Hit List

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Hit List Page 7

by Jack McSporran


  Ugaas drove them to the opposite end of the city, avoiding Jidka Warshaddaha, the main street that ran through its heart. While Maggie and Ashton knew Ugaas was undercover, the military and associated militia groups who fought against Al-Shabab didn’t, and they would show no mercy if they believed him to be a part of the terrorist cell. Not to mention the many questions Maggie and Ashton’s presence would cause. They’d already gained enough unwelcomed attention at the airport.

  “Does Tahiil speak English?” Maggie asked, searching the truck for signs of working air-conditioning, only to come up short.

  Ugaas shrugged. “A little. Like me.”

  It would have to be good enough. She was at least confident the presence of the weapons would help Tahiil understand her proposition. If he didn’t see it as a threat and shoot them before Maggie could even say a word, that is.

  Ashton fidgeted next to her, wearing a black T-shirt and combat trousers instead of the slick suit he’d worn during the flight. Any foreigner who found themselves in the city would be insane not to bring protection in the form of a guard, and preferably a whole crew of them. Ekaterina wouldn’t be so dumb or so bold as to not come along with at least one armed man by her side.

  “You know Assad?”

  Maggie frowned before remembering it was Leon’s false name for the mission. She managed a “yes” but nothing more. She needed to remain composed and in control going into this meeting.

  “I hope he kills Yasir.” Ugaas rummaged in his pocket and produced a worn, crumpled photo of a toddler. He was a cute little thing, with a big infectious smile and a whiff of black hair. “My boy,” Ugaas said with pride. “He’s two next month. I wish to be there for the day.”

  “I hope you get to see him soon,” Ashton said, handing the well-loved photo back over.

  Maggie avoided staring at it too long, her recent past threatening to relive itself. Of the doctor’s office. Of falling apart on the floor at the news. Of not being able to tell Leon.

  Ugaas slowed down outside a series of residential buildings that were little more than rubble now, the recent victims of a grenade or bomb. “This is it,” the Somalian announced. “Once Tahiil arrives, I will come for you. Too dangerous before then.”

  Maggie nodded in agreement. Ugaas wasn’t the only person meeting Tahiil. All the local members planted in the city were to be there for some announcement of Yasir’s. The thought of being so close to a group of terrorists made Maggie’s muscles twitch, her reflexes wanting to enter fight mode and take them all down.

  “Take one of the crates,” she said before Ugaas left. “We’ll bring the other when we enter.”

  Their arrival would be more welcomed if Tahiil had time to inspect some of the merchandise before they met face-to-face. Two unknown white people walking in without an invitation would not end well. Even with Ugaas vouching for them.

  “Very well.” Ugaas took the crate and pointed out a hiding spot near a secluded part of the wreckage, close to the group’s usual meeting point. “Good luck,” he said.

  “You, too,” replied Maggie, taking a deep breath. They were all going to need it.

  Their contact left them and went to stand at the meeting place. They’d arrived early to ensure no one saw Maggie and Ashton before they wanted them to, and as the time ticked by, more and more of those loyal to Yasir trickled in. They never arrived in groups, sticking to a maximum of two at a time, a nice tactic to stay under the radar on the journey there.

  “Twelve now,” Ashton whispered, sneaking a glimpse of the new arrivals. “The odds are not in our favor.”

  “We’ve taken out more than twelve before,” Maggie reminded him, and herself. They’d been in worse situations, though standing there, she couldn’t think of any.

  Eventually, the group quieted their chatter and fell into silence. Footsteps echoed through the wasteland and off the crumbling walls.

  An authoritative voice said something in greeting.

  Maggie inched next to Ashton to get a good look. “That’s Tahiil, all right,” she murmured, getting a better visual of him now than the image on the surveillance photo Helmsley had sent over. The cluster of waiting men bowed their heads in respect.

  Tahiil wasn’t alone. Behind him stood three more men, all of them armed with AK-47s and belts of grenades. Sixteen against two now.

