Page 144 of Tom Clancy Line of Sight

“President Yermilov, I have a suggestion. But there’s no time to waste.”

“I’m listening.”

“Contact your man in Belgrade, Deputy Commander General Sevrov. And do it now.”

70

SARAJEVO, BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA

Džeko sat by himself in the Happy Times! bus. His thirty-seven passengers, all bearded Orthodox clergy in simple black cassocks, were inside the stadium, participating in the Renewal service, while he remained parked near the facility, waiting for their return.

Or so they thought.

Thanks to them, entrance into the heart of the sports complex had been arranged, and the parking space next to the stadium preassigned by a senior Bosnian prelate.

He checked his analog watch again for the tenth time in the last minute. In a few seconds it would be 10:16. Brkic had been explicit, and his commander’s words were sacrosanct.

Where were the rockets? They should have arrived by now. They should have exploded.

Something was wrong. His orders were clear. Still, heneeded clarity. He picked up his cell phone to call Brkic, but the phone was dead.

He glanced outside his windshield. He noticed other people struggling with their cell phones.

Thekuffarmust have killed the cell-phone signals.

No matter. He knew his duty.

He pulled a remote control switch out of the storage tray in the console. It was connected wirelessly to the forty detached thermobaric warheads hidden in the luggage compartment of the bus.

Džeko closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed theshahada. “I testify that there is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is His Prophet.Allahu akbar!”

Džeko jammed the remote with his thumb.

Nothing.

He opened his eyes. What happened? He pressed the button again, and again, and again. Nothing. The batteries must be dead, he decided.

Or something else.

No matter.

Džeko reached for the glove box. Inside was a yellow handle. All he had to do was pull it to manually detonate the charges. He flipped open the glove box just as bullets shattered the bus’s giant windshield and tore into his skull and upper torso, killing him instantly.

Outside, a knot of Russian and OSA-OBA operatives charged toward the bus.

With comms dead, they flashed hand signals and cleared the way for the demolition experts right behind them.

71

SARAJEVO, BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA

Two days later, there was a knock at the front door of Ambassador Topal’s private residence. He glanced up, puzzled, in his silken robe and pajamas. Who would come calling at this time of night?

He shuffled over to the marbled foyer in his dress slippers and opened the door.

“Jack? What are you doing here?”

“You always told me to stop by before I left. Here I am.”