“A vetting team? Did the previous buyer back out?”
Bashir shook his head. “No, this is personal.”
“Sir, I’m not sure we have the manpower right now to accommodate the security detail you’ve placed on the product.”
“That’s your job.”
“I know, sir, but your hiring process requires intense scrutiny, something which can’t be done in a matter of days, much less mere hours. Is there any way you can push the meeting back?”
“It must happen in two days or else I will lose my opportunity to purchase an object of significant value to me—and to the rest of the world.”
“So, this isn’t a business deal?”
“It’s personal. Dr. Ngozi wants to sell me another artifact.”
“I’d be suspicious of any such motivations, especially right now as you’re about to close out a major transaction.”
“You’re on dangerous ground right now,” Bashir said, wrapping his hand around the grip of his pistol. “Are you questioning me?”
Sattar shook his head. “No, sir. Just trying to be helpful.”
“Why don’t you be more helpful by doing what I asked you to do? Think you can do that?”
Sattar nodded. “Set up the meeting with Dr. Ngozi. He’s been here before, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. I will handle it.”
“Good. That’s why I hired you. Now go make it so.”
Bashir waved his hand, dismissing Sattar. The weapons dealer opened a website that detailed the history of the Severus Scroll. The longer he stared at the ancient manuscript, the more he wanted it. He sat back down and composed an email to Dr. Ngozi, informing the Egyptian archaeologist that there was significant interest—and that price was no object.
Bashir stood and wandered toward his room full of valuable items he’d collected over the years. It rivaled any modern museum for both its state of the art preservation system and display cases. Bashir walked across the room to an empty spot.
This is perfect.
Bashir inspected all the cases once more, excited about the prospect of adding a manuscript that had been lost for hundreds of years. He hustled back to his computer and checked his email again. A reply from Dr. Ngozi was already awaiting, asking to meet in a day and a half.
Depressing the intercom button, Bashir called for Sattar.
“What is it, sir?” Sattar asked.
“The meeting is on. Two days from today at 10:00 a.m. Have you found any extra guards to vet Dr. Ngozi yet?”
“I’ll do it myself,” Sattar said.
“I knew I could count on you. That is all.”
Bashir watched Sattar hustle out of the room before sitting down and reading up some more on the Severus Scroll. He couldn’t wait to see it for himself and hold it in his hands.
Fewer things in life gave Bashir more joy than acquiring any ancient object unearthed and rarely seen. And the thought of getting the Severus Scroll was no different.
CHAPTER 15
Jabad Salwa, Saudi Arabia
HAWK TUGGED ON THE MASK that gave him the appearance of Dr. Ngozi. The technology that produced such a striking image of the archaeologist was frightening. In a world fraught with fraud and deception, the last thing he wanted as an assassin was to actually verify a target’s identity through a fingerprint scan or a blood sample. He preferred to make that step his final one after the person was dead.
He was thankful he didn’t have to worry about it in this instance. Technology was on his side, even the voice imprint device hidden inside the mask to make him sound like Dr. Ngozi. Hawk had spent a day grilling Ngozi about everything he might encounter at Bashir’s hideout as well as the vetting process.
Despite Hawk’s fear, Ngozi insisted that it likely wouldn’t be as stringent as the first time he was ushered up to Bashir’s place. Each subsequent visit meant less scrutiny and an easier time. However, Ngozi warned Hawk that he would be blindfolded.
Hawk sat in the booth at the cozy mud brick bakery in the village of Rejal Al-Maa, awaiting the four-man vetting team Ngozi had said would be the first to greet him. Hawk nursed a cup of tea and admired the beautiful mountainside scenery extending all around him. It was a side of Saudi Arabia he’d never experienced before, a far cry from the barren deserts dotted with oil derricks that had formed his perception of the country’s topography. This area, however, was strikingly different.
Hawk felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find a man standing there. The man settled down into the seat across from Hawk. The forward nature of the man caught Hawk off guard, especially since he’d been expecting four men.
“Is this seat taken?” the man asked.
Not that it matters.
Hawk then stated the first line of the riddle that was to confirm that they were dealing with the right person.
“Leave me, and you will never find the treasure,” Hawk said.
“Use me, and you will attain Allah's pleasure,” the man said, offering his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Ngozi.”
“And you as well,” Hawk said.
“Come with me,” the man said, gesturing toward the door.
Hawk exited the bakery and was directed by the man toward an SUV with only one other passenger inside. The absence of the other two men made Hawk uneasy. Ngozi had stressed it was four men. But Hawk continued on in good faith, though it didn’t stop him from asking questions.
“Where are your other two men?” Hawk asked.
“Budget cuts, Dr. Ngozi,” the man answered. “I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“Budget cuts?” Hawk asked, attempting to open the backseat door. “Am I about to waste my time? This manuscript is worth more than twenty million dollars on the black market, even more if I go through proper channels. I don’t want to be needlessly exposing it to the elements if this isn’t a serious inquiry by your employer.”
“He’s serious,” the man said, pushing Hawk’s door shut. “More serious than he should be—and definitely more serious than he should be with the lack of money he possesses right now.”