  It seemed like forever standing there and waiting to be sent for, even though Ashton’s watch said it was only eight minutes. Tahiil spoke for a few of those minutes before noticing the crate at Ugaas’s feet. They exchanged words, heated on Tahiil’s part, placating on Ugaas’s. After some rushed explanations from Ugaas, Tahiil settled a bit and had his guards examine the box before looking himself.

  They must have been to the man’s liking, for he asked Ugaas a host of questions before their contact said something he didn’t like. Tahiil’s back straightened, and he barked orders to his men. Maggie didn’t understand, but the circular hand gesture that came with it was universal.

  Search the surroundings.

  Ashton tensed beside her and Maggie battled against the urge to reach for her gun.

  Tahiil was shouting at Ugaas now, but their contact continued talking, his voice growing more urgent as he appeared to try to explain himself for bringing Maggie and Ashton with him.

  Fear penetrated Maggie’s thoughts, but she willed them back and got into character. Ekaterina would never falter to something as weak and human as fear. Her cold, calculating nature was far too pragmatic to deal with such a base emotion.

  Instead, Maggie straightened her back, told Ashton to put his hands in the air, and did the same before one of the three guards discovered their hiding spot.

  The barrel of an AK-47 pointed at them soon enough, along with some choice words from the guard. When their lack of understanding grew apparent, the guard nudged over to his boss with his gun, and Maggie and Ashton stepped out and headed toward Tahiil.

  Not before being shaken down and removed of all weapons, of course.

  The first guard kept his gun targeted at them while the other two completed their search and tossed all the weapons found in with those already inside the other crate. The second crate was dumped at Tahiil’s feet, and the guards kicked the backs of Maggie’s and Ashton’s knees to send them kneeling to the floor before their boss.

  Tahiil regarded them with vile distaste. He wasn’t a big man like his brother was supposed to be, gangly almost, with a thin neck Maggie would have liked to wrap her hands around until he stopped breathing. His freshly broken nose was evidence enough that someone else very recently indulged the urge to lay hands on him.

  “English?” he inquired to Ashton, ignoring Maggie.

  “Russian,” Maggie said as Ekaterina with unflinching offense at her guard being thought of as the one in charge. “Though I speak English, too. He is my guard.”

  Tahiil frowned and stared at her for a moment like she was an animal at the zoo. “What is a woman from Russia doing here in Mogadishu?”

  “Business. And believe me when I tell you said business is not done on my knees.” Maggie moved her gaze to the crates.

  “Weapons?”

  “Yes, weapons. Now can I get up? The rubble is digging into my knees and ruining my clothes.” She made sure to keep a noticeable accent while speaking English.

  One of the guards checking the crates said something to Tahiil, and he nodded before turning back to Maggie. “These weapons are the ones the British use over here. Not Russian.”

  “Yes,” Ekaterina agreed. “That’s because they’re stolen.”

  Something in Tahiil’s face changed at that, but Maggie couldn’t decipher what it meant.

  Without being approved to do so, Maggie got up. One of the guards grabbed at her shoulder with forceful fingers to return her to her knees, but Tahiil held up his hands.

  The guard let Maggie go, and Ekaterina dusted off the spot on her suit jacket where the man’s fingers had been. “I’m here to sell. From what I hea
r, you are in the business of buying, yes?”

  “We have more than enough weapons.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Tahiil’s fingers twitched like he wanted to slap her, but Maggie continued talking.

  “You haven’t had any new shipments since losing the ports. Knowing this, I will charge you more, but I think you’ll find my prices are still fair.”

  “We could take them,” Tahiil said.

  Ekaterina didn’t flinch, despite the increasing unease inside Maggie. “By all means, take these samples if you want. They are just a drop in the ocean compared to the artillery I have at a secure location.”

  “I could force you to tell me where.”

  “Assuming I know, that is,” Maggie retorted, thinking back to Osman down in the basement at Belmarsh. “I said they were secure, and that includes the location being secure from my knowledge to avoid such threats. If you want them, you will have to buy them. Or more correctly, your brother will have to buy them.”

