Page 47

Mirage

One of the intel officers—if Mirage recalled, his nickname was Speed because of the quick way he obtained critical information—went into more depth.

“The leader of this clan has its life-sucking tentacles spread across Beijing, Pyongyang, from Iran to fuckin’ Moscow.”

Mirage liked Speed’s metaphors.

“These are some of the United States’ biggest threats, fellas.” Spectre stared at Grace. “This wrong needs to be righted as soon as possible.”

Speed continued. “The shipment on the right screen is believed to contain chemicals and elements that aided in last month’s US Switzerland embassy bombing. The target was Elias Silas. A commander general of the protection power of the US in Iran.”

Grace gave Mirage a tight nod.

“How close did they get?” he asked for Grace.

The Blacks’ handler frowned, probably at their form of communication, but remained quiet.

“Too close,” Spectre answered.

The Browns’ firearm examiner, Dolph, took that as his cue to add his input.

“He was shot in the back with a long-range rifle after the bomb detonated.” Dolph pointed his clicker at the monitor, showing an image of the rifle and the size and damage capacity of the bullet.

“The fast medical attention Silas received saved his life,” Dr. Rossi from medical informed. “Once he was stabilized, you see him here being transported to a hospital in Berlin. Forty-nine hours later, the general’s health status was downgraded from critical, but doctors confirm he’s still not out of the woods.”

With perfect timing, one of the operators pulled up images of the private wing in the Hamburg medical facility.

“He’s not out of the woods threat-wise either.”

“Why?” Mirage asked.

“The hospital’s already received multiple bomb threats that Speed is certain came from the Kenjuka Clan.”

So much for a secret location.

“Woyashi is being fed classified intel from someone high up, and if his clan gets another attempt at the execution and succeeds, there’ll be no one in the way of the arms war Woyashi’s orchestrating.”

“We believe Woyashi will have a ninety-five percent success probability with Zelmir Benton in his employ,” ballistics confirmed.

Grace’s face was an emotionless mask.

“Can Silas be moved to a safer location?” Mirage questioned.

It would mean they’d have little time to carry out their mission because moving an influential political leader was always a race against the clock. It was one of the easiest ways to complete an unfinished execution.

For the right price, a low-paid hospital orderly or a convoy driver—deep in debt—assigned to the general could get Woyashi whatever information he needed on routes and secure locations.

“They’re gonna move him tomorrow at oh five hundred,” Spectre answered.

What the fuckin’ hell? Tomorrow?

Mirage was sure Grace was yelling the same curses in his mind.

That tight window left little time for reconnaissance, confirmed schematics, and travel.

“I know one day to formulate a mission is insane,” the lead field supervisor noted. “But that’s why Corvo is here. The Blacks will be on-site and will shadow the general’s convoy to ensure safe removal.”

Mirage cut his eyes to Grace.

Interesting , his partner relayed with a slight lift of one brow.

“The time restraints on this one sucks ass, guys. I get it.” Spectre watched them for a long moment, relaying in his own way that he would see them through this. “But there’s no other way around this window. Woyashi never sleeps in the same location twice, and he scrambles all communications within a twenty-mile radius of his site.”

Their shadow director drew their attention to the holograph of the compound.

“We’ll have one shot at this, Browns, since Woyashi will have a considerable force of his men with him.”

“The director does not want this to turn into a bloodbath in the heart of Germany,” he stressed. “We attack from a distance and get the hell out of the country before no one’s the wiser.”

“Copy,” Mirage muttered.

“First priority is to secure the safe transport of the general. Priority two is to make it appear that one of Woyashi’s own men turned on him and killed him. Final task. Execute explosives engineer Zelmir Benton.”

“Hard copy,” Mirage acknowledged.