Hawk scowled at the shut door but then returned his gaze to the man. “It’s hard times for everyone right now.”
“You better hope that he doesn’t decide to ask for a discount and you refuse him,” the man said, wagging his finger at Hawk. “It might be a very short visit, trumped only by your short trip back down the mountain.”
Hawk wondered if the man meant for his comment to be taken literally or figuratively. Either way, Hawk wasn’t interested in finding out.
Hawk tugged on the door handle again, but the man put his hand on it again.
“Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten our procedures?”
Noticing the wand in the man’s hand, Hawk stepped back and raised his arms.
“Our standard practice, remember?” the man said, sighing loudly as he checked Hawk for any devices. Then the guard proceeded to pat down Hawk.
The man called for the driver to join him. The driver climbed out of the SUV and lumbered over toward Hawk.
“He’s clean,” the man said. “Prepare him for the ride.”
Hawk wasn’t surprised by the move. Ngozi had told Hawk that he’d be blindfolded once he’d been vetted but not to worry.
With his hands jammed into his pockets holding the small tracking device, Hawk prepared to turn it back on so Alex could follow him to Bashir’s hideout. Just as he was about to flick the switch, the driver yanked on both of Hawk’s arms, preventing him from turning on the mechanism.
“No hands in pockets,” the driver said. “That’s a rule.”
Had his blindfold been off, the panic in Hawk’s eyes would’ve been visible to the man. And it wouldn’t have ended well.
I’ll just have to turn on this tracker for Alex.
Hawk paused and prepared to step inside the vehicle when he felt a strong arm pulling him back outside.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the driver said.
<
br /> Confused, Hawk stumbled back toward the driver before he delivered a vicious head butt to Hawk, knocking him out.
CHAPTER 16
IN ORDER TO AVOID DETECTION, Alex parked a half-mile away behind an abandoned gas station. She crouched down and peered around the corner, watching the bakery through a pair of binoculars. As she waited, it seemed like an eternity before anyone showed up and entered the small store. If the man who entered the building was indeed one of Bashir’s men, he was fifteen minutes late. And she found that troubling, if Ngozi was to be believed. He’d said that Bashir’s men were always on time.
After a couple minutes, the man re-emerged with Hawk in tow. Alex was surprised at the casualness with which the man wanded Hawk and then patted him down in search of any type of transmitter device. Apparently satisfied that Hawk didn’t have anything on him, the man walked around to the other side of the car. However, the driver had gotten out and prevented Hawk from getting inside.
“Oh, no,” she muttered to herself. “He’s been compromised.”
She contemplated running back to the car and getting her rifle to take a shot at the two men. She wasn’t sure if Hawk could be saved, but she wanted to try. As she turned to go, she looked back over her shoulder at the action and realized there wouldn’t be time to help. She’d be better off following them.
But she froze when the driver slammed Hawk with a head butt, sending her partner crumbling to the ground.
“Get up, Hawk,” she said. “Get up.”
The driver dragged Hawk to his feet and threw him inside their SUV. Once he climbed behind the steering wheel, he fired up the car and wasted no time in stomping on the gas. Alex struggled to see what was happening in the vehicle thanks to the dust that had been thrust into the air from the spinning tires.
Damn it, Hawk. What have you gotten yourself into this time?
Alex rushed to her car and started to follow the SUV. She picked up her secure sat phone and called Blunt.
“How are things going?” Blunt asked.
“They’d be better if Hawk could’ve activated his tracker before they knocked him out.”
“Are you telling me that you’re following him now in your car?”
“I had no choice. The original plan was for me to go after him at night when nobody would see me driving, but I’m following them now. However, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get to the exact location of Bashir’s hideout. I’m in a bit of a tough spot.”
“Stop following them right now, Alex. You’re putting yourself in too much danger. If anyone spots you, you’re going to jail . . . and you’ll both wind up dead. Not to mention that this is our best chance to capture both Bashir and Fazil.”
Alex slowed down and pulled off onto the next dirt road she saw.
“I hope you’ve got a good alternative plan then because I just left Hawk up there to die . . . wherever there is.”
“You didn’t form a contingency plan? You should’ve known that this was going to be a risky proposition.”
Alex blew out a long breath. “I don’t need a lecture right now. I need a solution.”
“Okay, for the time being, don’t let anyone see you behind the wheel of that car. Let me call you right back.”
Alex leaned back in her seat before hitting the dashboard with her fist several times. Blunt’s words echoed in her head. You didn’t form a contingency plan? He was right. It had been a foolish oversight to assume that it would’ve been as easy as planting a tracker on Hawk and having him turn it on so she could find him. Working in conjunction with General Fortner, Blunt concocted a solid plan for after they had infiltrated the compound. But their hastily thrown together plan according to Ngozi’s recollection had already proven to be a failure. She could only hope Blunt would deliver a Plan B that was a winner. And she didn’t need to be reminded of the stakes if it didn’t succeed.
She tried to take her mind off the gravity of the situation and admire the surrounding beauty of Saudi Arabia’s southern region. She found it awe-inspiring and might even enjoy the few minutes she had there if it weren’t for Hawk’s life hanging in the balance.
