Page 85 of Dead Drift

“But wait,” Kate said. “How would emergency personnel know radiation was part of the equation? Radiation sickness takes time for its effects to become identifiable.”

A frightening thought crossed Luke’s mind. “Maybe this paper was left behind on purpose.”

Declan turned to look at him like he was crazy. “What?”

“If we figure out Bedan is mixing the anthrax with plutonium dust, then we’ll clearly warn emergency personnel.”

“So Bedan is using us to delay a response time and give his anthrax longer to spread and infect,” Declan said with shock resonating in his tone.

Luke exhaled. “I certainly fear that could be the case.”

The sun was midway down in the sky as they approached the third and final warehouse in the district. The first warehouse had been a drug bust, and DEA was now in charge of that raid. The second warehouse was home to a group of hackers. Not the good kind, like Kate, but rather the very dangerous kind—criminals extorting money from people, hacking bank accounts, stealing funds, and inputting viruses into mega corporations for a high fee from their competitors. Kate was currently working in conjunction with the cybersecurity unit of the FBI on that raid.

Vehicles were parked out front at the last possible warehouse, and the last SAT photo they received over Declan’s phone showed three white trucks like the ones Hank had lent out parked by the loading docks.

Hope filled Luke. This might finally be it and, if so, he was uber thankful Kate was surrounded by a unit of federal agents and happily occupied with busting the hackers, because he had zero doubt that if they were in fact at Bedan and Ebeid’s warehouse, the raid would not be without casualties.

Federal Agent Tim Barrows and Declan lay on either side of Luke on the rooftop of the warehouse next to the one in question.

“Well?” Declan said.

“Thermal imaging shows at least a couple dozen warm bodies inside—all near the trucks on the back end of the warehouse.”

Luke stood and moved for the fire escape, which was the fastest route to the ground.

“Hang on,” Declan said. “With anthrax and possible plutonium in there, we can’t enter without hazmat gear. The full team and SWAT are on the way. We just have to wait. They have the gear we need.”

“No time,” Luke said, proceeding to the fire escape.

“What are you doing?”

“Going in.”

Declan shook his head. “It’s not safe.”

Ignoring his friend’s warnings, Luke moved with gun in hand toward the northwest door, where no heat signatures had been detected. It appeared to be the safest way in, though, knowing Ebeid and Bedan, the warehouse was likely rigged with booby traps. Inhaling a strong, steadying breath and puffing it out, he picked the lock and opened the door as a shrill alarm sounded.

They knew he was here.

The alarm screamed overhead. Someone was inside the warehouse with them, and Khaled was certain it was Garrett Beck.

He reached over, grabbed his laptop, and pulled up the security camera feed, only to confirm his suspicions.

It had been almost seven years since he first saw that face—so like his son’s. Young, idyllic, believing in the country he was serving. How futile and pathetic. If Garrett Beck only knew the truth, if only Allah opened his eyes to true understanding and he could see how his country was using him, just like it had used his son, Matthew.

Matthew Ladew was adopted days after his birth and his name changed to Matthew Sullivan. Caroline hadn’t even given Khaled the courtesy of gifting their son with his last name, though considering she’d never bothered to inform him that they’d had a son that wasn’t surprising.

Matthew had grown up to serve as a U.S. Marine and had died shortly after graduating boot camp and being deployed to Afghanistan. Authorities had called it “friendly fire,” but Khaled doubted there was anything friendly about it. In his mind, someone must have discovered Khaled was his biological father and ordered someone to take out his son.

Anger flared through his limbs, searing up through his lungs. He would not allow Garrett Beck or the country that had misused him and his son to stop his retribution. Matthew deserved better. It was why Khaled was in the United States, why he’d chosen Baltimore as his home base. After Caroline had given Matthew up for adoption, he’d been raised in Baltimore before joining the Marines.

Bedan raced around the corner of Khaled’s office, sweat beading his brow. “Someone is here.”

“It’s Garrett Beck.”

Bedan swallowed. “But the shipments. Only one has left. The rest aren’t fully loaded yet.”

“We’ll get them off. Don’t worry.”