10

  London

  Adriana slumped down on the bed in her hotel. It was nearly midnight, and she was exhausted. She still had the smell of smoke on her clothes. She sighed and ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

  She’d spent hours trying to locate the truck, but she may as well have been trying to find a nickel in the Atlantic Ocean. The vehicle was gone, and there was no way she could find it.

  She’d failed. And now there were at least a few dozen dangerous warheads floating around the UK.

  How many innocent lives would be lost because of her incompetence? She retraced everything leading up to her decision to join Shadow Cell. She’d thought she could make a difference, save lives. Now people were going to die because of her. Sure, the terrorists had fewer missiles than they wanted, maybe as little as half. That meant half the targets. As much as she wanted to look at it as a glass-half-full scenario, she couldn’t.

  She laid her head back on the mattress and sighed.

  There was nothing Adriana could do. She’d have to report to June that Asad and his men were dead but the truck’s driver managed to get away with—what had the ship captain called them?

  She propped herself up on the bed and looked over at the gear bag she’d set on the desk in the corner. A second later she was hovering over it, pulling out the device she’d used to record Asad’s conversation. It only took a few seconds to rewind it. As she listened to the recording, she heard what the captain had called the missiles.

  CX270s.

  She flipped open her laptop, and when it connected to the Wi-Fi she entered a search for the same name.

  Images of the long-range weapons appeared on the screen along with several results. She clicked on the first one and started reading.

  The CX270s were long, slender missiles and looked more like air-to-air weapons she’d seen fixed on jet fighters in the past. They weren’t ICBMs, which were much larger and required silos or massive storage facilities. By contrast, the CX270 couldn’t cover thousands of miles, but it could cover hundreds. According to the information on the web page, it worked by detonating over the target and dropping hundreds of smaller, powerful explosives down from above.

  She noticed a video of some test footage and clicked the play button. Her eyes grew wide as she watched the missile launch from a portable unit somewhere in the desert. It soared into the sky and then popped over a small ridge. Dozens of warheads streaked down through the air. A moment later, the mountain exploded in an enormous plume of fire, smoke, and debris.

  “Whoa,” she muttered.

  The guilt in her chest grew.

  Adriana had to find that truck no matter the cost. She’d exhaust every connection she had, scour the earth until she tracked it down.

  A vibrating interrupted her thoughts. It was muffled and low, coming from the other room. She glanced over and remembered she’d left her phone in her jacket pocket.

  The second she picked up the jacket, she realized it wasn’t her phone. It was Youssef’s. She still had it.

  She looked at the number. It was Asad or at least the number he’d used before.

  The call brought a rush of new thoughts to her head. How had he survived the explosion and fire at the docks? She’d seen him a moment before the propane tanks blew.

  The only thing Adriana could figure was that he’d been thrown clear of the fire by the blast. Maybe he dove into the water at the last second. Either way, it was Asad’s phone calling Youssef’s.

  The buzzing stopped. Adriana stared at it for a minute, waiting to see what would happen next. As she expected, the device vibrated once. The screen displayed a new voice mail was waiting for her.

  She hit the listen button on the screen and put the device to her ear.

  It was Asad.

  “I find it troubling that on an evening when you failed to meet at our rendezvous that we came under attack. You and I go back a long ways, Youssef. Because of our friendship and your past loyalty to our cause, I will give you one chance to explain yourself. Meet me at the Imperial in one hour. Otherwise, I will hunt you down and kill you myself.”

  The voice mail ended.

  Adriana looked down at the screen and then set the device on the desk. “So, he is alive,” she said to herself. Under the circumstances, her heart filled with hope again. If Asad was alive, he might have the rest of the missiles.

  The second reason for hope was that Asad apparently believed Youssef was still alive. From the sound of it, Asad must have thought Youssef was responsible for the attack at the shipyard.

  She picked up the phone and stared at it. If she didn’t respond, Asad might get spooked or he might just disappear. She had to keep him on the line. She tapped away at the keyboard and hit send.

  I’ll be there in 45 minutes.

  She set the phone down again and waited to see if he would respond. After a few minutes, she figured no message was coming.

  Adriana slid into the desk chair and entered a search for the Imperial. The results populated on the screen, and she picked the first one. The waypoint appeared on the map along with reviews, directions, and hours.

  The Imperial was a late-night tea and hookah bar, open until 3 o’clock in the morning. She was glad to see it was only about fifteen minutes away.

  That meant she could stake out the place before Asad would be expecting her—or rather, Youssef.

  She stuffed her gear back in the rucksack and slung it over her shoulder. Her fatigue disappeared under a surge of adrenaline. The mission wasn’t over yet. She still had a chance to reel in the missiles and get Asad.

  She’d been lucky.

  Now it was time to make her own luck.

  Adriana rushed out the door and down the elevator.

  She stepped into the lobby and started for the door when she saw two figures coming her way. The men were wearing scarves on their heads and faces, revealing only their dark, sinister eyes.

