‘I get it,’ Dade assured her. ‘I’ll start checking right away. Or at least I could have if you hadn’t hurled my phone into the Mediterranean.’
‘When did I do that?’ she asked innocently.
Though it had appeared as if she had tossed his phone into the water, she had actually palmed the device and had thrown a burner phone instead. The sleight of hand not only grabbed Dade’s attention, it had given Cobb the opportunity to hack into his phone.
Using a program that Garcia had given to him before they left, Cobb had secretly copied the phone’s contents – contacts, pictures, texts, and so on – without ever touching the device. Before terminating the wireless connection, Cobb had also inserted a next-generation GPS virus into his phone. Even a surveillance expert like Dade would never notice the tracker because it wasn’t an actual bug. It was merely a line of code that would force his phone to send out a continuous signal for Garcia to follow.
‘Here you go,’ she said as she handed the phone to Dade. ‘I know how much you depend on this thing. It would have been cruel to throw it into the sea.’
Dade grinned at the turn of events. ‘You sneaky devil! That’s the Sarah I remember from six years ago. I’m glad she’s still in there, somewhere, under that rough exterior.’
Sarah laughed as she squeezed his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Simon. I’m the same ol’ Sarah from back in the day. Always have been, always will be.’
‘Glad to hear it!’
She leaned in closer and whispered, ‘But here’s the thing. The sweet girl that you remember is the fake Sarah. The real Sarah is the angry one.’
‘If you say so.’
She dug her nails into his skin. ‘Oh, I do say so. And if you fuck me on this, Kamal and Hassan will be the least of your problems. Understood?’
‘Understood,’ he said as he took a step back. ‘Take me back to shore, and I’ll get started right away. I promise.’
Cobb shook his head. ‘Not quite yet. Before we go anywhere, I need you to do me a favor. You’re not going to like it, but you’re going to do it anyway. After all, my life was endangered in the tunnels, too.’
Sarah didn’t know where Cobb was headed, but she knew that Dade didn’t really have a choice. Cobb wasn’t asking; that much was clear.
‘How can I help?’ Dade replied.
‘I need you to personally introduce me to one of your contacts.’
‘Sure. Which one?’
‘Your pal Hassan.’
Dade laughed. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
Cobb stared at him. ‘Do I look like I’m kidding?’
‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck you, Jack! It’s not gonna happen! The guy wants me dead!’
‘And I’m offering you a way to get back on his good side,’ Cobb assured him. ‘Take me to see Hassan, and I promise that you’ll survive the meeting.’
48
Citadel of Qaitbay
Alexandria’s Eastern Harbor
Dade had asked for a day to arrange a meeting with Hassan.
Cobb had given him an hour.
The way Cobb saw it, he held the better cards and wanted to play them right away. He already knew that Hassan wanted Dade, and he imagined that the crime lord would also be interested in information regarding the men who had destroyed his territory.
Cobb could offer both.
Without time to scout for a new location, Cobb chose a place that he knew well, a building that he and Sarah had explored during their initial rekky of the city.
It was a landmark that every local could find.
Even a hardened criminal like Hassan.
The Citadel of Qaitbay was once an imposing fortress guarding the waters of Alexandria’s Eastern Harbor. Seemingly modeled after an English castle, the towering stronghold provided distant views of approaching invaders. Its thick limestone walls – accentuated by red granite savaged from the site’s previous occupant, the famed Lighthouse of Alexandria – were designed to withstand the fiercest attacks. It was a defensive stalwart, having protected the city for more than four and a half centuries.
Even though the citadel is now meant more for tourists than soldiers, it still evokes a sense of awe. McNutt whistled as he walked along the courtyard that led to the building’s front entrance. The wide enclosure was paved with massive slabs of concrete flanked by lush, green grass. Trees encircled the lawn, and square patches of landscaping served as a contrast to the built-in stone benches that lined the main walkways.
