Then something happened that had never happened before. The dagger caught on his robe and made a small sound, a tiny sound, a soft rustle on the night wind.
Carter turned without thinking and brought his left arm up, knocking the thrust away. The dagger gleamed in the moonlight. Carter tried a hand strike. Five blocked and lashed out with a kick for the groin. Nick turned just enough so that it landed on his hip. The power of the blow threw him back against a wall. His left leg collapsed. He fell on his knees to the ground.
Five moved in for the kill but he made another mistake. He ignored the woman.
Selena landed a kick to his kidneys. Five arched backward in pain. He spun, shocked to find himself fighting a woman. Selena and Five moved back and forth in a violent martial dance, striking and parrying. The blade flashed in the moonlight. A fight to the death.
Carter struggled to his feet. Somewhere in his mind he could hear AKs firing, smell the hot dust of an Afghan street. He shook it off.
It looked like Selena was in trouble. He'd never seen martial arts like this. This was out of his league, but he had to try. Before he could intervene, Selena landed a kick to the chest. Five staggered back and dropped the dagger. She kicked out again, landed a blow on the thigh, then spun in a high kick that struck the neck. Nick heard the bones snap.
It was over.
Selena went down on one knee, drawing in deep breaths. Nick knelt beside her.
"Are you hurt? Are you all right?"
"I'm okay." She took another breath. "Winded. Need to work out more."
"Work out more? Jesus, Selena."
"I think I might have a cracked rib," she said.
"That was something. I thought he had you."
"Twenty years of practice and it was barely enough. Next time I see Master Kim I'll have to thank him."
Carter looked down at the dead man, sprawled in the sand.
"He's got a tattoo on his arm. It's Arabic."
Selena stood up, holding her side. She winced. She bent over the figure to look at the inked marking. The ink was old, the blue faded. The tattoo had been there for a while.
خمسة
"It says, 'Five'."
"That's all? Five?"
"Maybe it's a tribal tattoo of some sort."
Nick searched the body. On the other arm was another tattoo, the Shia ambigram.
"He's one of the assassins."
"Why come after us?"
Nick looked down at the pockmarked face. "I saw him in the library. He must have seen you reading that manuscript and we became targets."
"But someone could wait there forever and no one would ever see those papers."
"I guess that didn't matter. It could be recent, since they started killing people."
"Then what I found must be important."
"Yeah."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nick called Stephanie. "He had a tattoo of the ambigram."
"Anything else about him?"
"A tattoo that says 'Five' in Arabic. From his looks he could be from anywhere in the Middle east. No ID. No other marks. He had an antique dagger. I'm looking at it now. It's a nasty piece of work, looks like a stiletto, just a long, narrow V with a blood groove down the middle and a straight hilt. The ambigram is worked into the guard. It's sharp enough that I could shave with it. Nothing else."
"Why you and Selena? He couldn't have known you were coming."
"I think he was waiting in the library to spot anyone trying to find out more about this secret order. Not waiting for us in particular."
"What did Selena find?"
"I'll let her tell you." Carter handed the phone to Selena. Bruises darkened her arms and legs. She had to be careful taking a deep breath. It could have been worse. She could be dead. He could be dead, a dagger buried in his neck.
"Steph. I found something that indicates the cult may have survived."
"What makes you think that?"
"A manuscript from the fifteenth century, written by a Sunni about the corruption of Shia beliefs. It mentions a splinter group from the Hashishin who went underground. The author vilifies them. He repeats rumors of a hidden sanctuary or school in what is now Pakistan. He relates conversations with travelers of the period and gives a few landmarks."
"A school for assassins?"
"The narrator says they thought were the only true guardians of Islam. All of Islam, not just the Shia branch. They were loathed by the other Shi'ites. They were dedicated to restoration of the true belief, as they saw it."
"How were they supposed to do that?"
"When the time is right, Allah is supposed to lead them to victory against all of Islam's enemies, within and without. Holy war. Jihad."
"I suppose there's some idea about when the time will be right?"
"Not specific. Only that there will be a sign of some kind."
"What, like Revelations? The moon turning red? That kind of thing?"
Selena shifted the phone to her other ear. "It doesn't say."
"Let me talk to Nick again."
Selena handed the phone back to Nick.
"Nick, the bug quit on the truck."
He waited.
"The last time it worked they were north of you on the border between Mali and Algeria, not far from a place called Taoudenni."
"When was that?"
"This morning. It might still be there, but I can't find it on satellite. That terrain is very rugged. There are a lot of places to hide and they could head north or west. They're only moving at night."
Carter thought for a moment. "We can't let that truck get away. I think Selena and I have to go after it. Maybe a little recon is in order."
"You can't just drive up there. Not without an armed convoy."
"I'm thinking air. Rent a plane and pilot here. We spot the truck, we can track it again. We don't find it, we come back and think out our next move. We find it, we come back and figure how to take it out."
"I don't know, Nick…"
"You have a better idea?"
He heard her sigh. "No. I don't. You're on the scene. It's your call."
Right, he thought. "How are Ronnie and Lamont?"
"Lamont took a round right through the bone and he lost a lot of blood. His upper arm is smashed to bits. He's lucky to be alive. He almost lost the arm. They patched it back together with plates. Ronnie's got a bad hand where he cut himself. Might make it stiff when he heals up."
"Tell them I said some people will do anything to get off work."
Stephanie laughed.
Carter ended the call.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nick asked around at the airport and tracked down an American pilot named Harmon. Harmon set up a meet in a bar. According to him, the only bar in town that served cold beer. Mali practiced a tolerant Islam, the kind the fanatics wanted to consign to the flames. There weren’t many bars in this Muslim nation, but there were a few.
The place felt like a time warp from the 30s. It was half full with a mix of foreigners and locals. The bartender wore a white jacket that had seen better days. The back bar featured spotted mirrors, a dozen bottles and arched wooden grillwork. Wooden ceiling fans pretended to stir the stifling air. Scarred tables were scattered about the room. An old upright piano stood next to a small stage. A fat white man in a white suit and a panama hat sat draped over a stool at the bar.
The only thing missing was Humphrey Bogart and someone playing Cole Porter tunes. Behind the stage Nick saw a faded curtain. Carter half expected Marlene Dietrich, or maybe Amelia Earhart, to step through that curtain and give them a song.
Over in the corner four Americans in civvies with solid builds and buzz cuts talked among themselves. He knew the look. Special Ops, probably Army Rangers. The US had advisors here. Mali was another new front in the so-called war on terrorism.