Hamid smiled in satisfaction and sprung from his hiding place, covering the canister in his jacket as he moved back toward the stairs…
They found Davood where he had fallen in the library, lying in a pool of blood by a bookcase. His face was horribly disfigured, blood oozing from a bullet hole in his jaw.
As Hossein and Ali stood watch, Harry knelt by the side of his fallen agent, his fingers moving up Davood’s neck, searching for the pulse of life. Remorse filled him as he thought back of their suspicions, of their misdirected anger. He had planned to do this himself — but all that was gone now.
There it was — a faint but still present spark and Davood’s eyes flickered briefly open in response to his touch. “Hold on tight, man,” Harry whispered, clasping the young man’s hand in both of his own. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
Davood groaned, murmuring something out past his broken jaw. “There’s no time…”
“That’s not your concern,” Harry responded with a forced smile. “I’m in command here, remember. And you’re gonna make it out of here, soldier.”
The young agent’s right hand fell away from his torso, disclosing a ragged bullet hole in his abdomen. He’d been gut shot, was losing blood rapidly. Harry could only imagine what the hollowpoint bullet had done internally. “No use. I’m sorry…”
The worst part of it was that he was right. Harry felt a white-hot flash of anger course through his body as he bent over the dying man. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered fiercely. “Forgive me for ever doubting your loyalty.”
There was no response. When Harry looked up, the young man’s eyes were staring unforgivingly at the ceiling.
Harry folded Davood’s hands together across his chest and gently closed those sightless eyes, his movements slow and reverential. When he rose, a cold, hard mask had formed over his face. There was a time for everything under the sun and there would be a time for grief. It wasn’t now.
Now was the time for vengeance…
Leaving the library, they moved down a long corridor, weapons drawn. Harry took point, the folding stock of the H &K pressed tight against his shoulder. With the cameras off-line, they had no way of knowing where Hamid was. It was back to low-tech, old-fashioned methods, and they were running short on time…
The cameras showed the three men moving down the corridor toward him, blocking his exit. There were other ways to his destination, moving through the subterranean levels of the masjid, but the detour would take too much time. Hamid bared his teeth in a grin and scrolled through the frames on his TACSAT’s screen. There was only one way out—through the enemy.
He laid the canister down and covered it with his jacket, leaving his arms free for movement. Shouldering the MP-5SD, he moved to the corner, waiting.
The men on-screen drew yet closer and he noted their position with a careful, practiced eye. Now!
The figure appeared in an alcove near the end of the corridor without warning and Harry had just enough time to recognize Hamid’s face before bullets began coming his way, erupting from the barrel of the double agent’s silenced MP-5.
He threw himself sideways, his palms scraping against the flagstones as he hit the floor, rolling onto his stomach. Another moment and he was behind cover, his submachine gun aimed at the corner, but the hail of fire had stopped as abruptly as it had begun. “Anyone hurt?” Harry demanded, glancing over at his companions.
Ali shook his head in the negative. Hossein was laying a foot away from Harry, examining a gouge in his shoulder. “Ricochet,” he explained, wincing.
The absurdity of it all. To be trading fire with his best friend — it was surreal.
Those bullet gouges in the wall proved otherwise. So had Davood’s dead body. Harry closed his eyes, hatred mixing with sorrow. He knew what had to be done.
“Hamid!” he called out, his voice echoing off the stone. “Lay down your weapons and come out. We need to talk.”
The only response was the echo, bouncing and diminishing with every repetition. “It’s your only hope of leaving here. We can cut a deal, just give us the bacteria.”
“I’ve heard that before, Harry,” came the reply. “Remember, we took the class together — how to deal with a barricaded subject?”
They had, Harry realized with chagrin. He remembered the two of them joking about the class instructor, a rather pretty brunette. She could talk anybody into putting their gun down…
Hamid had taken her to dinner, if memory served. In better days.
He shook his head to drive away the remorse at what he was being forced to do. He couldn’t think about that now. Later. Not now.
A great gulf fixed…
At that moment, Ali’s two-way crackled with static. As he lay there on the stone steps, he responded, speaking rapidly in Arabic.
“My technicians say that the feed is still on-line,” he said finally, glancing over at Harry. “The error messages are apparently themselves erroneous.”
“Then why can’t we access it?” Harry asked softly, never taking his eyes off the iron sights of the UMP-45.
“The video feed has been pirated by someone with a satellite phone.”
“Hamid,” Harry breathed, the pieces clicking in place. “He’s using the system to track us. Isn’t there a way you can shut him out?”
The Jordanian shook his head. “We have only had the cameras in place for five months. We’re still going through the manuals on how to use them, much less figure out how to stop a hacker.”
There was an answer. There had to be. “Just give me the bacteria,” Harry shouted once more down the corridor. Lying in an effort to make Hamid show himself. If only for a moment. Just enough time to snap off a quick burst. “Give me the bacteria and I’ll let you go free. No one need know of the deal we make.”
A harsh laugh echoed off the limestone. “The West has never understood us, Harry, and they will die because of it. But you, you disappoint me. You should understand. My whole life has been given for this moment. I could no more walk away from this mission than you could let me — after I killed Davood.”
He was right. There was no way he could let him go. The answer came to Harry in a sudden burst of clarity and he rose to his knees, making his way down the stairs behind him.
His brow furrowed in puzzlement, Hamid watched him go on the camera screen. Watched Harry walk about ten yards back and pull the TACSAT from the pocket of his jacket…
“What do you need me to do?” Carol asked, still absorbing the news of Hamid’s betrayal. It seemed like a bad dream. That the Service could have been infiltrated…
“It is possible to remotely deactivate an Agency TACSAT, isn’t it?”
She nodded reflexively. “Yes — yes it is. It’s just a matter of accessing the servers and restricting user—”
“Just do it,” Harry interrupted, his voice flat, eerily emotionless. “As soon as you can. Let me know when it’s accomplished.”
The phone clicked without warning, the connection broken. Carol rose from her workstation, her mind swirling. This had to go to the DCS…
The first inkling he had of danger was when bullets whined past his covert, impacting and glancing off the centuries-old limestone walls. Hamid’s fingers tightened around the grip of his MP-5 as fluorescent bulbs exploded and shattered down the length of the hall, glass tinkling against the stone. In seconds, the corridor was plunged into subterranean darkness.