Tranadyl was a synthetic derivative of Fentanyl. With its Fentanyl base, it was arguably more potent than either heroin or morphine, and if you mismanaged its dosage, just like China White, you could be in serious trouble.

People on the street knew not to mix Selzucaine and Tranadyl, so the key was not letting them know that the two drugs had been combined.

Designer drugs were being created on an almost daily basis. The DEA determined which drugs were illegal, but there was virtually no way for them to keep up with what was happening on the streets and in private labs across the country. So by manipulating synthetics, you could stay one step ahead of the law.

Earlier, Blake had received word from his NSA contact that the Feds were planning to raid his condo in Manhattan. He’d taken care of the silent ladies he’d had with him there before leaving, so he wasn’t worried about them providing any evidence, but he was curious who’d betrayed him and leaked the location.

Ibrahim came to mind first.

After watching what’d happened to Jasper, it was quite possible that the Syrian had gotten cold feet in moving forward with everything, and that did not bode well for the timing of treating the mannequins and getting them onto the streets.

And it did not bode well for Ibrahim.

The man’s connections to extremist groups were vital to Blake’s plan. To make things play out like he envisioned, it was crucial that Ibrahim stayed on task, at least for the next thirty-six hours. Then, it wouldn’t matter whose side he was on, or which side he thought he was on. He would be revealed for who he truly was and would either spend the rest of his life in prison or die at the hands of law enforcement while being apprehended.

Or suicide.

That was possible.

He might take his own life.

Considering his religious devotion and his reticence to getting caught, that seemed like a legitimate possibility.

Of course, if necessary, Blake would be glad to take care of his demise personally—if things came to that. The office building was wooden and, with a fire started in the right place on the first floor or in the basement, the whole building would go up quite quickly.

A contingency plan. Just in case.

And after the mannequins were distributed and the jihadist was out of the way, public sentiment would be on Blake’s side.

A puzzle slowly piecing itself together.

However, the betrayer wasn’t necessarily Ibrahim, and Blake reminded himself to hold back from making unjustified assumptions.

After positioning his men throughout the grounds and telling them to contact him if there was any movement, he called Ibrahim and asked him to come to the facility. “I have some things to go over with you, and I think it would be best if we discussed them in person.”

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