* * *
‘Prep him and move him out!’ Gray shouted.
After a quick body search, tape was put over al-Hussain’s mouth and two men grabbed a leg each, while another two took hold of his arms. Ignoring his muffled screams, they carried him up a small hill, then double-timed it to the RV point two kilometres away, where they’d left their motorbikes.
The men carrying al-Hussain dumped him on the floor and took a well-earned breather. Gray and Balmer dragged the prisoner to a rock and leaned him against it, then Gray ripped the tape from his mouth, taking large strands of his beard with it.
‘You should kill me now,’ al-Hussain managed to mumble through gritted teeth. ‘You could keep me for thirty years in your prison and I will never talk.’
‘You’ll talk,’ Balmer said, standing over him. ‘As for prison, you won’t be seeing one. You’re going to die right here, on this spot.’
‘Then I have no reason to tell you anything. My fate is already sealed.’
‘Not quite… you still get to decide which body parts you take with you.’
Al-Hussain remained defiant. ‘You can do what you like to this body. My spirit will remain whole.’
‘I intend to break that, too,’ Gray told him. ‘Your men ambushed a patrol near Ghorak three weeks ago. Two of my men were killed, two are missing. Where are they?’
‘What do you think? Having tea with my sisters?’
‘I know they’re dead,’ Gray growled. ‘I just want their bodies.’
Al-Hussain tried to shrug, but the action made him wince. ‘I don’t know where they are. They were the spoils of war. You would have to ask my men.’
‘Then tell me where your men are.’
‘Dead,’ al-Hussain said. ‘They died a few days ago, at your base called Vincent.’
‘I told you this was a waste of time,’ Balmer said. ‘We all know what these guys do to the people they capture. Let’s just do the same to him and go home.’
‘Yes, listen to your big friend,’ al-Hussain told Gray. ‘Finish me. But know this: a storm is coming, the likes of which you’ve never seen. In the next few weeks ten thousand of the finest warriors you can imagine will descend on your bases, and you will be powerless to stop them.’
Despite being moments from a grisly death, Abdul al-Hussain wore the grin of a victor.
Gray was more than happy to wipe it from his face.
‘Sorry to piss on your bonfire, Abdul, but Dagher played you. She works for the CIA.’
Al-Hussain was momentarily stunned by the revelation, but he soon recognised it as a taunting ploy to spoil his last moments on earth. ‘That is a lie. I saw the effect it had on a nobody, a skittish boy. It transformed him.’
‘Yeah, we saw it, too,’ Gray said. ‘The ones we came up against fought really well, didn’t they, John?’
Balmer nodded. ‘Toughest fights I’ve ever had,’ he agreed.
‘Only, it doesn’t last very long,’ Gray added.
‘She told me it would last a lifetime,’ al-Hussain said.
‘A lifetime? Well, she was right about that. We had a little chat with her after we picked her up… and she told us everything.’
* * *
Miriam Dagher looked like she was about to lose it. She swallowed a ball of mucus and fought to catch her breath, unable to wipe her face because of the plastic cuffs binding her wrists behind her back.
‘Come on lady, we haven’t got all day. Ten seconds, then it’s adios.’
‘Yeah,’ Balmer added. ‘Tell us why you created this virus to help the Taliban, otherwise we’re gonna throw you out and leave you for the buzzards.’
‘I didn’t,’ Miriam finally managed. ‘It was created to be used against them.’
The two soldiers looked at each other, then Gray spoke. ‘I saw the news reports. You were developing something to do with childbirth.’
‘That was the cover story they fabricated,’ Miriam told him, her head dropping.
‘Fabricated? And who’s they?’
‘They are the CIA.’
Another glance was shared between the two men. ‘Then you’d better tell us the whole story, because this little venture cost the lives of some good men, and many of them were our friends.’
Miriam took a deep breath and then exhaled it really slowly. ‘Okay, but you have to swear not to share this with anyone, not even family. It could cost you your lives.’
