61

Tariq lounged in his father’s chair as if he had no concerns in the world. But he did. Ring of Fire was turning into a debacle, and as much as his father talked about heritage and history, he knew that their bottom line stopped right here in the present. Despite the barking about Islam and the selfless nature of the fight, at the end of the day only one thing mattered: Could anyone prove their company had a hand in something heinous?

And it was looking more and more like they could.

He saw the door swing open and his father enter the room. Tariq stood, sweat building under his armpits. He knew his father had heard about the fiasco in Fez. It had actually made international news. A sleeper cell that had escaped the authorities. There was a manhunt going on for the very men he was going to use, and the only thing that helped was that the names the authorities knew were not the identities the men were traveling under.

His father walked behind his desk and fell heavily into his chair, saying nothing. He rubbed his forehead, then looked up, asking, “Are we done?”

“Do you mean us, as in me and you, or the mission?”

His father leaned forward and said, “I mean Ring of Fire. Why on earth would I feel threatened?”

“Ring of Fire is progressing. Yes, they were found out in Fez—”

His father cut him off. “Why should I feel threatened? Is there a reason you parsed my question?”

“No, Father, I just misunderstood, but there is no reason to worry. We are completely dislocated from any actions involving the cell. Different countries, different heritage, different everything. Jalal is the only one who’s ever even met me, and he doesn’t know my real name. Only that I’m Saudi Arabian and rich. He certainly doesn’t know you. Even if they catch him, he can’t say anything that could harm us.”

“Yet we thought the same thing about the cell. They were supposed to be invisible, with nobody looking for them, much less finding them. How did that happen?”

“I don’t know, but the DGST is vicious, and they are everywhere. Maybe one of the cousins said something suspicious to an informant, and they were just going to be questioned. Maybe they panicked, leading to the shootout. Either way, they got out of the country.”

“You don’t fear them getting caught in Rome?”

“No. I think the entire event in Fez was a fluke. I truly do. As I said, the authorities are looking for Moroccan citizens with Moroccan names, and our men are traveling as Saudi Arabians, with preapproved tourist visas for the United States.”

Yousef leaned back, staring at the ceiling. After a moment, he said, “Okay, okay, we’ll continue. How soon before they attack?”

“A few days at least. They first have to get to the safe house I rented, then we need to ship them their vehicles, but it will work.”

“You lost a man in Fez. Will two be enough to accomplish the mission?”

“Yes. Jalal says it will.”

Yousef reached into a briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He said, “The container from Algeciras is across the Panama isthmus.” He slid the top paper across and said, “It’ll be in the port of Los Angeles in two days. That’s the new ship.”

“Excellent. I’ll inform Anwar.”

“He’s still in Los Angeles?”

“Yes. He’s growing impatient because I told him to keep his movements low.”

Yousef pushed another sheet of paper across the desk and said, “I want you to travel to the United States tonight. I’ve already purchased your tickets. Go to Norfolk and retrieve the explosives that were going to be used in the third vehicle, then give them to Anwar. Have him construct another one of his flying bombs.”

Tariq studied the sheet, then looked up at his father in surprise. He said, “What is this?”

“The final target. The one we missed fifteen years ago.”