  “How can we be certain where your loyalties lie?” Tahiil asked after a long silence.

  Ekaterina gave a tight smile, unused to the feel of it across her lips. “The only thing I’m loyal to is money.”

  Another long silence passed.

  Maggie was about to talk again when Tahiil broke the unnerving quiet and issued orders to his men. The guards moved forward while the men stationed in the city began to disperse back out home.

  “A single man and a mere woman are no threat to my brother. Let’s see what he thinks of your offer.”

  Before Maggie could reply, a guard heaved a bag over Ashton’s head while the other two held his fighting arms.

  Tahiil pointed to Ugaas as well who stopped dead as the others left around him. Once they’d bagged Ashton, the guards forced him into one, too.

  Maggie stood her ground, making sure to display Ekaterina’s displeasure but not showing any signs of resistance. While they may be arriving with covered heads and tied arms, Tahiil was taking them to see Yasir.

  Which meant she was one step closer to Leon. Maggie only hoped she wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 10

  None of them said a word.

  With Tahiil speaking English, the risk of him overhearing a hushed conversation was far too risky.

  Sweat trickled down Maggie’s back as she struggled to breathe in the overbearing heat of the van they’d been shoved into. The rough canvas over her head stifled her air supply and rubbed against her face and neck, irritating her skin. None of it helped the nauseating bubble of anticipation that rose within her.

  They rode for what must have been an hour, each of the captives bumping into each other as they traversed uneven terrain. Ugaas banged into Maggie as the car took a sharp turn in the road and he slumped at her side. His whole body tremored, and she crossed her fingers that the man was capable of remaining calm. Scared people did rash things, and rash people were dangerous. Especially in a situation like this.

  The van slowed as the sound of scraped metal clattered outside. Gates being opened, from the sound of it. Once the clattering stopped, the van carried on at a snail’s pace before stopping. The engine died, and the van shifted as those up front got out.

  “Maggie,” Ashton whispered.

  “Keep to the story as long as possible,” Maggie replied, making the most of the few precious moments alone. “We still need to find Leon.”

  The back doors opened, and strong hands grabbed at her. Maggie, retaining her persona of Ekaterina, swore in Russian and swatted at the culprit as best she could with her bound hands.

  Half dragged, Maggie got out of the van and sighed deeply, welcoming the drop in temperature from the vehicle’s stuffy confines. The heat still clung to the night air, but even the slightest change to her discomfort was much appreciated. Being British, Maggie operated much better in the snow than she did the blistering sun.

  The Al-Shabab members conversed in their own language as Maggie was shoved forward and ushered along with the tip of a rifle at her back. Instead of panicking, she focused on getting her bearings. Underneath her feet, the ground was gritty, like sand. It changed to something more solid twenty or so paces into their walk, and the temperature dropped again. They were somewhere inside now.

  “Where are we?” Ekaterina demanded.

  “I told you,” Tahiil said, now in front of her. “I’m taking you to see my brother, as you wanted.”

  “Take this bag off my head. Now.” Her voice echoed off bare walls and carried down what she guessed to be a hallway.

  Tahiil sighed. “Very well.” He spoke to his men who grunted and went to work at untying her hands and then removing the insufferable sack.

  The black hair of Maggie’s wig stuck to the layer of sweat that covered her face. As the men worked at releasing Ashton and Ugaas, Maggie took the opportunity to take in her surroundings while she pretended to straighten her disheveled self.

  Her suspicions had been correct. They stood in an empty stone hallway with only a rug to decorate the space. A few doors ran along the right-side wall, stopping at a fourth at the bottom. Maggie stole a glimpse out a window to her left and took in what she could of the exterior space inside the compound. Next to the van that brought them sat a row of jeeps, most of them new and expensively modified. While it was a bad sign that Yasir appeared well funded, Maggie preferred the positive outlook. At least they had their pick of getaway cars.

  Assuming they even made it that far.

  “This isn’t the way you treat a potential business partner,” she snapped, rubbing at her wrists.

