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The guy in the Australian uniform watched the car behind them and said quickly, “It’ll take you to Bathurst Island. About fifty miles north of here. It was where we thought we’d have the least explaining to do as far as flying you out. If we’d done it at the Darwin Airport, we might get stopped by the authorities. There’s already a small passenger jet there waiting for you. No passenger manifests, no flight plans. Small airstrip.”

Henry said, “So we’re once again getting flown to an island. And the CIA is involved. Look, I hate to be a spoilsport, but we tried this a few weeks ago and we ended up getting dropped off at a secret Chinese military base.”

The two men in the front seat looked at each other and then back at Henry like he was crazy.

Henry stared back and blinked.

The Humvees stopped at a large military base gate. There were sandbags stacked up into bunkers on either side of the road. Machine guns pointed at the cars as they approached. A gate guard in the same uniform as Major Brundle walked toward the convoy of two Humvees and one Australian police car, complete with flashing light. The gate guard looked confused. Brundle got out of the driver’s seat and held up his ID to the gate guard.

He said to the gate guard, “Sergeant, I’ve got high-priority passengers that need to get over to the pads for immediate transport. I don’t know what this idiot in the police car is doing, but I might need your help. Whatever he tells you, he has absolutely no authority here on our base.”

Henry watched as the Interpol man who had arrested them the night before got out of the car, holding up a badge. The driver remained in the police car. The Interpol officer’s face was red as he looked at David and Henry in the back of the Humvee.

“I demand that you turn over my prisoners to me immediately!” He had a French accent.

Major Brundle looked at the gate guard, who looked uneasy. Then he looked back at the Interpol man. “These are US citizens. We are US Marines. I have been ordered to turn them over to the proper US authorities immediately.”

“Under whose authority? What is your name?”

“My name?” the big man said. “You don’t know my name? Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?”

The Interpol man said, “No.” He was perplexed at the question.

“You really don’t know my name? You’re sure?”

The French-accented man was red-faced. “No, I assure you that I do not!”

“Good.” Brundle had been covering his name tag, which was stitched on his chest. He kept his hand covering his name and walked back into the Humvee. He told the gate guard, “Don’t let them in, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Sergeant took hold of the M-16 that was slung over his shoulder, keeping it pointed at the ground. The Interpol man began swearing in French, but remained where he was.

They drove around a set of hangars. Henry heard the engines of the large grey aircraft starting up as they approached a wide-open area that was apparently an airport for these strange-looking aircraft. They had wings like a plane, but two small rotors like a helicopter on each side.

Henry said, “Do these things really fly?”

The Humvees stopped fifty yards behind the aircraft.

“Okay, listen up, gents. You’re going to get IDs and a phone on the plane. If they check you when you land in Dubai—”

“Dubai?”

“—just say you’re tourists. They’ll have someone pick you up at the airport and Chase will take it from there.”

David shook hands with the two men in the front seat. “Thanks, guys. Listen… before we go, I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound crazy, but it’s the truth.”

David gave them the two-minute version of everything that had happened to them on the island.

When he was finished, Brundle said, “Is that what this is all about? The Chinese?”

David and Henry both nodded. Then David thanked them again and he and Henry walked up the rear ramp entrance of the Osprey. An enlisted air crewman helped them to put on a vest and helmet, then strapped them into the passenger seats. The twin engines grew enormously loud, and then they slowly came to a hover. Henry watched the base behind them grow smaller as they moved forward and began to climb. The blue lights of the Interpol car were still flashing at the entrance.

A few moments later, they were flying north over the ocean.

Chapter 15

Twelve Hours Later

Chase and David embraced in the lobby of the Burj Al Arab hotel.

David’s voice broke as he hugged his brother. “Hey, bro. It’s good to see you.”

Chase gave him three hard pats on the back while they hugged. “Hey, man.” He held his shoulder and looked him over. “Let’s get you upstairs. Come on.”

Following Chase, David said, “Chase, this is Henry. Henry, my brother Chase.” Chase shook the short man’s hand as they walked.

They took the elevator up to the twenty-first floor and walked into a room fit for a king. Deep violet decorative bedcovers and pillows. Gold trim on all of the furniture. The room’s expansive window overlooked the beach to the north, and David could just make out the large towering skyscraper in the distance.

Three men sat in the room. David thought they looked a lot like the SEALs Chase used to work with. Two had beards. They were all young and fit and looked like they knew how to fight. All three wore button-down shirts and shoulder holsters. Suit jackets were draped behind their chairs. They nodded at Chase as he came in.

Chase said to the group of men, “How’s our friend?”

“Typing away.”

“Any word from the boss?”

“He’s on his way.”

“Thanks.”

Chase didn’t introduce David and Henry. The men didn’t ask any questions. Chase led David and Henry to a sitting area beyond the men.

David said to his brother, “This is some hotel. Why are we here?”

Chase said, “We were in need of a secure location for another project. This hotel is on its own island, connected by a single short road to the mainland. It’s the only road in or out. Doesn’t get much more secure than that. The room is courtesy of a friend in UAE intelligence. We figured that it would be the best place to stash you until we decide on our next steps.”

David looked at his brother. He wasn’t dressed like his usual rugged self. David was used to seeing him in casual clothes or his fatigues that he wore with the SEALs. Today, Chase had on shiny leather wingtips and a tailored suit. “Chase, what exactly do you do here?”

Chase gave him a sheepish look. “Just have a seat. We’ll get into all of that.” David had the feeling that he was about to learn a lot about his brother.

A knock at the door. One of the three men opened it and a man entered. He was a black man in his mid- to late fifties, with close-cropped greying hair.

“Gents, this is Elliot Jackson. He is head of the CIA station here in Dubai, and my boss. David, Elliot’s also a friend of Dad’s. You can trust him.” They made eye contact.

Surprised by several of the things Chase had just said, David managed to simply say, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Same.”

Elliot didn’t look very happy, but they shook hands.

David saw an older Asian man in the adjoining room. A glass window separated them. Three computer monitors stood on a table in front of the man. He stopped typing for a moment and looked up at David. He looked worn down. He turned back to the computer and continued.

Chase saw David’s expression. “That’s the person who we originally set this room up for. He’s working on another project, and he also needs to keep a low profile.”