“Phhhh, Thorika.” The prisoner tried to spit, but his mouth was so dry he couldn’t even force spittle to his lips. “We fight for the rule of Islam.”

“You’re with the Brothers?” said Nuri, who of course had suspected as much, based on what he knew of Li Han. “Have they stopped backing Thorika?”

The prisoner frowned again, perhaps realizing he had given Nuri more information than he should have.

“I didn’t know the Brotherhood had people this far north,” said Nuri in a reasonable tone. “Why have you come into the territory of your enemies?”

“All Sudan is our territory. We have friends everywhere.”

The kid switched to Arabic as he repeated several slogans popular with the Brothers. Nuri let him talk for a while before finally cutting him off.

“What about the Chinese scientist? Why is he in charge of you?”

“He is not in charge of us.”

The interview continued in that vein for several more minutes. Nuri concluded that the prisoner was older than he looked, but even so probably didn’t have much information that would be immediately useful.

The second prisoner stuck to Arabic, but was more talkative, volunteering that “the Asian” was in the city, though he didn’t know where. He said he was fifteen, and Nuri believed it; he had clearly not been trusted with much information, and didn’t seem to know that much about the UAV.

“They’re the usual teenage riffraff the Brotherhood recruits,” said Melissa derisively outside the tent. “They’re ignorant. They don’t know anything.”

“The first one spoke English pretty well,” said Nuri.

“So? It’s the official language. One of them.”

“The usual slugs don’t speak it as well as he does,” said Nuri.

“Li Han doesn’t speak Arabic, or any of the local languages,” said Melissa. “They needed someone who could communicate with him.”

“If Li Han is so good, why is he working for them?” asked Danny. “Why isn’t he working for Iran or Syria?”

“He has worked for them,” said Melissa. “He’s here because al Qaeda gave the Brotherhood money to hire him. He’s being paid ridiculously well to help them set up communications networks, arrange their computers. Forge networks.”

“Does he work for them, or the Brotherhood?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a difference,” said Nuri.

“The Brotherhood. They contacted him through an intermediary. I’d guess he knows where the money comes from.”

“And where do they get it?” said Nuri. His tone made it clear he was speaking rhetorically. “The big oil states, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, the rest. It’s blood money—we’ll pay you off if you don’t try and overthrow us, or preach too hard in our mosques, or do something else that will upset our business arrangements. Whatever it is Li Han is doing out here, he’s getting a ton of money for it. More than you and I will ever make in a hundred lifetimes.”

“That’s true,” said Melissa. “He’s helping them organize. That’s why it’s important to take him out now.”

“Getting the UAV back is our priority,” said Danny.

“Absolutely,” she said.

“I want access to the file,” said Nuri.

“What’s our next move?” Melissa asked Danny.

“It’s not ‘our’ next move,” said Nuri. “I’m going back to see what’s going on. We’ll take it from there.”

“I’m going in with you.”

“No again,” said Nuri.

“Colonel, this is my mission,” said Melissa. “Raven is in Duka somewhere. I have to find it.”

“This is our mission,” said Danny. “All of ours.”

Nuri tried to suppress his anger. He could tell what Danny was thinking: he saw this as a squabble between two Agency officers, a turf battle. But Nuri knew there was a lot more going on here than they’d been told—he doubted the assassination operation had been authorized, and there was no telling what else was up. Melissa was exactly the sort of gung-ho idiot higher-ups threw into a situation where the Agency didn’t belong.

“I’m going to the clinic with the drugs,” he said. “After that I’ll check with the other group. I’m not convinced that Li Han is still in town, but if he is, I’ll hear about it.”

“I could go to the clinic,” said Melissa. “I’m trained as a nurse. I’ll gather information in the city.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Danny. “Your arm’s in a sling.”

“I don’t need it.” She pulled it out. Pain showed on her face, but she let it dangle. “Raven is mine. It’s my job to find it.”

“We can get the information ourselves.”

“You haven’t done very well at it to this point.”

Danny scowled.

“I’m going,” said Melissa. “I’d be there now if I hadn’t taken a spill.”

Why not let her? thought Nuri. If she was going to be a jackass, why not let her park herself inside the clinic? She’d be out of the way there.

Sure. And then they’d capture her, torture her, and she’d tell them everything she knew about Raven and whatever else she was involved in.

But on the bright side, maybe they’d kill her.

“You can’t stop me,” Melissa insisted to Danny. “This is my mission. My job.”

That was another thing that bothered Nuri—she kept addressing Danny, not him, or at worst both of them.

“They’ll think you’re a spy in the clinic,” said Nuri. “They’ll know you’re American.”

“Of course they’ll know I’m an American. I don’t lie about that. There are a lot of Americans in Sudan.”

“Not a lot,” said Nuri. “And they’re all aid workers.”

“So?” She kept staring at Danny.

“Fine,” said Nuri. “It’s your funeral.”

Chapter 19

CIA Headquarters

Herman Edmund’s schedule was ordinarily too tight for Jonathon Reid to expect an immediate meeting, even on an important matter, and given their conversation the other day, Reid doubted that Edmund would be motivated to make time. So he was surprised when Edmund’s secretary kept him on the telephone when he made the request, and even more surprised to hear the CIA director’s voice rather than hers a few seconds later.

“I was going to call you myself,” Edmund said.

“We need to talk.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Much earlier.”

“We’ll call it an early lunch, then.”

“We should talk in a very secure place,” said Reid.

Edmund hesitated for the slightest of moments before telling Reid that he had exactly the same idea.

They ate in the director’s dining room, only the two of them.

Reid ordered a cup of yogurt.

“You want to talk about Raven,” said Edmund as soon as the attendant left.

“I do.”

“Jon, it’s an unfortunate situation.”

“I think we both know it’s more than that,” said Reid.

Edmund raised an eyebrow. He pushed back in his chair, nearly reaching the wall. Photographs of all the Agency’s past directors hung in a line above their heads; William Casey glared down above Edmund’s.

“I understand that you’ve been making inquiries,” he said.

“I’ve been discreet.”

“As always,” said Edmund.

“You can’t expect me to put the lives of my people on the line without knowing what they’re being risked for.”

“Come on, Jonathon. That’s bullshit and you know it. People do that every day here. You do it, I do it—it’s the nature of the business.”

“The program is illegal, isn’t it?” said Reid. “There’s no executive order authorizing that Li Han be killed. And that’s the mandated procedure.”

“I never discuss specific orders like that.”

Reid was tempted to repeat Edmund’s line about bullshit back at him, but he didn’t.

“The UAV project is probably borderline as well,” Reid said. “But what I’m truly concerned about is Raven itself.”