Page 93 of Enemy of My Enemy

The flaming ceiling came crashing down, plaster and wood shattering and falling to the floor. Faisal ducked into a ball and dropped the phone, curling and trying to drag himself farther away from the all-consuming flames. In the distance, the wail of sirens rose, the long, two-tone beat of the Saudi emergency services. Maybe, if he held on.

His fingers stretched for the phone, but it was too far. Adam’s voice bellowed from the speaker, shouting his name and begging him to say something, anything.

“I’m here, Adam,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Darkness closed in, wavering on the edges of his vision. He tried to breathe, but ash coated his bloody lips, and he coughed hard. His stomach pulsed, another gush of blood pumping from his slit abdomen. He laid his head down on the warm tile and stared at the sat phone, listening to Adam shout his name as the world blacked out.

* * *

Tampa, FL

Adam squealedto stop outside the Gator Bar, a dive bar and strip club on the industrial side of Tampa Bay. In one fist, he gripped his satellite phone so hard his hand ached. The call had long since cut off. Tears dried on his cheeks, salt tracks that he hadn’t wiped away.

Against the shadowed side of the clap steel dive bar, a dark shape shifted, and then a man stood, stumbling toward Adam’s truck. “C’mon!” Adam shouted when he threw open the door. Doc, mud-and-blood-covered, fell into the passenger seat.

Doc slumped sideways on the truck’s bench seat as Adam took off, burning rubber as they roared out of the parking lot.

“Are you fucking hurt?” Adam’s shifted the sat phone to his other hand, also holding the steering wheel, and grabbed at Doc’s shoulders, his arms, and his chest. “Talk to me, Doc!”

“Concussion,” Doc groaned. “Broken face. Broken ribs.” He coughed, moaning as he squeezed his eyes closed.

“Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Adam’s truck veered right and then left, swerving around cars as he floored it down the side streets. “’Cause I don’t know if we can.”

“No,” Doc groaned. “I can handle it.” He rolled, grimacing, and looked up at Adam. “What the fuck do we do now?”

“Ghost protocol. We vanish. I told the guys. Get cash and get the fuck out of here. Throw away their phones. Check in online in a week.”

“So where the fuck are we going?” Doc groaned again, trying to stay still as Adam drove like a madman, a bat out of hell.

Adam’s jaw clenched, and his fingers kneaded the steering wheel, over and over.

“L-T? Where the fuck are we going?”

“Where I should have fucking stayed.”

* * *

BREAKING NEWS

Russian Destroyer Attacked and Sunk in Indian Ocean

A Russian destroyer, the Vinogradov, heading back to Russia after finishing her tour of duty in the Persian Gulf in support of antiterrorist operations in conjunction with the United States, was attacked and sunk in the Indian Ocean. Initial reports indicate terrorists, in possession of a hijacked tanker, attacked the destroyer by surprise, luring her in under a false distress signal and a request for assistance. Final transmissions from the Vinogradov show they had come alongside the tanker to render aid and assistance to what they believed was a vessel that had lost all power and was drifting off course.

Frantic messages received after indicate chaos and a fierce battle for the destroyer. Suicide bombers boarded, detonating and punching the first holes in the destroyer’s hull. An invasion force swarmed the destroyer, killing most of the crew. Captain Anatoly Lukyanenko was executed by the terrorists on the bridge, shown in a brutal video released online.

The attack comes amid a season of unrest and violent upheaval in Russia. Multiple suicide bombers detonated at a state funeral President Puchkov held for a murdered homosexual victim of a targeted terrorist attack, an event for which he was roundly criticized. Hardline elements protesting against President Puchkov’s government clashed with federal police in Moscow and St. Petersburg and turned violent at a gay pride parade in Moscow. Some in the federal police stood by, watching as riots erupted, and members of the LGBT pride parade were attacked. And, in two separate terror attacks, homemade bombs exploded at a shopping mall in downtown Moscow, and a shooter opened fire at a busy basketball game.

General Moroshkin, Commander of the Russian Armed Forces, has repeatedly blasted President Puchkov, saying that the president has made his country the target of terrorists with his reformist policies. Moroshkin has emerged as the number one challenger to President Puchkov, and some in the Russian government have called for Puchkov to step down. The Federal Duma in Moscow began discussions on calling for a vote of no confidence in Puchkov’s government just last week.

* * *

Chapter 33

White House

Phones buzzedand muted conversations flew through the Situation Room. Watch officers relayed up-to-the-minute intelligence. Video footage from ten different news stations played on monitors along one wall. Admiral McDonald spoke to the captain of theSan Jacinto, steaming at full speed toward the site of the Russian destroyer’s sinking. Old coffee and the stink of shock and sweat filled the room.

Jack scrubbed his hands over his face. The attack had come in the middle of the night, like all terrible news was bound to. Two nights before, it had been Cooper’s terse voicemail to Ethan, his message that said he’d enacted ghost protocol and would check back after securing the situation. And a growled, bitten-off request to recover Fitz’s body.