Much of the paperwork, and the computer files, were written in complex codes that, at least in the past several hours, no one had been able to break. The concern was, of course, that moles had been sent out into Western countries to prepare for an attack of some kind, or a series of attacks.

As it was, the camp had been quarantined soon after Luke and Ed secured the place. They had been rushed out of there, and a forensic team brought in. Nearly all the materials onsite had been confiscated and disappeared. Luke assumed that the CIA or NSA had the stuff now. If Big Daddy knew anything about it, he wasn’t saying.

For his part, Don had commended his team on a job well done, and told them to come on home on the first plane.

That was good enough for Luke. Nearly dying twice was plenty for one day.

Swann stood up, as if to go. He shrugged. “The codes explain the operation—they give the aliases and locations of the infiltrators, and the instructions for where and when to launch the attack. Maybe. Or maybe they’re the recipes for killer tabbouleh. Who knows? I guess that’s not our department now. And I’m happy to let the big brains upstairs try to puzzle it out. I’m going to go curl up on a cot in a corner somewhere and get some sleep.”

He paused just before leaving. He looked down at Trudy and grinned.

“Care to join me?”

She smiled. “On your cot?”

“I’ll find us a nice comfy one.”

She shook her head. “Sadly, I don’t think there will be enough room for you, me, and your legs.”

Swann shrugged. His grin faltered only the tiniest amount.

“Your loss,” he said, and went out.

Now Luke and Trudy were alone. He stared at her for a bit. She looked like someone who had no business being here in Baghdad. She was very pretty, thin, with big eyes behind her owl-like glasses. She was young, just out of her teens, even though she had graduated from MIT a few years before. Luke knew Don thought highly of her. Don felt that she had the potential to be one of the best intelligence analysts in the business. Actually, Don felt that she had the potential to be one of the best whatever she decided she wanted to be. Luke suspected that Don was a little bit smitten with her, and more than in just a daughterly way.

Luke could see it. If you looked at her long enough, you began to fall into her deep blue eyes. There was a mystery in there.

“What about you?” he said.

“What about me?”

“What do you think about the camp? Strange place to train young metrosexuals to hang out in Paris nightclubs. No?”