“Listen to me very clearly. Our mission was not to capture you. It was to kill you and Belyakov, but for reasons that don’t concern you, it changed, and I’m the one who changed it. So do yourself a favor and do what I tell you. Don’t make me regret my decision. Now, move.”

“All right already,” Moretti said, and started walking toward the end of the 250-foot stone breakwater.

Zack turned back toward the Range Rover and beckoned for Noah and Belyakov to follow. He heard the doors open and turned back to herd Moretti forward.

The two men quietly moved farther out on the slabs and reached the end of the first chunk of the breakwater. The entire structure resembled a concrete pier that had fractured into several uneven and unequal sections, some above and some below the next broken slab as parts of it had slowly begun to sink within the last decade. There was a three-foot gap, and Moretti stepped across it, glancing at the water several feet below. A warm wind rushed in from the ocean, and Moretti said, “You sure picked a nice day for a kidnapping.”

“Well,” Zack replied, “you picked a nice day for a lunch. We didn’t want to take you in Valetta. Too many civilians.”

“How kind of you,” Moretti said wryly.

Zack heard Noah urge on Belyakov behind him, confident that his teammate realized what was happening.

He glanced back, expecting Griffin to materialize behind them, but his boss was nowhere to be found. The thought of him triggered another sense of urgency to keep moving.

An older couple in their sixties, shorts and short-sleeve shirts flapping in the wind, stood on the next slab of concrete, staring at Moretti and the masked man who marched him forward. At least they’re not snapping pictures, Zack thought.

The man put his arm protectively around his wife, and Zack nodded at the husband, as if to reassure him there was nothing to worry about.

“Folks,” Moretti said, and managed a smile, appearing calmer than the petrified couple.

They were halfway to the end, and Zack glanced to his left, reassured by what he saw. “Keep moving, all the way. We don’t want to prolong this any more than we have to.”

“Are you even going to tell me what this is about? Or do I go to my death without knowing what I did that condemned me?”

“You’re making me repeat myself, which is seriously aggravating. Are you always this much of a pain in the ass? I’m surprised someone hasn’t killed you already,” Zack answered. “You’re not going to die—at least not by my hand, and likely not by our government’s, although I really can’t speak for the bureaucrats who give us orders. But I’ll give you a hint: Africa.”