The innocuous canvas knapsack was filled with a special batch of ajali produced by one of Ward’s pharmaceutical companies. Good stuff, they had assured him—better than anything cooked up in the region’s hidden jungle labs. It wasn’t the quality of the high he was interested in, though. It was the secret ingredient. Ricin.

The lab was experimenting with using the toxin to kill cancer cells, but it had another property that made it ideal for this operation: a delayed effect. Once inhaled, initial symptoms wouldn’t present themselves until well after everyone had partaken. Difficulty breathing. Fever. Nausea. Fluid would start to build up in the lungs and the victim’s skin would take on a bluish hue. Finally, the outcome he was interested in. Death.

“Take it!” Auma shouted. “All of you. And enter the presence of God!”

Rapp followed him toward the cave as his men rushed the altar. Their shouts became almost desperate as a few designated specialists began loading the ajali into devices designed to measure the dose.

A leafy barrier constructed in the cave entrance swung open when he and Auma got close. They passed into the darkness and it was closed firmly behind them before a single lightbulb flared to life.

A girl of around fourteen with close-cropped hair and elegant features secured the barrier in a way that wouldn’t allow light to bleed through and then dropped to her knees before Auma. She touched her head to the ground and then looked up at her master with a smile that revealed a stunning set of teeth.

She said something, but interference from the cave prevented Rapp from getting a translation. It was a situation that he’d discussed specifically with Auma. One word in anything but English while they were in the cave and he’d be chasing his balls around the floor like a couple of dropped marbles.

The self-proclaimed prophet had apparently gotten the message because he ignored her, instead continuing deeper into the cavern. It seemed to be as described—living quarters first, followed by something that passed for a war room. After that, just darkness. According to Auma, it went back a ways and then dead-ended. Rapp assumed that was a lie. Someone as smart as Auma wouldn’t pick a lair that lacked a back door. Probably more than one.

The African used one of the keys hanging around his neck to open a filing cabinet and dug around inside. Rapp tensed, but the man didn’t pull out anything more dangerous than a flip phone and an iPad.

“This is the phone I use to contact the Saudis,” he said, handing it to Rapp. “The tablet has pictures of him.”