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?
The brother and his henchmen returned to their trucks and sped from the camp, laughing as they struck and killed a pedestrian who’d been too weak and slow to get out of the way.
FIFTY-FIVE
YAXAAS RETURNED TO his compound in Mogadishu as soon as the tests were completed. Badeed’s intelligence operation had eyes and ears everywhere, and the Hawiye warlord had used past absences as opportunities to stir up trouble.
He didn’t realize that the balance of power was about to change.
“We could kill hundreds of Hawiye,” Nacay said, “maybe thousands.”
Father and son were in Yaxaas’s office with the French doors open to the courtyard. Below them, Little Yaxaas was resting motionless on the banks of the pond with his enormous mouth open to cool his body. Though towering cumulus clouds had blown in from the sea over the past few days, no rain had come.
“Killing Badeed will be a technical challenge,” said Yaxaas. “He is a wise fool.”
“So we target their leadership,” said Nacay, “then start a rumor of a mystical Sufi curse brought on by Badeed’s evil actions. Once the people closest to him start dying mysteriously, the rest of the Hawiye will seal him in one of his own barrels and throw him into the sea.”
“‘The Shark Plague,’” mused Yaxaas. Victory was close. He could feel it. He needed only to develop the delivery system he envisioned.
He’d just begun to explain it when his mobile phone rang.
“It’s the American.”
—
JAKE ENDED THE call. “He won’t discuss it over the phone.”
“Meeting in person is a bad idea,” said Pickens. The big man had been pacing around the safe house since Jake had come up with his plan.
“Concur,” said Clap. “It could be an ambush.”
“And it could be that Yaxaas has no idea what he has,” said Jake. “If we can buy the weapon crates back from him before they’re opened, he might play ball.”
“He sure as hell won’t give them up if he learns he’s got a weapon of mass destruction in there,” said Pickens.
“Ignoring the danger isn’t going to make it go away,” Jake said. “Bioweapons are engineered to be highly contagious and resistant to treatment. If enough people are infected before they become symptomatic, it could kill half of Mogadishu inside a few months—call it a million people. In a year it could decimate the entire Horn of Africa. It has to be destroyed.”
“We’ll support you—whatever you decide,” said Clap, “but let us put together a tactical plan that makes sense. We choose the time. We choose the place.”
The Ground Branch team members were mostly special-ops combat veterans in their forties and had all been working with unsavory types a lot longer than Jake.