65

An hour later they were circling the city of Algeciras, Retro in the back working the technical kit for a pinpoint of the targeted phone. He said, “Got it. It’s active.”

The Taskforce information had placed the targeted handset in the cell network of Algeciras, but that was obviously too broad a target set to be of much use, so it was up to Retro to try to trick the handset into thinking their aircraft was a cell tower, then implant malware into the operating system of the phone that would allow him to manipulate its embedded GPS function.

Pike said, “Can you penetrate?”

If he couldn’t, they’d have to locate the phone the old-fashioned way—by triangulating its signal, a technique that had been used against radio networks since World War II.

Retro said, “I think so. I’m talking to it now.”

Five minutes later, he said, “It’s in. I’m releasing the phone back to the network. I’ve got it slaved.”

Pike directed the pilot to continue to the Jerez Airport, the closest commercial strip to the city, and Retro came forward carrying a laptop and what looked like a thick smartphone.

He set the laptop on the table and manipulated a mapping function, zooming in on a blue dot. He said, “According to Taskforce mapping data, it’s sitting in a mosque right now.”

Carly said, “That’s good news. At least we know he’s Muslim. How are we going to figure out if he’s Moroccan, though? That could take some work.”

Pike and Knuckles grinned, and she said, “What’s so funny?”

Pike said, “If he looks Moroccan, we’re taking him.”

“But Kurt said . . .”

“Kurt knows what we’re doing. Knuckles will make the call, but we’re not going to spend five days developing this guy.”

She glanced at Jennifer but said nothing else. Knuckles studied the map, saying, “How am I going to pinpoint his phone? There could be a hundred people inside praying.”

Retro passed across the smartphone. “This is now slaved to his handset, so you can follow the marble until you sort out who has it. Let him go somewhere else, then take a snapshot of the people. Do that a few times, and you’ll figure out who he is.”

The pilot called for them to buckle up for the descent into Jerez, and ten minutes later they were on the ground. The aircraft taxied to the general aviation terminal; then the pilot killed the engines. Knuckles and Carly stood up, carrying nothing more than a backpack each. Pike said, “Make the call in one cycle of darkness. Either you get him or you decide to abort, but I want you headed back home tomorrow night at the latest. There’s a rendition flight inbound right now. Whether it comes home with a terrorist or not, I want you on that aircraft.”

Knuckles nodded, saying, “Don’t do anything without me.”

—

One and a half hours after landing, Knuckles and Carly were sitting in a rented Honda across the street from the mosque, having arrived later than they wanted. Luckily, the blue marble was still inside.

The airport ended up being about an hour outside of Algeciras, and Knuckles had exited the ramp of the plane like a condemned man, knowing he had to endure the entire drive next to Carly. He’d seen her talking to Jennifer and dreaded what he was about to experience, regretting what he’d said on the plane. He actually hoped that the man at the far end had some guns. Violence would be easier to face than Carly’s wrath.

Thankfully, Carly had spent the first twenty minutes just navigating, giving him directions while he drove. It wasn’t until they were on the long stretch of the A-381 highway that she finally tipped over the applecart.

She said, “Did you lie to me when we talked about me joining the Taskforce? Did you have some plan all along about me attending assessment and selection?”

Flustered, he said, “No. You were recruited by Kurt all on your own, for your actions in Greece. I don’t factor in for support hires. That’s someone else’s job.”

“That’s not what I asked. I came to you to discuss it, as a friend. To get advice I trusted about leaving my career at the CIA to come work for your organization. Did you give me your honest opinion, or did you have some other plan?”

“Carly, we weren’t even dating then. No, I had no other plan.”

“But the invitation was rescinded when the Taskforce was put on stand-down after Greece. Nobody even knew if it was going to survive. During the stand-down we started dating, and then that action in Poland happened, with the Taskforce saving the day, and the president putting you guys back into operation. After that, I got the invitation again—and I came to talk to you. Again.”

“I didn’t really think about it.”

She looked out of the window, playing with her hair. He knew he was in trouble. She said, “Jennifer believes you did. She told me you talked to her at length about her experiences. She didn’t think it was idle curiosity.”

He glanced at her but remained quiet. She said, “Well?”

He gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary and said, “Okay, okay. Maybe I did think about it. What’s wrong with that?”

“But you said on the plane we couldn’t have a relationship if I did that. So, I’m just wondering how this will work out. If you can’t have both, which one do you want?”

Knuckles slapped the wheel and said, “Christ! Stop the grilling. I don’t know what I want. Shit, I’ve never even had a true relationship before. Forget about it. It’s probably a moot point anyway. Even if you wanted to go, Kurt won’t allow it.”

She said nothing. They rode in silence, Knuckles fuming in the cloud of confusion she’d generated. In truth, he hadn’t really considered the fallout. Carly’s choices were different from Jennifer’s. Jennifer and Pike were civilians. He was active-duty Navy. But Carly wasn’t even in the military. She was CIA. How was that fraternization?

Mercifully, they reached the outskirts of Algeciras, and Carly began to navigate to the blue marble on the phone. They hit a traffic circle, and halfway around it, Carly pointed and said, “That’s the mosque.”

Knuckles kept going, circling to the next exit. He took it, then did a U-turn so they were facing the building, with the traffic circle between them.

He said, “Doesn’t look like a mosque. Looks like an auto-repair shop.”

“Well, whatever it is, that’s where the phone is located.”

There were a few cars in the small parking lot out front, and upward of a dozen bicycles chained to a metal fence. Knuckles said, “Lot of bikes for a car shop. Could be something else.”

The roll-up garage door began to rise, and Knuckles saw an open bay with rugs on the floor. Inside were about thirty men in the process of putting on their shoes from a rack on the left side, all Arabs.

Knuckles said, “Shouldn’t have doubted Retro.”

The men began to stream out, and Carly said, “Here we go.”