Worthy poured himself a final cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot, then made his way back to the operations center.
He almost spilled the steaming contents of his mug when Ian brushed against him in the hallway, the intelligence operative struggling to carry a pair of fully loaded tactical vests on one shoulder with his suppressed HK416 slung over the other.
“Sorry,” Ian said.
Worthy stepped out of the way and asked, “You need some help?”
“No, we’ve got it.” Ian continued down the hall, followed in short order by Reilly with a kit bag in each hand. Worthy let the medic pass before continuing to the living room-slash-office, appraising the building interior with a certain sense of fond familiarity. After all their travels across Nigeria, the safehouse felt like home—and, he thought wryly, a home that they were about to leave once more.
They’d slept in at Tolu’s apartment the previous day, recovering from their lengthy incursion at Gradsek’s port facility before making the road trip back to Abuja. Much of their planning occurred in the back of the van, allowing them a six-hour rest cycle before departing for the next leg of their journey: a hair-raising twelve-hour jaunt northeast along Highway A3 toward the capital of Nigeria’s Borno State, Maiduguri.
Setting down his mug beside the keyboard, Worthy took a seat before the route imagery on the computer screen. He zoomed in on their location in Abuja, using the mouse to pan across their route a final time as he absently wondered what would be more dangerous, the 500-plus miles of road stretching into terrorist country or the destination itself.
On one hand, Maiduguri was the largest city in the northeast, equipped with its own airport, university, and even a zoo. But it was also the birthplace of Boko Haram, and while that explained why a major logistics and possibly command hub would be located there, it also meant that secretive strongholds of the terrorist organization were present in the city. Those pockets of safe haven didn’t stop Boko Haram from attacking other areas of Maiduguri, however, and they routinely conducted bombings and shooting attacks that had left a death toll of over a thousand within the city limits alone.
Besides, he thought, the real adventure would begin once they reached the target building.
He lifted his mug and took a sip of coffee. It was like a sucker punch to the throat—Ian had made this last batch, and nobody brewed it as strong as guys from the intelligence community. Still, this would likely be his last good cup for the foreseeable future, and Worthy intended to saturate his bloodstream with caffeine while he had the chance.
He continued panning across the route, finally arriving at an overhead view of Maiduguri and zooming in on their target building. If all went according to plan, he’d be inside it before sunrise tomorrow and, should his luck continue to play out, leaving alive.
This mission, like Lagos, was a clandestine intelligence collection, but it would be nothing like the Gradsek incursion. That had entailed tiptoeing through a facility with suppressed pistols while Agency hackers selectively deactivated cameras and motion sensors.
No, this time they’d be on their own—and the location dictated they come prepared for an all-out war.
Cancer, Reilly, and Ian were loading the van with the bulk of everything they’d brought into the country: weapons, ammunition, the full military arsenal that a five-man team was capable of employing. If Boko Haram detected their presence, they’d need all of it. Even with their loose cover as reporters for a niche news agency, any self-respecting terrorist element would be weighing the potential upside of spreading their message to major media channels against the benefit of trying to capture American hostages. The team would have to shoot their way out either way—the only question was when, and how long they could maintain the ruse.
That reality brought with it an odd juxtaposition of civilian and paramilitary elements. While everyone was attired in plainclothes rather than fatigues, David alone would be riding in the passenger seat with nothing more than a concealed pistol for immediate protection.
The rest of the team, however, would be in the back in “full battle rattle,” kitted out in anticipation of enemy checkpoints. After their last mission, the procedures to deal with those in remarkably fast and violent fashion had become almost second nature to the team.
He was surprised when David spoke behind him; Worthy hadn’t even heard him enter.
“How do you feel about this?”
Worthy turned to the team leader, attired in khaki cargo pants and an off-white safari shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, hands in his pockets. Just another reporter on assignment getting ready for the day, he thought as he looked back to the screen and replied.
“Everything past Potiskum is going to be the Wild West. Terrorist activity on the roads is sporadic, but with multiple Boko Haram factions operating as they please, anything is possible. Maybe no one messes with us, or maybe we’re slinging lead in a few hours. And that’s before we even get to Maiduguri, which is a whole other ball of wax.”
“Good,” David said, taking a seat beside him. “I was afraid this was going to be boring.”
“Well, it won’t be. That’s the one thing I can say for certain.” Pausing, he added, “This feels weird, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
Worthy looked at his team leader. “Getting such a long leash from Duchess. Usually we have to hide half of what we’re up to just so she doesn’t lose her mind. This time, she’s all about it.”
“Yeah,” David muttered, cupping his chin with one hand and going silent in an apparent moment of consideration. “And who knows what the fuck she’s up to. If we didn’t know what we were walking into before, then right now we’re flying completely blind.”
32
Reilly jolted in his seat as the van hit another highway pothole, then readjusted his position before peering through the windshield at the road ahead.
The woodlands and tall grass fields had long since slipped away to arid terrain that ranged from short grass savanna to sandy expanses mottled with patches of exposed stone. What little greenery remained consisted of sparse woods, scattered scrub brush, and patches of agricultural fields. Villages had been few and far between, and for the most part Reilly felt that making the trip in full kit—a mandate from David and Cancer for everyone in the back of the van—was overly cautious given the tremendous visibility in every direction. If any Boko Haram fighters happened to appear, the team would spot them a mile away.
Still, he couldn’t complain. Despite the long ride, he was basking in the air-conditioned vehicle interior while the sun-baked countryside roasted at a hundred degrees. If his team did get into enemy contact, Reilly only hoped it would occur after sunset when the temperature dropped to a far more civilized range.