‘Didn’t Robin Hood rescue Maid Marian from this thing?’ he asked as he strolled with a backpack filled with ammo around the grounds. ‘I’m pretty sure he did.’
Garcia, who heard the comment on his headphones, was too preoccupied to laugh. He wasn’t particularly fond of working in the field – not because he was scared of confrontation, but because he didn’t like exposing his electronic arsenal to the elements.
McNutt wasn’t sure what to make of his silence. ‘Is this thing on?’
‘Sorry,’ Garcia said. ‘I’m dealing with some serious glare here.’
‘Relax, Hector. It’s called sunlight. I know you don’t see a lot of it in your mom’s basement, but it can’t hurt you.’
‘Actually, it can,’ Garcia replied from one of the stone benches. ‘You need a high SPF to protect you, or you’re just asking for trouble.’
McNutt instinctively patted the assault rifle that he had tucked under his jacket. ‘If I find trouble, I’ve got something a little better than sunscreen to protect me.’
‘I hope you’re not referring to your intelligence.’
‘Of course not. Don’t be stupid.’
At Cobb’s insistence, the two of them had arrived early, using the yacht’s inflatable Zodiac to reach the harbor before the others. Cobb didn’t want anyone, including Dade, to know that McNutt and Garcia were a part of his team, or else they would lose the element of surprise. To increase their chances of success, they tapped into the citadel’s surveillance system, which allowed Garcia to monitor the entire building from his laptop while McNutt surveyed the building on foot.
As always, Cobb’s team would be linked by comms.
‘Approaching the fort,’ Cobb whispered as he walked a few paces ahead of Sarah and Dade toward the citadel’s front courtyard. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Audio confirmed,’ Garcia said as he tapped on his keyboard. ‘And let Sarah know that she’s good to go. I can hear her talking.’
‘Will do.’ Cobb gave her a subtle nod before he turned his attention to McNutt. ‘Josh, how are we looking?’
‘Not too bad,’ McNutt said from up ahead. As point man, he would enter the citadel before the others in case Hassan was setting up a trap. ‘I’ve counted five goons so far, and all of them were obvious. Even Hector spotted them.’
Garcia frowned but didn’t comment.
‘What about Hassan?’ Cobb asked.
‘He’s here – somewhere. He showed up about ten minutes ago and went straight inside. Where are you supposed to meet him?’
‘No idea,’ Cobb admitted. ‘Since we picked the place, he got to choose the room. I was kind of hoping Hector could tell us where he is.’
Garcia chimed in. ‘I had him for a while, but this building is really big and really old. There are blind spots all over the place. Whoever put in this system should be shot.’
‘He’s not the one I’m worried about getting shot,’ Cobb admitted.
Garcia kept his eyes glued to the computer screen. ‘With that in mind, I see a potential problem inside the front door. Your giant friend is waiting by the entrance.’
‘Kamal?’ Cobb asked.
‘Yep,’ McNutt said as he walked past the giant and casually glanced around the lobby as if he was a lost tourist trying to get his bearings. ‘Don’t worry. I got him. He’s kind of hard to miss. If he makes a move, I’ll take him out.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ Cobb turned around and glanced at Sarah. Even though she had been ta
lking to Dade the entire time, mostly to distract him, she had been half-listening to Cobb’s conversation with the others. She gave him a subtle nod to let him know that she was aware of Kamal. ‘Okay, we’re coming in.’
‘Still clear,’ McNutt assured him.
But just to be safe, he fingered his trigger.
Cobb entered first, followed by Dade, then Sarah. Unlike the others, Dade wasn’t prepared for the sudden appearance of Kamal, who clogged the lobby with his looming presence. Standing by the castle gate, he seemed more like an ogre than a man.
Dade could almost feel the brute’s hot breath on his face.
And Kamal did little to hide his anger.
For a moment, Dade was worried that Kamal would ignore the others and simply shoot him right there on the steps.
Instead, he motioned for them to follow him.
