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Lilburn breathed a sigh of relief — he had just been suckered. Evangeline leaned back against her chair and looked up to the ceiling while placing a hand on her still rapidly beating chest. “Oh my goodness, I declare my heart certainly missed a beat or two.”

“Please, for taking part in my theatrics, the coffee is on me. It will be my pleasure.”

Evangeline regained her composure. “I take it we were set up by your friend Antonio?”

“I am afraid so, bella. He is my cousin and every so often we have a bit of fun with the clientele. It breaks the monotony. I got on YouTube once.”

“Marvelous. Matt — don’t you agree?”

“I know never to do any more networking.”

The coffee followed shortly after then both Evangeline and Lilburn settled into a light lunch from the menu.

Evangeline watched as Lilburn shuffled the last remainders of eggs Florentine round his plate. “You look concerned, Matt.”

Lilburn laid down his knife and fork. “Here I am sitting in a café, eating a meal with a beautiful lady while two guys I worked with are lying in the morgue. Just doesn’t seem right.”

Until now, Evangeline had only heard part of what Lilburn and his team had gone through. By the time they were ready to leave, she had heard it all. She realized it was almost therapeutic for the man sitting beside her to let it all out, down to the last gory detail.

“So that’s it, that’s what went down.” Lilburn glanced at his watch. “The virus is secure. Outside of the office, there are only a handful of people who know what really happened. The economy is no worse off than when we first found out about the threat. All good, except for the matter of one fugitive Takfir operative.”

“Do you think you’ll catch him?”

“Don’t know. Don’t even know if they will assign me to bringing him in, though I expect they will. I seem to be the only one left alive to have seen him. I’ll tell you what though — it will take more than luck to get the drop on that man. I’ve seen what he’s capable of, seen the way he reacts. He’s a tough bastard. If anyone can get themselves back in one piece, he can.” Lilburn looked down at his plate and stared at the last of his uneaten food.

Evangeline watched in silence, taking in his strong features, and the pain that was written on them for all the world to see. He’s strong, but he has more than his share of demons, she thought to herself. And he’s used to fighting them. It came as no surprise when the moment came, and Matt Lilburn bounced back to his professional self. Grabbing his knife and fork, he hungrily devoured the last of his food. “I’m good to go, how about you?”

Chapter Thirty-two

“He’s disappeared off the face of the map. We’ve got ground support from police to the military scouring the immediate locality. Dogs, people on horseback, choppers. Only asset we don’t have any more is the drone, that’s been pulled.” Director Hall unfolded his arms and rose from behind his desk in his private office. The last five years as Director of Counter Terrorism at Albany had taken its toll. The photo of his wife and two daughters that eighteen months ago used to have pride of place on his desk was now hidden in one of the liquor cabinet drawers, face down. The replacement was of his two daughters. Moving to one of the two tall arched windows, he looked out over a green lawn and colorful gardens dissected by a meandering concrete path. Beyond the open space was the perimeter security fence. “This can be one shit of a career, Matt. You give your life to this organization, spill blood, sweat and tears, then one day you come to the realization that you and everyone else here… we’re just a number.” Hall turned away from the window. Walking to the nineteenth-century rosewood cabinet, he took two crystal glasses from a shelf. “You know, by rights this piece of furniture shouldn’t be here; well, half of it shouldn’t. Scotch?”

Lilburn stood up. “I’m on duty, sir.”

Hall reached for the bottle of single malt and poured two glasses. He picked up both glasses and held one out. “The funerals are in three days; take time until they’re over, if I hear of our fugitive in the meantime I’ll let you know.”

Accepting the whiskey and the leave, Lilburn raised his glass. “To the fallen.”

“To the fallen.”

Hall smacked his lips and gave a satisfied sound as the amber liquid flowed down to his belly. “Has anyone told you we know who the third man is?”

“We pulled prints from the hangar. Mossad informs us he is Akins Bomani, fifty-two, born in Egypt, linked to al-Qaeda but specifically to the Takfir. The scum’s been involved in a number of killings, bombing, mutilations, you name it. He got caught once, trying to cross the border from Afghanistan to Pakistan, but got lucky when a green on blue fuck-up occurred.”

“Can we confirm he’s the last one of the cell?”

“We believe so. The one you got was Bashir Zuabi, his friend was Yusuf al-Nasseri, both stuffed-up kids from New York. It was Bomani who took out Yusuf. Took out his own man; one of those Ripley’s moments, I guess.”

Lilburn swirled his glass. He watched as the liquid spun around and around before breathing in its aroma and swallowing the still-swirling whiskey before placing the empty glass down. “He’ll be difficult to track down, it won’t be easy.”

“He got into the country unannounced, I’m damn sure he can get out equally as well. After the funerals I’d like you to stick around — not long — just enough to get the paperwork in order. We won’t hold our breath about leads on Bomani.”

“Will do, sir. What’s happening with Dr. Crawston?”

“All taken care of, tickets booked for London the day after tomorrow.” Hall consumed the last of his whiskey following it up with a satisfied “Ahh”. “The good doctor did well, very well. I’ll admit she wasn’t my first choice. I had an expert from Plum Island who was going to be here instead, a Dr. Bradley, a top man. He didn’t have Dr. Crawston’s extensive knowledge of bioterrorism, but he was well respected in his field.”

“What made you choose Dr. Crawston?”

Hall laughed. “The poor bastard died of a heart attack just after I contacted him. I can do that to people, you know! As it turned out, appointing Dr. Crawston to the team was the best thing I’ve done in a long, long time. Let me brief you.” Hall poured himself another drink after first offering Lilburn another. Lilburn declined. “You know about Director Lopez, right?”

“Yes, Evangeline informed me.”

Hall indicated to Lilburn to resume his seat while he sat back down behind his desk. “If it hadn’t been for… Evangeline, we would have been none the wiser that one of us had been leaking information to the enemy. Christ, the implications of a traitor in our midst are unfathomable.”

“I was told she did it under duress, something about a kid.”

“I’ve known her for years, Matt, first I even heard mention of a child. Goddamn it, we just lost two of our own, some cops in New Jersey and who knows how many civilians.” Hall’s voice started to rise. “Hell, we nearly had one of the biggest terrorist strikes since the Twin Towers!” Hall slammed down his glass, spilling some of the whiskey. Hall stared at the spill; neither men spoke until the director looked over to Lilburn. “I’m getting too old for this, Matt.” Taking a tissue from one of the desk drawers, Hall wiped up the mess. “It’s a case of too much and too little, I’m afraid. Too much of that jet fuel,” pointing to the whiskey, “and too little of this.” He picked up the photo of his daughters. “You got kids, Matt? No, well, let me give you some advice. If you’re going to keep up this line of work — then don’t. Don’t have children. Better still, forget about a steady relationship; it all ends down the sewer.”