A gentle tug. The black wire came free, falling harmlessly away from the detonator and Hamid could hear a collective sigh of relief escape the men behind him.
One canister down. Three to go…
At the first impact of the water, the young woman moaned, her eyes blinking. Thomas paused for a moment and then emptied most of the rest of his canteen across her face.
She roused, shaking her head and groaning in pain as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes flickered open, idly resting on his face. Then, suddenly, recognition flooded across her countenance and she tried to lunge for him, only to realize her hands and feet were securely bound with zip ties.
The stream of curses that escaped her lips was sufficient to surprise even Thomas, whose command of Arabic could only pick out the most prominent obscenities.
Unperturbed, he listened for a moment, then lifted his hand without warning and backhanded her across the face.
“Listen to me,” he instructed in Arabic, ignoring the glare of defiance on her face. He knelt in front of her, placing the cellphone he had taken from the dead man between them. “This is your partner’s phone. Sorry to say, it survived the fall considerably better than he did.”
She spat in his direction. “You are a lying pig!”
“Possibly. You were supposed to call in and inform al-Farouk of my death, right?” Taking in her look of shock, he pressed his advantage. “Yeah, I know your boss’s name, among other things. I want you to make the call, just like you were supposed to.”
“No.”
“Sure about that?” Thomas took her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet, forcing her to the edge of the stairwell. She cried out in pain and he pressed down harder on the shoulderblade broken by his 9mm slug. “In that case, I’ll shove you over right here and now — leave you as a warning for the next people he sends after me. You get lucky, your partner’s body might even cushion your fall.”
As if on cue, the phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the number, then handed the phone to her, nodding as he did so.
She met his gaze, tears rolling down her cheeks. Their eyes locked and Thomas cleared his throat. “Better start deciding how much you really want to die today.”
Another painful moment of indecision came and went, then she flipped open the phone with a sudden gesture, speaking quickly. “The target has been eliminated…”
“Why are you answering Rashid’s phone?” Farouk asked after listening to her report.
A tinge of sadness colored the young woman’s voice as she responded. “Rashid is dead. As they fought he and the American fell from the belfry onto the stairs below.”
Farouk considered that for a moment. “Very well. You have been trained in the use of a rifle. I will be counting on you.”
“There should be a red wire beneath the black, running in a diagonal from left to right.”
“And there isn’t.” Hamid wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, rocking back on his haunches. The second canister had been secreted in the opposite hall, in a three-foot dead space — same set-up as the first, only five feet from an electric fan pointed toward the assembly hall.
Apparently the intention had been to use the ventilation fans to blow a billowing cloud of bacteria into the crowd of worshipers.
“Okay,” Tex responded. “Then we’re looking for a yellow-coated wire. Have one?”
“Negative, GUNHAND. Any other bright ideas?”
“No,” the Texan replied with a weary sigh. “Hold tight.”
“You’re coming here?”
“No other choice. This sounds like a new one.”
Hamid looked over at the Jordanian bodyguard to see him shaking his head vigorously. “Al-Husayni was very clear. There are to be no unbelievers in the mosque.”
“No dice, GUNHAND, they’re not going to let you in.”
There was a long pause, then Harry came on the network. “We don’t have time to mess with this. Send Abdul back with both canisters. We’ll disarm the second one here. FULLBACK and SWITCHBLADE, continue with your search.”
“Roger that, EAGLE SIX.”
Making coffee was typically not Bernard Kranemeyer’s job. But with the op-center staff running on fumes, he was pitching in with whatever he could. His personal espresso machine was now sitting on the desk of an abandoned workstation and the DCS was sorting diligently through the containers of gourmet coffee he had brought from his office.
That was where he was when Carter found him. “We’ve received a sitrep from Nichols.”
“And?”
“The search is going well — they’ve located two of the four canisters. One of them’s disarmed and they’re working on the other one.”
“Thank God,” Kranemeyer breathed, closing his eyes for a moment. As good as the news was, it came with a chilling reality.
There were less than forty minutes left…
It had been days since they had been alone, Hamid mused as he and Davood moved down the stairs to the lower level of al-Aqsa. And the time had not been right.
His face darkened as he thought of the young agent’s treachery. He had sold out his faith for the hope of reward, an unforgivable sin.
At least Hamid had no intention of forgiving it. The Glock seemed to tremble beneath his coat as the pair hustled down the wide limestone steps, entering a vaulted corridor.
“Any ideas on the canister?” Harry asked, watching the surveillance screens. On one, they could see Abdul Ali hurrying back through the main hall of the masjid — on another the forms of Davood and Hamid making their way down a corridor. Worshipers were beginning to flood into the building, in advance of zhurh, the noon prayer.
Tex shook his head. “It sounds like a new design. Won’t know till I’ve had a better look.”
Harry nodded, then motion on one of the screens attracted his eye. The two agents were stopped in a small room, a library, from the look of it. It also looked like they were alone.
He selected the camera on the computer console and zoomed in the camera. Hamid was gesturing angrily at the younger man, who stood with his back to a bookshelf. Something was going on.
“EAGLE SIX to FULLBACK, are we having a problem?”
Without replying, Hamid swung toward the camera, the silenced Glock in his right hand coming into view. A single shot spat from the barrel, smashing into the lens of the camera.
The screen went dark. For a moment, Harry stood there, frozen in shock, then he activated his earpiece once more. “Stand down, FULLBACK. I repeat, stand down! That is an order.”
“Why?” Davood asked, his voice trembling as he stared into the muzzle of Hamid’s pistol.
“You have betrayed our brethren,” Hamid responded, ignoring the voice in his ear. “You have betrayed the holy jihad. And the penalty for such a betrayal is death.”
“I thought you were one of us.” The young agent shook his head.
Hamid spat on the floor, reaching forward to rip the microphone from Davood’s earlobe, crushing it beneath his foot. “Never. I have not forgotten the words of the prophets, as you have. It is not without reason that I am called BEHDIN, a man of pure religion.”
“EAGLE SIX to FULLBACK, I need you to put your gun down.”
“I thought you would have had agents in place to prevent him from turning on you,” Farshid Hossein observed coolly from the corner where he had been watching events unfold.