Infidels (24 page)

“Speak.”

Dawson
had to keep what he said non-specific and fast, the line not secure. “Sir, it’s
me.”

“Status?”

“We need
a favor.”

“Name
it.”

“We’re
at the location as previously discussed but there’s no way in.”

There
was a pause, the Colonel’s chair creaking. “So you need them to come out.”

“Exactly.”

“With
the current situation, there’s no way they’re evacuating that building without
some sort of confirmation.”

“Oh,
I’ve got a way to convince them that any threat is real. I just need the threat
delivered without them knowing it came from our side.”

“Leave
it to me. How much time do you need?”

“We’ll
be delivering our confirmation within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,
good hunting.”

Dawson
ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket, scurrying back from the
edge of the roof. Unzipping a large duffel bag, delivered to their hotel room
as promised, he removed a miniature drone.

Niner
grinned as Dawson pulled out a brick of C4. “Oh, Sarge, you da man.”

“Don’t
get all doughy eyed on me now.” Dawson tossed the C4 to Niner then a bag of
remote detonators. “Small charges. We’re not looking to do damage, just scare
the shit out of some people.”

Within
minutes Dawson had the first drone ready with a package he doubted would ever
be delivered by Amazon Prime Air. Approaching the roof edge, careful to keep
out of sight from the police below, he launched the drone, expertly guiding it across
the street to the roof of the building housing the embassy, releasing his
package when the camera on his tablet showed him over the roof and there no
risk the charge might actually fall to the cordoned-off street below.

“One
away,” he said, guiding the drone back for another pickup.

“Five
more charges are ready,” said Niner as he crawled up beside Dawson, launching
their second drone. Dawson set his down beside them, loading another charge.

“Two
away,” said Niner as Dawson launched his drone. “Do you think six is enough?”

“More
than enough.”

“But I
really want these bastards shitting their pants, enema style.”

Dawson
grimaced at the image as he tapped the control, releasing his charge. “Third
away.”

Niner’s
drone launched just as someone shouted from below. Dawson hit the control to
put his drone on hover and peered over the side.

He
cursed.

Several
people were pointing at the two drones, cameras suddenly redirected to try and
catch a glimpse of the unusual sight. “We’ve been spotted.”

“What
should I do?” asked Niner, his drone already heading for the roof.

“Drop
your package then keep going south. Put it in the river.” He pushed on the
joystick, resuming control of his own drone and sending it south, back over the
embassy and toward the Seine.

“Four
away.”

“That
should be enough,” said Dawson, watching the city whip by on the display as he
directed the tiny vehicle to its watery grave.

“It’ll
at least scare the piss out of them.”

“And
make the news.”

Dawson’s
phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out, reading the text.

Done.

He
returned the phone to his pocket, taking a surreptitious peak over the edge,
careful not to be spotted by the reporters or police below. “The Colonel has
done his part. Now let’s see what happens.”

Captain Phillip Sikes waited impatiently, his phone pressed hard
against his ear, the Saudi’s seeming to take pride in not answering his calls
for at least six rings.

Don’t
they know we’re trying to help them?

“Embassy
of Saudi Arabia, how may I help you?”

“This is
Captain Sikes again.”

“Captain,
what is it this time?”

“We have
just received a credible threat that there is a bomb on the premises. We must
evacuate your personnel immediately.”

“Commander,
we have no intention of evacuating. We are perfectly safe here.”

“Sir,
the threat is credible. I must insist—”

“And I
must insist that you stop calling. We are secure, and that is the end of it.”

Sikes
turned toward the sound of airbrakes behind him, the first of several buses
dispatched for the evacuation just arriving. “Sir, we have buses out here ready
to evacuate you to a secure facility. We need to get your people to safety,
now.”

“Just
where would you take us that is safer than where we are? It is not
us
that is under attack, Captain. It is you. Look about you, Captain, and what do
you see? Police and reporters and no one else. No one here wants to harm us.
You are wasting your resources and
my
time. Please do not call again.”

The call
ended, Sikes’ phone beeping in his ear.

Merde.

The bus
pulled to a stop in front of the embassy, a second rounding the corner when
something tore at the air overhead, the night sky lit up for a moment as an
explosion erupted on the roof, small pieces of debris raining down on them.

“Everybody
back!” he shouted, urging his men away from the façade of the building and
toward the other side of the street just as a second explosion shook the area.

As he
reached the opposite sidewalk he turned to see the front doors of the embassy
burst open, panicked staff surging through the narrow doors in an every man for
himself rush toward the buses.

A third
explosion urged them forward.

“Get
them on the buses!” he shouted, racing back across the street, his men
following, the reporters cowering behind parked cars, their cameramen bravely
on their feet, taking in the panic.

He felt
a slight rage build in his chest as he spotted the man he had just been
speaking to race down the steps, pushing others out of his way.

Who’s
under attack now, asshole?

Maggie sat alone, as she had been for hours, the hood or veil or
whatever the hell they wanted to call it sitting on the table in front of her,
she having ripped it off again hours ago in a fit of rage.

Her
captors hadn’t been pleased, but had done nothing to force her to wear it
again.

She had
been allowed one bathroom break and food and water had been brought to her
twice.

And that
was it.

No
questions, no intimidation.

Nothing.

She was
going stir crazy.

She
pushed the plate sitting in front of her another few inches across the table,
some left over food slowly turning color, similar to how guacamole might. She
had no idea what she had eaten, but had to admit it had been tasty.

If I
didn’t hate Saudi Arabia so much right now, I might try their food again.

She was
always one to try new things, to experiment with different flavors and the
foods of different cultures. It would never occur to her to hit the golden
arches in a foreign country—she could eat American any time.

