“Well, what does it look like?”
“Crashing my party.”
He gave Carrie a quick sideways glance.
She grinned.
“Thanks,” he said. “I would be a dead man now.”
“Any time. Even when you don’t want it.”
“Justin, I’ve got them.” Yuliya stepped next to him, her AK pointed at Al-Khaiwani and Hamidi.
Justin turned around and fell into Carrie’s arms. She held him tight, so tight he felt the pain from the gunshot jabbing through his chest. He tried to hide his wince, but Carrie noticed it. She stepped back and looked at him.
“What is it?” she said. “You’re wounded?”
“Took one in the chest. The vest stopped it. Are you OK? What are you doing here?”
Carrie grinned. “I’m good. But I couldn’t let you have all the fun. McClain wanted someone to stop the rogue agent.”
Justin arched his eyebrows. “Me? A rogue agent?”
“Apparently. He dispatched me and Nathan.”
Gunshots erupted outside. Justin’s fingers tightened around his pistol.
“It’s OK. That’s Mossad cleaning up the place.”
“Mossad?”
“Yes. Their choppers. They’re here for Hamidi. He sold guns to Hamas and Hezbollah.”
“Uh-uh,” Yuliya said. “He’s mine.”
Justin shrugged. “Maybe they’ll be happy to give this scumbag a ride to Tel Aviv as well.” He looked at Al-Khaiwani. “I’m sure you’ve pissed off a lot of Israelis. How would you like a one-way trip to Israel in Mossad’s company? They’ll treat you well, really well.”
Al-Khaiwani kept his stoic face, but Justin noticed a sliver of fear in his eyes.
The credible threat of imminent harm changed the point of view of even the staunchest leaders. There was no need for torture. Just the threat of unavoidable, endless pain and unbearable, horrible suffering usually did the job.
“Think about it. You’ve got thirty seconds,” Justin said.
Loud voices came from outside, then heavy boots thumping on the concrete floor.
“Nathan should have already explained our situation to Mossad,” Carrie said to Justin.
“Drop the guns, all of you, drop them,” a strong voice in heavily accented English came from down the hall and around the corner.
“Friendlies, we’re friendlies. Canadian agents,” Justin shouted back.
“And Spetsnaz, Russian special forces,” Yuliya said.
“Drop your guns. Put them down,” the voice commanded them.
Justin raised his pistol an inch.
“We’re on the same side here,” Carrie said. “Friendlies.”
Another voice was heard talking in Hebrew, then a man stepped out into the hall. He held his empty hands to his sides in plain view. He was dressed in olive drab fatigues, complete with a chest rig, gun holsters, and all the tools of the trade. “My name is Ben-David and I’m—”
Carrie interrupted him. “Eliakim? Here of all places.”
“Carrie, why didn’t you say so?” Eliakim said with a smile.
He spoke a few words in rapid Hebrew. Three men in similar uniforms stepped out of their positions. They pointed their assault rifles at the two men in white robes.
Carrie began the introductions. “This is my partner, Justin Hall and this is—”
“Yuliya Markov, Spetsnaz.”
They all shook hands.
Justin asked, “How are your men?”
Eliakim’s face fell. “One is grave. We may lose him. Two have broken bones, but they’re stable. They’ll make it.”
Justin sighed. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, so am I,” Eliakim replied.
He turned to Yuliya and began to talk to her in Russian. Yuliya pointed a few times at Hamidi, shaking her head. Her voice grew louder, and she became more animated. Eliakim tried to keep a cool tone, once in a while rubbing his black anchor beard.
“What are they saying?” Carrie whispered to Justin.
“Deciding Hamidi’s fate,” he replied, then pulled Carrie aside. “Yuliya’s boyfriend was killed in Sana’a.”
“She wants revenge.”
Justin nodded. “And I want the traitor’s name.”
He turned to Al-Khaiwani. “Your last chance.”
“What do you give me?” Al-Khaiwani asked in Arabic.
Justin frowned. “I give you your life, as I don’t hand you over to the Israelis. You’ll come with me and face a fair trial.”
“And I’ll end up in prison? For life?”
Justin shrugged. “Unless you prefer Mossad and their hospitality.” He gestured toward Eliakim.
Al-Khaiwani hesitated for a moment. Justin knew it was not easy for him to give out his secrets, but it was not difficult either. When pressed with their back against death’s door, most people chose life. He hoped Al-Khaiwani was one of those people.
“I want to talk to you alone,” Al-Khaiwani said.
“She comes with me.” Justin pointed at Carrie. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of her.”
Al-Khaiwani nodded.
“We’re gonna have a little chat, while you figure things out,” Justin said to Yuliya and Eliakim.
He nudged Al-Khaiwani, and the man began to walk in front of them. Carrie kept her AK at the ready, in case the man got any ideas. Justin still held his pistol in his right hand.
They stopped when they were beyond earshot of the closest Mossad agent.
“The name,” Justin said.
Al-Khaiwani nodded. “You won’t believe it, what I’m about to tell you, but it’s true. The traitor you’re looking for is not a man, and it’s someone who used to be very close to you. Your old boss. Claire Johnson.”
Justin’s eyes grew dark. A big frown appeared on his face. His jaws clenched and so did his fists. “You’re lying, you son of a…” He raised his pistol and pressed it against Al-Khaiwani’s temple. He shouted, “Tell me the truth.”
Al-Khaiwani grinned. “This is the truth, but the truth hurts. You were betrayed by your ex-Director General. She placed a virus or some kind of software inside your agency’s databases. And she gave us the information.”
“Why? Why would she do that?” Justin shouted, jamming his pistol against Al-Khaiwani’s head.
“Justin, let him talk,” Carrie said, stepping in between them.
“You… you’ll have to ask Johnson yourself,” Al-Khaiwani’s said. “I’m telling you the truth. And I’ve got proof. I’ll give you the proof”
“Fuck,” Justin shouted.
He turned around and swore again.
Then he locked eyes with Al-Khaiwani and stepped very close to the man’s face. He could feel Al-Khaiwani’s hot breath. “If I find out you lied to me, I’m going to make you curse the day you were born. The Abu Ghraib tortures would look like a gentle massage in comparison.”
Justin stormed out of the warehouse.
Ten minutes later, Carrie found him sitting in the shade next to what was left of one of the walls in front of the camp. A man she did not know was with him, drinking from a small metal flask. He was wearing fatigues similar to Yuliya’s. A machine gun was lying at his feet.
“Justin,” she called out at him.
“Hey.”
His eyes had lost some of the earlier flare, but his face was locked in a menacing grin. He was plotting. Plotting revenge.
“How are you?” Carrie asked.
“Hmmm… I’ve been better. This is Daniel. Spetsnaz. He came with me and Yuliya. He had our back from the hills.”
“Nice to meet you,” Carrie said.
Daniel nodded. He lifted his flask. “Vodka?”
“No, thanks,” Carrie replied in a soft voice.
Daniel shrugged and swallowed a long sip.
“I’ve got to talk to my partner,” Justin said to Daniel and walked a few steps with Carrie in tow. He looked back to make sure they were at a safe distance, then said, “I can’t believe Johnson did this, betraying us, betraying her country.”