Or close: maybe she hadn’t quit. Maybe they had eased her out because she wasn’t strong enough.

“They’re not nearby,” Melissa told her.

Bloom nodded reluctantly.

Melissa scrambled across the hall to a room with a window looking toward the road. There was no one outside.

“Marie, come on!” she yelled. “Let’s get out of here.”

“They’re moving out of the building,” said Nuri. “Shit. Why the hell can’t that bitch just do as she’s told?”

Danny felt a swell of anger—not at Melissa, but at Nuri, for calling her a bitch. “She’s just trying to do her job,” he said tightly.

“Bullshit. Her job was getting Li Han. She’s not even doing that. She’s screwing everything up. Typical Agency prima frickin’ donna.”

Boston reached across from the passenger seat and tapped Danny on the knee. Danny glanced over. Boston had his game face on, a look that said he shouldn’t waste his brain on trivia.

Right as usual, thought Danny.

“Give me directions to Agency officer Ilse,” Danny told MY-PID. “Avoid contact. Avoid the warehouse area.”

“Proceed forward one hundred yards.” MY-PID began a terse set of directions that took them over the old railroad tracks, skirting the warehouse area they’d raided. Then the system had Danny turn right and go up a hill; they passed a run of circular huts, each smaller than the next.

A red ball erupted in the city center.

“Mortars!” said Nuri.

“Colonel, these huts are filled with soldiers,” said Flash. “I just saw two guys in a doorway with guns.”

“Yeah, all right,” said Danny.

A second later something tinged on the fender.

“They’re shooting at us,” Flash said calmly.

Melissa heard the explosions in the distance as she helped the woman and child into the front room.

“Come on,” she said in English, scooping up the little girl. The mother grabbed her arm and together they ran out of the clinic, hurrying across the road into the empty field.

“Stay here,” said Melissa after they had gone about twenty yards. She handed the little girl over to her mother. “Here. OK?” She gestured with her hands. “Here.”

“Stay. Yes,” said the woman.

Melissa raced back across the street. She heard automatic rifle fire not far away.

One of the pregnant women appeared in the doorway, holding her belly. Melissa worried that she was about to give birth.

“Here. Quickly,” said Melissa, grabbing her arm. “Marie? Marie!”

“We’re coming,” said Bloom inside.

Melissa started walking the pregnant woman across the street. The woman was gasping for air, clutching her stomach.

“It’s OK,” said Melissa. “Relax. Relax.” A stupid thing to say, she realized, even under much better circumstances.

She steered her toward the other woman and her child. The tall grass made it harder for the pregnant woman to move; it seemed to take forever to get there.

“We have to go farther back from the road,” said Melissa. “Back in that direction—on the other side of those bushes.” She turned and saw Bloom and the other woman just reaching the field. “Come on,” she said, reaching down and scooping up the little girl. “Let’s go.”

A high-pitched whistle pierced the air. A dull thump followed, and the ground shook with an explosion. The girl screamed in her arms.

“Come on!” yelled Melissa. “Come on. They’re shelling us.”

Danny jerked the wheel hard, trying to stay with the road as it swerved between a pair of native huts. Shells fell fifty or sixty yards to his left, and there was sporadic gunfire from some of the houses nearby.

“We’re about a half mile away,” said Boston calmly. He pointed to Danny’s left. “They’re on the other side of that field.”

“That’s where they’re shelling,” said Nuri behind him.

Danny gave his phone to Boston. “Get Melissa on the line and stay with her,” he told him.

The Osprey was barely five miles away. He could call it in if he needed to.

And what then? He’d have to hit Li Han right away, then go for the Russian.

He didn’t have all his gear yet, and their presence would be obvious. But better to blow their cover and accomplish the mission than keep their cover and fail.

The road bucked with a pair of fresh explosions. The mortar shells were coming closer.

“There’s your turn,” said Boston, pointing ahead.

Danny started to slow.

“Duck!” yelled Boston.

The roof of the Mercedes seemed to explode. Someone was firing at them from the hut near the intersection.

“Shit on this,” said Boston, leaning out the window and returning fire.

Danny swerved hard, fishtailing onto the new road in a hail of gunfire. The car lurched to the right as he pushed hard against the wheel, trying to keep moving in a straight line.

“Our tires are shot out,” he yelled. “Hang on!”

Melissa struggled to keep the pregnant woman moving. The mortar shells were landing harmlessly in a wide, rocky ravine no closer than a hundred yards away. But she knew that at any moment the men firing them would adjust their aim.

Bloom and the woman she was helping caught up.

“There’s another farm there—see the building?” said Bloom, nodding ahead. The building was up a gentle slope about two hundred yards away.

“OK,” said Melissa. It was a destination, at least. She glanced to her right, making sure the woman with the child was coming.

A few seconds later she saw something moving through the field on the left. She thought at first it was an animal, a horse or even a zebra. Then she realized it was men—three of them, rushing down in the direction of the clinic.

Bloom started to yell and wave her hand.

“No, no,” hissed Melissa. “We can’t trust them.”

“They’re with Gerard,” said Bloom. “They’ll help.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t know!”

Melissa grabbed her as she started to wave. But whoever they were, or whatever side they were on, the men didn’t stop, or even seem to notice; they kept running in the direction of the building. The mortars had ceased firing, but there was another ominous sound in the distance—the trucks were returning.

Suddenly, the woman Melissa was helping screamed in agony and stopped moving. She bent her head and shoulders down, caught in the midst of a convulsive contraction.

Melissa dropped to her knee and looked at her face. The woman gasped for air, closed her eyes, then moaned with a fresh contraction.

Less than thirty seconds had passed between them.

“Marie! Marie!” yelled Melissa. “She’s having the baby now! Right here! Help!”

Chapter 11

Washington, D.C.

D.C. traffic was surprisingly light, and Zen managed to make it to the Intelligence Committee meeting a few minutes early. He quickly wished he hadn’t: Senator Uriah Ernst hailed him in the hallway outside the room and immediately began haranguing him.

“What exactly is the administration up to, Zen?” said Ernst. “What the hell is your President doing?”

“Probably nothing good,” laughed Zen.

“Don’t try and snow me. I know you’re on her side these days.”

“I don’t really know what we’re talking about,” said Zen.

“I’ll bet. You’ve never heard of Raven?”

Zen shook his head.

“It’s an assassination program—or so I understand.”

“New one on me.”

“I’m getting to the bottom of this,” said Ernst. He shook his head and went into the hearing room.

Ned Barrington, the committee chairman, met Zen just inside the door. “Got a moment?”

Zen nodded and wheeled himself over to the corner.

“Ernst says the CIA is running an assassination program outside of the oversight procedure,” said Barrington. “He thinks the President set it up to circumvent us and the law.”