Both men nodded, each retrieving a die from Laman’s outstretched hand.
Habeeb rolled first with a five turning up.
“Well done,” Laman said. “The odds are in your favor.”
Mahmod exhaled and tossed his die onto the table. Once the die stopped rolling, every man in the room rose out of their seats to see the result of the toss. It was a six.
Laman turned toward Mahmod, whose face turned white. “Do not fear, my friend, for you will be immortalized and rewarded—as Muhammad stated in the Hadith—with seventy-two virgins. You will be leaving the turmoil of this life for paradise with plenty of beautiful women to keep you company.
Mahmod smiled faintly and nodded.
“We will discuss details later, but for now we can move forward with our tactical planning. You are all dismissed to return to your research.”
***
MAHMOD WAITED UNTIL LAMAN exited the room before retreating downstairs. Entering the bunk room, Mahmod crashed onto his bottom bunk and closed his eyes. He’d always considered himself committed to the cause, a faithful follower of the teachings of Muhammad. But no longer was his faith a set of ideals to be admired and practiced in the comfortable environment of like-minded people. No, his faith was now a manifesto that required an enormous sacrifice. Mahmod had to take the next step from little more than an admirer of Muhammad to a true believer.
Mahmod wasn’t sure he had the faith to move forward.
The door to the bunk room creaked open, and Mahmod snapped his head in that direction.
Habeeb stood at the doorway, watching Mahmod. Quickly closing the door, Habeeb strode across the floor toward Mahmod’s bunk before sitting down at the foot of the bed.
“This is where our faith becomes real, forged in the fire,” Habeeb said.
Mahmod sat up. “I want to believe, but I’m having a hard time with the fact that I must orphan my children and widow my wife.”
“You knew this might happen when you signed up to join Al Hasib.”
“There's a difference between a possibility and a reality. Most people know there’s a possibility they could die in a car accident each time they travel in a vehicle, but they ignore it and go on with their lives. However, for some of those people, that possibility turns into tragedy—not just for them but also for their families.”
“Yet it stops no one from getting into a car. And it shouldn’t stop you from living like you truly believe the faith we hold so dearly.”
A tear trickled down Mahmod’s face. “I don’t want to die. I have so much to live for. I never thought I would be the one selected to do this.”
“You have much to live for, but you have even more to die for,” Habeeb said. “Your children may miss you, but they will be taken care of. And because of your sacrifice, many more children will have a bright future. This is what Allah created you to do. He willed it when the die was cast.”
Mahmod nodded and wiped away another streaking tear. He wanted to agree with Habeeb, but he couldn’t. Not yet anyway.
CHAPTER 12
HAWK SAT DOWN at the back of the federal courthouse and waited for Theo Brown’s name to be called. In the previous hour, Hawk had visited with a long-time friend from college, Cicely Jackson, who’d gone on to law school and was starting to work her way through the ranks of the federal prosecutor’s office in San Francisco. He explained the connection between Brown and Al Hasib agents flooding the city—and how imperative it was to let Brown go free. She discussed it with her boss, and they agreed to let Brown go for the weekend with the condition that he wore an ankle monitor and returned to court Monday for the arraignment.
It didn’t give Hawk much time, but he was content to take what they gave him.
Just after 10:00 a.m., a shackled Brown shuffled into the courthouse. He kept his head down, barely looking up at the judge as he read out the charges the federal government had filed against him. Brown’s lawyer, a disheveled man in his mid-fifties, flipped through a folder of haphazardly stacked papers while the judge spoke.
“These are serious charges, Mr. Brown,” the judge said. “Do you understand them?”
Brown glanced at the judge and nodded before returning his gaze downward.
“Very well then. I’m releasing you today under the condition that you wear an ankle monitor and return Monday morning for your arraignment, hopefully then you’ll return with representation who’s more prepared.
“Sorry, your honor,” the lawyer said.
“Save it for someone who cares,” the judge snapped.
Brown slowly looked up, eyes wide. He appeared in disbelief at his good fortune.
Forty-five minutes later after filling out some paperwork and receiving both a tutorial on his ankle monitor and a boundary map, Brown walked out of the federal courthouse. He squinted at the sun’s glare bouncing off the glass building in front of him. Hustling down the steps, he headed toward the bus stop—but he never made it there.
Hawk, who’d been watching Brown’s every move, slid right into Brown’s path and didn’t budge.
“Hey, man, watch where you’re going!” Brown snapped as he tried to push his way past Hawk.
Hawk grabbed Brown’s arm and gave it a little squeeze. “I’m not the one headed for a long stint in the federal pen.”
Brown tried to shake Hawk’s grip but couldn’t. “You’re about to be headed for a beat down if you don’t let go of my arm.”
“You’ve got two options, Mr. Brown,” Hawk said, refusing to relinquish his grip. “You can either come with me and enjoy a few more days of freedom, or you can go on your merry way. If you choose the second option, I’ll make sure that Laman Fazir gets word that you ratted him out in federal court today.”
“Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now let go of my arm.”
“All I have to do is to give him your GPS tracking code, which I have, by the way. If you really believe he’ll think twice about wasting you, think again. I’ve heard he’s not very forgiving.”
