The first picture on the monitor was of Al-Bayati.
"Meet one of the thorns in Langley's side," Elizabeth said.
The picture was in black and white, taken from a distance. It was clear enough to show the brutality in Al-Bayati's features. His head was large, with jutting brows and a sloped forehead. His hair was black and thick. His arms seemed unusually long and powerful, almost simian.
"Primitive looking dude," Diego said. "Reminds me of a guy I knew a long time ago, back in Colorado."
"You're from Colorado?" Ronnie asked.
"Born and raised. I come from outside of Fort Collins, north of Denver. My grandfather emigrated there from Mexico back in the 40s. He grew beets. Now the water's been ripped off and the land's dried up. It would break his heart if he could see it."
Elizabeth tapped her pen.
"Let's stay focused. Al-Bayati sells classified information to the wrong people. Hezbolla protects him and leaves him alone because Tehran tells them to. As you heard from Lucas, he sells black-market arms and stolen technology. There are disturbing rumors about him but no one has ever been able to substantiate them."
"What kind of rumors?" Ronnie asked.
"That children go into his villa in Lebanon and never come out again."
"Sounds like a charming fellow," Selena said
"He seldom leaves his villa. Show us the house, Steph."
The picture changed to show Bayati's sprawling mansion, set on a steep cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. The villa had the classic look of whitewashed walls and red tiled roof. It had been built in the shape of a U around a tiled courtyard. The open part of the U featured a broad fountain surrounded by shade trees and manicured shrubbery. On the Mediterranean side, a wide patio behind the main part of the house ended at a large pool. Beyond the pool a triple row of gleaming razor wire lined the edge of the cliff. Hundreds of feet below, the dark waves of the Mediterranean Sea crashed and foamed against jagged rocks rising up from the water.
The cliff and the water formed a security barrier for one side of the compound. The other three sides were protected by a high, whitewashed stone wall topped with loops of razor wire and shards of broken glass. There was one entrance in, through a massive iron gate. A guardhouse inside the compound sat next to the gate. Several cars were parked on the left side of the compound.
Nick said, "He has a Quad .50 sitting there in the shade. See it? By the wing where all the cars are?"
"I'll be damned," Ronnie said. "I thought those were all in museums."
The Quad .50 consisted of four Browning .50 caliber machine guns controlled by a motorized turret mounted on a truck or platform. Once those guns opened up, anything in front of them was chopped into mincemeat. Low-flying planes, vehicles, buildings and people stood no chance against it.
"Think it's operational?"
"Bet on it," Nick said. "If we end up going in there we'd better make sure nobody gets a chance to use it."
"That wall must be sixteen feet high if it's an inch," Ronnie said. "That razor wire looks tough."
"The cliff might be the best way in," Diego said. "Looks like about an hour climb, maybe more, depending on the rock. He's got wire there, too, on the edge of the pool."
"You've done a lot of climbing?" Nick asked.
"Free and roped," Diego said. "I like the challenge."
Selena listen to the interchange and thought Diego was fitting right in. He'd proved himself in Beirut. Still it was odd without Lamont here. She wondered if Ramirez had any dive training. With Lamont gone, she was the only one on the team with any serious experience. No one else was qualified for the deep work.
Elizabeth interrupted her thoughts.
"This is early days and we need more Intel. Just the same, I want to begin thinking about what it would take to get into that compound and interview Bayati."
"You make it sound like something for the evening news," Ronnie said.
"You know exactly what I mean," Elizabeth said. "Nick, I want you and Selena to leave for London tonight and check out that scroll in the British Museum. You'll fly commercial on your own passports."
"What about weapons? Every time we check our weapons and get to England there's a hassle about claiming them."
"Leave them. You're just going to the museum. I'll arrange something with the embassy just in case. If you start shooting people over there the Brits won't be the only ones that are unhappy. I'll be unhappy. I don't think you want that."
"Diego and Ronnie?" Nick said.
"I want Ronnie here working with Sergeant Ramirez. Ronnie, bring him up to speed on how we do everything around here. There are lots of things he needs to know. Diego, you and Ronnie start working out how you would take that villa if it becomes necessary. When Nick and Selena get back, we'll go over it."
"Copy that, Director."
"Any questions?"
There weren't any.
"Have a good flight, Nick."
CHAPTER 15
Nazar Al-Bayati sat on the patio of his fortified compound and looked out over the Mediterranean at the blazing ball of the sun dropping toward the horizon. He never got tired of the Mediterranean sunsets, especially when the fiery colors were partly obscured by black clouds, as if the world burned. It reminded him of pleasant times spent in the presence of heat and darkness, fire and the sweet smoke of incense.
The scroll was never far from his mind. Solomon had been one of the great ancient magicians, in the tradition of Bayati's ancestors. It was said that objects of power had been buried with him. There was one in particular Bayati sought. If it was in the tomb and if he could find it, the world would be his. Bayati believed in magic. He had seen too many strange phenomenon in his life to think that magic wasn't real. Of course it required great skill and preparation to hold and use it. He knew what was required.
Rituals and sacrifices, rites that were older than the pyramids.
Today began a new lunar cycle. Nazar absentmindedly fingered his crotch in anticipation of the ceremony that would take place later. Before then there was business to attend to.
He rose, went into the house and beckoned a servant.
"Find Rhoades and send him to my study."
"At once, Abu."
The man scurried away. Al-Bayati went to a sideboard of rosewood inlaid with gold that stood by the near wall, a piece that had once graced the Emperor Napoleon's private study. He pressed a carved rosette on the corner and a panel slid down on the end, revealing a hidden compartment. A dozen foil wrapped balls the size of marbles rested on a tray inside. Beside them were six glass vials containing tablets of an odd brown color. The last item inside the cabinet was an ancient green bottle.
Al-Bayati took one of the balls and placed it on top of the sideboard on a silver tray. He opened a vial, shook two pills onto his hand and set the vial down. He took two more pills and set them down next to the ball. He took the cork out of the green bottle and washed down the pills with a swallow of the liquid it contained. The liquor burned on its way down. Al-Bayati put the cork back in the bottle, the bottle and the vial back into the cabinet, and touched the rosette again. The panel sprang upward and locked with a sharp click. Al-Bayati sat down in a broad leather chair.
Addison Rhoades came into the room. Al-Bayati felt the first rush of the drugs ripple through him in a wave. The main effect was still an hour away. By then everything would be ready.
"You sent for me?"
"You know about Yusuf?"
Rhoades nodded.
"What happened?"
Rhoades shrugged. "Perhaps he made a deal with the wrong people or gave them the wrong goods."