Kim had expected Faraz to wait for her until she climbed out the window, but he was already way ahead, dashing across the flat roof to the ramparts on the far side of the balcony. She stopped to inspect her surroundings, nervous about what might be lurking in the night’s shadows. But as far as she could tell there was nothing dangerous out there—so long as she wasn’t counting the unmanned PKM belt-fed machine gun at an opening in the wall by the parapet.
There were a few scattered chairs against the iron railing to the left and a windowless wall to the right. The floor was littered with cigarette butts and dozens of spent cartridges that had certainly been a by-product of the PKM. Unfortunately, the crew-served weapon was way too heavy for a quick escape, especially with the 100-round ammo box attached to its tripod.
As Kim eased along the deck, she glanced at the inner walls of the desert fortress, noting that it looked exactly like the kind of place that belonged to a heroin trafficker. With this in mind, Kim took extra care to locate any guards atop the outside walls. What little illumination she could see by was coming from windows inside the mansion or from security floodlights.
Kim moved to Faraz, who was focused on something over the edge of the bulwark. She skirted around a pile of rolled-up prayer rugs and peered over also, finding five parked vehicles. There were two white Toyota pickups, a red one, and a black BMW X7 SUV. Given the remote location, on top of the fact that no one would be foolish enough to steal from a drug lord, she assumed the keys would be left inside and probably in the ignition.
Faraz’s face lit up. “I’ll get the wheels. You get the old man.”
Spying an iron fire escape ladder, Kim began to move. “Come on. This way.”
After making her way down the rungs, Kim gave a quick look around to find the courtyard empty. It was near sunrise, which meant most of the traffickers were still asleep. But there would have to be one or two on guard. She made a quick dash to the BMW to find the keys where she suspected, and what looked to be Ozzy’s UZI PRO submachine gun lying in the passenger seat.
Kim opened the door, killed the cabin light, and grabbed the gun. “Come to mama.”
Faraz zipped up from behind and eyed the weapon. “When do we go?”
Kim moved from the driver’s seat. “Wait in here.” She glanced at the compound. “Hopefully, I can sneak in unseen.” She turned to Faraz. “But if I can’t, you’ll know pretty quick.”
Faraz took her place behind the wheel and looked up. “What do you mean, I’ll know?”
Kim unfolded the stock on the UZI, clicked it into place, and looked down at the Trijicon red dot atop the Picatinny rail. “You hear shooting, crank the engine, and put it in drive. Just be ready to haul ass the second you see us come out the front door. We’ll be in a dead sprint.”
Faraz just stared straight ahead. “And if you don’t make it out?”
“Then disappear, Faraz. Get out of here as quick as you can and don’t look back.”
Kim wanted to say something meaningful, to tell him there was so much more in life. And most importantly, she wanted to remind him about Asadi. But she kept her mouth shut.
It wasn’t just a factor of time. Which she was losing by the second. It was the note of finality. That message would be too close to parting words. And she wasn’t quite ready for that.
Feeling dark desperation sweep over her, Kim jacked in a round, braced the UZI’s stock to her shoulder, and sprinted to a side door. She tested the knob, found it locked, then moved on. Coming up to a corner, she peeked around to an open courtyard with an empty swimming pool. Kim pulled back immediately as a floodlight flashed on overhead.
Given the timing, she knew it was only triggered by a sensor, but that wouldn’t matter to an inquisitive guard. Back flush against the wall, Kim held her breath and counted to ten, but the only sound that followed was the chatter and crowd noise from a televised soccer match. Another quick glance and Kim rushed to the next entrance.
A turn of the knob and this time it clicked. Ever so gently, she pushed the door and made her way inside, cringing as the hinges screeched and whined. With just enough light coming through the window from the beams outside, Kim brought the gun to her shoulder and eased down the dim corridor. A few twists and turns and she finally recognized a stairwell by the kitchen.
Kim moved through the staff dining area until reaching the storeroom. Breathing a sigh of relief that the area was unguarded, she moved to it and turned the dead bolt. Another quick listen yielded no detectable sound but the hum of a large refrigerator in the far corner of the room. Feeling her spirits rise as her plan was working, Kim lowered the barrel of her UZI before opening the door. She entered the storeroom, shocked to find that Bayat was actually standing.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Faraz has a car. He’s waiting for us.”
Bayat shot her a weak smile and said in a raspy voice, “Knew you could do it.”
“We have to move fast. Can you walk on your own?”
Bayat gave a solid nod, but his face told her otherwise. It would be all he could do to move at all, let alone quickly. Kim wanted to help him, but she needed to keep vigilant with her weapon as she led them through the house. She had just taken his hand into hers and got him on the move when the sound of voices echoed from the back entrance.
Kim closed and locked the storeroom door behind Bayat, then made an about-face and followed him. When she was certain he could keep up, she advanced ahead, leading them back out the same way she’d come in. When they’d finally reached the outside, Kim tripped the spotlight again by accident, triggering the sound of frantic voices.
“Dammit!” Kim pointed to the opening in the perimeter wall where the vehicles were kept, and whispered to Bayat, “That way! Through that entrance! Faraz is waiting on the other side.”
“Wait.” Bayat grabbed her sleeve. “Where are you going?”
“Just going to slow these guys down a little.” With Bayat looking hesitant to leave her behind, she pulled away and gave him a gentle push. “I’m right behind you, now go!”
Reluctantly, Bayat shuffled off, stumbling the first few steps. He oriented himself with a quick glance around and then veered in the right direction. Kim turned back to the entrance to find the barrel of a Makarov pistol gliding past the threshold.
There was no waiting to see the whites of his eyes. She pulled the trigger and let her rip with a full-auto burst that tore into a gunman who crumpled to the floor. A quick left pivot and she took off in a sprint to the front of the compound. Every agonizing second covering the wide-open space she expected to take a bullet, but she made it to the wall without hearing a shot.
A swing around the opening to hook right and dash for the BMW was stopped short when she saw the empty parking place. Kim didn’t know which was more heartbreaking, the fact that Faraz had abandoned them the second he had the chance or the forlorn look on Bayat’s face.
Kim wanted to hate Asadi’s brother for what he’d done but couldn’t bring herself to do it. He wasn’t born bad. He was just too far gone—a pure result of her failure to find him sooner.