Rome Street, Newark, New Jersey
Kane had watched keenly out the windows of their van as they left New York City and crossed into New Jersey, hoping his tracker was still functional, these things sometimes failing. He had spotted no obvious security along the way beyond the occasional police officer or cruiser, nothing to suggest a massive deployment preparing to respond to whatever was about to happen.
Which was just what he would expect.
He had no doubt teams were deployed, though they’d be out of sight of any of the routes he would be expected to take, and more than likely, they’d be hidden away in parking structures, away from the prying eyes of the streets, redeploying as destinations were ruled out.
The big question was not where he was going, but what he was going to find when he got there. Both the driver and Nazari had been silent as to their destination and what awaited them. For all he knew, it could just be another hotel room, though when they rolled into an industrial section of town, he started to believe otherwise.
The driver turned off the road, heading directly toward a large, dilapidated warehouse, its massive delivery door rolling up, revealing a dark pit, nothing visible inside. They drove straight in, the driver not hitting the brakes until they had cleared the doors, then jamming them on. Kane heard the doors behind them slam to the ground, the warehouse suddenly flooded with light. He blinked several times before his eyes focused.
“Holy shit!”
He couldn’t help it, and the reaction would be completely in character regardless, anyone, devout nutbar or undercover spy, would be shocked at what they saw. He opened his door and stepped out, his mouth agape. A quick count showed over two dozen vehicles, parked in pairs around the perimeter of the structure, all kinds of makes and models, all large enough to easily seat half a dozen men with equipment.
And there was a lot of equipment, organized on tables at one end. Dozens upon dozens of men were lined up, each being handed a large duffel bag, their names taken and then sent to a numbered vehicle, there already groups of men standing in front of many of the trucks and vans lining the perimeter.
Four men walked up to them, weapons raised, a fifth with an iPad, not bothering to raise his head. “Identify yourselves.”
“Tarek Nazari.”
The man’s fingers flew over the screen and Kane caught a glimpse of a photo of Nazari. The man glanced up. “Welcome to America, my friend. The commander wants to see you right away.” He pointed to a thickly bearded man in the center of the warehouse, surrounded by a gaggle of others who appeared equally devout. Nazari immediately left them, the man with the iPad turning his attention to Kane. “And you are?”
“Bryce Clearwater.”
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly at the English name, entering it on the touchscreen. “Ah, a convert!”
“Yes.”
“Excellent! There is no shame in coming to Allah later in life.” He pointed to the tables. “Get in line, gather your equipment, then report to your assigned vehicle. You’re in number seventeen.” He paused. “Do you speak Arabic?”
Kane shook his head. “I’m learning, but it’s difficult.”
“Not to worry, most everyone here speaks at least some English. Get your equipment and make friends. It’s going to be a busy day.”
Kane smiled, looking about. “It truly does appear that Allah is on our side. It looks like at least a hundred men!”
“One-hundred-thirteen have checked in so far.”
Kane shook his head, his chest tightening as he forced the smile to stay on his face. “Incredible. Are we expecting more?”
“Only a few more. The Caliph decided to have everyone arrive in one day from various destinations around the world. Never did we expect it would work so well.”
No, I don’t think anyone would have thought it would.
“The Caliph is clearly wise. Bringing them in all at once left the Americans with no chance to increase their security if they had caught one of us.”
“Exactly. Allah must indeed be pleased with what we are doing.”
Kane reached into his cuff, pinching off one of the trackers. “We do His prophet’s work.”
The man nodded, looking toward the opening garage door. “America will never be the same when we are done.” He began to walk toward the newly arriving SUV when Kane patted him on the back.
“Good luck, my friend.”
The man glanced back at him with a smile. “And to you, brother.”
Kane headed for the supply line, taking in as much as he could.
And it was overwhelming.
To think over one hundred men were gathered here, determined to destroy America from within, was shocking. What they could possibly need so many men for was what had him curious. His initial thoughts suggested a massive attack on a significant piece of real estate like the White House or Wall Street, but as he eyed the vehicles, he began to question that assumption. If they were going to attack a single target, it would make more sense to use far fewer vehicles, perhaps delivery trucks that might seat a dozen or more men in the back.
But two dozen individual vehicles?
It suggested to him dozens of smaller attacks.
Which would probably be far worse.
He just prayed whoever was watching overhead understood his message delivered by activating the tracker, it clear the vast majority had already arrived.
Attack now!