"You're right. I have been kicking myself, and it's been affecting my focus. I've set a trap for her. I know one more place she will eventually get to, and when she does, she'll know she bit off more than she can chew."
"Phillips, you're not going to blow up Langley or anything, are you?" Starr asked.
"Relax, no. But I am going to send Ms. Banks a very strong message, a very strong personal message. It should stop her from any more searching, but if it doesn't, well, she'll only have herself to blame for what will follow. Guys, I'd really like to leave it at that."
"That's fine by me. You okay with that?" Styles questioned.
"Okay with what?" Christman replied innocently.
"Thanks."
Styles asked, "J. C., get me those video bugs and a GPS transmitter. I'm going to place that in the clearing where I want you to land the copter if we need you. I was going to show you this afternoon, but that's all down the tubes. Make sure everybody has their comm sets on. Tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day, so get some rest. I won't be gone very long, a few hours at most. This is a get-in, get-out deal."
It was just after nine when Styles found himself back in the same place as the previous evening. He'd had no problem remembering where the security devices were hidden. He was just inside the tree line with the cabins to his right. He carefully made his way to a tree he'd spotted where the lights for the parking area would not cause a glare on the camera lens. He attached one of the video cameras, which featured both wide-angle and zoom capability. Looking hard at the rooftops, he saw guards positioned as previously. The one closest to him was paying more attention to the back of the cabins. Odd. The second guard was on the far end. He could see the glow of the cigarette he was smoking. Styles paused and carefully smelled the air. Despite the different fragrances that the woods offered, he could make out the odor of the tobacco. They're upwind. That was good not only for scent but noise, as well. Again he was dressed head to foot in full camo, including face paint on his face and hands. The BMW that he was certain Ellhad had left in the night before was parked in the third parking spot from his position. To its right sat a pickup truck and a four-wheel-drive dually pickup. That will be the tow vehicle. Only the cabin at the far end had lights on. He calculated his odds as very strong that he could make it to the truck to plant a transmitter on the large truck. He made his way along the tree line until he was at the most advantageous point of attack. He estimated he was eighty feet from the truck. One place, just about middistance, was going to be the most dangerous. It was the area that was bathed in the most light by the streetlamps. He got down and started to belly-crawl. He would advance a body length at a time and then pause and repeat the process. He went through the lighted area nonstop. A few seconds later, he found himself at the rear of the target. He crawled underneath and affixed the transmitter. This was a strong unit with a range of just over one hundred miles. This will save Starr some hassle.
Suddenly, a door opened, and Styles froze. The cabin up at the end with the lights on had an individual walking out of the door. He lit a cigarette and continued walking toward Styles, in front of the parked vehicles. A second man emerged and walked around the far end of the last cabin. Fucking guard change. The man on the roof to Styles's right moved off the platform and started down the ladder. The two engaged in a short conversation before the new arrival went back up the ladder. The second guard went into the cabin directly in front of Styles. Lights came on. Shit. Seconds later, the man who had been on the far end of the roof came walking toward Styles. He entered the cabin just to Styles's left. Lights came on. Styles had no choice but to lie and wait under the truck. The front windows of both cabins did not have any curtains or blinds drawn, and light was pouring out. It was too risky for him to move. He waited. Within ten minutes, the lights in the cabin directly in front of him were turned off. One down. Unfortunately, the lights in the cabin to Styles's left remained on. Fifteen minutes went by, and nothing changed. Styles had not seen any movement from the cabin. He studied the area directly behind him. There was a large clump of bushes sixty feet away at his five o'clock. After waiting another five minutes, he decided to go for it. The ultimate destination was the main house to place surveillance cameras. Silent as a cat, he belly-crawled backward, five feet at a time. Still nothing changed. He kept going, finally reaching the shrubs. Now all he had was ten feet to the paved drive and the tree line ten feet past that, and he was on his way. So far, so good.
Undetected, he arrived at the main house. He secured the first camera, much more advanced than the ones he'd had the previous evening, capturing the front door, a second to capture the driveway out to the main road, and a third and a fourth to capture the front and sides of the house. Satisfied, he began the trip back to his Jeep. He was only fifteen feet back into the trees when the front door of the house opened. Styles saw a man he thought was Ryyaki Ali. The second man was unknown. They were speaking in Arabic. While not fluent, Styles had picked up enough to make most of the conversation out. The blood in his veins froze when he heard a word that translated to assassination.
He crawled back as close as he dared. The two men continued speaking quietly. He was not able to pick up much more of the conversation. One name was overheard: Nazir al-Hadid.
Six minutes later, the second man started walking toward the cabins, while the man Styles was sure to be Ryyaki Ali went back inside. Twenty seconds later, the lights in the stately mansion began to darken, and Styles was making his way behind the tree line, headed for his Jeep.
Less than two minutes later, the familiar odor of cigarette smoke alerted Styles. Thankfully, there were many pine trees in these woods, which meant pine needles on the ground, making it easier to be quiet. He got a fix on the location from the wind direction and started scoping the area with his night goggles. It took him less than twenty seconds to locate the source. Another guard on a platform built into a tree. He was surprised. How did I get through before and not see one of these? Then he realized that he was at least two hundred feet to his right from where he'd come through before. After checking for the pressure plates, he'd become complacent, which was not like him. Mentally, he slapped himself on the back of his head. He studied the man carefully, coming to the conclusion that he was not wearing night-vision gear, at least not for the moment. He slowly eased off to his left, being careful to keep trees or shrubs between him and the man on the platform. In less than five minutes, he was comfortable he was out of any danger of the man spotting or hearing him. Then the lights came on.
Styles didn't know how, but he'd triggered something that caused lights that were secured to the very base of trees that illuminated upward, virtually lighting up the whole area. He heard men yelling. He was on the fringe of the area that was lit, so he did the unexpected: he retreated back toward the main house. With his silenced Beretta in hand, he walked as briskly as possible without sounding like a herd of deer. He zigzagged from large tree to large tree, constantly keeping aware of the direction voices were coming from. He was virtually surrounded. He could now make out voices coming up from the cabins. He weighed his options and decided on doing the unexpected. Rather than run away from them, he would advance directly at them. Shots rang out, but he heard no bullets whizzing through the trees near him. He continued his backward retreat. He froze and got down on the ground. Two guards were coming straight at him, not more than fifty feet away. He remained motionless. Suddenly, the area he was in lit up. The two guards had triggered what he now surmised was a battery-powered light system. If he stood up, he would be seen. Shit!