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Sloane knew what Kimball was asking. Higher up on the food chain could include heads of state and five-star generals. Kimball would only have to break one of them to get the answers he needed. And Sloane knew from experience that Kimball was very efficient at getting information.
“Do what you have to do,” Sloane finally said. “I’ll clear any paths for you if you need me to. There are a lot of people who owe me favors. They’ll keep quiet and should cooperate.”
Kimball nodded and left. Sloane took another sip of coffee and looked at the photos of Jack Donovan and his companion. Frank Bennett hadn’t been a stupid man. He’d only send sensitive information to the person he trusted the most. Sloane just had to find out who that person was.
“Peters,” he called out.
“Yes, sir?”
“Cancel all my meetings. I need to work from home this morning.”
“Anything else, sir?”
“Get the president on the phone.”
ChapterEight
Kuwait
“My contact knows me as Amir Shahzad,” Gabe said as he loaded a large black case in the back of the Jeep. He covered it with a tarp and got behind the wheel. Grace finished loading bottles of water under the seats and slid in beside him. Her hair was covered with a long black scarf—ahijab—and she wore a loose white shirt, khaki cargo pants, and lightweight boots that were made for traveling over sandy terrain.
“Do you trust him?”
“My contact? Absolutely not. He’s a merchant in the city and is bought easily enough. Our arrangement has worked out so far, but he’s a businessman.”
Gabe slipped sunglasses over his dark brown eyes. Between the contacts and his beard, he was pretty uncomfortable. Like Grace, he wore desert-colored cargos and a white linen shirt. He was grateful for the loose black turban that hung over his head and protected him from the blistering sun that shone like a ball of flame in the cloudless blue sky. It was going to get a lot hotter before they got where they were going.
Gabe put the Jeep in drive and they left Kuwait with minimal fuss, heading across the border with the fake IDs that had served him well during his days with the CIA. “We’ll be given shelter for the night once we arrive in Abadan, and then we’ll leave to find Tussad once the city sleeps. They have imposed curfews because of the bombings, so we shouldn’t have to wait too long.”
“Won’t your contact find it strange you’re bringing a woman with you?”
“Not necessarily.” Gabe felt her stare, but he kept his eyes on the treacherous road as they bumped their way over the mountains and closer to the city. They still had another four hours to travel by car before they reached the entrance to Abadan. If he was a weaker man, he would have blushed under her gaze. He knew that look better than anyone. And he knew it meant trouble.
“So he’s used to you bringing women with you when you visit?” she asked, her voice calm even as her eyes spit green fire.
“It helped with my cover. It’s been three years since I last saw him.”
“You mean you were bringing strange women with you here while we were still married?”
“I told you it was part of the cover,” he said. “It’s not like I slept with any of them. Believe me, I’ve never for one second forgotten that you are my wife.”
“Iwasyour wife,” she said.
Gabe didn’t bother to correct her. It probably wasn’t a good time to mention he’d never signed the divorce papers. As soon as they’d been delivered, he’d promptly shredded them and gotten rip-roaringly drunk. It hadn’t been one of his finer moments. But he was still married in the eyes of the law, and that’s all that mattered.
The sun was quickly fading, and its heat pulsed in waves of bright orange off the sand, making the tiny grains shimmer like glass and the barren land before them waver like a picture going in and out of focus. They were fortunate the scorching days were tempered by cool nights, and that they’d brought plenty of water. The desert wasn’t forgiving to those who weren’t prepared.
The rest of the drive was made in silence as they traveled farther and farther into hostile territory—both of them had their pistols ready on their laps. When the transition from day to night passed, they both pulled on their night-vision gear, their attention never wavering from the numerous hiding places the mountains provided.
“I’ve got something,” Grace said. “Two o’clock, about a hundred and fifty yards ahead.”
“I see him. That could be Kareem. He’s a little heavier than the last time I saw him, but the posture is right.”
“I don’t like this, Gabe. There are too many good places to hide in these mountains. We might as well have targets on our foreheads.”
“Where would you go if you were going to pick us off?” Gabe asked.
Grace looked her options over and pointed to the left. “Up that steep ridge there. I’d have visibility of anyone coming or going through the pass.”
