95

MONTERREY, MEXICO

The G5 landed just before noon.

The Gulfstream taxied to a private hangar, where Marcus and his team—with the exception of Noah Daniels—disembarked. Marcus needed Noah to get back to Washington immediately with the computers and phones they had grabbed and to crack them open with the help of his colleagues at Langley and Fort Meade. The rest of them were greeted by a security detail and Miguel Navarro, the thirty-seven-year-old CIA chief of station. Climbing into a caravan of three bulletproof SUVs, they were whisked off the airport grounds to a safe house about thirty minutes north of the airport.

On the drive, Marcus made two calls. The first was to Annie to let her know they’d arrived safely. She was glad to hear from him and said she was doing well but things were moving fast. She was en route to the Pentagon at that moment and couldn’t talk, but she promised to call back later.

The next call was to his mom. She had no idea he’d been to Yemen, nor that he was currently in Mexico. Nor was Marcus going to tell her. She knew he was working for the CIA. Then again, the entire world now knew that. She also knew he was intensely busy, under tremendous pressure, and that enemies of the United States were gunning for him. She did not know the specifics, and Marcus was careful not to discuss his work with her. She certainly didn’t have the security clearances for him to talk shop with her. More important, he didn’t want her to worry more than she already did. So he kept things light. Asked if she and his sisters were settling into life at Bolling. She assured him that they were, though the kids missed their friends and schools, and his sisters were not exactly big fans of being forced to homeschool them, especially so late in the school year. Marcus said he sympathized, but he reiterated that it was important they be kept safe.

Jenny, meanwhile, was chatting with Navarro. Though she, too, had been a station chief—the Agency’s youngest, based in Moscow—the two operatives had never crossed paths. After saying goodbye to his mom, Marcus listened in on their conversation. He heard Navarro say that he had been born in Houston of Mexican immigrants and was fluent in Spanish and Portuguese. After graduating from West Point, he had served as the commander of an Army Ranger unit in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, and later in Operation Iraqi Freedom, operating mostly in Fallujah. After being wounded by an IED, he had recovered for several months at Walter Reed before he was recruited by Martha Dell to join the CIA. Navarro explained that he had been sent on missions into Venezuela and Colombia before being assigned to the U.S. Embassy in Brazil as a State Department political officer, then to the American embassy in Nicaragua, and was eventually promoted to lead the CIA’s work in Mexico.

Finally they pulled onto a placid, tree-lined street. Several blocks in, they passed through a set of steel gates and into the driveway of a walled compound. On the outside, it looked like any large hacienda that might be owned by a wealthy Mexican CEO. Inside, however, they were led down to the basement, where they found a sprawling underground operations center humming with staff not only from Langley but from the FBI, Drug Enforcement Administration, Customs and Border Protection, and the Pentagon.

Marcus declined the tour Navarro offered, explaining they were already dangerously behind. Kairos operatives could very well be inside the American homeland at this very moment, yet they had no idea where or what they were planning. Navarro took them down a hallway, punched in a passcode, submitted to a retinal scan, and opened a vault-like door. He had everyone take a seat around a small conference table. On the walls were large TV monitors, and laptops linked to the Agency’s mainframe were positioned at each spot around the table. Once they were all served fresh coffee, the station chief picked up a phone and dialed Langley. Moments later, a live video feed from the office of acting Director Martha Dell flickered on the screens around them.

Marcus braced himself for a dressing-down for not bringing Ruzami in alive. But that was not the case.

“Agent Ryker, I want to congratulate you and your team on a job very well done in Yemen,” Dell began. “The president will address the nation tonight and announce—well, let me just read an excerpt from the prepared text.”

They watched as she sifted through several papers on her desk.

“Here it is,” Dell continued. “‘I am pleased to announce tonight that U.S. forces have successfully hunted down and taken out Abu Nakba’s chief of operations in Yemen. They have also captured or killed all the members of a major Kairos terrorist cell in Yemen that was plotting attacks against the United States and our allies around the globe.’ The president won’t mention the Agency’s involvement in any of this. But I met with him this morning, and he asked me to convey his gratitude for everything you did in Yemen.”

Marcus tensed and was about to say something, but Dell wasn’t finished.

“I received a call from Jeddah this morning, from your friend Prince Abdullah,” she added. “Apparently, the one guy you didn’t kill in Yemen was not just a bodyguard. The Saudis have been working him over pretty good. His nom de guerre is Abu Jihad. His real name is Ismail al-Houthi.”

Dell explained that he was the eldest son of the founder of Ansar Allah, the formal name of the Houthi rebels, which translated to “Supporters of God.”

“He’s thirty-two years old, born and raised in Aden, and trained by his father in the art of tribal warfare,” Dell continued. “Went on to train his six younger brothers but was severely wounded by a Saudi air strike about eighteen months ago. Nearly died. Lost a kidney. Apparently, at the Houthis’ HQ, he was constantly at his father’s side and constantly pushing his father to transform the Houthis into a global terrorist organization focused on killing Christians and Jews and establishing a global Caliphate, not simply taking over Yemen. When his father repeatedly refused, Ismail defected to Kairos and became an aide to Abu Nakba. The Saudis say they have no doubt this guy is going to spill his guts soon, and when he does, you and your team will be among the first to know.”

The unexpected information came as significant encouragement to a group that badly needed some good news.

But Dell had more.