‘Just tell us,’ Gray growled.
Miriam tried to compose herself. ‘What I’m about to tell you could cost me dearly,’ she said. ‘I was approached two years ago in a coffee shop in Washington. His name was Henry McCall, and he told me he’d seen my research papers on the virus I’d worked on… the one to help alleviate pain during childbirth. I explained that it had been shelved due to negative side effects, but he said he still wanted to have a chat with me about it. He gave me a card and told me to call him. The address on it was Langley.
‘I gave it a couple of days, wondering what he could possibly want with me. But eventually I called him. He arranged a car to pick me up and drive me to Virginia, but I said I would have to clear it with my boss. He said there was no need; time off had already been arranged. Minutes later I received an email from Professor James at the university where I worked, telling me I’d been granted a few days’ leave. The car picked me up from my home an hour later. It was the first and only time I visited CIA headquarters. McCall took me to his office and sat me down, then asked about the virus. I told him it was a dead project. It produced the results we were looking for — in mice, at least — but the side effects couldn’t be overcome. That’s when he said it was those side effects that he was interested in. He wanted to know what they were and if they could be… enhanced.’
Gray stared at her. He was tempted to interrupt, but didn’t want to disturb her flow.
‘I told him what the issue was. In small enough doses, it provides the instant pain relief we were hoping for, along with heightened senses and cognitive enhancements, but the virus has an incubation period of about six to seven weeks. That’s when the trouble starts. Once that incubation period has ended there is a rapid expansion of the viral cells throughout the body until there are enough to stimulate the constant release of norepinephrine. This causes acute hypertension, rapid heartbeat, chest pains, nausea, dizziness and headaches. This isn’t fatal in itself as norepinephrine is normally broken down by the enzyme Monoamine oxidase, which is found bound to the outer membrane of mitochondria in most cell types in the body–‘
‘Enough with the science lesson,’ Gray said. ‘What does it all mean?’.
Dagher nodded quickly. ‘Sorry. The result is a heart rate that leaps into the 300s, and as the heart doesn’t have time to fill before it pumps, blood flow around the body is severely compromised. Within minutes, the brain is starved of oxygen and the victim suffers brain hypoxia, rendering them unconscious. If anyone manages to get to a competent medical facility within a few hours, they’ll be likely to live out the rest of their lives drooling into their soup. The fortunate ones will die as the brain shuts down and bodily functions quit.’
‘So…whoever is injected with this stuff is gonna die within two months?’
‘That’s right. I gave al-Hussain a couple of demonstrations and he was so pleased he demanded enough for ten thousand subjects.’ Miriam looked down at her hands. ‘When the idea was sold to me, I thought about the deaths that would occur as a result of my actions. I voiced my concerns to McCall. He told me that the Taliban would be defeated one way or another. This was an opportunity to end the war before more coalition forces were killed. I didn’t once think that our own people would be hurt, too. The men who escorted me from the airport… I was told that they would surrender and let them take me. I never imagined they’d risk their lives to protect me.’
‘That’s what private security teams do,’ Gray said. ‘No-one’s gonna pay a grand a day for someone who’ll put their hands up when things turn shit
ty. Their job is to keep you safe.’
‘And if they were paid to protect you and then told to give you up at the first sign of trouble, that would raise questions,’ Balmer added. ‘My guess is, they weren’t given those instructions.’
‘Believe me,’ Miriam told them, ‘I didn’t want it to happen that way. My job was to get some of the virus to al-Hussain, give him a demonstration, then manufacture as much as I could over the next four weeks.’
‘Then what?’ Balmer asked.
‘Then? Activate the tracker that was implanted in my body so that you could rescue me.’
‘That’s how they knew where to find her,’ Gray told Balmer.
‘And now we know why they didn’t want us talking to her.’