As they moved deeper inside, Cobb marveled at the stonework and the ingenuity of the building’s design. A central column opened to the sky, with the rooms of the structure built around it. Grated windows on every level allowed for quick communication between the floors. These openings meant that anything shouted from the roof could be heard all the way to the ground – saving valuable seconds in the event of an invasion.
Up ahead, Cobb could see a strange green light radiating from one of the rooms. His mind flashed back to the timers of the bomb packs, and the eerie glow that they had given off in the darkness of the tunnels. The thought reaffirmed why they were here: they had to find out who was responsible for Jasmine’s abduction.
Even if it meant meeting the devil himself.
‘This is where I lost Hassan,’ Garcia announced, as he tapped away on his keyboard. ‘There are no cameras beyond the door.’
‘And no way to circle ahead,’ McNutt said.
Just then, Kamal stopped short of the room.
He turned, then motioned for the others to continue.
McNutt, who was lingering in a nearby hallway, was concerned. ‘Chief, we have no eyes in that room. Repeat. We have no eyes in that room. It might be a trap.’
But Cobb knew better. And so did Sarah.
They had been there before.
The first thing Cobb noticed when he peeked inside was the filtered green light cast by the wall-mounted lamps. It was simply unavoidable; the whole room was bathed in green. From his previous trip, he knew that green was a traditional color of the Islamic faith. He also knew that this wasn’t just a random room in the castle.
This was a mosque – a sacred place of worship.
And standing in the center was Hassan.
The divine symbolism was not lost on Cobb. He knew that Hassan’s intentions were far from holy. In fact, they were a desecration. He had brought them to this room to make one thing clear – that their fate was his to determine.
But Cobb didn’t quite see it that way.
Before Hassan could utter a word, Cobb refused to enter the room. ‘Not in here. It isn’t appropriate.’
It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t a request. It was a clear statement of fact. There was no way that he was going to conduct business in a holy room.
No matter what.
Hassan, who was used to getting his way, reacted poorly to the situation. He shouted something in Arabic that neither Cobb nor Sarah could understand.
Suddenly, Kamal moved to block Cobb’s retreat into the corridor. He was several inches taller and several inches wider than Cobb. He stared down at him with rage in his eyes. ‘You stay.’
Cobb looked up at Kamal. ‘We’re not meeting in here. Not in this room.’
Hassan shouted again in Arabic.
Kamal translated. ‘You have a problem with Islam?’
Cobb turned and faced Hassan. ‘No. But the things we must discuss are not meant for these walls. Your faith preaches forgiveness. I’m here for vengeance.’
Hassan smiled and switched to English. ‘As am I.’
Dade’s heart pounded in his chest as Hassan walked toward them. The Egyptian joined Cobb at the mosque’s entrance where he took a moment to slip on his shoes. In truth, that was another reason that Cobb had refused to enter the room. He knew it was customary to remove one’s shoes before entering a mosque, and he didn’t want to face a possible gunfight in his bare feet.
He had learned that from Die Hard.
Hassan stared at Cobb, sizing him up. ‘Shall we walk?’
Cobb nodded in agreement.
They walked side by side through a long, arched corridor that connected the front and back halves of the building. Sarah, Dade, and Kamal trailed behind, eyeing each other cautiously like warring nations during a ceasefire.
Hassan opened the conversation. ‘You have news about the explosion?’
‘I do,’ Cobb replied. He knew there was no reason to string him along. The purpose of this meeting was simple: he would offer everything he knew about the bombing in exchange for anything Hassan knew about the bombers. ‘They used Semtex, most likely from the Libyan black market.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘The bomb pack was crafted from a Tunisian timer. My sources tell me that fits with a configuration popular among Libyan suppliers.’
‘Your sources? Who are you?’
‘American. Former military. That tells you enough.’
Hassan laughed. As he climbed a flight of steps to the second level, he waved his arms and glanced around the stairwell. ‘This whole building was constructed before your Columbus even discovered America. What are you doing in Egypt?’
