Chapters (96)
- Cover
- Berkley titles by David Ricciardi
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- CHARACTER LIST
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EIGHTY-FIVE
- EIGHTY-SIX
- EIGHTY-SEVEN
- Children of Fallen Patriots Foundation
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“What kind of biological agent?”
“There’s no way to tell without testing it.”
Graves sat back in his chair.
“Well, it may be a sanctions violation, but it’s a moot point. It’s at the bottom of the ocean now.”
“I don’t think it is.”
Graves leaned forward again and braced his thick forearms on his desk. His face filled the screen of Jake’s laptop.
“You told me you saw the photos of the ship sinking. You told me it’s at the bottom of the ocean.”
“The ship is at the bottom of the ocean, but Yaxaas stole the cargo before he sank it.”
“Is this another one of your hunches?”
“SOCOM intercepted a convoy leaving Kismaayo yesterday. It was carrying weapons from the Saviz.”
“Fucking warlords,” said Graves. “I’m not surprised. Let me make a phone call and figure out the best way to get that crate transported and tested.”
“The crate wasn’t in the trucks, Ted. A few trucks made it out of the port before U.S. forces arrived.”
Graves stared at the screen.
“Yaxaas has the bioweapon, Ted.”
“We don’t know that it’s a bioweapon, Jake. It could be nothing.”
“It’s a bioweapon.”
“You’re going to have to ignore it for now,” said Graves. “We still need Yaxaas.”
Jake shook his head.
“Jake, for your own sake, forget about it. All you have is a picture of a wet crate and a razor-thin theory. I can’t go to the Seventh Floor with this and say we’ve got a loose Iranian weapon of mass destruction. It’d be Iraq Two all over again.”
“Ted, Iran has had a biowarfare program for forty years. It’s a biotechnology leader in the developing world. Ten years ago they were sanctioned for buying pathological instruments, spray driers, and other now dual-use technologies from the Chinese, and Somalia is in the middle of its third famine in twenty years. A biological epidemic here would send the country back to the Stone Age.”
“I’m not disputing any of that, Jake, but what are you going to do about it? Ask Yaxaas if he has it and to kindly return it? Then he’ll know there’s a loose weapon of mass destruction out there, or at least that we think there is. At that point, even if he doesn’t have it he can claim that he does, then blackmail us.”
“Sometimes you have to poke the bear.”
“Move on, Keller.”
“I’m trying to save a country, Ted.”
“So am I,” Graves snapped. “The United States of America. Stay away from Yaxaas.”
FIFTY-TWO
THE NURSE’S BLUE hijab and brilliant smile were like beacons of hope to those inside the clinic.