‘Remember,’ Miriam said, looking at all four of the soldiers around her, ‘you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. If this gets out, the CIA will come looking for loose threads. That’s from McCall’s mouth.’
‘So, what’s your plan?’ Gray asked. ‘It’s not like you can just go back to work and forget the whole thing ever happened. Your photo has been all over the TV and newspapers. Someone will recognise you.’
‘That’s been taken care of. As I said, I met McCall two years ago. And within that time they’ve done a lot to prepare for my return. Any photos of me before 2002 have been destroyed, including the ones for my driver’s licence, social security and passports. I gained about ninety pounds to do this, and I’m going to take a year out to shed the weight again. After that, a little plastic surgery—nothing too extensive, just a little reshaping of the face—and I’ll have a new ID set up and ready to use. I’ll be working for the CIA from now on, in some Midwest backwater.’
‘And if someone does recognise you?’
‘It’s unlikely,’ Miriam told Balmer. ‘News will leak that I took my own life while in custody, and that’ll be the end of the matter. In a year or so, with my new look, no-one will give me a second glance.’
‘If you make it that far,’ Balmer said. ‘Knowing the CIA, they’ll make you disappear permanently. Loose ends well and truly tied.’
Miriam suddenly looked panicked. ‘McCall had played heavily on my patriotism, telling me how I’d be doing my country a great service. I never once considered the possibility that they’d find me a liability once the mission was complete.’ She managed to rub her cheek on her shoulder to wipe away a few tears. ‘I never wanted to take on the mission. I told them I wasn’t the right material. But McCall insisted that I was perfect for the role. I was single, no kids, the right ethnic background. And I’d worked on the virus from the beginning. There was simply no-one else capable of doing the job. It had been carrot and stick from then on. Without me, hundreds—maybe thousands—of Americans would lose their lives in a war that I could have cut short. In return, I would be looked after financially for the rest of my life.’
‘Sergeant,’ the crew chief said to Gray, ‘Captain Russell will meet you when we land. We’re four minutes out.’
Gray acknowledged him curtly, then turned back to Dagher. ‘I kinda wish you hadn’t told me,’ he said.
‘What?’ Lomax snapped. ‘You didn’t wanna know who was responsible for Josh’s death? For all their deaths? I’m sure as hell glad she told us.’
‘And what are you gonna do about it?’ Smart asked him. ‘Confront Durden? And say what? We disobeyed orders and forced her to tell us everything? At best we’d be kicked out of the army. Worst case, they consider us a threat to national security—and we both know that wouldn’t end well.’
‘He’s got a point,’ Balmer said. ‘Each time I meet Durden I’ll have to pretend I don’t know anything, even though he sent us out there knowing the threat against us was made in the US of A.’
‘Agreed,’ Gray said. ‘This conversation never took place.’
His words seemed to lift an immediate weight from Dagher’s shoulders, but Gray doubted she’d ever get over the loss of life. McCall had probably tried to rationalise it, telling her that people died every day in war. She might be taking lives to save others, but that didn’t mean she’d sleep well at night.
Lights from the base twinkled as they flew over it.
‘I’m sorry for the loss of your friends,’ Dagher said. ‘If I could have done it any other way, believe me, I would have.’
‘You could have altered the virus so that it killed them within a week,’ Balmer replied.
‘True, but then I would have been able to administer it to just a handful of people, and al-Hussain would have killed me. We would have achieved nothing. As it stands, the Taliban will be decimated in the next few weeks. By the time they realise what's going on, it'll be too late to do anything about it.’
‘Won't it raise questions when thousands of men suddenly die from the same symptoms?’
‘I asked McCall the same thing… he assured me that it wouldn't be an issue. He said it would be put down to being manufactured in crude conditions, and as I'll have been pronounced dead by that time, I can't be questioned about it.’
* * *
Al-Hussain’s mask slipped a little. ‘Lies! Desperate lies because you know you have lost!’
