning.

But he
had to go on. Just a few more hours.

Because
if it wasn’t over in the next few hours, it was never going to end.

He glanced
at the list of files on his computer. “Yes, the last of it arrived just a few
minutes ago.”

“Good. I
need it edited together and broadcast to every single news organization in the
world and across the Internet. We need every possible eyeball on this so these
people know we didn’t steal the damned thing.”

“Do you
think that’s going to help?” Leroux had his doubts. Non-stop broadcasts had
been made by various governments including several addresses by the President
himself trying to convince Muslims that the United States wasn’t behind the
theft of the Black Stone. Unfortunately a desperate Saudi government was
contradicting those stories, hell-bent on deflecting any blame from themselves.

What was
no longer in dispute was that the Black Stone had been stolen.

And what
also wasn’t in dispute among those in the know was that the footage of the
Delta team with the Black Stone was genuine.

But the
footage he now had was the complete helmet-cam video taken from the moment the
op started, clearly showing the team assaulting the camp and discovering the
Black Stone and Prince Khalid’s head.

Would it
be enough to convince the world?

“I have
no idea, buddy, but we’ve got to try something. Red’s heading into a trap as
far as I’m concerned, and we’ve got to stop him. Any luck finding him yet?”

“Officially
we’re not looking for them. Unofficially I’ve got my team scouring satellite
footage of his expected travel route since those satellites are still over the
area monitoring the violence. We now also have several drones in the area
monitoring Saudi military units to try and determine their loyalty. We’ll find
them.”

“I know
you will. Listen, don’t forget to edit in that footage from the reporter. He
talks about some chatter off camera about the prince being in on it and wanting
to destroy the thing. Put together something good, buddy, our asses might just
depend on it.”

Leroux
felt a pit form in his stomach. He hated having lives in his own hands, and
really hated being reminded of it. He realized that the intel he put together
every day was acted upon and that quite often meant lives were saved or lost
due to his analysis.

But it
was rarely if ever friends.

“What
are you planning?”

“Let’s
just say it’s a Hail Mary pass, but this will only work if everyone knows we’re
coming.”

Leroux’s
eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend. “Are you nuts?”

“You
know me, what do you think?”

“Certifiable
if you think letting thousands of Muslims with guns and surface to air missiles
know you’re coming is a good idea. Beyond certifiable! They’ll kill you in a
heartbeat.”

“Not
without destroying the stone.”

Leroux
leaned back in his chair, Kane’s insanity suddenly genius. He was right. If
they could let the Saudi’s know that they were coming to Mecca with the stone,
they couldn’t risk killing Kane and crew without destroying the stone. They’d
be able to return it then bug out, hopefully unscathed.

But…

He
frowned.

“Umm,
Kane?”

“Yeah.”

“What if
they’re Qarmatian?”

Kane
shrugged.

“Then
we’re dead.”

Somewhere over France, approaching the Atlantic seaboard

Dawson’s phone vibrated in his pocket, the desire to ignore it
overwhelming as he sat beside Maggie, her breathing shallow, her face as pale
as he had ever seen it.

But the
bleeding had been almost stopped.

And
thanks to Laura being on the plane with several bags of medical supplies, the
nurse had been able to hook Maggie up to an IV, give her anti-inflammatories
and antibiotics, and Acton had already tapped a vein, his blood type the same
as hers.

But so
far she had been completely non-responsive with the exception of that one,
gentle squeeze of his hand, a squeeze he had now convinced himself was nothing
more than a reflex. The nurse said she appeared to be in a coma, which could be
a good thing, but without proper equipment, there was no way of knowing.

The
pilot had radioed in a medical emergency to the nearest safe haven which at the
moment appeared to be Dublin, Ireland, the Muslim population so low, there had
been only a few protests with little violence.

And it
was less than two hours away.

Hang
on, sweetheart.

He
pulled the phone out, fearing it might be an update about Red that he’d never
forgive himself for missing. “Speak.”

“Hey,
buddy, it’s me. Did everybody make it out okay?”

Kane
clearly hadn’t heard what had happened and Dawson found the words catching in
his throat. Not trusting himself, he handed the phone over to Niner, who looked
at it puzzled for a moment, then held it up to his ear.

“Oh,
hey, Dylan. What’s up?” Niner rose from his seat, putting a little distance
between him and Dawson, but Dawson could still hear him nonetheless, the luxury
Gulf V too quiet a ride to hide things from your fellow passengers. “Yeah, we
made it onto the professors’ plane but Maggie was shot…in the head…it looks
bad, we’re not sure if she’s going to make it…Dublin, they’re expecting
us…ninety minutes…no, there’s nothing closer. Continental Europe and the UK are
a mess, their Muslim populations are just too large…okay, just a second.” Niner
turned and knelt beside Dawson. “You’re going to need to hear this.” He put the
phone on speaker. “Go ahead, you’re on speaker with BD, the professors and one
nurse who can be trusted.”

“Okay,
first, BD, I’m really sorry for what happened to Maggie. She’s a tough woman
from what I’ve been told so hang in there.”

Dawson
said nothing, his chest simply tightening further.

“Here’s
the skinny. I’ve retrieved four of your boys and a wayward reporter, but Red’s
heading to Mecca with Atlas, Jimmy and Spock.”

Dawson’s
jaw clenched but he let Niner do the talking knowing full well he’d ask the
same question burning in his mind.

“Why the
hell are they doing that?”

“To
return the Black Stone.”

“Under
orders?”

“Negative,
they volunteered. Clancy’s arranged an exchange with someone on the Saudi side,
but if it’s who I think it is, I just don’t trust the man.”

“Why
not?”

“Let’s
just say he’s well known in my world.”

Dawson
turned toward the phone. “What’s your plan?”

“I’ve
got a chopper here. The boys are just retrofitting it with a couple of fifty
cals I brought along then we’re going to go pick up the team and deliver the
package by air rather than land.”

Dawson
pursed his lips. It was a good plan. Assuming they didn’t get blown out of the
damned sky. “What about air defenses?”

“Langley’s
prepping a broadcast. They’ll know we’re coming and why. There’s no way they’re
going to risk blowing up their precious rock.”

“I
wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Dawson, battling to control the hatred he
felt at this moment for an entire religion. He looked down at Maggie. “As soon
as we’re on the ground I’m heading out to join you.”

“Negative,
BD. By the time you get here, it’s either over, or we’re dead. Either way you
won’t be any help.”

Dawson
frowned, knowing Kane was right.

Argh!

He felt
so helpless it was infuriating. His girlfriend was dying beside him, all
because he had invited her to Paris for a vacation paid for with blood. The
world was too dangerous a place, he should have known that, should have
declined Acton’s offer to pay for him to stay longer and have Maggie join him.

I
should have said no!

Trouble
followed him wherever he went. It was the nature of the job. He could be called
up on a moment’s notice, he could become a target if his cover was blown.

And he
could get the people he cared about hurt, or worse.

He
should have learned when his sister and niece were kidnapped. They almost died,
all because of him, all because he and his team had been targeted by a madman
with substantial resources available to him.

And now
Maggie had been targeted by mistake, all because he had dragged her to Paris.

No
woman will ever be safe around me.