“Moved? Yes, he should be moved—straight to Kazakov,” Zuwayy said. “This might be our chance to get back in his good graces. Where is he now?”

“The interrogation center,” Fazani said. “It should be useful for us to interrogate him as much as possible before we turn him over. He might be able to give us a lot of information on Egyptian defenses as well as exactly what he used to attack all our bases. And if we can find out who he works for, maybe they’ll pay even more to get him back than Kazakov will.” Zuwayy got unsteadily to his feet; Fazani practically had to catch him to keep him from falling over. “Why don’t you let me handle McLanahan, Jadallah? Give me some time to see what he’ll do. If he’s as tough as his men we captured, it might be easier just to hand him over to Kazakov; but if we can break him quickly, maybe we can explore alternate opportunities.”

“Ma’lesh, ma'lesh,” Zuwayy said. He returned to his chair and collapsed into it. “You and Juma take care of it. I’ll be okay in a few hours.” Fazani was thankful Zuwayy didn’t put up a fight about that, and he headed for the door. But just before he left, Zuwayy shouted behind him, “Wait, Tahir! Did you say you were going to take him to the interrogation center?”

“Na'am.”

“Did you search him first?”

“Of course. We found disguises, fake travel documents, a gun .. .”

“What about a radio?”

“We found a radio too.”

“A small one? A very small one?”

Now Fazani was getting anxious. He turned back toward Zuwayy. “Well... yes, it was small,” he asked. “Palmsized, smaller than anything I’ve ever—”

“No, you idiot, I mean small, like a tack or brad!”

“What are you talking about, Jadallah?”

“The woman, the other McLanahan—she had some kind of transceiver implanted in her arm!” Zuwayy shouted. “If this one has one too . . .”

“Then they know exactly where he is,” Fazani muttered. “God ... he was doing a probe, and he’s led his forces right to us!”

“Get that transceiver off of him—I don’t care if you have to cut all his limbs off!” Zuwayy shouted. “And then evacuate this entire facility right—!”

And at that moment, the first explosion shook the Presidential Palace like an earthquake.

Sirens and alarms sounded everywhere. Zuwayy was immediately escorted—dragged might be more accurate— through one of the myriad of escape tunnels that led from the Presidential Palace to the Ginayna, the maze of rooms, prisons, and military barracks under the city of Tripoli. He ran virtually headlong into Tahir Fazani and Juma Mahmud Hijazi, also running for their lives.

“Unidentified aircraft detected all around the city,” Fazani said to Zuwayy. “It looks like a massive attack— perhaps the entire Egyptian air force!”