Pandora's grave

Waiting. The young colonel did not count patience among his virtues. His men were tense, as well, the battalion of Revolutionary Guards at his command. The Kurds should have walked into the trap by now.

That they had not indicated things were not going according to plan. The thought made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Maybe they were watching him…

Harun dismissed the thought angrily, turning his focus back to the task at hand. Fear had no more place in his future than mercy did.

A cold chill seemed to seize hold of him as he remembered his uncle’s words of the previous morning.

“…no true Muslim will stand by and let the desecration go unavenged. The slaughter of peaceful worshipers will bring the condemnation of the world down upon the head of Israel. No one will stand by her side when war comes.”

“And what of us?” he had asked. “What judgment must befall us for the sacrilege?”

He would never forget the light in Shirazi’s eyes as he crossed the room to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Sacrilege?” his uncle asked. “There is no sacrilege in destroying the infidel. Remember the words of the hadith-paradise is found ‘neath the shade of swords.”

So it was, in very truth. Harun stamped his feet in an attempt to restore circulation to his freezing toes, steeling himself against the doubts that plagued his soul.

This was the will of Allah…

3:57 P.M. Eastern Time

Dulles International Airport

Virginia

The call came just as Harry had checked his bags. “Afternoon, Danny. What’s the good word?”

“Not good,” Daniel Lasker replied. “Our back-up team arrived on-site at Richards’ apartment in Falls Church to find Agent Sarami lying near the back of the apartment, knocked unconscious. His gun and satellite phone were both stolen, along with his wallet. We’re doing an inventory on the apartment as we speak, but nothing seems to have been disturbed.”

“Blast it!” Harry exclaimed in frustration, startling the woman in line ahead of him. “I told him to stay put. Any luck running the tags on that Suburban?”

“That’s where it get’s interesting, Harry. We ran it through the Homeland Security intranet, but the Bureau has put a Level-1 Priority block on the tag. Our best guess is that they’re running a big investigation and-”

“Don’t want other agencies stepping on their toes,” Harry finished for him, thinking aloud. If anyone had thought that the bureaucratic infighting would be cleared up by the reorganization following the 9/11 attacks, they should have known better. If anything, things had only gotten worse.

“Does Kranemeyer want me to come back to Langley? I’ve not boarded yet.”

“No. Everything is still go-mission. Contact information for Richards will be uploaded to your TACSAT when you land in Israel. He’s in position.”

“Copy that.”

3:05 A.M. Tehran Time

The Alborz Mountains

Iran

It was cold on the valley floor, the type of cold that makes up in bitterness what it lacks in actual temperature. The two men waited in the shadow of the cliff, out of the sight of any watchers.

“Thanks for coming,” Thomas said after a long moment.

“My sister told me to bring you back alive,” was the reply, Sirvan’s tone filled with amusement.

Thomas flushed, thankful for the darkness to hide his face. He could still see the look in Estere’s eyes as the two of them had left camp-the look of a proud young woman holding her emotions fiercely in check.

The young Kurd cleared his throat. “Time?”

“Five minutes to drop,” Thomas replied, cupping a hand round the luminous dial of his dive watch.

The silence was well-nigh unbearable, just a faint breeze there below the cliff. Thomas found himself holding his breath, waiting senselessly for the sound of airplane engines. They would be flying too high, he knew that. Coming in with their transponder disguised as that of an airliner.

The laser designator was there, fifty meters ahead of them, hidden in the scrub brush of the valley floor.

Waiting.

It came like a ghost out of the night, the parachute a faint shadow in the pale light of the crescent moon.

The two men exchanged a tight-lipped smile before leaving their cover. So far, so good…

4:21 P.M. Eastern Time

Cypress, Virginia

“They’re not leaving,” the man announced grimly, eyeing the old antebellum mansion with binoculars aimed through the tinted windshield of the Suburban.

“You read the audio transcripts, Vic,” his companion retorted. “A security detachment was dispatched twenty minutes after you took out Sarami.”