  “Can I help you?” the concierge asked from behind his desk.

  The man on the right swung his right arm around and pointed a long pistol at the guy. The gunman squeezed the trigger without saying a word. The bullet plowed through the hotel worker’s head.

  Adriana instantly cut to her left and around a corner leading into the first-floor hallway.

  The second gunman raised his weapon and opened fire. Hot rounds crashed into the corner, narrowly missing her head. She didn’t see the drywall exploding behind her as she sprinted down the corridor.

  She didn’t look back until she’d nearly reached the exit. The first gunman appeared and shot again.

  Adriana instinctively dipped her head and barged through the door as a round pierced the glass and sent a spiderweb crack across the panel.

  She ducked around the corner behind a white van and laid in wait, holding her weapon on the hood. She kept her sights trained on the door for several minutes, but no one came through.

  Then she had a terrifying thought.

  She spun around and wiggled through the narrow opening between the hood of the next car and the wall. Crouching between the vehicles, she crept around to the car’s rear and pressed her palms to the wet pavement. Next, she lowered her body so she could see under all the vehicles in the row.

  Adriana watched patiently for a moment. She didn’t have to wait long. Rushed footsteps sounded from around the corner of the building. Whoever was coming was definitely in a hurry, and there was more than one of them.

  Seconds later, two pairs of boots came around the corner. They matched the ones worn by the gunmen. Adriana waited and watched as the two men kept going until they were out in the middle of the parking lot. They slowed to a stop. From the movement of their feet, she could tell they were looking around even though she couldn’t see their faces.

  “Where did she go?” one of them asked in Arabic.

  “I don’t know. I told you it was a stupid idea to try to flank her. Now she’s gone.”

  The initial speaker ignored the barb. “Check down that side street. I’ll run back around front.”

  The second guy didn’t say anything. Instead, he took off running in the direction his partner suggested. The first guy lingered for another few seconds, probably looking around to make extra certain their target wasn’t still there. Then he took off and ran back around the building.

  Adriana slowed her breathing. Her car was across the aisle, two rows over. She had to make a break for it, and there wasn’t going to be a better time.

  She sprang from the damp asphalt and pumped her legs as hard as she could. She kept on her toes to keep silent. The car wasn’t far away, maybe thirty feet. She veered toward it while keeping an eye on the alley where the second gunman had run.

  She already had the key fob in her hand as she turned into the row and ducked down. The lights blinked when she pressed the button. If either gunman were still around, they would have seen the sudden flashing. She slipped into the driver’s seat and revved the engine.

  When she whipped the car out of its space, she checked the rearview mirror and saw the gunman in the alley running back toward her. His body appeared and disappeared as he ran through light and then shadow of the parking garage. His weapon was raised, but she knew he was too far out of range.

  Adriana gunned the throttle. All four tires gripped the wet pavement and yanked the sedan out of the lot just as the gunman unleashed a flurry of shots.

  She looked back as she sped down the street. No one was follo wing her.

  She sighed a quick breath of relief and turned at the next corner, disappearing from the scene.

  There was no time to wonder who those gunmen were or why they were after her. She’d wondered why they’d killed Youssef before, but that question would have to wait. She glanced at the clock on the car’s dashboard. Still plenty of time to find the Imperial.

  Adriana had a date with a terrorist, and she had no intentions of missing it.

  11

  London

  Adriana had been to Soho in London once or twice before. It was a hip area with a wide variety of places to eat or grab a drink. Pubs, pizza shops, tea houses, cafes, and even a few coffee joints lined the streets.

  The Imperial was one of the few that was still open when she arrived.

  Dozens of people loitered around the tea house for a late-night sip. Most of them probably hoped the drink would sober them up after too many hours at the pubs or dance clubs.

  One of the pizza parlors was open as well, probably providing the same sobering hope to several other inebriated patrons.

  Adriana parked her car a block away and out of sight behind one of the many high-end businesses that occupied the district. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention.

  She approached the Imperial from the north and walked down the sidewalk with her jacket pulled up against her face, both to shield her skin from the cold and from view of potential threats.

  As far as she knew, Camir Asad didn’t know who she was. The only way he could have was if he’d seen her at the shipyard. His attention, however, had been focused on the forklift barreling toward him and the boat.

  Adriana forced herself to push away the questions about how he might have survived the explosion. She’d addressed those already. Now it was more curiosity than anything else, and it wasn’t helpful. She had to focus on the present.

  She saw the tea house across the plaza and cut over the street to the opposite sidewalk. The concrete path wrapped around a small square with grass in the center and trees planted at each corner. Four park benches were positioned perfectly on each side at the edge of the grass. It was a place where Londoners took their dogs for a walk after the work day ended.

  A young couple embraced on one of the benches, locked in each other’s gaze. Their breath came out in white puffs of mist in the cold, damp air.

  Down a peripheral street, Adriana noted a silver sedan parked at the back of a restaurant. Her eyes diverted to another one of the inlet streets. She immediately recognized one of the SUVs from the shipyard. It was too difficult to tell, but she thought she could see the outline of a figure in the driver’s seat.