Hawk relaxed his grip, but Brown didn’t move.
“What do you want?” Brown said with a scowl.
“Simply put, I want you. However, I'd also like to offer you something.”
“Oh, yeah. What’s that?”
“A chance at redemption.”
Brown rolled his eyes. “I ain’t got time to listen to your sanctimonious bullshit. You better get to the point.”
“The point is I won’t shed half a tear for a scumbag who trafficks women, let alone underage girls,” Hawk said, jamming his finger into Brown’s chest. “But I will offer a man a chance to atone for such gross atrocities against mankind.”
Brown sighed and scanned the sidewalk behind Hawk.
“If it weren’t for me, you would’ve spent the next few nights in a federal holding facility,” Hawk said. “But I orchestrated a deal for you. If you comply with my request, you’ll at least get the opportunity to spend one last weekend with your family free from the confines of a prison. It’s the least you could do after pimping all those innocent girls.”
Brown’s head dropped. He let out a long breath.
“Is there anything else you can do for me?” Brown asked.
“You’re already getting far more than you deserve,” Hawk said. “Maybe if you’re willing to work with the federal prosecutor to catch the rest of the players, I’ll ask them to be lenient on you. That’s all I can promise.”
“So I guess I don’t have much of choice then, do I?”
“We always have choices—it’s what we decide to do that determines our destiny. Even those girls had a choice. They could’ve run from you. But they didn’t, out of fear for their lives. They chose a life of degradation and humiliation over death. Not an easy choice either.”
Brown relaxed his posture. “Fine, what do you want to know?”
CHAPTER 13
WITH HAWK GATHERING INTEL, Alex decided to give Kade Parker a call and see what he had to say. At best, she might b
e able to gain a little insight into Searchlight. At worst, she’d have some company to eat with at a bistro she’d heard some native San Franciscans raving about at the airport. She plugged in Parker’s number to her phone and disguised her call’s true origin.
You can never be too careful.
After the second ring, Parker answered.
“Kade, this is Alex. I’d like to talk.”
“I’m glad you came to your senses.”
“Can you meet me at Bistro Aix in an hour for lunch?”
“See you there.”
Alex felt a twinge of guilt for not telling Hawk in advance about her meeting with Parker. It wasn’t the brightest idea to venture into a conversation with an operative of a relatively unknown organization in an unfamiliar city without at least letting someone know about her plans. But she figured Bistro Aix was public enough. She’d retrace her steps when she left—and trace them again before she returned to her hotel. Parker wouldn’t be able to follow her, that much she was sure of.
I’ll be fine.
An hour later, Alex settled into her chair at Bistro Aix and awaited Parker’s arrival.
She ordered a drink and looked up at the television, which was running its midday news program. The perky blonde sitting behind the desk with a small stack of papers stared at the camera and smiled big.
Organizers are gearing up for one of the city’s biggest celebrations of the year—the anniversary of the Golden Gate Bridge opening. This year, more than a quarter of a million people are expected to participate in a 5K run/walk across the bridge . . . .
Alex lost interest in the report, mostly because the anchor’s perfect hair and smile annoyed Alex. When Parker finally showed up ten minutes late, he never apologized.
Once he sat down, he leaned back in his chair. “So, Alex, what brought about this change of heart?”
“Nothing’s changed yet. I’m still considering your offer.”
“It’s not an infinite offer, you know? At some point, you need to make a decision. And the sooner, the better as far as you’re concerned.”
“As a practice, I don’t make decisions hastily. I’ve found that when people pressure me into choosing something, it’s rarely in my best interest.”
“This would be one of those rare instances then.”
The waiter interrupted their conversation and took their drink order.
Alex leaned forward in her chair. “Look, I’m not here to debate the merits of your offer. I’m just here to get a clearer understanding of what exactly that offer is, perhaps starting with the name of your employer.”
Parker clucked his tongue and wagged his finger. “Now I’m sure you know divulging such information is off limits. Why would you even ask? This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“It isn’t mine, either,” Alex shot back. “And to be honest, I need to know what I’m getting myself into if I decide to join Searchlight.”
“Here’s what you need to know: Searchlight is the leading independent espionage agency in the world. Quite frankly, we tell Anonymous who to target. That’s the kind of clout we have. Nobody has more well-placed agents than Searchlight.”
“So, why do you need me then?”
“We recognize talent when we see it. My employer believes you’d be a valuable asset to the team. And he’d much rather recruit you now than watch you go down when Firestorm collapses in public disgrace.” Parker paused for effect. “There’s no safety net with an organization that the government will disavow any knowledge of. And even if you were to escape somehow, you’d be damaged goods.”
Alex took a sip of her water and exhaled a long breath. If Parker was being forthright with her, it was an offer she needed to seriously consider. Her passion in working with computers and helping eliminate national security threats would likely remain unfulfilled for the rest of her life. The thought of prison was unbearable. That alone was enough to sway her. But Alex refused to appear desperate, even if Parker was doing his best to make her feel that way.
