Kelly took the tip of his pinkie, licked it, then dabbed it into the inner part of the busted balloon. He stuck his tongue out and, with sharp precision, lightly touched his pinkie. He methodically moved his tongue around the inside of his mouth, then looked skyward and appeared in deep thought.
Steele removed her mask and she and Nick took to the time to look at each other.
“Well?” Nick asked, after he waited almost a full minute for Kelly to contemplate his taste test.
“If I were to guess,” Kelly said, then took a swig of water from his canteen and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I would say mustard.”
“Mustard gas?” Nick said, appalled at the cavalier manner the man investigated an unknown substance.
“No. More like dry mustard.”
“Dry mustard?” Jennifer Steele asked. “Why in the world would they put dry mustard in a balloon, send it down a wire, then shoot it with a rifle? It’s a complete waste of time.”
Nick looked at his watch. Thirty-nine minutes before the White House missiles ignited. They’d wasted ten minutes dealing with the damn balloon. Nick knew exactly what Kharrazi was doing with those precious minutes.
He pulled out the satellite photos taken of the cabin just before sunset. He forced himself to sit up and the grimace he made seemed to startle Steele.
“Please,” she said, holding him upright to prevent him from toppling over. “You need to stay still. You could have broken some ribs.”
In between short, well-paced breaths, Nick said, “There’s not much that could be done for that anyway.” He worked his way to his knees and his peripheral vision began to clear up. Matt was only a few yards away, crouched down, providing cover for the assault on the cabin. It didn’t seem as if there was much resistance left. Matt was close enough to hear everything that Nick and Kelly had discussed. He looked at Nick and said, “You got lucky, partner.”
Nick spit powder from his mouth. He realized that it tasted like mustard. “Are they inside yet?”
Matt peered into the magnified scope of his rifle. With his cheek clenched up against the butt of his rifle, he said, “Yes.”
“You know Kharrazi’s gone already, don’t you?” Nick said.
In the corner of his eye, Nick saw Kelly swivel his head and take in the muzzle flashes from the wooded terrain surrounding the cabin. Nearby, McKenna barked orders like a born leader. McKenna was behind him now and Nick suspected he was close to the cabin.
“I think that dry mustard is affecting your judgment, Agent Bracco,” Kelly said. “There’s nobody escaping from that cabin. Not tonight.”
Nick looked at Matt and saw his partner make a scooping gesture with his left hand without removing his right eye from the scope. Both of them thought the same thing. They’d seen the tunnel that Kharrazi had built in the basement of the safe house back in Las Vegas.
Nick returned his attention to the satellite photos. Steele handed him a miniature single-lens microscope with an illuminator tip. He smoothed out a patch of dirt and lay the photo on the ground. He pressed his eye into the lens and searched a particular distance around the perimeter of the cabin. It took a couple of passes, but he found what he was looking for. It was just a glint. Normally it wouldn’t be enough to warrant a second glance. But under the scrutiny of the powerful lens, Nick had discovered the unmistakable reflection of a mirror. It winked out from the middle of a large bush. Once Nick examined the shrub itself, he realized that it didn’t have the symmetrical canopy that nature would provide a mountain bush of its type. It seemed to be a manmade covering.
Surmising how Kharrazi was going to escape only complicated matters. The next thirty minutes had to be dedicated to finding and disarming the detonator. Nick’s vendetta with Kharrazi had to be put aside for now. They didn’t have the resources to mess with him.
Nick tried to get to his knees and stopped for a quick breath.
“You know,” Steele said, “you could puncture a lung if you aren’t careful.”
With every intake of air, Nick worked to increase his capacity. He got greedy with one breath and his lungs rejected it immediately. His entire chest stung as he coughed a short, staccato cough.
Matt grabbed his arm. “Are you okay? McKenna’s inside. They’ve got the basement secure. He’s asking for you.”
The shooting subsided. Nick muscled his way to his feet, careful to stay behind a wide tree trunk. “What’s the status?” he asked.
“There’s a few tough ones inside, digging in, a handful maybe. The basement is clear, however, and they need our help.”
“Kharrazi?”
Matt shook his head.
Nick dusted himself off and saw Rutherford, Tolliver, Downing, Steele and Silk gather around them. Smoke billowed from the two upstairs windows, illuminated by the moonlight. A half-dozen Marines were blending in with the forest, their machine guns impatiently waiting for any sign of enemy activity. There was a clear path to the basement doors, which yawned open like a bible on a priest’s lectern. Nick caught the eye of one of the Marines and gestured for cover. The Marine nodded.
Nick led the way to the edge of the tree line. When he pulled the 9mm from his holster, his ribcage felt like he’d just taken an injection from a long hypodermic needle. He doubled over for a moment causing Steele to ask him if he should stay put. Nick thought about how close he was to Kharrazi’s headquarters, how much information they would eventually garner from this raid. With his hands on his knees he looked across the open pathway to the basement doors just thirty feet away. He knew it was the portal to his destiny. There was still time to stop the missiles. They could still find Kharrazi. He came up to force a quick breath and said, “Let’s go.”
Chapter 37
Nick and Matt ran down the cement stairs to the cellar, followed by the rest of the team. Silk was a few steps behind them, his revolver by his side. Gunfire on the opposite side of the cabin caused them all to duck as they hit the basement floor.
The room was musty from lack of circulation. Nick, on all fours, looked up to see McKenna standing in a darkened corner with Kelly chiseling something on the wall. They were the only two in the room besides Nick’s crew. A solitary wooden desk and fabric sofa were the only pieces of furniture in the unfinished basement. When Nick saw the stacks of newsmagazines behind the desk, he knew it was Kharrazi’s lair. The chair behind the desk was pushed in. It didn’t appear that Kharrazi was in any rush to leave.
McKenna pointed to the adjacent room with his machine gun. “Their communications room,” he said. “Probably the nerve center of the entire operation.”
Nick peered into the next room where Marines patrolled the area. He could see TV screens and sophisticated radio equipment layered on top of each other. Shelves were stacked with spools of wire and canisters of what Nick assumed were explosives.
Nick nodded at McKenna, who watched Kelly creating sparks against the cement wall.
“What are you doing?” Nick asked.
“You said the detonator would be down here. We’ve gone through most of the basement. My guess is that baby’s inside this wall safe.”
Nick rushed over and grabbed the chisel from Kelly’s hand. Kelly looked to McKenna for instructions.
“What are you doing, Bracco?” McKenna asked.
Nick stared at Kelly, looking straight through him and thinking like a chess player, four moves ahead. There was a long silence and just when McKenna was about to speak, Nick said, “There’s no time for this.”
“If you’re suggesting we use explosives,” Kelly said, “I think there’s a good chance that will set off the detonator.”
“I know,” Nick said.
McKenna looked at his watch and bristled, “Listen, Agent Bracco, we have exactly thirty-five minutes to get inside this safe and try to diffuse this thing. You’re wasting valuable time.”