He unlocks it and we step inside this dark, dusty office. He turns on the lights—revealing an absolute mess. Piles of papers everywhere. Metal cabinets that look decades old. A beige PC on the desk that can’t be much younger.

“I should start with the computer,” he says. “It will take a minute to boot up.”

“I don’t need it turned on,” I say. “Just give me the whole thing.”

“Very well.”

He moves behind the desk and starts pulling cords.

“David Needham,” I say. “Tell me everything you know about him.”

“I do not know that name, either,” he says. “Who is he?”

I shake my head in frustration. Again my instinct says he’s bullshitting me. I really don’t want to have to hurt him to get the truth. But will I have a choice?

As he finishes disconnecting the computer, I glance around at the mountains of paper, looking for any of value. But most are written in Arabic. Damn.

“I need your phone, too,” I say, turning away for a moment. “And any other computers and tablets. Your texts, e-mails, phone records, anything else that could possibly—”

CHOCK-CHICK!

That’s a sound I’ve heard more times than I care to count.

A shell being chambered in a pump-action shotgun.

CHAPTER 50

Instinctively I hit the deck, just as—BLAM!—buckshot roars over my head.

I lift my pistol and—

POP-POP-POP!

I fire three rounds at el-Sharif—hidden behind two filing cabinets—and desperately look around for cover.

CHOCK-CHICK!

My only real option is the office doorway behind me.

I scramble backward toward the doorframe and slip behind it just in time.

BLAM!

I get hit—but only by plaster dust that’s been shot loose from the wall.

POP-POP! POP-POP!

I return fire again, and then from my knees sneak a peek into the office.

The room was already dark. Now it’s filled with hazy smoke. Zero visibility.

I hear rustling inside. I see his shadow darting around. But I can’t get a clear shot. Not that I’m sure I want to take it. Damnit! Am I really going to have to shoot my only living suspect?!

“Saleel, just talk to me!” I yell. “Help me. And I can help you.”

CHOCK-CHICK … BLAM!

CHOCK-CHICK … BLAM!

Two more shotgun blasts keep me pinned down. I stay perfectly still and listen … until I don’t hear any more motion coming from inside the office.

So I make my move.

I burst inside, gun trained … and see the place is empty.

I spot a back door. Hidden behind one of the filing cabinets he’s been using to hide from me. It’s slightly ajar.

He must have slipped out.

I kick it open and carefully step through, holding out my pistol, using two trash bins as cover. The open door leads to an empty parking lot and alleyway behind the office building.

Both are empty. No sign of him.