Zeb woke up instantly when his phone buzzed.
Eleven pm. Alone in his room where he had been sleeping.
‘Yeah?’ he asked softly recognizing Beth’s number.
‘You’ve got to listen to this.’
A voice came over his phone. Habib Nassour.
‘Golzar, Get back here. From now on, you’ll be staying with me. No, don’t argue. That’s what the boss and I have decided.’
‘Is this related to what happened in that alley? I read reports about it.’
‘Yes, it’s related to that shooting in Fereydoun.’
‘Agha, we need to—’
‘Yes, we need to work out when you’ll be injected with USX-74.’
‘That’s some name, agha.’
‘I know, that’s a mouthful. Let’s call it USX.’
Beth came back. ‘That was—’
‘Nassour and Golzar. Recording of that call.’ Zeb sat up and leaned back against the wall. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Earlier today, before we rescued Arian.’
Zeb clutched his thin blanket around him when the import of USX-74 struck him.
‘You worked out what that name means?
‘That virus? Yeah, the moment we heard it.’
We?
‘It’s an obvious name if you think of it,’ Meghan broke in, confirming that she was on the conference call. ‘United States. 74 for the Fourth of July. We think X stands for destruction or extermination. It makes sense, now, Zeb. Golzar will be the carrier. He’ll go to the States, infect as many as he can. It could be some kind of airborne virus that is hard to detect. One that spreads rapidly and has no vaccine.’
‘They will have one,’ he thought aloud, feeling cold inside. ‘Mostofi will have thought of that. He wouldn’t greenlight a mission unless he and his close people were protected from such a weapon.’
‘Makes sense. This, along with dumping oil in the market…’
‘That’s how they intend to destroy us,’ Beth picked up. ‘We got Werner to work out some projections. If this virus spreads quickly, and we have to assume it will, then the country will go into a lockdown and a recession.’
‘A vaccine takes at least a year to develop. Trials, FDA approvals.’ Meghan’s voice shook. ‘Millions will be dead by then.’
‘Mostofi has always wanted to destroy us,’ Beth said bitterly. ‘Now, he’s got the perfect plan. Did you watch his speech tonight?’
‘Yeah,’ Zeb replied absently. The Quds commander had appeared on a TV channel and launched into a vicious attack on the US and its allies.
‘He’s building up to it. Teasing his people. Promising them glory.’
‘We’ve got to snatch Golzar,’ Meghan said. ‘We’ll squeeze him—’
‘No,’ Zeb interrupted her. ‘We can’t.’
‘What?’ she exclaimed. ‘We have to … oh! I get it. We need to find out about the vaccine before we do anything.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Let’s hope Zarhagi will come through there.’
‘Where’s Nassour?’
‘Back in his residence.’
‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
Zeb sat motionless while the city slept. The earth spun on its axis and went about its revolution. Somewhere, morning had begun. In another part of the world, it was midday. Millions of people going about their day or night, unaware of the looming threat.
A virus does not respect national boundaries. Golzar seeding just a few people would be enough for the infection to spread. To Mexico, Canada, Europe, Asia.
Zeb had faced deadly terrorists. He had gone undercover, without backup, in lethal criminal gangs. He had been at the end of a killer’s gun several times. He hadn’t been scared all those times. He knew what had happened to his family had deadened him to fear.
It returned as he sat in his room. His hands shook as he held them up.
He got out of bed, went to the bathroom and freshened up. Put on his armor, a vest over it, strapped his Glock and zipped up his jacket.
The city was quiet when he stepped out. A passing truck, delivery vehicles, a few cars. The lights of the Grand Bazaar bright, drawing attention.
He went to a chai stand that served night-shift workers and ordered what was fast-becoming his favored drink in the country. Listened idly as a construction worker complained to his friend about how the police had asked for his identity.
‘They are everywhere. I was stopped thrice today.’
‘They are doing their job. All these shootings. There are terrorists in the country.’
‘I thought we were exporting terrorists.’
His friend grabbed him by the sleeve and shushed him urgently. Looked around to see if anyone had heard and dragged the man away.
Zeb didn’t pay them any attention. He dropped his empty glass in the waste bucket and wandered aimlessly, lost in thought, his hands jammed in his pockets.
Forty-five minutes later, he snapped back to reality. The fear had subsided. The beast had taken over, filling him with cold determination.
He wasn’t surprised to find himself on Kasra Street, the lights of Habib Nassour’s residence across from him. He walked down the street, past where he and Broker had parked their van when they had arrived as gas engineers.
He kept his head down as he went past the armed guards.
Many of them, a lot more than when we bluffed our way in last time.
It wouldn’t be easy to take out Golzar at that location. Maybe a missile, but that was almost impossible to acquire with the amount of police and military patrols in the city.
He glanced back at the sentries as he hurried into the darkness.
There could be one way.