The man’s roundish face appeared in the dim light coming from a single dome in the middle of the ceiling. His thin black eyebrows nearly came together over a thick, stubby nose. His brown eyes had dark bags under them and wrinkles stretching out from the corners.
“Of course we know who you are, Agent Starks. We know everything about you and your little operation. Although it was difficult to get information at first. My primary contact in Washington didn’t seem to know anything about what you were doing. Fortunately, we had another source. How do you think we found your boat off the coast of Somalia?”
Emily had wondered about that. Only a few people knew they’d taken a yacht from Kenya to infiltrate Mogadishu. That meant Axis had a leak. Or there was another possibility.
She turned her head and faced Sean. “Looks like your friend has made some new acquaintances.”
Sean clenched his eyebrows together. “What? Who? Tommy?” He shook his head as he scoffed at the insinuation. “He wouldn’t.”
Fitz interrupted their spat and asked their host, “Just exactly what are you planning here? Torturing us with nonstop CNN until we give you something you want? Because I gotta be honest, I’ll break after five minutes. Maybe four.”
“Always the sense of humor, Agent Fitzpatrick. No, we did not bring you here to torture you.” He motioned to the television. “We want you to see events unfold that will change the course of history. From here, you will watch as our plan comes to fruition. You will see the reckoning take place, live.”
“The reckoning?” Sean asked. “No offense; sounds kinda like a horror story based in New England.”
The man in charge ignored him for the moment. “Ahmed?” he said to the guy in the gray suit. “Could you open the doors for our guests? It’s a tad stuffy in here.”
Sean sensed hints of Western culture in the man’s verbiage. The way he worded things sounded like he’d possibly gone to school in America, maybe England.
Ahmed made quick work of the doors, and a cool morning breeze wafted in over the balcony. Cream-colored linen curtains fluttered in the gentle wind.
“That’s better,” the man in charge said. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I should have introduced myself.”
“We know who you are,” Emily said. “You’re Omar Khalif. Billionaire. And you’re supposed to be on our side.”
He twisted his head to the right at an angle. “Side? Of course I’m on your side. I love America. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Then why are you keeping us here?”
“Yeah,” Sean piped in. “And what are you gonna do with all those missiles?”
“I already told you. The reckoning is upon us. Soon you will witness justice meted out upon the enemies of God’s true people. And in a way, you’ll have a front-row seat.”
Fitz had semi-recovered from being kicked in the kidneys and sat up straight. “What do you mean… by all that?”
Khalif drew in a long breath through his nostrils and sighed with satisfaction. He stepped out onto the balcony and flicked the ash off his cigar before stepping back inside.
“I wasn’t always a wealthy man,” he began. “I was a poor boy, growing up on the streets of Cairo just a few miles from here. One day I met a man who took me in, taught me a righteous path, and saved me from a life of crime and poverty.”
“Got a CliffsNotes version of this?” Sean asked.
Ahmed motioned to the guard nearest him. The man nodded and jammed the butt of his gun into Sean’s upper back.
“Ah,” Sean gasped and leaned over. He grimaced in pain and started rolling his shoulders to alleviate it. “That’s gonna bruise.”
“Talk to me when you’re pissing blood on Monday,” Fitz said.
“As I was saying,” Khalif went on, “this man saved my life. In fact, he saved the lives of many young men like me who would have ended up on the streets. Then one day he and the entire academy where we lived was bombed and destroyed. All of my brothers died, as did my teacher.”
Sean nodded as he straightened up. “Okay. That makes sense. You want revenge. I would too. But I’m pretty sure we didn’t bomb your academy or whatever it was, although from the sound of it I’d be inclined to think you were running a terrorist training facility.”
Khalif raised a finger in protest. “You would think that, Agent Wyatt. But that assumption couldn’t be further from the truth. We were a peaceful group. We studied the scriptures and sought peaceful understanding of the universe and our world. You are correct, however, in your statement about the bombing. You three obviously didn’t do it. And America didn’t carry out the attack either.”
Confused, Emily shook her head. “I don’t understand. If you’re not going to attack the United States with all that nerve gas, who are you going to… ” She trailed off as the answer hit her square in the face.
The Americans’ position was looking out to the northeast. Spatial intelligence was one of her assets, and she knew immediately why Khalif had put them where he had, facing that direction.
“You’re going to attack Israel,” she said bluntly.
Sean was a second behind her in putting the puzzle together. He twisted his head back and forth, first at Emily then at Khalif. “Israel bombed your little school?”
“Yes, Agents Starks and Wyatt. Israel was responsible for the attack. They were targeting a facility they believed was a radical Islamist installation. When the bombs hit, I alone survived. By Allah’s blessing alone, I was not in the building. But I was close enough to see the fiery explosion incinerate everything, to see my brothers die in an instant. Now those responsible will pay.”
“Ooooh,” Sean said, elongating the word for effect. “Now I get it. So the Israelis killed your little group by accident, and now to make things right you’re going to murder millions of innocent people who had nothing to do with it. Makes perfect sense.”
Emily fired a warning glance at her partner as if to tell him not to push the guy’s buttons.
“No one is innocent, Agent Wyatt. The Israelis took land that hadn’t belonged to them for two millennia. I’m willing to overlook America’s involvement in that little transaction. But now the time has come to remove them once again.”
Sean’s instincts were to stall, but he wasn’t sure what good that would do. Even if he could manage some kind of superhero escape, kill the bad guys, and escape the mansion, he had no idea where the missiles were. And according to Khalif they were going to launch in six hours. High noon.
“I’m sorry,” Sean said. “I guess I just have one more question. What’s your end game with all this? I mean, are you trying to start a war, or what? You realize you will be hunted down, right? There’s no way you get away with this.” He said the words with conviction, partly to convince himself.
Khalif rolled his shoulders. “Perhaps. Though I suspect I will get away with it. After all, I am very wealthy. I have friends everywhere. Not that it matters. No one would suspect me. I am immune. Especially after I helped the Pakistani government locate a known terrorist within their borders. Now I have two countries in my debt.
“Of course, in the media I will denounce the horrific tragedy that has befallen Israel. I may even offer any assistance to locate the rogue terrorist group responsible. Ironically, it will be American missiles that deliver the deadly payload.”
“Yeah, that much we already know.” Fitz smarted off again, drawing Ahmed’s ire. Lucky for the American, no more blows came his way.
Sean knew they’d stalled about as long as they could. He took a quick inventory of the room. Ahmed and Khalif plus six guards — two behind each prisoner. Eight on three plus six guns for the bad guys, probably seven — judging by the bulge sticking out of the side of Ahmed’s jacket. Not good odds. One thing Sean had learned early on, however, was that inaction could get you killed just as easily as taking action.