“This offer sounds intriguing, but I can’t live off hugs and free coffee,” Alex said.
Parker nodded. “Searchlight is a well-funded organization. I can assure you that you’ll be compensated handsomely.”
“How handsomely? Are we talking Seth Rogen or Brad Pitt here?”
“Antonio Banderas handsomely.”
“Which would translate into how many dollars per year?”
Parker’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think money was such a factor for you.”
“If I’m about to abandon everyone I know and disappear underground to work for you, it’s not going to be for slave wages, that’s for sure.”
“Half a million a year plus a secure penthouse suite in New York.”
“New York? You’re going to make me move.”
“I promise you’ll hardly spend a night there. Searchlight prefers to keep its assets in the field as much as possible.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Well, I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?” Parker asked. “It’s either the right thing to do—or it isn’t. And I’d be willing to bet that right now, however you feel in your gut is how you’re going to decide.”
“Perhaps you’re right, but I still need to mull it over some more.”
“Suit yourself, but just remember that when my employer extends this offer to you, it doesn’t last forever. He wants an answer by Monday at noon.”
Once he finished his sentence, Parker stood up, tossed a one-hundred-dollar bill on the table, put his sunglasses on, and joined the lunchtime throng hustling along the sidewalk. In a matter of seconds, he blended in with the crowd and vanished from Alex’s sight.
The decision weighed heavily upon her now, so much so that she felt like her life had come to a diverging path in the woods. Neither choice held much promise or security as far as she could tell. Firestorm? Searchlight? What if the NSA decided to offer her a job?
With no certainty, her decision was little more than a crap shoot. And for all she knew, she could be playing with a pair of loaded dice.
Maybe it’s time for a change of scenery.
CHAPTER 14
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Hawk went for a trail run in Muir Woods. He needed to clear his head and process all the information Theo Brown gave him. Brown explained the hierarchy of Laman’s operation in San Francisco but concluded that he wasn’t orchestrating everything, though Brown admitted he didn’t have a name. Brown’s revelation about Al Hasib’s cell activity resulted in very little actionable intel with the exception of one piece of news: Talib Al-Asadi was coming to the city to conduct a special op. Brown swore he didn’t know anything else, but just that it was happening in the next couple of weeks.
Hawk was all too familiar with Al-Asadi’s work. Hawk had seen photos from an Army reconnaissance team that documented just how lethal of an operative the Al Hasib agent could be. More than a dozen special forces were butchered by Al-Asadi in a mountain village just west of Kandahar, Afghanistan, near the Pakistan border. According to a report from the one soldier who survived, Al-Asadi acted alone. The gruesome images were difficult for Hawk to shake as Al-Asadi’s trademark was gouging out one eye of each victim and putting it in their mouths. The message seemed clear: Al-Asadi viewed the Americans as pigs.
Hawk felt his heartrate quicken as he relished a showdown with Al-Asadi. But Hawk channeled his rage into his workout. He barely felt his calves burn while running up a steep path. Breezing past tourists who gazed skyward at the towering Redwoods, Hawk surveyed the trail ahead, mastering each course change with ease. He’d run on these paths many times in the past, but it had been a few years. Yet it made little difference in the tact he took to conquer the paths that wound and twisted beneath the dense canopy.
Those arrogant bastards have the audacity to think they can strike in my country without repercussions? They’ll never see me coming.
Hawk gritted his teeth as he envisioned himself wreaking havoc o
n the Al Hasib cell. He looked forward to his clash with Al-Asadi, even if he had no idea when it would occur.
As Hawk approached a switchback, he noticed another woman running toward him. Sporting a gray hooded sweatshirt, she brushed Hawk hard along the shoulder without even uttering a word. Hawk stopped and spun to watch her. He’d only grabbed just a glimpse of her face, but he was sure he knew her.
Emily?
He wanted to call out her name, but he paused. He had to be imagining it. He hadn’t given much thought to Alex’s premonition that Emily Thornton was still alive, dismissing it quickly. He knew what he saw—and he was certain Emily was dead.
But maybe not. He was almost just as certain that he’d passed her on the trail seconds before.
He didn’t take his eyes off her as she hustled up the hill as if she were racing. She was focused and determined. Even common courtesy and manners appeared trumped by her singular focus. And whatever her goal, it remained a mystery to Hawk.
He didn’t stop watching her until she disappeared over the top of a nearby ridge.
Twenty minutes later, Hawk climbed into his car and glanced at his phone. He had a message from General Johnson requesting an immediate callback.
“What’s so urgent?” Hawk asked.
“I’ve got some new intelligence that you need to know about,” Johnson said.
“Talk to me.”
“Al Hasib is setting up an op to kidnap Tom Colton.”
“When?”
“He’s going to be speaking at an event here tomorrow. It’s some tech conference.”
“Have you told him yet about the threat?”
“Yeah, but he’s not interested in our help. He said if he couldn’t protect himself, nobody was safe. Also added something about how he was going to let the terrorists bully him. I was hoping you could persuade him to let us provide him with some extra protection.”
Hawk took a deep breath. “I’ll give him a call.”
“I knew I could count on you. And, Hawk?”
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