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It was what Chase’s trainers at the Farm would term a “less-than-ideal field-of-fire situation.”

Footsteps sounded from the exit where the crowd had been running. A lone woman, covered from head to toe in a flowing black robe and burka. She walked through the group, seemingly oblivious to the violence that had just taken place. But she wasn’t. A slit revealed eyes that Chase recognized, and they took in everything.

The five men all held their guns out now and were maneuvering. Pakvar and his men took slow steps to get a better angle on Chase. The woman in the black robe confused them and caused them to pause.

The nearest of Pakvar’s men yelled something at her that could be loosely translated as “Get out of here, you stupid bitch.”

She kept walking. They all watched her in curiosity as she walked up to the unsuspecting Iranian. When she was about ten feet away, she raised a Beretta and casually fired one round through the head of Pakvar’s first man.

Chase dropped to the ground, twisted, and fired at Pakvar’s second man behind him. Two rounds, center mass. He went down hard. No blood. Possibly wearing body armor. Chase fired another round and hit his temple.

Pakvar was open-mouthed in astonishment after witnessing the woman’s action. He quickly sidestepped and hid behind one of the large white posts that rose up through the floor and provided stability to the mall structure. The woman ran toward Chase and grabbed his hand. Waleed, Chase, and the woman turned and sprinted through the mall.

Chase looked back and saw that Pakvar was starting to follow them. He fired a few rounds in Pakvar’s direction and then took cover again. He turned to the woman. “Lisa, aim where I’m aiming.”

He raised his gun and fired at the location in the glass where the cracks and holes had formed from the MAC-10 rounds. Chase emptied his chamber and saw more cracks spreading through the giant glass fish tank. Lisa’s rounds finished the job. The pressure of the water forced the glass to shatter, and in excess of two million gallons of salt water thrust out from the shattered aquarium wall.

A violent wall of blue water surged from right to left. Chase watched Pakvar get swept away, then turned and followed his two companions as they ran through the aquarium tunnel and out to safety.

Chapter 10

Al Dhafra Air Base, United Arab Emirates
Three Weeks Later

Elliot said, “So I’ve got good news and bad news. What do you want first?”

They sat in a small room connected to the Tactical Operations Center. Chase said, “I always like to go with the bad first.”

“I couldn’t get you the air support I thought I would be able to get you.”

“What was the air support you were going to get me?”

“I was trying to get you a helo insert. I thought I might be able to hook you up with the guys from the 160th and their stealth helos. The same ones that DEVGRU used for the Abbottabad raid.”

“Didn’t they crash one of those?”

Elliot frowned. “Yeah. Actually, now that you mention it, that’s the same objection that they had when I asked about it.”

“So then… this would seem like good news, not bad.”

Elliot pointed at him and said, “I really appreciate the positive outlook you have. So, when was your last HALO jump?”

HALO stood for High Altitude Low Opening, a specific method of parachute insertion. Chase had completed many of those jumps when he was with the SEAL Teams, but he was not current, and definitely not proficient enough for a night jump. It was a perishable skill, something one had to practice often to keep good at.

“It’s been a while.”

“Ever used a wingsuit?”

“Once. It was a cross-training exercise we did with the Army. They’re pretty high-speed.” Elliot was giving him a funny look. Chase said, “You want me to wear a wingsuit?”

“It’s the best way to stay far enough from Abu Musa so that we don’t raise any suspicion.”

“How far can I travel on one of those?”

“The world record is fifteen nautical miles.”

Chase said, “Assume I’m not the world-record holder.”

“I think you should be able to at least get ten miles out of it. But you should probably talk to the pilots about the winds and all that. Listen, you’re the Special Operations guy.”

“Minor details.”

“I got you a Cessna Caravan. An Air Force plane. They’ll be your insert. But the wingsuit isn’t what I’m excited about. The good news is actually my brilliant plan to get you extracted. I want you to know it was very challenging to get someone that was able to reliably transport you and our mystery passenger off of Abu Musa.”

Chase said, “I’m sure.”

“I mean, it was really challenging. Like, no contractors, government, or military guys were suitable for this. Too high a risk of getting caught. And in my opinion, a covert operation is like going to a crowded church on Christmas Eve. You always need a good exit strategy.”

Elliot was using his hands as he spoke. He was really trying to sell this one. Whatever the punch line was, Chase didn’t think he was going to like it.

“I’m sure you were able to come up with something…”

“Oh, I was. A crack team… well, more like an individual than a team… but he’s got a great reputation for delivering whenever we’ve needed to smuggle guys into or out of Iran.”

“Nice. So far, so good.”

Elliot looked like he had something more to say. Something that Chase might not like. Chase said, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Well… about this guy… he’s a little… how should I put it… he’s a bit… junior…”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You know, like a bit less experienced than some of the internal Agency support that you might be accustomed to.”

“How junior?”

“Well, let’s look back at the positives. He’s been one hundred percent reliable in all of the work we’ve sent his way. All three times. And—”

“You’ve only used him three times?”

“And he came at quite a discount from the private sector guys.”

“So he was the lowest bidder? Is this really the mission that you’re trying to save money on?”

“Plus, if you guys get rolled up by the Iranians, he has no ties to us, so it will be easier to completely disavow all knowledge. Of course, you guys will be totally fucked. But I’ll come out squeaky clean. Brilliant, as far as I’m concerned.”

Chase smirked. “This sounds like some top-notch planning on your part. So what’s the downside?”

“He’s sixteen.”

“Sixteen?”

“Well, he’ll be sixteen next month. He told me his birthday was coming up.”

“Fifteen? You’re having me get picked up from an island that Iran uses as a military outpost with a fifteen-year-old kid?”

“No. No, Chase. It’s not like that. Well… sort of. Yes. But I’m starting to question your positive outlook.” Elliot smiled. “We’ll have a SOCOM Mark V boat pick you guys up once you’re out of the twelve-nautical-mile arc.”

Chase rolled his eyes. He stood up and looked at the nautical chart on the wall, the one that showed the Arabian Gulf. Abu Musa was only about fifty miles north of Dubai.

Elliot said, “Look, Chase, you are the one that convinced me that Waleed’s man Gorji is legit. I went out on a limb to make this happen. If this Iranian bitcoin-mining operation really has some bigger nefarious purpose, then we need proof. Just like you said. And if this Satoshi character can provide us with that proof, then we need to bust him out of there. If you’re not comfortable going, I could try to get some SOF guys pulled off their ISIS missions in Iraq and—”