They thought they were home free, because other than the old man they’d passed near the shooting, they’d seen no one who could have possibly known what they had done, and they doubted he’d even noticed at all.
But they made it only as far as exit 61, which is to say, they didn’t make it far at all.
Four North Carolina State Highway Patrol troopers had been parked in two vehicles at the Lucky Seven Truck Stop when a call came out saying a gray GMC Terrain had been involved in a shooting on Lemont Drive. One of the witnesses reported that the vehicle had Maryland plates, and that gave local law enforcement a hint that the perpetrators might show up somewhere northbound out of the city.
And I-95 was local law enforcement’s immediate choice, as it served as the spine that went up and down the eastern seaboard.
The troopers raced their two Dodge Chargers out of the truck stop, down the on-ramp, and then they took up positions in the median facing northbound.
Four minutes and twenty seconds later a gray GMC Terrain drove by with two men inside.
The Dodge Chargers were V8s and they probably would have had no problem catching up to the 185-horsepower, four-cylinder rental SUV while in reverse, but they stayed back for a moment. Only when the troopers in the lead vehicle saw that the car they were tailing did, indeed, have Maryland plates did they turn on their lights and sirens.
The Terrain did not stop, which was just fine with the North Carolina State Highway Patrol troopers. By now dispatch had said there was a soldier from Fort Bragg dead in his own home back on Lemont Drive. These troopers had no problems at all with this felony stop turning a little rough.
Ten minutes later they had a helicopter overhead, six more vehicles in pursuit, and a roadblock across I-95.
The GMC saw the roadblock, slowed quickly, and turned to shoot off into the grassy median to try its luck going back southbound, but a cluster of silver-and-black highway patrol vehicles instantly and professionally boxed it in.
The GMC stopped horizontal to the highway, troopers poured out of their cars and SUVs, and shotguns, AR-15s, and pistols were pointed at the vehicle’s two occupants from multiple directions.
Inside the Terrain, Namir used his shaking hands to initiate a Silent Phone call with their handler. When he answered, Namir screamed into the phone. “We are surrounded by police. By God’s will, we killed the infidel, but there are many armed men around us now. What do we do?”
The man they knew as Mohammed had Namir pan the phone around in various directions, confirming they were, in fact, completely surrounded by law enforcement.
Over the phone’s speaker the two young men heard Mohammed’s calm voice. “You have done well, my brothers. Now you must surrender without incident. Don’t worry. I will dispatch forces to liberate you. I’ll send a team down today.”
“Yes, Commander Mohammed. Thank you, sir.”
“But leave your phone on, and place it on the dashboard so I can film your arrest.”
A minute later the AK and the Uzi came flying out the side windows of the GMC Terrain, then Karim raised his hands out of the passenger side, and Namir did the same out of the driver’s side. By now there were twenty-two State Highway Patrol vehicles on the scene, and the helicopter continued circling overhead. More than forty men and women kept weapons trained on the two suspects.
Following the orders of law enforcement as broadcast through the PA of one of the trooper’s vehicles, Namir opened his car door slowly, reached out with his hands in the sky, and walked backward to a point in the middle of the highway. There he was told to lower to his knees and lie facedown, with his ankles crossed and arms away from his body.
With Karim still reaching out the window with his empty hands, two officers moved forward to cuff Namir in the street. They knelt down, one put a knee in his back—
And then the entire scene erupted in a flash of light.
The two North Carolina State Highway Patrol troopers flew through the air in the explosion.
In the GMC Terrain, Karim crouched down behind the dash, first thinking someone had opened fire. But as debris rained down on his car and smashed his windshield, he looked out over the dash and through the spiderwebbed glass. Namir had been blown to bits, along with the two troopers. More members of law enforcement lay on the ground, clearly injured.
Karim’s ears rang; Namir had not activated his suicide vest, so Karim had no idea what had happened.
And he never would.
His own suicide vest detonated ten seconds after Namir’s, and the Terrain exploded in a ball of fire, firing projectiles out in all directions and injuring more of the troopers all around.
Above the highway, the helicopter had to bank to avoid the plume of smoke and debris that shot straight into the sky.
30
Jack Ryan, Jr., had worked till midnight analyzing the private-actor angle of the U.S. intelligence data breach, but he forced himself to roll out of bed the next morning at five, slip on his summer running gear, and stagger down his condo stairs in the Oronoco Waterfront Residences.
It was less than a five-minute jog to the Hendley Associates building, but Jack walked it, using the ten minutes to wake up a little, to allow some heat to build in his muscles, and to give him time to win the little mental fight he was having with himself. Most of him wanted to go back to bed for a couple more hours, but enough of him wanted to get some PT in this morning, knowing that it would make his brain work better during the day, that he kept putting one leg in front of the other until the next thing he knew, he was in the parking garage under his office giving tired but uplifting fist bumps to his cousin and Domingo Chavez.
A minute later Midas and Adara stepped out of the stairwell; from the sweat on their clothing it was clear Clark had already been working the two new recruits out in the gym there in the building. This made Jack smile; he knew Clark would be tough on the two newcomers to the operational team, but he also knew the two newcomers would have no problems making it.
There was a brief delay as Clark stopped to take an early-morning phone call. Jack listened at first to see if it was related to the intelligence compromise, but apparently he was talking to an old friend to help with a role-playing exercise for the two new trainees. He tuned out of Clark’s call, and while everyone was standing around the lighted parking garage stretching for this morning’s run, Jack walked over to Midas, who was a few feet away from the others.
“Hey, man, how’s the training going?”
Midas seemed surprised to be spoken to by Jack, which made Jack feel like shit. He’d been in a bad mood all week, and he’d been so damn focused on this intelligence leak that he’d been distant to pretty much everyone in the building except for Gavin.
Midas said, “I’ve learned one thing so far.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I want to be Mr. C. when I grow up. That guy is a machine. My old man’s heart blew up at fifty-five while he was watching a game show. Mr. C. looks like he’s got another sixty years in him.”
Jack smiled. “Sorry about your dad, but I bet he wasn’t in Delta.”
“Sold carpet during the day and drank cheap scotch all night. He was surprisingly good at doing both.”
Jack glanced to Clark. “Yeah, Clark keeps us younger guys on our toes, for sure.” Now he turned back to Midas. “Look. I’m not usually such an asshole. It’s been a really hard week, and—”