The man shut his eyes. Now tears streamed freely.

After a moment, he composed himself and spoke again.

“My sister thought her beloved daughters were lost to her. So many young ones were taken. So many in the community thought that those animals… And yet, it seemed impossible to act against them. And the American government would do nothing.”

Big Daddy raised a hand. “Well, let’s be clear a minute. These guys work for the American government. And so do I.”

The imam cast a baleful eye at Big Daddy.

“We petitioned your embassy and your military leaders for months. We described the priceless artifacts being stolen, the people being murdered at will, the complete disregard for human life by these American soldiers—contractors, you call them. The embassy told us it was out of their hands. But these men came, just two men, and ended the disaster in a single morning. And the leader of this carnage is dead. Praise Allah.”

The man finally let go of their hands. He gestured at a slim manila envelope that sat on the table.

“In that envelope is my gift to you… and you.” He pointed to Luke and Ed in turn. “I ask, in all sincerity, that only you men open it, and only you men make use of what is inside. I consider it a goodwill gesture, and believe me when I say I will know what happens and who is involved.”

What was the man offering them—a check? Two tickets on a cruise liner? Plane tickets to a Red Sea resort? For a moment, Luke pictured himself and angry Ed Newsam lying back on lounge chairs side by side, sipping drinks and looking out at the water. It was an odd meeting.

“Oh, we can’t accept tips,” Luke almost said, but didn’t.

“What is it?” he said instead.

“It is a map to a location in the western desert,” the man said. “It is a lawless territory, and the people are openly hostile to your government and its plans. The location is a camp, and people are trained there for what you would call terrorism.”

“There are many kinds of terrorism,” Ed Newsam said.

The man nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you want us to bomb the site?” Luke said.

“No. You must go there. There are plans afoot. I have heard rumors. Something is going to happen. The organizers are there, or were. Some of the people involved were trained there in the past—trained to withstand pain, boredom, extremes of heat and cold, physical and psychological torture.”

Luke stared at the man. “What are they going to do?”

The imam shook his head. “I don’t know. I cannot find out, and if I were to press for details, my life would be forfeit. The things I have already told you, and the map I have left for you, are already enough to see me hung in a public place and bled white.”