The sound of an engine reached him from the west. He climbed the fence and dropped to the ground before headlights became visible. Once inside the perimeter, he ran to the building, slipping through the deep shadows that clung to the walls. With the cameras off, he was probably safe, but it didn’t pay to take those kinds of things for granted. When he reached the front, he peered past Singh’s car at two approaching vehicles. They stopped at the gate and a man stepped out to open it. He moved like a professional—graceful, silent, and paying as much attention to his environment as he could while also getting a key into the padlock. A bulge in his silhouette suggested that he was armed with something more formidable than the paring knife Rapp had brought from his rental.

The bulky SUVs pulled in and the man closed but didn’t lock the gate. Clearly, preparing for an efficient departure when their meeting was over. Probably not good news for Singh.

There was no way for Rapp to get in through the front—the men staying with the SUVs would have that covered. But the back of the building looked like it had sections that weren’t finished and had been covered with tarps to keep the sand out. If there was a gap in one, he could probably slip through. Tarps were tricky, though. While not particularly solid, they were shockingly loud if you had to move them.

Rapp found a potential ingress point beneath a sheet of plastic that didn’t quite reach the ground. He was on his belly with his head already partly beneath it when the darkness was interrupted by two flashes accompanied by what sounded like a silenced .22 pistol.

Shit.

There were a few indistinct Arabic voices and then someone announced he was leaving. Rapp extricated himself from the plastic and started back around the building, moving as quickly as possible while still remaining silent.

An engine started but he managed to reach the front before it pulled away. Three men were standing outside the idling SUV talking quietly among themselves. The darkness hid their features while the glare of headlights illuminated the twenty yards separating Rapp from them. If there had been one man behind the wheel and only two absorbed in conversation, he might have had a chance. Cover the distance at full speed. Take down the two talking men. Get hold of a weapon. Kill the driver before he could get a shot off. Deal with the people still inside the building.

Maybe a sixty percent chance of survival.