Nick had darkened his skin and applied a false beard. It was good enough to pass a quick glance. His clothes were Beirut casual He wore a cheap striped shirt open at the collar, jeans and a shapeless jacket that concealed his pistol. An unspoken attitude completed the disguise. Ronnie and Lamont rode in the back of the van, crammed in next to a built in console used for television broadcasts.
Late afternoon sun shone through gleaming rolls of razor wire lining the top of Al-Bayati's walls, throwing twisted shadows onto the dusty street below. The street was almost empty. Whatever was happening in Syria had drawn off the Hezbollah terrorists that usually frequented the area.
Nick slowed as they approached the compound and stopped in front of the massive iron gate. One of Al-Bayati's men emerged from the guardhouse on the other side. He looked like something that had escaped from the primate cage at the zoo. He had a sloping forehead with thick black eyebrows that met in the middle and a chest that looked like something you could ride over Niagara Falls.
"Maybe we should have brought a battering ram," Lamont said.
"Or a tank," Nick said. "You ready, Selena?"
"Alihya Kalil, budding journalist, at your service."
"What's Alihya mean?"
"The exalted, of the highest social standing, so watch your manners."
"Yes, your Majesty."
Selena got out of the van and walked over to the gate
"As-salamu alayka," she said.
"As-salamu alayki," the guard responded. "You are the journalist here to interview? You are not expected until this afternoon." He regarded Selena with suspicion. "I watch Al Jazeera all the time. I haven't seen you before."
Selena handed a card through the gate with her name and the Al Jazeera logo on it. A white plastic ID card with her picture and official seal hung on a chain around her neck. She held it up for him to see.
"I'm new. This is my first big assignment." She turned to the van and gestured. Ronnie got out of the back with a camera. He was dressed like Nick.
"I'd like to start the piece with some background shots with you in them," Selena said. "Then I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right? It's a responsible position, protecting such an important man."
"Yes, it is." The guard puffed himself up. "An important post. Al-Bayati relies on me."
Ronnie put the camera to his shoulder and aimed it at the guard. He looked through the lens and turned it on. The guard looked through the grill work of the gate at the red light, thinking how his image would soon be seen by millions.
Selena turned to Ronnie and held up her hand to stop, telling him in Arabic that the gate was in the way of the shot. He had no idea what she'd said but the hand signal was clear enough. He lowered the camera.
"Could you please open the gate for us?"
She smiled at the guard.
He retreated to the shack and threw a switch. The gate rolled slowly to the side. Nick put the van in gear and drove into the compound. Once they were clear, the guard toggled the switch and the gate closed behind them.
Showtime, Nick thought.
He reached down by the seat, laid an MP5 across his lap and clicked off the safety. All his senses were on high alert. He looked through the cracked windshield of the van and took in the large courtyard, the steps to the entrance of the villa, the lethal shape of the half track with the Quad .50. The weapon was unmanned, the four deadly barrels at rest and pointed toward the sky. Several guards lounged in the shade at the front of the villa. He cracked his door open.
Nick watched Selena and the guard in his mirror.
"I need to look inside your van," the guard said. He began walking toward the truck.
"Get ready," Nick said to Lamont. "When I go out the door. One talking to Selena and heading this way. Three in front of the house. They're watching to see what's happening. No one's on the Quad."
"One piece of good news."
"Now."
Nick kicked the door open with his foot and came out facing the villa. Behind him, the back doors of the van banged open as Lamont piled out. The men at the villa started to stand. Nick fired a quick three round burst, then a second. Ronnie dropped the camera, took an MP5 from under his jacket and shot the guard.
Nick's first burst had taken down one of the men in front of the villa. The other two scrambled for their weapons. One of them brought up an AK and got off a burst. The bullets racketed against the metal side of the van, punching holes through the Al Jazeera logo. Lamont shot him. The last man never made it to his weapon before Ronnie put two rounds in him.
Selena reached into the truck and took another MP5 from the back. The four of them ran toward the villa entrance. A man appeared in the doorway. Lamont and Nick fired and he fell away out of sight.
Then they were through the door and inside the house. They found themselves in a large atrium with a tiled floor and a tiered fountain in the middle. Streams of clear water spouted up and fell back into the basins with a pleasant sound. After the heat outside, the room was cool and comfortable. Seven lamps with elaborate metal shades hung from the ceiling far overhead. A staircase made of flowery white and yellow tiles rose to the second floor and a balcony held up by columns of white stone. A carved stone railing followed the balcony around the sides of the atrium. Doors to more rooms were visible on the second story. Huge painted urns holding flowering trees were spaced at intervals around the ground floor of the atrium.
Two men came out of a side room firing AKs on full auto. Nick dove for cover behind one of the planters. The bullets smashed into the pot, shaking loose a rain of red blossoms and showering him with dirt. More AK rounds went by, sounding their distinctive, deadly whine. Guards emerged on the balcony above and began shooting down into the atrium.
The air filled with chips of tile and spent bullets ricocheting around the open space. The atrium echoed with the harsh explosions of the guns and the clatter of empty shell casings bouncing on the hard floor.
At a brief pause in the firing Nick leaned around the pot and shot one of the men on the balcony. The body fell over the railing and landed headfirst with a dull sound like a watermelon breaking.
Nick ducked back. "The ones on the ground floor are dead."
Selena crouched behind one of the urns. She tore the scarf from her head and dropped it on the floor. Her expression was tightlipped, grim.
He called over the noise of the gunfire. "Lamont, you and Selena cover. Ronnie, you and me, up the stair."
Ronnie nodded.
"Go."
Lamont and Selena knelt and began a steady rain of fire at the men on the second floor. The value of automatic weapons wasn't in their accuracy. It was in keeping enemies from shooting back while someone else closed on them. Nick ran for the stair with Ronnie on his heels, firing up as he went. Pieces of stone chipped away from the balustrade. A bullet grazed his thigh like a quick razor burn. He tripped and went down. Ronnie went past him on the stair. Nick ejected, jammed in a new magazine and shot another man on the balcony.
Suddenly it was quiet. After the racket of the guns, the stillness felt alien. Nick climbed to his feet.
"You all right?" Ronnie stood next to him.
"Yeah." He looked down at the bloody rip on his jeans. "Just a scratch."
Selena and Lamont came up the stairs.
"We have to clear the second floor," Nick said. "I don't want any surprises. Selena, close the front doors and watch the entrance. We don't have much time. All that noise is going to bring someone."
"The gate is closed," Selena said. "That will slow them up."
"For a while."
A few minutes later Nick, Ronnie and Lamont came back down the steps.
"Nobody there."
"The front entrance is barred and the doors are solid," Selena said. "No one's getting through without us knowing about it."