It could also be someone Malik had sent to test them. Which meant it was already too late to keep Malik from hearing about the intruder. There was one thing he wasn’t concerned about, though. The intruder wasn’t from the government. A government man would get a search warrant first and come in through the front door. And he wouldn’t wear a balaclava, he’d have FBI, in big white letters, on his jacket.
Before his two lieutenants arrived, Kaamil took a 9mm Glock from a drawer in the command console and stuck it inside his belt. When they entered the room, he watched each of them carefully. He’d known both men in prison, and they had proven their loyalty to him time and time again. But, he’d put them in charge of the dormitory wing and ultimately they were responsible. They were nervous. The small movements of their hands and the stiffness in their postures gave them away. They were not so afraid they refused to meet his withering glare, and he knew it was because they trusted him.
The other two men were also nervous and afraid. Kaamil addressed them first.
“Someone broke into our bunker tonight, and was allowed to escape. Do either of you know how that happened?”
Ibrahim, the one carrying the box into the sleeping bay who had confronted the intruder, stared at the wall behind Kaamil and said, “No.”
Kaamil stepped in front of Yousef. “Do you know how the intruder got in?”
“How would I know?” Yousef said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe he got in when the Mexican brought the girls.”
Kaamil wanted to laugh at the man’s stupid attempt to blame his action on someone else. The smell of tobacco was still strong on him.
“Do you know the Koran, Yousef? Do you know that the Prophet commands us to do what is just and forbids us to do what is evil? You know that, Yousef?” Kaamil asked quietly.
“Of course, and ‘allows them as lawful what is good, and prohibits them from what is bad,’” Yousef said, finishing the sura Kaamil had paraphrased.
“And do you consider lying something that is good, or is something that is bad?”
In that moment, the look in Yousef’s eyes signaled he understood Kaamil knew and that he was about to die. It was also the moment Kaamil whipped the Glock around and shot the man in the heart, took a step to his left and shot Ibrahim.
“Let that be a lesson,” he said to Abed and Rashid, as he put the Glock down on the command console. “Lying to me will kill you. Not being a warrior and stopping an intruder when you have the chance, will kill you as well. Now, no one else knows someone broke in tonight, and no one else is ever going to know. We failed to secure this facility. It will not happen again. Keep these two here until the men are in bed. Then remove them with the party trash. If anyone asks, they were selected for a mission and haven’t returned yet.”
Kaamil walked out of the command center and headed back to the ranch house. He had a growing suspicion that someone had him in his sights, and was about to pull the trigger.
Chapter 36
It took twenty minutes to reach the Yukon and another fifteen minutes for Drake to walk point and lead the way back to Hwy. 35. When he climbed in, they turned left to follow the Mount Hood Loop back to Portland.
Drake pulled off the balaclava and sat back in his seat for a moment with his eyes closed.
“You were a little slow with that last dog. Just wanted to mention that, in case there’s a next time. Age and all, though, you did all right.”
“Come on, man, you gotta love the beauty of it all. I waited until that last dog was in the air, so you’d remember how much you need me. How much fun would it have been for you, if I’d shot those dogs when they were a hundred yards back?”
“You’re right, Mike. Foolish of me to think you’d take the shot when it would be a challenge, when you could wait and take the easy shot.”
“Oh, man, that is not fair. I had your six. You used to sneak into a place and not wake everybody up.” Mike laughed when he glanced over and saw the feigned look of hurt on his friend’s face. “So, what’d you see down there?”
“Not what I expected. There was a sleeping bay, like on a military base, then a string of private rooms. Reminded me of our old Delta quarters-a bed, a small desk and a wall locker. In two of the rooms, there were Korans on the desks and prayer rugs on the floors.”
“So what’s ISIS doing, training Saudi security guys?” Mike asked as they drove past the Mount Hood Ranger Station.
“I don’t think they’re training Saudis. The guys I saw are American blacks. The rooms with the prayer rugs had security staff uniforms for the chemical weapons depot in Umatilla hanging on the lockers.”
In the ensuing silence, both men thought about what that could mean.
“You’re going to have to tell someone about this,” Mike said. “We’ve had enough homegrown terrorism in the Northwest to know these nut cases are a menace. They’re just stupid enough to hit an Army chemical depot. I have clients in and around the depot red zone. I know how dangerous that shit is. With thirty-seven hundred tons of old chemical weapons stored there, an explosion or fire in the storage area with a strong wind blowing and a lot of people are going to die.”
They were driving through a primeval forest, with canopies of towering, old fir trees almost blotting out the stars as they drove down the old Barlow Road. It was the last leg of the Oregon Trail that had brought settlers to the fertile Willamette Valley. The thought of thousands dying from one of man’s modern inventions of war seemed inappropriate in a place of such dark and ancient beauty.
“Who can I tell?” Drake asked, staring ahead into darkness beyond the headlights. “I broke into the place. By the time anyone could serve a search warrant, they won’t find Korans, prayer rugs, or depot uniforms. Maybe there’s an explanation I’m not seeing. ISIS does train security personnel, there’s no reason they can’t be training people to work at the chemical depot. Who’s going to do anything, just because I say I saw some Korans and prayer rugs? They’d just say I’m an Islamaphobe.”
Mike turned to look at his friend. “When did you start worrying about what other people think? We used to throw together mission plans on a lot less. ISIS and this ranch operation smell, and you and I know it.”
He was right. Drake’s suspicions and anger at being targeted had propelled him this far, but he felt a deep and foreboding reluctance to getting involved with his government again. He’d been a pawn on a chessboard when he was an operator in Delta Force. He didn’t have any desire to get involved with the FBI or DHS and be a tool for someone else again.
He also couldn’t stand by while Kaamil and Roberto Valencia and their crew might be planning something that would endanger thousands of innocent people.
“Okay, you’re right. Just because my little sneak-and-peek at the ranch won’t convince anyone, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. If they won’t listen, then we’ll have to see if my father-in-law can help, as a last resort.”
Drake opened his cell phone and scrolled down to the number Liz Strobel had given him. It wasn’t midnight yet, and he hoped she was in her room and not out partying somewhere.
Six rings on her phone and an invitation to leave a message told him she was either out, or choosing not to answer his call. He knew he could call the Senator at any hour, but that would only lead eventually back to Strobel. He would wait until tomorrow.
“She’s not answering. Let’s get back and get some sleep. I have a feeling we might have a busy schedule the next couple of days, once I raise an alarm. Any chance you can stay around for a few more days?” Drake asked.
“Why, you planning on going it alone like we used to, if you can’t get anyone to listen? I need to get back to the office tomorrow, but I might be able to return to keep your ass out of trouble.”