Tex’s typically gruff voice came on the air. “I read you, EAGLE SIX. Same situation over here.”
“Why didn’t you report it?” Harry exclaimed in frustration.
“Hey, boss. You order radio silence, and I no longer own a set.”
Harry nodded silently. “Fine. FULLBACK? Report in.”
“Somebody got in here before us, Harry,” Hamid stated bluntly. “I’m looking at a body. My gut tells me it won’t be the last.”
“We will be proceeding as planned. But be prepared for tougher resistance than we could expect from IRGC-” Harry stopped sharply, his ears straining to pick up the slightest sound. “What was that?”
“I don’t know, EAGLE SIX.”
He heard it again. A sound, born to him on the breeze. Coming from the interior of the camp. The sound of a woman weeping…
6:35 P.M. Eastern Time
NCS Operations Center
Langley, Virginia
“How’s it coming, Ron?” Kranemeyer asked, appearing suddenly in the door of his cubicle. Now in his mid-forties, the DCS still moved like an operator, as silently as a big cat on the stalk.
The analyst glanced up from his computer. “It’s coming,” he acknowledged grudgingly. “I’m going to need to hack the data encryption on the TACSAT. Or do you have the password to override?”
Kranemeyer’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Try eight-four-three-six-Redmond. I think that’s what the computer picked out for this month.”
Carter snorted, tapping the code into his system. “The computer’s got a sense of humor. This would have been a lot quicker going through Hadley’s tech-heads.”
“We’ve been through that before, Ron. How much longer?”
“Give me five minutes.”
“From those sat shots, I don’t think we have that long. I need a link to Nichols right away. If he still thinks he’s going to accomplish this mission flawlessly, he’s wrong. Now get me an uplink!”
Carter looked over the rims of his glasses at the DCS. “When it comes right down to it, you either trust your people, or you don’t. And if you don’t, you have to accept the problems that tag along. Five minutes.”
3:36 A.M. Tehran Time
The base camp
Harry moved forward, his assault rifle leading the way as he stalked through the ghostly remains of the base camp. Bulletholes pocked the side of one of the trailers, as though a firefight had gone on for a few short moments. The body of a dead Iranian soldier lay in a puddle of blood near the entrance to one of the trailers.
Through his night-vision goggles, he could see the rest of his team moving into position.
“Alpha Team, this is EAGLE SIX. The sound seems to be coming from one of the objective trailers in the northeast quadrant. Hold near the trailer until I join you.”
“Roger, Lead,” Tex’s voice came back. Davood was with him.
“FULLBACK?” Harry demanded.
“Right here, boss,” Hamid’s voice replied. “I’m moving in.”
Harry hurried toward the trailers, an overwhelming sense of urgency coming over him. Some one had gotten here before them, maybe even in the trailers ahead of him. They needed to retake command of the situation, regain their initiative.
He reached the trailer, moving noiselessly on the hard-packed mountain earth. It was clearly a woman, somewhere in the darkness inside. His mind flickered back to the photographs he had been shown back at Langley. An Australian paleontologist attached to Moshe Tal’s team. Maybe…
There was only one way to find out. And they were running short on time. He reached forward and tapped Tex on the shoulder, holding up two fingers. Bang the room.
The Texan nodded, pulling a stun grenade from the webbing of his combat vest. Taking up their positions beside him stood Hamid and Davood.
The door to the trailer swung loosely in the mountain breeze. The area around the lock was splintered, as though someone had blown it in earlier.
One, Tex mouthed silently. Harry rose from his crouch behind Davood. He would lead the way in. Two …
All four agents looked down and away, to protect their eyes from the flash that would come. Three …
Harry heard the clunk of the cylinder hitting the floor inside, then his ears were pummeled with a terrific reverberation, as though someone had set off dynamite beside him. Light filled the night sky, a glare as bright as sunlight penetrating through his closed eyelids. His gun came up and he dashed up the steps into the bowels of the trailer. “Everyone! On the floor! NOW!”
His eyes traversed the room quickly, taking in the sight. The trailer had been transformed into a jail. Three of the cells were occupied. The fourth was empty, its steel door buckled and twisted. Someone had blown the lock.
He moved over to the cells. Inside the last one, a woman lay screaming, her hands in her eyes. Rachel Eliot, his mind told him, the briefing indelibly printed on his mind. The other two were men. One of them, young enough that he could scarcely have been out of college, glared back up at Harry. Mullins. The dim light wasn’t enough for him to recognize the other man, not yet.
“Why did you come back?” Mullins hissed.
“What do you mean? Where are the others?” Harry’s eyes turned to focus on the other man. No, it wasn’t him. “Where is Dr. Moshe Tal?”
3:38 A.M.
Project RAHAB
They could hear the helicopter before they could actually see it. Gideon Laner turned to his second-in-command. “You have the charges placed, Yossi?”
Eiland nodded. “The FAVs are rigged for command-detonation. Hanged if I’m blowing them till I know that chopper’s ours.”
Gideon smiled. “Good work.”
A moment later, the small helicopter appeared over the ridge, settling down into the valley floor. “Time to go,” he announced, glancing over at the man they had come so far to rescue.
“You have to go back for them,” the archaeologist whispered, desperation visible on his face.
Gideon stared at him. “I’ve told you before. There is no room for them in the helo. We were sent to rescue you, and find out what’s been going on.”
The archaeologist’s face hardened suddenly, a look of steel coming into his eyes. “Curse you.”
“All right, team,” Gideon ordered, ignoring Tal’s sudden stubbornness. “Let’s get loaded up.”
A man ran out from the hovering chopper, the rotor wash whipping at his flight uniform. “RAHAB?”
“Yes,”Gideon replied. “Thanks for meeting us.”
“Get your men onboard and let’s get out of here!” the man yelled, striving to make himself heard over the rotors. “The Iranians are out in force tonight.”
“Roger that, RAVEN.”
“Tex, Davood, stay here and get these people prepped for evac,” Harry ordered, standing in the door of the trailer. “Hamid, you’re coming with me.”
“Where to, boss?” the Iraqi asked, moving swiftly to Harry’s side.
“Search the rest of the camp,” was the curt reply. “The Iranians didn’t bring these bio-war trailers all the way out here to improve the aesthetics of the place. There was a reason. Be prepared.”
“Aye, aye.”
6:40 P.M. Eastern Time
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
“The uplink is ready,” Ron Carter stated, his voice coming over Kranemeyer’s open line. It was on speaker. The DCS set down a cup of now-cold coffee and turned to his computer.
“It should connect you directly with Nichols and override the vibrator on his TACSAT, creating a loud buzz.”
“Doesn’t that pose the risk of compromising him?”
“Actually,” the analyst replied, his voice tired, “that’s what we’re counting on. That he will pick up quickly to minimize the damages. He’s ignored the vibrator. This he can’t afford to ignore. He’ll pick up.”