Cautiously, he continued his search, closing the door behind him so the two bodies would not easily be seen by anyone just walking past. Three minutes later, he was convinced no one else was on the main floor. Quickly, he ascended the stairs and checked out the second floor, which consisted of bedrooms and bathrooms and two sitting rooms. All were empty. Just as quickly, he descended the stairs and searched the main floor again. No one. This is odd. Only one way left to go — down. He found the stairway leading below and started down. A shadow alerted him, and he ducked just as one of Ali's guards had attempted to jump him from behind. A knife blade had missed him by inches. Whirling, Styles saw the man in front of him was not wearing any shoes. No wonder he was so damn quiet. The man was looking at Styles with a maniacal grin. He tried two front thrusts with the blade at Styles's chest and neck. Styles blocked both attempts with his AR. The guard changed grips on his knife, and in the instant he brought his arm back to try a sweep thrust, Styles brought the butt of his rifle straight out and caught the man in the throat. He dropped the knife and immediately clutched his throat. Styles knew the man was done; he'd crushed the larynx, leaving the man powerless to breathe. Slowly, he slumped to the floor against the wall.
With rifle at the ready, Styles did two 360-degree sweeps. He was expecting men to come pouring out like ants, yet no one came. Weird.
He could faintly hear voices, so he crouched and continued downward. Reaching the bottom of the staircase, he followed the sounds, which led him to a large office. Three men were inside, one large man sitting behind a huge desk, and two others sitting on a sofa just to the right of the desk. Immediately, he knew who Ryyaki Ali was. He paused, listening. They were openly toasting the death of the American president. Styles could feel his blood beginning to boil. He opened the door and shot both men on the sofa directly in the center of their foreheads. He advanced on Ali with the barrel of his gun staring him in the eyes. No words were spoken. Styles walked around the desk while Ali turned to face him. There was no fear in Ali's eyes; if anything, there was contempt. Styles looked down at the three-hundred-pound man sitting in front of him and then hit him with the butt of his rifle in the forehead, stunning him but not seriously injuring him. He clicked his comm set to alert Phillips.
"Come inside; go through the main room and down the hall to the stairs. Go down. Meet me in the office."
"Affirmative."
Robert Randall, the CIA response team leader, stormed into the motel room his men were using as their staging area.
He looked around at his squad and said, "Gear up, boys. We're heading out. Bring the AK-47s."
Second in command Pete Locker asked, "We got the go-ahead?"
"Yeah, I just gave it to you."
He looked at the other two men and stated, "You heard the man. We leave in ten." Turning to Randall, he asked, "We hooking up with Jonesy?" He was referring to the man already on-site in the woods outside the suspected terrorist's property.
"He's waiting for us."
Six minutes later, the four men — each carrying an extra-large black duffel bag — climbed into a black Chevrolet Suburban. With Locker driving, Randall issued instructions.
"Jonesy has reconned the area and given me the layout. We're going to hit the cabins first and then the main house. No prisoners. I expect to find that bioagent at the house, but if it's not there, we beat where it is and how we find it out of whoever. We don't have time to waste here, so we go in fast and hard."
No one else said anything.
Half an hour later, they met up with Jonesy. "You boys ready for a walk in the woods?" he asked jokingly. He was the only one in the group who had what might be considered a sense of humor. It drove Randall nuts, but Jonesy was as good a recon man as he'd seen.
"Of course; that's why we brought a picnic," Randall snarled at him.
"Quite thoughtful. Okay, time to play follow the leader. We're going to circle around and come in on the far side. That's the safest way in."
"Is it the fastest?" Randall demanded.
"No, but it's the quietest and least guarded. It's only about fifteen minutes longer, and I've got the route well cleared. It's quiet, pine needles. Jeez, boss, calm down; you'll get to shoot somebody pretty quick."
"You don't get us there in time, it'll be you."
"We'll get there quicker if you stop bitching."
Randall took a step toward him, but Jonesy was already leading the way into the woods. Five figures, all dressed in black, disappeared into the trees.
30
Starr had no problem picking up Rijah Ellhad, noticing as he pulled in behind him that he had an attractive woman accompanying him. Starr drifted back approximately half a mile, where he could still keep the vehicle in sight.
Ten minutes later, Ellhad pulled into an RV rental site. The woman stayed in the truck while Ellhad went inside the office.
Starr decided now was his chance. He pulled up his silver sedan over near another rental RV unit. He got out and looked it over. Then with a GPS transmitter in his hand, he walked toward the office. He approached the rear of Ellhad's rental unit from the driver's side. He easily planted the tracker up under the wheel well of the rented RV unit and then walked on toward the office. He opened the door, and seeing the staff member busy with Ellhad, he excused himself and said he would return.
Ten minutes later, Ellhad reemerged and returned to his truck. After a short discussion with his companion, Ellhad pulled his truck over next to a larger GMC dually truck, already hooked to a nice tow-behind RV. They got out, and Ellhad unlocked the dually. Returning to his truck, he started to transfer his gear from one truck to the other. Several suitcases, three large duffel bags, and a couple of boxes were taken directly into the RV. Finally, Starr, who had parked across the street, saw Ellhad lock his own truck, climb into the cab of the dually, and pull back out onto the road. Starr again fell in behind him. He knew that he would be harder to spot with Ellhad towing the large camper.
Ellhad turned to Sahleea and said, "We are on our way to Lake Mead. It was a surprise that Ryyaki Ali let us go alone."
"Yes, I am surprised, as well, but I'm not complaining."
She took Ellhad's hand and placed it on her leg, high under her skirt, giving him a playful smile. "Do you know what I am thinking?"
"Yes, but you must continue to think. We have to get to Lake Mead before dark."
Pouting, she said, "You always seem to be in a hurry."
He glanced over at her. "Not when I am with you."
"No, not then. That makes me happy. How long will it take for us to get there?"
"To where we are going, maybe ten hours," he lied.
"That is a long ride, Rijah."
"You will get a longer ride once we arrive."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Phillips walked into the office of Ryyaki Ali to find him bound to a chair. She noticed a large red welt in the middle of his forehead. She paid little attention to the two bodies on the couch.
She approached Styles, who was sitting on the edge of Ali's desk.
"We ready to go?" he asked.
"Yeah. Let me plug this into his computer." She inserted a flash drive and portable hard drive. Without a word, she withdrew and opened a small leather case. Inside were four vials and a syringe.
Styles leaned down close to Ali and stared him right in his eyes. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them. If this goes smoothly, you will only die. If it doesn't, I'll castrate your worthless ass, and you won't have any fun with your virgins. Understand?" Without waiting for a reply, he nodded at Phillips.