Archer clicked the phone’s screen dark again without replying; there was no need to. He watched as the president’s helicopter settled onto the secure, makeshift landing pad that had been constructed to accommodate it for the opening ceremonies. The gun ships hovered protectively overhead, their rotor wash whipping dirt and debris into a swirling cloud.

If the day had been too windy for the chopper to land, he mused, all his plans might have been for naught. Even the fates smiled upon him. He could feel his father’s presence nearby, approving as well, understanding the need for his own death so that a great destiny could be achieved.

Middleton listened to the Indian cabinet minister say after his introductory remarks, “Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure, on this joyous and momentous day, to introduce the President of the United States!”

Middleton wasn’t watching when the president mounted the stage to tumultuous, ground-shaking cheers and applause from the assembled throngs. Instead he stood alongside Chernayev, sifting through the crowd with his eyes searching for Umer or any of Archer’s men, for that matter. The vast sea of humanity gave up nothing. As the president began reading from his prepared remarks on the dam opening, Middleton continued his gradual progress through the crowd, angling toward the jam-packed and roped-off area reserved for the press corps. Cameras flashed and whirred, some no smaller than a palm, recording the president’s every word and gesture.

How would I do it?

Middleton tried to place himself in Archer’s shoes. The thermobaric explosives he’d managed to obtain had never been intended to blow up the dam itself—that much was obvious. What wasn’t obvious was what did that leave? The stage and amphitheater platform itself had been dutifully checked for all varieties of explosive to no avail. Which meant . . . Which meant . . .

The explosives had never been here in the first place. And that could only mean Archer had concocted a plan to bring them in through other means, after the speeches had begun.

“On this day, I stand before you representing India’s staunchest and foremost ally, prepared to welcome in a new age of energy independence that has come to your doorstep . . . ”

Middleton gazed up at the helicopter gun ships that had taken positions too high in the sky to render them dangerous to the president if they exploded. So what did that leave?

Fifty men, he thought, if I had fifty men how would I utilize them? Layering the thermobaric explosives into suicide bomber vests would have been a possibility, had everyone who entered not been required to pass through portable detectors. So what did that leave?

Fifty men . . .

“Nothing,” Chernayev reported, receiving another report over his nearly undetectable earpiece.