‘Far from it,’ Gray told him. ‘You’ve handed us victory on a plate. The first of your men should have their heart attacks in the next few days. I just wish you could be around to see it.’
‘I refuse to believe it!’
‘Refuse all you want… makes no difference to me. But you might want to ask yourself how we managed to find Dagher.’
‘Someone betrayed me,’ al-Hussain said.
‘Wrong again. She had a tracker sewn into her body. She was just waiting for the right time to activate it—and that was when she’d made enough of the virus to kill the next generation of Taliban. Your men will be administering it as we speak.’
Gray watched al-Hussain’s demeanour change completely. The arrogance was gone, and he looked like a broken man. Gray almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
This man was responsible for the deaths of his friends, and a lot more people besides.
‘Fetch the tool kit,’ Gray told Balmer.
As the American walked off to get the instruments of al-Hussain’s death, Gray knelt down next to the warlord.
‘When you get to Heaven, tell Allah that he’s gonna need a lot more virgins, because it’s gonna get busy up there.’
Chapter 32
They flew back to the base in silence, each consumed with their own thoughts. Gray suspected that, like himself, none felt any remorse over the grizzly demise of the Taliban warlord. Al-Hussain was an enemy combatant, plain and simple—and Gray was trained to kill them. That al-Hussain had been captured and was injured made no difference. International law stated that his wounds should have been treated before he was transported to a prison, but as far as Gray was concerned, he would only obey such rules when the other side did.
He tried to turn his thoughts to happier subjects, but couldn’t shake the image of Josh Miller’s face. Death was part and parcel of the job, and no member of the SAS feared it. Though that didn’t make it any easier when a friend was taken too soon. It was Josh’s wife that he felt for most, and that in turn led him to considering his own situation.
Soldiering was everything to Tom Gray. He’d spent his entire adult life—twelve years—in uniform, and though he had a plan for when he left the SAS, he wasn’t at a point where he was counting down the days. Transitioning to civilian life would be a big step, as it was for many career soldiers. It would help to have someone like Dina by his side.
The pilot announced two minutes to touchdown, and the men in the cabin readied their gear.
‘Food, shower, bed, in that order,’ Sonny said to no-one in particular.
‘Sounds like a plan, Tiny,’ Balmer laughed.
‘Normally I’d agree,’ Gray said, ‘but I want to see Durden. We’ve still got to deal with Sentinel, and I want to do it before he gets wind of al-Hussain’s death and bolts.
’
‘Count me in,’ the American said. ‘Food can wait.’
The moment the chopper hit the ground Gray and Balmer handed off their kit and made their way to Durden’s office. They caught him just as he was about to leave for the day.
‘Gentlemen, I heard you got him.’
‘Yeah,’ Gray said, ‘but he didn’t make it. Took a couple of rounds in the firefight. We tried patching him up, but he’d lost too much blood. We buried him in the desert.’
It was a lie they’d come up with while waiting for their transport home, and both teams were comfortable with it. The truth was they’d left him where he lay, knowing the carrion birds would pick his bones clean within hours.
Durden looked at both men in turn, then nodded his acceptance of their story.
‘Pity. He would have had some useful information.’
‘Didn’t strike me as the talkative kind,’ Balmer said.
Sure could scream, though, Gray thought to himself. ‘Now that he's gone, we want Sentinel,’ he said to Durden.
‘I already have a plan for him,’ Durden said.
Gray couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maybe it was the fatigue, or the wearing off of adrenaline after the fight, but he had a firm desire to rip Durden’s head off. ‘You said he was ours,’ he growled. ‘That was the deal.’
Durden smiled, the first time Gray had ever seen him do so. ‘I think you'll like what I have in mind.’
* * *
After a quick visit to see Captain Russell for a debrief, Gray’s next stop was the DFAC. His team had been making up for two days with just dry rations, the empty plates on the table having been licked clean. Gray helped himself to a large serving of cottage pie and chips before joining them.
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