Infidels (19 page)

Chris Leroux actually felt a little better than he had yesterday,
which meant there was no way he was staying home. He had worn a mask, certain
to not touch anything on his way in, and isolated himself in his office to try
and minimize the risk of infecting his staff or anyone else.

He knew
he should have stayed at home, but he had to be here. The world was turning
into a violent hellhole and he had a part to play, even if it meant saving just
a single soul.

Maggie Harris.

He had
gone home early to try and get his rest while his team ran through all the
camera footage they could find in an attempt to track the van that had been
used in her kidnapping. And he had come in as soon as he had received the call telling
him they had successfully tracked the van.

His
phone beeped with the secure call to the embassy in Paris, an embassy under
siege, the footage he had seen while scarfing down his instant oatmeal disturbing.
Paris was ablaze, as were significant segments of London, Amsterdam, Brussels,
Copenhagen and dozens of other Western cities.

But his
immediate concern was the embassy where Dawson and the professors were
apparently secure for the moment.

“This is
Mr. White.”

Leroux
brought up the footage showing the van entering a parking garage. “Mr. White, this
is Leroux. We’ve managed to track the van used to abduct Miss Harris.”

“Where
did it go?”

“It was
last seen entering a private underground parking garage on Avenue Hoche.”

“Anything
beyond that? Any footage of her being taken out of the garage?”

“No, but
here’s the interesting thing. Directly across the street from this garage is
the Saudi Embassy.”

“Really.”
The word was spoken as if from a clenched jaw, Leroux immediately recognizing
the tone as if tightly controlled anger were about to be unleashed.

“Yes,
sir. I have my team analyzing all the footage from the area from the time of
their arrival onward, but have found nothing yet to indicate she has left. That
being said, other vehicles have left the parking garage since, so it is
possible she was in one of them. However, nothing left that garage for over an
hour, so it’s likely this was not a vehicle exchange point.”

“And
where could they have taken her from there without going outside?”

Leroux
brought up several diagrams on his screens. “There are several entrances to
attached buildings, but there are indications of a tunnel that leads under the
street to the row of buildings across from the garage. The Saudi Embassy is in
those buildings.”

There was
a pause for a moment, and Leroux felt the need to fill it. He was about to
speak when a reply finally came.

“Is
there anything else in the area of significance that might suggest the Saudi
Embassy wasn’t the destination?”

“No, of
all the buildings accessible, this is the only one that makes sense.”

He could
hear a long slow breath being drawn in and held before an equally long exhale.
“Sir, do you have a girlfriend?”

Leroux
felt a sudden flush of pride as he thought of Sherrie, and how it was always
such a rush to actually admit he had someone that he shared his life with.
“Yes.”

“And you
love her?”

Leroux
hesitated, not sure if he had ever actually been asked that question before.
“Yes.”

“And I
love Maggie. I’ve never told anyone that before, but it’s true. And there’s
nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her, as I’m sure there’s nothing you wouldn’t
do to protect your girlfriend.”

Leroux’s
head bobbed as he thought of how he felt when Sherrie had been kidnapped
several months ago during the terrorism crisis that had gripped the nation. He
had been desperate to do any and all things, and if he had the skillset that
this man had, he’d have probably gone in and killed everything in sight to
rescue her.

Instead
he had used his assets—his brains—to find her and get the intel into the proper
hands.

Into the
hands of the man on the other end of this line.

“I’d do
anything I could. You know that.”

“Yes, I
do. If there’s anyone in this world who understands what I’m going through
right now, it’s you.”

“What do
you need from me?”

“Nothing
for the moment. But if this all falls apart, and we die here today, I want you
to promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Get
this information to Kane. He’ll know what to do with it.”

“You
have my word.”

Red Sea Coast, Saudi Arabia

“I spy with my little eye, something that is blue.”

Atlas
looked at Jimmy, who motioned with his chin to look ahead. Atlas took a glance,
not seeing what Jimmy was talking about at first as their truck climbed a
slight upward grade before cresting. Atlas smiled.

“Blue
indeed,” his deep voice rumbled. Before them lay the Red Sea in all its glory.
They had crossed into Saudi territory hours ago having set out at first light,
Red wanting to try and reach the coast as quickly as possible in case Dawson
succeeded in arranging transport. The night had been uneventful but restful,
his years of serving in hellholes meaning he could sleep just about anywhere,
and the desert was quiet at night.

And
chilly.

But that
always made him sleep better he found, he himself a human furnace. It was one
thing he had never found a way to handle until he watched a rerun of Friends.
Many of the women he went out with loved to cuddle at night, and he found he’d
be dripping in sweat as they slept peacefully, but Ross’ hug ’n roll technique
worked like a charm.

Fortunately
Vanessa wasn’t a cuddler, at least not in her sleep. She preferred to be on her
side of the bed unless a little somethin’ somethin’ was going on, which was yet
another reason he really liked this girl.

This
woman.

It wasn’t
until they had really started to settle into their relationship, after the
initial infatuations matured, that he realized he had always been dating girls.
Vanessa was a woman. She knew what she wanted from life and from him, and he
thought that was fantastic. She was the first girl he could see himself
settling down with, but before they could he’d have to get permission from the
Colonel to read her in on what he did.

But they
weren’t there yet.

He just
prayed she would understand why he had needed to lie to her all these months.

Some
didn’t, some taking it as a betrayal. He hadn’t faced that yet, but he knew
several guys in Special Ops, too many, that thought they were heading down the
aisle to the altar when the revelation that they had been lying to their future
spouse since they met them caused things to fall apart. Sometimes it was the
lie that sent them running, sometimes the fear.

It isn’t
easy to marry a man whose country demanded he be at its beck and call
twenty-four-seven, to be sent at a moment’s notice to the most violent
shitholes in the world, all for a salary that would make the average civvie
indignant if offered to them.