‘I’m looking for my colleague.’
His tone made it clear that he had no interest in discussing their original mission. The only thing that mattered was Jasmine. ‘The men who took her are the same men who blew up your territory. I believe that puts us on the same side of the equation.’
Hassan grinned. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend, yes?’
49
Cobb shook his head. He didn’t want there to be any miscommunication with the crime lord. ‘Let’s not kid ourselves. You and I are not friends – and we’re never going to be friends. Let’s just say we have a common interest.’
Hassan shrugged. He didn’t care about semantics; he was more concerned with Cobb’s ulterior motives. Something had brought the Americans to his city, but he didn’t know what it was. ‘And all you want is the woman?’
‘No,’ Cobb assured him, ‘I also want to punish the men who took her. If you have any objections, please speak now because later will be too late.’
Hassan shook his head. ‘I have none. As you have said, these men have wronged me as well. I wish to see them punished for all they have done.’
‘Then tell me everything. This is your city, and you know the players. If you have any clue about what we’re up against, let me know. In exchange, I’ll hunt them down, and everyone gets what they want.’
* * *
One of the many traits that distinguished Garcia from the rest of the team was the way he saw patterns in seemingly random events. His photographic memory allowed him to match things that he had already seen with whatever new data was presented to him. It was an innate ability that had driven him into mathematics, then computers, then eventually the FBI.
Using his laptop, Garcia watched Cobb’s conversation with Hassan as they moved from hallways to stairwells and back again. Eventually, something bothered him.
‘Josh, do me a favor and slow down a bit.’
McNutt did as told. ‘Problem?’
‘I think Hassan has a shadow.’
‘No shit,’ he laughed. ‘So far I’ve counted six.’
‘And you’ve pointed out all of them.’
‘What’s your point?’
‘I think I found number seven.’
McNutt decided to hear him out. ‘Fine. Who?’
Garcia stared at the image on his screen. ‘The short, bald guy with the sunglasses. He’s been circling the others, but they have yet to cross paths. That’s an unlikely coincidence.
He’s intentionally avoiding a run-in, yet he’s staying close enough to strike if Hassan needs him.’
McNutt glanced at the man in question. While his shaved head gave him a slightly intimidating quality, he was barely five and a half feet tall. Furthermore, he was thin and willowy – hardly the bodyguard type.
‘Are you sure the sun’s not getting to you?’
‘Just humor me,’ Garcia said. ‘Don’t lose track of him.’
‘I’ll try, but that may be tough.’
‘Why?’
‘That guy is a shrimp.’
* * *
Cobb had detected six shadows as well. These men thought they had gone unnoticed, but each had been betrayed by their actions. Glances that lasted too long. A pace that was too fast or too slow. Feigned interest in the smallest of details.
Cobb noticed them all.
They might as well have worn little nametags that read: HELLO, MY NAME IS: GOON.
But it wasn’t a surprise to Cobb. He knew that Hassan would bring a lot of protection. A man of his stature had more than just Kamal, Tarek, and the other tunnel rats on his payroll. That much was certain.
As they exited the lower floors of the citadel and stepped out onto the expansive terrace, Cobb pressed Hassan for details. ‘Given the damage that I saw, there were at least a dozen men in the tunnels – some to set the charges, and the rest to clear their way. These weren’t amateurs. They knew exactly what they were doing.’
‘Did you see them?’
‘Only the dead ones,’ Cobb admitted. ‘They could see like owls and climb like monkeys – like some sort of olive-skinned ninjas.’
‘What about their clothes?’
‘They wore black pants and black tunics. And their weapon of choice was a unique blade that I’ve never seen before. Does any of that sound familiar?’
Hassan did not answer. He simply leaned against the outer wall of the citadel and stared out across the water. His lungs filled with sea air as he closed his eyes, allowing the afternoon sun to warm his face.
The Forbidden Tomb Page 27
