Using it like a cudgel, I bash the first man square in the nose with it, then sweep his legs out with a kick.

The man with the crowbar lunges at me and swings. I slip and avoid the brunt of the blow, but the side of my head still gets dinged. He winds up and swings again—which, this time, I block with the camera. Its casing shatters but the lens is still intact, so I drop into a crouch and strike him right in the groin with it. A cheap shot, but an effective one.

Now it’s just me versus the man with the knife. He starts swiping at me wildly, frantically, but I keep moving and parrying and dodging. At last I manage to pummel the underside of his chin like an uppercut. I feel a few of his teeth crack as his legs buckle.

All three assailants—scruffy swamp men, two white, one black—are writhing and moaning on the street. I take a step back and try to catch my breath. I feel like total shit, but also pretty damn exhilarated, too. There’s nothing like escaping death to make a man feel alive.

But I’m practically drowning in confusion. Who are these goons? Are they just hired muscle to keep guard, or are they part of the terrorist cell themselves?

My head is spinning—and not just from the mystery. The spot that crowbar clocked me is throbbing. My ears are ringing, too. It almost sounds like police sirens.

Wait … shit. Those are sirens. Who the hell called the cops?

I have a thousand and one questions for these assholes. But I can’t be here when the fuzz arrives. It would ruin everything. At least I have the …

No, my camera’s destroyed, I don’t have the photos I took of Farzat and the others! And a peek inside my breast pocket reveals my voice recorder was smashed in the melee as well. Goddamnit! I can definitely try to reconstruct what I’ve seen and observed, but it’ll be a damn challenge.

With the sirens getting closer, I hop back into my Impala and speed off. Back on the road, I take stock. Despite the setbacks, I did stumble on what looked to be a secret terrorist meeting spot. Saw some additional suspects. And learned a whole lot.

I’m just not sure what.

CHAPTER 24

Arriving home, I open my front door and practically collapse right there in the entryway. With the adrenaline surge from the fight long over, the full agony of its aftermath is starting to hit me, hard.