  Was it Asad or maybe one of his men?

  She scanned the area and found another SUV just like it parked deeper in another alley. She couldn’t see into the vehicle due to its position in the dark shadows, but she had a feeling it was similarly occupied. By whom she didn’t know.

  Adriana kept her feet moving. If she stopped, it would look suspicious, and she had the distinct feeling that someone was watching. She glanced up at the buildings to her left and right, hoping to catch a spotter carelessly poking his head out a window. No such luck. All she found were dark windows or ones that were lit but covered with curtains.

  She skirted the little plaza and made her way around to the other side where another couple was in the midst of an awkward late-night goodbye. Adriana figured they were on a date. By the looks of it, the first one. The young, curly-haired man had his hands shoved deep into his pockets and was swinging one leg back and forth as if his mannerisms might somehow make the evening last longer.

  The girl, a cute blonde with long, slender legs squeezed into tight jeans was acting similarly with her hands folded behind her back as she glanced down at the ground and then back up.

  Adriana walked by, tempted to tell the boy to just go ahead and kiss the girl, but she shoved aside the thought and kept moving. It was none of her business. Besides, she had a job to do, and it wasn’t giving dating advice.

  She slowed down as she neared the entrance to the Imperial and looked over the sparse collection of patrons sitting on the patio under a striped awning. People were laughing, making jokes, and telling stories.

  There was no sign of Asad.

  Adriana knew it wouldn’t be that easy. If he wasn’t in one of the cars or on the patio—as she’d already determined to be the case—then he would be inside. The guy’s message hadn’t been specific about where to meet at the tea house. She wondered if the vagueness was deliberate—a way to set up Youssef. For what she wasn’t sure. It was too crowded for an abduction, even though the place was clearly winding down for the night. If Asad wanted to take out his ally, there would be too many witnesses, unless his plan was simply to eliminate everyone.

  The last thought sent a chill through Adriana’s spine. Extremists didn’t have an issue with killing innocent civilians. That meant everyone at the Imperial could be a target.

  She turned left and pushed her way through the heavy forest-green door. Inside, the place held a scattered collection of people much like she’d seen on the patio. It was far from full, but nowhere near empty. Pungent floral and citrus aromas filled her nostrils.

  Adriana slowly made her way toward the counter to put in an order, not because she was thirsty for tea but because she had to look like an ordinary customer. If Asad or any of his men were there and noticed her loitering without purpose, they could be spooked and decide to leave.

  As she meandered toward the counter, she panned the room, taking note of all the faces. There, in the far corner nearest a giant window, was Asad.

  He was staring out the giant glass pane as if watching the streets beyond, observing every detail and person. That meant he’d probably seen her. The fact she was still standing unmolested in the line to order was a good sign. He hadn’t recognized her, at least that’s what she hoped.

  Asad appeared to pay her no mind, which was fine with Adriana.

  She stepped to the counter and ordered a cup of Earl Grey. Then she moved to the side and waited patiently, doing her best not to look back directly at Asad. She couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at her. Adriana locked in her gaze on the chalkboard behind the counter. It featured the full menu of various teas the Imperial offered as well as traditional English snacks. The cucumber sandwiches caused her stomach to grumble. She’d forgotten to eat anything since lunch, and now wasn’t the best time.

  A young girl with a swallow tattoo on her neck and a ring through her nose passed the steaming hot cup over the counter. Adriana graciously took the bottom of the saucer with one hand while holding the cup with the other and made her way over to a table along the wall where she could keep an eye on Asad from an angle.

  She also made sure not to sit next to a window. If there was one thing she’d learned long ago, it was to avoid windows. No reason to give an enemy an easy target. She eased into the chair and slid her tea close to the wall. She leaned against the wall with her left shoulder as she took a sip of the hot liquid.

  Asad turned his head and glanced at her, but he wasn’t just looking at Adriana. He was checking out the entire room, eyeing every face exactly as she’d done upon entering. He seemed to pay no attention to her and went back to staring out the large window.

  Adriana exhaled. She didn’t realize she’d caught her breath in the moment Asad was looking her way.

  She sipped the tea and waited to see what he would do. From her brief reconnaissance of the streets and plaza outside, there were only a couple of points she considered to be threats. The two SUVs certainly were. There was no way to know how many men were inside each. Then there were the windows, but that was something she couldn’t do anything about. If there was a sniper waiting up in one of the buildings and she made a play for Asad, the shooter would cut her down with ease.

  No sense in worrying about things she couldn’t change.

  She checked her watch and noted it was a quarter ’til. Fifteen minutes until Youssef was supposed to meet Asad; only he didn’t know Youssef wouldn’t be coming. As if right on cue, Asad stole a short glance at his phone. Adriana could tell the man was getting more frustrated by the minute. She kept her gaze toward the entrance since it afforded her the ability to both watch her target and make sure no one burst through to cause trouble.

 

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