  “It’s a safety precaution, I’m sure you understand.” Tahiil’s lips split into a sharp-edged grin.

  Maggie folded her arms. Ekaterina had well and truly used all her reserves of patience. “As you said, I’m just a mere woman. What threat could I possibly pose to you?”

  “This way, please. My brother is waiting for you.”

  “Good. I can speak to someone capable of talking terms. I’m through dealing with underlings.”

  Ashton shot Maggie a warning look. She knew she was goading the man, but there was something about Yasir’s younger brother that made her skin crawl.

  His grin turned to a sneer as he knocked on the final door at the end of the hall. A voice called from within, and he ventured inside, switching his dark expression to a more neutral one before passing the threshold.

  One of his men made to push Maggie forward, but she shot him a warning scowl and strode inside with Ashton and Ugaas behind her. Gun or not, she would not show any of these terrorists fear. Not when they fed on it like maggots on a carcass.

  The armed men followed and circled behind them, stoic soldiers in front of their leader, awaiting orders.

  Like Helmsley’s notes had indicated, Yasir was a much larger and more imposing man than his sibling. Though they shared the same dark features and hooked nose, his presence dominated the room whereas his brother slinked to the sidelines unnoticed.

  Yasir sat behind a desk. His broad shoulders, calloused hands, and an array of battle scars across his muscled arms showed he wasn’t one for sitting back and letting others do his dirty work. He was hands-on as he oversaw his terrorist operation, and Maggie was willing to bet he was a formidable threat all by himself.

  The brothers exchanged words, Tahiil seeming to fill in Yasir on the happenings of his interrupted meeting in the city. Like Tahiil, Yasir didn’t appear happy when Ugaas’s name was mentioned, one of the only things Maggie could make out during the exchange.

  Ugaas shifted on his feet and averted his gaze from Yasir. Maggie tried to catch his attention to give him some sign of encouragement that things would be okay, but his eyes were rooted to the floor in subservience.

  “My brother does not speak English,” Tahiil announced. “I will translate for him.”

  Maggie balled her fist. For all she knew, he could be telling his brother anything he bloody well wanted.

  She raised her chin and spok
e directly to Yasir, effectively ignoring Tahiil. “My name is Ekaterina Kovrova, and I am a Russian businesswoman. I have a cache of weapons, stolen from the British envoy here in your country. I’m here to offer you a fair deal for them.”

  Tahiil relayed her words to his brother who listened intently, all the while pinning his attention on Maggie. She didn’t so much as flinch under the man’s scrutiny as she awaited his response.

  His voice was a deep rumble that vibrated over the room. Tahiil nodded and said, “You are far from home. Why come so far to sell guns to me when you could have stayed home and sold weapons there?”

  Maggie nudged Ugaas, not trusting Tahiil for a second. “Is that what he said?”

  Ugaas nodded, so she answered.

  “I go where the weapons are. I managed to acquire a supply here and wish to sell them in Somalia. I don’t need to tell you how hard it is to smuggle anything in and out of here, thanks to the government and the number of pirates waiting for easy pickings.”

  “And why come to me?” Yasir asked through his brother.

  “Simple supply versus demand. You’re in need of weapons in your fight against the West, and I have stock to sell.”

  “Even if you know those weapons would be used against British soldiers?”

  Maggie laughed, which was an odd thing for someone as stern as Ekaterina. It had a strange, maniacal edge to it. “I’m Russian, Mr. Osman. And I think if there is one thing we can agree on, it is that there is no love lost between them and us. Quite frankly, I don’t care how you choose to use the weapons, as long as you purchase them.”

  “Purchase?”

  Maggie crossed her arms and gave Yasir an exasperated look. “Yes, your brother and I have already had this conversation about ‘taking them,’ so perhaps he can fill you in.”

  Yasir huffed a laugh when Tahiil explained Ekaterina’s fail-safe plan of not knowing the location of the weapons. He even appeared impressed. “Smart.”

  “Yes, I thought so. Now, can we move ahead and talk business? I have a flight waiting for me, and I don’t care to miss it.”

 

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