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My squad holstered their guns.
“Are you hurt?” Stone asked.
I pulled the knife out of the wall. “Nope, missed me by a good inch.”
Rodriquez snickered.
General Grandville scowled. “Did you have to kill both of them?”
“Yes, sir, we did,” Stone said, not an ounce of remorse in his tone. “Roberts and his goons have tried to kill Reynolds five times now.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. They were keeping count. It was nice having someone watching my six.
Tex pointed at the ink pen in Muhammed’s shirt pocket. “Booby-trapped?”
I took a closer look. “It is. That pen is normally used for suicide attacks. We need to evacuate the building. Now!”
“Suicide attacks? Evacuate? What are you talking about?” General Masters demanded.
Fighting down the urge to run for my life, I explained, “When triggered, the pen spews anthrax into the air. Anyone who inhales the toxin is dead within thirty seconds and one of the bullets might have damaged it.”
“Everyone out!” General Masters bellowed.
We all hurried out of the building and took refuge next to a sandbag covered concrete bunker.
General Masters pulled out his sat phone. “Send a disposal squad to my office to contain an explosive device loaded with anthrax.”
I frowned and sniffed the air. Damn. Was that bay rum?
“What’s wrong?” Stone asked.
“Do you smell bay rum?”
Everyone began sniffing.
“It’s stronger over here,” Tex said, giving a fine impression of a K9 hunting down his prey. He came to an abrupt halt. “Bomb!”
My gaze froze on the timer. There were only nine minutes left before it blew. “Running might be good.”
“That fucking bastard!” Sergeant Stone knelt and examined the bomb. “The bomb has two complex motion sensors, if I attempt to move it, it’ll blow.”
“Roberts meant for the bomb to spread the anthrax,” Johson growled.
“Here comes my bomb disposal guys. They’re the best,” General Masters said.
A flash of light caught my attention on the ridge above us. I casually walked over to the bunker, propped Bertha up on a sandbag and scanned the area. “Sonovabitch.”
“Who is it?” Stone wanted to know.
“Roberts and some of his goons. He also has a grenade launcher. He really doesn’t want anyone to know what’s on the microdot.”
“It’s too late for that. The Pentagon and his bosses at the CIA have a copy.” Stone motioned to his men. “Roberts is a dead man walking.”
The guys trotted over to us wearing their cold-eyed killers’ expressions.
“Roberts is on the ridge above us, and he’s got a grenade launcher. Tex let the generals know and get everyone inside the bunker. It has an air filtration system.”
“Yes, sir.” Tex strolled over to the generals.