‘Jack,’ Garcia demanded, ‘what are you talking about?’
Sensing trouble, McNutt used his scope to search for Sarah in the darkness. He was shocked to see her sprinting across the desert.
Through the optics of his rifle, she seemed to be completely out of control, as if she no longer gave a damn about herself. Regrettably, he had seen this type of behavior on the battlefield before, and it never ended well. He prayed a kill shot wouldn’t be necessary, but he wanted to be ready just in case she threatened anyone on his team.
‘Chief, I’ve got eyes on Sarah. She’s sprinting toward base camp like her pants are on fire. What the fuck is going on?’
‘She’s running toward me?’ Garcia blurted.
‘Relax,’ Cobb said to them.
McNutt continued to watch. ‘Chief, she’s got something in her hand. I can’t tell what it is. I don’t think it’s a gun, but I can’t tell from here. Just say the word.’
‘Sarah,’ Cobb said, ‘don’t do it unless you’re sure.’
‘Do what?’ Garcia demanded. ‘Am I in danger?’
‘Just say the word, chief,’ McNutt repeated.
Now that she was far enough from the compound, she slowed to a halt then turned back to watch the desert. ‘Jack, I’m sure about this. This needs to be done.’
Cobb took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.
He had been there many times before.
He felt her agony. And anger.
Contrary to McNutt’s concerns, Cobb knew this wasn’t about Sarah losing control. This was about reclaiming it. Two of her friends had died a few minutes apart, and she had been unable to save either. Although she couldn’t bring them back to life, she could even the score by killing the people that she held responsible for their deaths. She had already killed Kamal, and now she wanted to kill the rest.
And he wasn’t going to stop her.
‘Josh, stand down. Repeat. Stand down.’
McNutt did as he was told. ‘Standing down. Repeat. Standing down.’
‘Josh,’ Cobb said.
‘Yeah, chief.’
‘You might want to watch this.’
‘Watch what, chief?’
‘The fireworks.’
Sarah started the show with the touch of a button.
A moment later, the Semtex that she had rigged in the armory erupted. The explosion devastated the weapons depot and rocked the foundation of the bunker, but that was just the beginning. As the heat of the blast ignited the barrels of ammonium nitrate, a wall of flame roared through every room and corridor in the complex. And just as she had escaped through the hatch, so did the raging inferno.
Only it used every tunnel, all at once.
Pillars of flame rose high into the air, lighting the sky and turning night into day. For those unfortunate souls in the tunnels themselves, they were set on fire and launched into the heavens like meteorites that had changed their minds. Bodies were silhouetted against the flames as those who remained in battle spun frantically in confusion, searching for an escape from near-certain death. But before they could move, the trembling sands beneath their feet pulled them down into the depths of the earth.
As the fire consumed them, everyone on the battlefield was buried, crushed, swallowed, and scorched by the collapsing terrain. Like a biblical horror, their bodies melted as the heat consumed them. To the Muharib among them, it was as if Amun had brought forth his inescapable wrath to punish them for their sins. They accepted their fate without question.
For Hassan’s soldiers, it was much, much worse.
For them, there was no salvation.
There was only death.
By the time McNutt and Cobb found each other in the darkness, the desert was eerily quiet. Despite the glowing purr of the sinkhole and the occasional pop of munitions, there were no more signs of life. The grunts and groans of war had given way to the shrieks and cries of death, but now even those had ceased.
The land had been swarming with activity.
Hundreds of souls, committed to their cause.
Now only they remained.
Cobb looked him over. ‘You okay?’
McNutt nodded. ‘Yeah, chief. I’m good.’
His usual jovial demeanor had been replaced by a melancholy sadness. While his humor often hid it, he had come to think of the team as family — something he’d never had as a child. Having known Jasmine for less than six months only added to his misery. In his mind, they were just getting started.
They walked toward the road in silence, each contemplating what the future had in store. They knew they still had five millions dollars coming to them for their original mission, but the money seemed meaningless. They would have gladly traded it to have Jasmine back. One thing was certain: Papineau would keep all of his promises to her, or they would spend the rest of their lives destroying his.
It was nearly dawn as they reached the makeshift parking lot just off the desert road. As they approached the Mercedes SUV, it was clear that something wasn’t right. Though they were nearly a mile from the battlefield, there was blood splattered everywhere. The entire front half of the vehicle was doused in sticky crimson.
They spread out, converging on the scene from both sides.
‘What happened here?’ McNutt whispered.
Cobb shook his head. ‘It wasn’t like this before.’
A few seconds passed before they spoke again.
‘You need to see this, chief.’
Cobb hustled over, following the trail of blood on the ground until he spotted a body slumped against the door. Stepping closer, he saw Hassan’s cold, lifeless face staring up at them. His throat had been cut from ear to ear.
The wound told them everything they needed to know.
There was at least one Muharib unaccounted for.
Maybe more.
80
Cobb stood at the helm alone, silently staring at the whitecaps that surrounded them. Though the sky was clear and bright, the winds stirred a heavy chop in the water. The yacht pitched and rolled in the waves, breaking the normal serenity of the sea.
He thought it was a fitting touch.
It had been a bumpy ride.
After picking up Sarah in the desert, Cobb had driven to their base camp where Garcia was anxiously awaiting their return. He had packed and stacked their gear in advance of their arrival and only needed to load it into the Humvee before they could leave. They had worked quickly and quietly, all of them hoping to put the oasis behind them, as if that would be enough to make them forget the tragedy.
Obviously, it did no such thing.
They eventually made their way north to the Egyptian coast where they transferred everything to the yacht before heading out to sea. The plan was to lie low in international waters for a few days before they figured out their next move — if there was a next move. The truth was that they were keeping to themselves. Not because they were angry at one another; they simply needed some time alone.
A chance to think. A chance to grieve.
That ended shortly after noon when Papineau joined Cobb on the bridge.
Cobb turned to greet him. ‘Did Cyril make it to Athens safely?’
Papineau nodded. ‘He arrived about an hour ago.’
With the Muharib stronghold in ruins, Manjani no longer felt the need to hide. If the last few months had taught him anything, it was to make use of whatever days he had left. Between the massacre of his students, the disaster in Alexandria, and Jasmine’s execution, he learned how fleeting time could be. With that in mind, he decided to reestablish contact with his relatives, all of who had presumed him dead.