“What is General Tehrani waiting for?” Lieutenant Saeedi asked while driving their bullet-riddled Range Rover south through Monday morning traffic toward Beirut. He wore a suit and tie, assuming the cover of an Iranian diplomat. Next to him in a diplomatic bag on the seat rested his pistol and ammunition.
General Khan was also dressed as a diplomat and hid his weapon and ammo in a dip bag on his lap. “He says he needs five more days before he has enough rat fleas and MBD21 for the attack.” Three groups were scheduled to infiltrate the United States via ship. They would proceed to the domestic airport terminals in Dallas, Los Angeles, and New York, where they would unleash the fleas on passengers and the terminals. By the time airport officials figured out what had happened, the fleas would already have traveled throughout the country, spreading Black Death and reproducing while Americans helped spread the disease with their coughing and sneezing. Because MBD21 was resistant to antibiotics, no one infected could be saved. The general’s goal was to wipe out half the U.S. population before a cure could be found.
“Dr. Khamenei must’ve already told this Alex bastard about the lab in Venezuela. General Tehrani should stop being so greedy and just launch what he has before we lose another lab.”
“It’s our job to see that he doesn’t succeed in destroying the lab.”
“Let’s just get one thing straight. I don’t give a damn about the lab. I don’t give a damn about General Tehrani. The only thing I give a damn about is slaughtering the pigs who killed Pistachio.”
“This green-face killed my mentor, and my protégé.”
“You never told me that,” Saeedi said.
“I just did.”
“Damn.”
“You lost a friend. I lost more. I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate Alex Brandenburg.”
Lieutenant Saeedi parked in the lot at Beirut International Airport, and the two strolled inside and boarded an Alitalia flight to Rome. In Rome, they transferred planes and flew Alitalia to Simon Bolivar International Airport, near Caracas, Venezuela. Next, they flew thirty-nine minutes to Ciudad Bolivar. From there it was a three-hour charter flight to La Paragua. In La Paragua, Lieutenant Saeedi hired a driver who drove them in his jeep ten kilometers west through a maze of dirt roads until they reached the outer gate of the MBD21 lab. No outsiders were allowed past the gate, so Major Khan paid the driver and stepped out of the jeep. Major Khan and Lieutenant Saeedi walked sluggishly from the gate to the main building. Although they’d slept and eaten as often as they could during their trip from Beirut to La Paragua, both of them were exhausted.