Her phone rang, and she scrambled to answer it.
“What did you find?” she asked.
“I think I’ve got a solid Plan B for you,” Blunt said. “But it’s not going to be easy.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that because it’s going to take about everything you’ve got to pull this off.”
“Tell me what I need to do.”
Blunt gave her instructions, which she heeded with precision and efficiency. She quickly drove the car back to the desolate two-lane road that snaked through a narrow valley. After parking in the road and edging the nose into the other lane, she took out her rifle and used the butt to bash in the front fender.
She tied a scarf over her head and waited. In less than five minutes, she saw a large tanker rumbling down the road just as Blunt had predicted. He’d identified a pattern of tankers that went up a mountain road and disappeared. Given the fact that he was pressed for time to concoct an alternative plan, he took a guess that the tankers were headed for Bashir’s fortress.
Doing her best to conjure up tears, she waved at the tanker, which slowed to a halt a few feet behind her vehicle. The driver rolled down the window.
“Please help me,” she said, speaking in Arabic. “We were hit by another vehicle that continued on, and my husband was badly injured. He was so delirious that he started walking out across the valley, telling me to remain here with our car. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t disobey his command. Can you help me?”
The driver climbed out along with the man who’d been sitting in the passenger’s seat.
“We can help push your car off to the side, but we are on a schedule and don’t have much time,” the man said.
Alex nodded tearfully. “I’m grateful for any help.”
One of the men climbed into the driver’s side to steer while the other man pushed. In a matter of seconds, they pushed the vehicle off the road.
“Thank you,” Alex said wiping her tears as she watched the two men hustle away.
She walked nonchalantly to her car and retrieved her bag from the backseat. The driver of the tanker fired up the engine and started to chug forward. Alex waved again, and the man in the passenger side nodded at her.
Once the tanker cleared her, she slipped behind it before breaking into a sprint. Before the truck could gain too much speed, she jumped onto the ladder on the back and climbed up.
She wrapped one arm around the ladder to secure herself and then rummaged through her bag for a pair of gloves. Once she put them on, she took a deep breath and visualized what Blunt had told her to do. After a couple minutes, the truck slowed down and came to a stop—and she seized her opportunity.
Alex hustled up underneath the truck and braced herself using the chassis rails. It was a painful experience for her as the tanker climbed up a rocky unpaved road for about ten minutes. Her arm and leg muscles burned as she clung on after coming to a stop. But she knew the consequences of letting go and potentially getting caught would be fatal. She gritted her teeth as she listened to the driver speak with another man, presumably a guard, about where to park.
She waited until the truck stopped and the engine was turned off before considering to move. Once the footsteps of the two men driving the tanker grew faint, she eased down. Crouching beneath the truck, she surveyed her surroundings before venturing out.
The room appeared more like a showroom than a garage for Bashir’s transport vehicles. Six tankers were lined up, taking up only about a quarter of the room. With a ceiling that extended more than twenty meters in the air and was comprised of rock, the place felt just as it looked—cavernous. On another side of the room, missiles were stacked next to smaller wooden crates. Alex couldn’t read the writing on the outside from her position, but she didn’t have to guess what was inside boxes stored in a
facility owned by a known weapons dealer.
Alex needed a place to pull out her computer and work. With Hawk being rendered unconscious, the first thing she needed to do was find out if he was still alive by reaching him on his com, a prototype developed by Dakarai that housed both a speaker and a microphone in a pair of glasses. Once she determined Hawk’s status, she could figure out if their plan was still viable or if she’d need to concoct another scheme to achieve a successful end.
She glanced around and saw a nook in a nearby portion of the room, hidden by stacks of wooden pallets. With spider webs and dust gathering around them, she presumed it would be a safe place to hide until she could get a better idea of the facility’s layout. Checking to see if any of the guards were nearby, she cautiously scanned the area and determined it was clear.
Alex stayed low to the ground as she hustled across the floor. She squeezed through a small opening between two piles of haphazardly stacked pallets. Behind them was a small clearing of about three square feet, just enough space for Alex to pull out her computer and get to work.
Less than two minutes later, she froze as footfalls from one of Bashir’s employees drew near. But that wasn’t nearly as frightening to Alex as the next sound she heard. The click of a key followed by the ignition of a nearby forklift.
From across the room, she heard another man yell, “What are you doing over there?”
“I am fixing this pile,” the man driving the forklift said. “It’s a mess. Plus, we need to pull out some pallets for a big shipment we have coming in next week.”
The engine hummed as the lift drove straight toward Alex’s hiding spot. The forks slid beneath the bottom pallet, almost touching her. She slowly backed toward the wall and contemplated an exit strategy.
But before she could determine anything, the pile began to move.
CHAPTER 17
Washington, D.C.
HARRY BOZEMAN’S MEETING with President Michaels earlier in the week had been intense but necessary. With approval to move forward with a backup plan should their original falter, Bozeman felt much better about his immediate future. To Bozeman, operating without a failsafe was akin to letting all his money ride on one single spin of a roulette wheel, a decision he’d never make. Yet he was acting in the same manner, only this time it was his life that he’d been letting ride until he convinced Michaels it was foolish.
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