Here she
wanted to eat French, to eat like the locals. She so rarely got away on a
vacation that most of her experimentation came when she’d discover some small,
out of the way local ethnic restaurant not influenced by their surroundings,
steak and pasta not on the menu.

The fact
that BD had wanted her here, to spend so much one-on-one time with her had
meant the world to her. She loved this man, unlike any man she had ever loved
before. She knew he had feelings for her, but it would take him time, he not
exactly known for expressing himself.

But she
could tell by the way he doted on her, always kept a hand on her when they were
together, whether it was simply holding her hand, resting his on her leg or
shoulder—whatever it was, it was there, constant, and she loved it.

It was
his way of telling her how he felt.

She
sighed then kicked the table leg in frustration.

This was
supposed to be the trip that sealed the deal, that let them both know it was
meant to be.

Instead
she was stuck here in a room only God knew where, with BD out there, somewhere,
not even knowing if she was alive.

He
must be so worried.

But
there was more. She could hear the tension on the other side of the door. There
had been too much shouting and pounding of feet the entire time she had been
here for this to be a normal office day.

And it
was the middle of the night. Shouldn’t everyone have gone home by now?

No,
something big was going on involving these people. She had seen the Saudi flag
in the hallway before she was hauled in here, and had spotted it again when she
went to the bathroom.

But
what would the Saudi’s want with Professor Palmer?

The
entire room shook and she yelped, grabbing onto the table with both hands as
plaster dust slowly settled. She looked up at the ceiling as screams and shouts
from the other side of the door erupted, more heavy pounding of feet, the
urgency outside ratcheted up several more notches.

Another
explosion rocked the room.

And she
smiled.

It
has to be BD!

The door
flew open just as a third explosion rumbled through the building, two men
rushing in and grabbing her, one shoving the hood back over her head.

Yet she
didn’t care.

He
knows I’m here!

And
there was one thing she knew.

Her
boyfriend was the best at what he did.

And
these men were dead.

They
just didn’t know it yet.

“I think that’s enough,” said Dawson as he watched the staff
evacuate through the main entrance, dust from pulverized concrete obscuring the
roof across the street, shattered concrete sprayed across the road below.
“We’ll keep the last one in reserve, just in case they change their minds.”

Niner
nodded, a slight look of disappointment on his face. “Well, we’ll have to set
it off before we leave. Can’t have any kids finding it.”

Dawson
smiled slightly. “Umm, the kids that will be playing on the roof before the
bomb squad gets here?”

“Exactly!”

A car
rushed out of the parking garage below them. “We’ve got activity. Get ready.”

Dawson
had little doubt they wouldn’t risk taking Maggie out the front entrance, and
now that there had been an actual bombing at the embassy, the entire facility
would be swept by French security, though the Saudi’s could deny access if they
wanted to.

Which
would look pretty suspicious.

No, he
was almost certain they would take her out the exact same way Langley suspected
she had been brought in, and the fact vehicles were now pulling out of a
parking garage in the middle of the night minutes after an explosion seemed to
suggest he was right.

He
peered through the infrared, only a driver and passenger in the front seat
visible, their heat signatures suggesting they were both men. Two more cars
followed, none with what looked like women, before a van emerged, two heat
signatures in the front with three in the back, one lying on the floor.

Maggie!

“Tag the
van on my mark.” He readied the trigger for the final explosive. “Three.. two…
one… Mark!” He squeezed the trigger as Niner leaned forward and fired, a
magnetic GPS tracking device attaching itself on the roof just as debris rained
down from the final explosion. “Status?” asked Dawson, his heart beating a
little harder than usual. If the device had failed to attach, or malfunctioned,
they may never find Maggie again.

Niner
checked the tracking display and nodded. “We’re good.”

“Then
let’s get the hell out of here.”

The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina

Colonel Thomas Clancy listened to the update provided by his
counterpart, Colonel Faisal bin Nayef. The situation in Saudi Arabia had
deteriorated even more in the past several hours, though Mecca sounded like it
was now secure along with government and House of Saud facilities in Riyadh.

They
might just last this one out.

Yet even
if they did there was going to be one hell of a shake up afterward with over
half their military detachments refusing to obey orders, several even openly
fighting government forces.

And it
would take a blood bath to take back the smaller cities and towns where the
populace had essentially thrown anyone connected with the government out into
the desert to fend for themselves.

And he
had no sympathy.

Treat
your population like serfs or worse while you live high on the hog, what do you
expect?

“And
there’s nothing under government control between Mecca and the Red Sea coast to
Yemen?”

“No,
Colonel, nothing.”

Clancy
cursed, snapping his pencil in half, he having given up on the cigars, the
temptation too great to finally light one up after keeping his promise to his
wife for so long.

Cheryl,
if only you knew what you’ve done to me!

“But I
may have an alternative to them getting here.”

Clancy’s
eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“I have
a commando unit here with helicopters. We can pick up your men and bring them
here, with the Black Stone. I can guarantee their safety once inside the city,
and with the Black Stone returned to the Kaaba, the situation should quickly
ease. Once it does, we can arrange for your men to be returned to you, through
backchannels if necessary.”

Clancy
pursed his lips as he leaned forward, elbows on his desk, one hand squeezing
his temples. “Can you trust these men?”

“Absolutely,
they are loyal, I guarantee.”

Your
guarantees have been worth shit so far, Colonel.

But he
didn’t see that he had much choice. All he knew at this point was that his men
had received a burst transmission, he assumed from Kane, with a set of
coordinates and a time. That was all their computers told them. And that pickup
was over half a day away, through miles of lawless territory, with the risk of
discovery at any moment.