We’re
not in it for the money.

Red’s
vehicle came to a halt in a dip, the vehicles shielded from view, the Master Sergeant
stepping out and climbing the rise at a crawl, scanning the area with his
binoculars. They were less than a mile from the coast, Highway 5, which ran the
entire coast, now behind them and quiet at the time of their crossing.

According
to the GPS, that road and shipping traffic should be about the only things to
expect in this area except for possible patrols or nomads.

Red
scurried back down the rise, signaling for the engines to be cut. Atlas stepped
out as Jimmy turned off the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition in case a
quick getaway was needed.

“This is
as good a place as any. I don’t want to be sitting on the beach in case
somebody comes along.”

“Speak
for yourself,” replied Atlas. “Lying on a beach sounds nice to me.”

“Getting
in a good swim does too,” agreed Jimmy.

“You can
work on your breaststroke later,” said Red as the team gathered around.
“Standard recon. Make sure we’re alone, double-check our equipment and
supplies. Two teams, one hour on, one hour off, try to find some shade during
your downtime. It’s going to get pretty damned hot here pretty damned quick.
Keep yourselves hydrated, watch for signs of heat exhaustion. Buddy system, got
it?”

“Yes,
Sergeant!”

The team
started to break for the recon when Red flagged Atlas down. “Sergeant, you’re
with me.”

“What’s
up?”

“I was
thinking—”

“Dangerous
thing to do nowadays.”

Red
chuckled. “True enough, but if I rely on you guys to do the thinking, we’ll
spend forty damned years roaming this desert.”

“But
it’s the Promised Land at the end of it.”

“I’ll
take The Unit any day.”

“Amen to
that.”

Red
nodded toward the truck Atlas had been travelling in. “Have you had any luck
with that satellite equipment yet?”

“Negative.”

“I was
afraid of that, so I checked my phone.” Red waved it in his fingers. “No coverage,
and there should be along the highway.”

Atlas
frowned, pulling out his own phone and confirming it. “What do you think’s
going on?”

“I don’t
know, but I’m guessing the network has been shut down. We need intel, and we
need it bad. Try to get that equipment working, Sergeant, it may be our only
hope.”

“Roger
that.” Atlas turned to leave when he stopped, looking at Red. “Any thoughts on
what might be happening?”

Red
shook his head. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good. They don’t just abandon
troops in the middle of hostile territory for no reason.”

“It’s
definitely because of that relic we found.”

Red
grunted. “No shit. The question isn’t what this is about, it’s what’s going on
outside this desert that’s got our own government so scared BD has to be calling
in favors.”

“Do you
think they’re going ape shit over this?”

Red
shrugged. “Look what happened over the cartoons. Something tells me they’re not
going to be holding a hug-in if that footage hit the airwaves of us with their
stone.”

Atlas
frowned, eyeing the backseat of the truck. “Give me some time, I’ll try to get
answers.”

“Let’s
hope we find out the world we left still exists.”

“Amen to
that.”

But
Atlas had a sinking feeling that the very reason they had been abandoned was
because
the world they knew was gone.

Replaced
with what, he wasn’t sure.

And that
terrified him more than any enemy he had ever faced.

The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina

“What the hell is going on, Colonel?”

It was
clear to Colonel Clancy that his Saudi counterpart was flustered. He was
increasingly difficult to reach, and from all accounts, so was most anybody
inside the Kingdom.

“I’m
sorry to say, I don’t know, Colonel,” replied Colonel Faisal bin Nayef. “It
doesn’t appear that anyone is in control anymore, at least not completely. We
have rioting in the streets and most of our military units outside of the major
cities are no longer responding to Central Command. At the moment all I can
tell you is we
do
have control of Mecca. We’re trying to limit
communications within the Kingdom in an attempt to limit the capabilities of
those disloyal to the Crown, but I fear it is too little too late.”

“My
people tell me you’ve shut down the cellular networks.”

“We
have. It was being used to facilitate moves against our government.”

“I was
counting on using the cellular network to contact my people if I’m going to let
them know where to deliver your stone.”

There
was a pause, then Nayef’s voice lowered. “You didn’t hear this from me, but
tonight at six o’clock local we will be turning the network back on for exactly
thirty minutes for essential communications. If you’re going to get a message
to your men outside of official channels, it may be your last opportunity.”

“Six p.m.
You’re sure?”

“Yes,
but like I said, you didn’t hear it from me. And don’t expect it to be easy to
get through. Millions of cellphones will immediately connect trying to send and
receive their backlog of text messages. Our engineers are trying to coordinate
with the cellular providers to purge the backlog awaiting delivery, but there’s
nothing they can do about what’s about to hit them as soon as these phones find
a network that’s working.”

“So
there still may be no way to get through.”

“I
highly recommend you text your men, Colonel. A text message gets put into the
queue. A voice call just gets shut out if there aren’t enough lines available.”

Clancy
chewed on his cheek for a moment. It was good advice, good advice in any
situation. He was reminded of a plane crash survivor in British Columbia who
couldn’t call for help with his cellphone because there was no service in the
mountains, but a text message sent on his phone did get through, it only taking
a moment of a stray connection for the phone to fire off those lifesaving
characters.

He just
hoped it would work for his men. Depending on the backlog, any message sent
might never make it through.

Yet he
had to try.

“Colonel
Clancy, tell your men to meet me in Mecca, with the stone. I’m still trying to
coordinate something on this end. If I’m successful, I might be able to send a
team to retrieve your men, but it’s doubtful—it would be an admission we knew
all along who had the stone.” He sighed. “Colonel, the best bet is if they can
reach Mecca on their own. If they can, I can guarantee their safety until the
crisis has been averted.”