AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why not? He was a noted Imam from a family with a long history of piracy. Even if one of his ancestors wasn’t part of the attack on the Templar ship, it’s still possible the jewel was given to them as a tribute.”
“Gentlemen, let’s get back on course,” Max suggested. “At this stage in the game, it doesn’t really matter what the jewel is, or even where it is. Our focus should be on saving the Secretary and stopping Al-Jama’s attack.”
“Max, you said something about how the Libyans are claiming our old buddy at the harbor, Tariq Assad, is Al-Jama.”
“Obviously, a smoke screen, if we’re right.”
“Has Eddie reported anything that makes you think Assad’s involved with Al-Jama’s faction?”
“No, but this morning they noted Assad’s house and his office are surrounded by covert agents. The Libyans are making good on their promise to nab him.”
“And when the dust settles, they’ll have their scapegoat,” Eric remarked. “They’ll put on a quick show trial and execute him for the attack.”
“The Libyans have to be targeting him for a reason. There must be something to this guy, right? Max, get on the horn and tell Eddie to pick up Assad. We need to question him.”
Cabrillo studied Mark Murphy for a moment. Murph’s jaw was blurred with stubble, and he slouched in his chair as if he were melted into it, but his eyes were still bright. In the past few months, after a lot of ribbing from the crew, he had embarked on the first exercise program of his life. He’d been through a lot in the past forty-eight hours, yet Juan suspected he was ready for more. “You up for another op?”
“I still want that shower first, but yeah.”
“I want you and Eric over the border into Tunisia to find Al-Jama’s tomb.” Cabrillo didn’t like losing his best helmsman at a time like this, but Murph and Stone worked together on such a deep, intuitive level that he felt it necessary to send both.
“Better take along a couple of gundogs,” Max suggested. “Don’t forget the tangos kidnapped the fourth member of Alana Shepard’s team.”
“Bumford,” Mark said. “Emile Bumford. Linda and Linc say he’s a tool.”
“Just so you know what you’re up against,” Hanley continued, “the other archaeologists report that there were at least a dozen terrorists who snatched him.”
“Gomez can chopper you over and be back in a couple of hours.”
“We still have fuel left in the cache we set up in the desert when we first talked to Bumford.”
“Good. I want you guys in the air in two hours. For now, all I want you to do is find the tomb. If they’ve beaten you there, stick close and watch. No matter what, don’t engage them. Greg Chaffee’s volunteered to fully debrief the prisoners, but from what I’ve been able to gather from them so far Al-Jama wants that tomb as badly as we do. His entire operation out in the desert was an attempt to find it. Be ready for anything.”
“Ready is my middle name.”
“Herbert’s your middle name,” Eric teased.
“It’s better than Boniface.”
Cabrillo’s phone rang. It was the duty officer in the op center. “Chairman, I thought you’d want to know, radar picked up a low-flying aircraft parallel to the coast near the approximate position of the terrorist training camp.”
“Could you track it?”
“Not really. It popped up only for a second and then vanished again. My guess is it’s flying at wave-top height.”
“Did you get its speed or bearing?”
“Nothing. Just the blip, and then it was gone.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He set the Bakelite handset back on its cradle. “Al-Jama’s men are bugging out.”
Max glanced at his watch. “Didn’t take them long.”
“I’d like to think our little fracas pushed their deadline,” Juan said, “but I doubt that’s the case.” He went quiet for a moment. “What the hell were they doing near the coast?”
“Hmm?”
“The chopper. Why risk getting close to the coast where they could be spotted? Eric’s right. They should stick to the empty desert. Max, I want you to do a search on Libya’s naval forces. I want to know where every ship capable of landing a helicopter is right now.”
