Li Han was not the first man he had killed. But the others had been during battles, and in truth Amara was not even sure that any of them had died—they had been far away, and he’d been either under cover or running. Nor had he known them. Here, Li Han had been right next to him. They had spent several weeks together. Even though Amara suspected from the beginning that he would kill him, even though he had quickly grown to despise the foreigner with his haughty manner, still, Amara had been close enough to him to actually see his face, his eyes, as he died bare inches away.
He had to die. It was God’s will, as the Mentor had explained, and he was preparing to betray the Brotherhood to the Russians. But with all that, with all these good reasons, still Amara felt a tinge of regret and even fear. Twice as he drove he thought Li Han was in the truck beside him; once he even swore for a moment that he was there just before he glanced over.
The seat of course was empty, and he knew for a fact that Li Han was back in the building. But the feeling lingered.
When he reached the highway, Amara flipped the lights on and stepped on the gas, determined to put as many miles between himself and Duka as quickly possible.
He rolled down the windows. The wind rushed into the cab. It filled his lungs with energy and braced his cheeks. He would be in the south very soon. Li Han’s ghost would be left far behind.
Chapter 3
Duka
“Vehicle located,” MY-PID declared.
“Display on a grid map,” commanded Nuri.
The system popped the image onto the control unit screen. Li Han’s pickup was parked outside of a ramshackle house on the western outskirts of town.
“Can you locate the subject?” Nuri asked.
“Subject appears to be in building,” answered the computer, interpreting the infrared heat signature inside. “Certainty is eighty-four percent.”
“How many people are with him?”
“Subject appears alone. No activity.”
“Looks like Li Han found a new place to stay,” Nuri told Danny. “He’s sleeping in a little shack outside the city.”
“Why’d he change location?” Danny asked.
“Don’t know.” Nuri magnified the image, but it was impossible to see inside the building; the thick roof filtered and dulled the IR signal. “When’s the rest of our gear getting here?”
“The MC-17 should check in any minute,” said Danny. “I’ll arrange a drop near here.”
“Good.”
Nuri told MY-PID to examine the house where Li Han had been earlier. Someone was there as well. The computer declared that there was too little data to positively rule out that Li Han wasn’t in that building; only so much could be determined from studying heat signatures. They would have to watch both buildings.
Meanwhile, the bug tracked the Russian as he headed to a ramshackle compound southeast of the city, wedged into a trio of craggy hills. This was the Almighty First Liberation’s “fortress.” MY-PID counted twenty-eight man-sized heat signatures within the various buildings, accounting for the bulk of the rebel force. They were in defensive positions spread out in the rocks, guarding the approaches; clearly they expected retaliation for their leader’s attack.
“Why are the Russians working with these guys?” Danny asked. “I thought Russia wasn’t involved in Africa at all.”
“It’s something new,” answered Melissa from the back.
Nuri tried to keep his teeth from grinding. She was right, but he still resented her, and something compelled him to answer everything she said. “They try to come in every so often.”
“You know this guy?” Danny asked.
“Never even heard of him,” said Nuri. “According to his dossier, he’s been around awhile, was in Iran a while back. This may have been a demotion, or maybe he’s interested in something special. Hard to tell.”
“The computer keeps track of all this?” asked Melissa.
When Nuri didn’t answer, Danny did, which only annoyed Nuri more.
“The system is like having a thousand assistants at your beck and call,” said Danny. “It’s a serious force multiplier.”
“It’s just a computer,” said Nuri. His tone was so harsh that Danny glanced at him.
“Can I interface with it?” asked Melissa.
“You have to be trained,” snapped Nuri.
“It responds to certain voices,” said Danny, still staring at Nuri. “But we all benefit.”
“I’m authorized to terminate Li Han,” said Melissa. “Once we’re sure we have the UAV, we take him down. I don’t think we should wait,” she added, sliding forward and leaning near Danny. “I think we should get it now.”
“We tried that already, and we missed,” said Nuri quickly. “We’re not positive where the UAV is. We can’t afford another miss.”
“Can’t your device figure out where the plane is?”
Melissa said it innocently, but Nuri took it as a challenge.
“It’s not omniscient,” he said. “It needs data. The area wasn’t under surveillance when it went down. We don’t have our sensors in place.”
“I’m for moving sooner rather than later,” said Danny.
“You think we can take over the whole city?” asked Nuri.
“No, but we will have reinforcements soon,” answered Danny. “Enough to deal with the people here. The problem is, if it’s not here, we’re losing a lot of time.”
“If it’s not here, where would it be?” said Nuri. “Anywhere in Africa.”
“True,” said Melissa.
God, thought Nuri, I must be wrong.
With the connection to MY-PID now permanently supplied by the satellite, the Tigershark was no longer needed. Danny released Turk to fly home, which he reluctantly agreed to do.
Meanwhile, Danny located a spot for the Whiplash MC-17 to make an equipment drop. It was an open field about four miles northwest of the city. With the Osprey holding south in case the rest of the team was needed, Danny decided they would go up and meet the newcomers and their supplies, setting up a temporary base there. Driving or even flying back and forth to Ethiopia would take too much time. And ideally, he wanted to close the operation down quickly—as soon as he had a definitive word on where Raven was.
They got to the drop zone five minutes ahead of the aircraft. With Nuri monitoring what was going on in Duka through MY-PID, Danny got out and placed some chem markers in the field. The markers were small sticks that emitted a light visible only through infrared gear. Technically, the Whiplash MC-17 could make the drop without the lights, but Danny liked the extra measure of safety.
Melissa got out of the car with him, walking along as he set out the lights.
“I owe you an apology,” she said after he had finished.
“What’s that?” he asked, surprised.
“I was—I felt that you guys were barging in and trying to take over. I didn’t realize how professional you were, and I acted . . . territorial. Bitchy.”
“Forget it.”
“I am sorry.” She touched his hand and smiled. “I was afraid—this is my operation. You’re trained to not let people in.”
“Sure,” said Danny.
Her hand lingered for just a moment.
“There were a lot of sick people in that clinic,” added Melissa. “They’re pretty desperate for help here.”
“Yeah, I know. We were in a village to the west a few months ago, a couple of villages. It’s a shame. They’re so poor.”
“Do you think—being black . . .”
“Like what? It could have been us?”
“Something like that.”
“No. Not at all.”
They were silent a moment. The wind picked up slightly, softly howling in the distance.
The MC-17.
“Plane’s coming in,” said Danny. “Come stand over here.”
He led her back away from the target area. The Whiplash support aircraft was a specially modified Cargomaster II. Among other things, its engines had been muffled so they were barely audible even at a few thousand feet. Like the extremely capable stock aircraft, the Whiplash version could land on a small, rough airfield; in fact, it probably could have landed in this field, though taking off might have been problematic. There was no need to risk it.