Angela stared off into the darkness. “As a matter of fact it was.”
Tiffany frowned. “But they’re in jail, so it couldn’t be the same ones.”
“They’re not in jail. The charges were dropped and they were released.”
“Dropped? Why?”
“Babington let them go.”
“Fuck,” Tiffany said under her breath.
Angela didn’t believe in coincidences. It had to be the same four.
She suddenly realized why they had tortured Barry.
FORTY
The city they drove through, like many cities in America, seemed run-down, neglected, and devoid of hope. Many of the places where Rafael had grown up were old, but they were old in a different way. They were old in a historic way, with buildings, monuments, and mosques that were many hundreds of years old. Some were thousands of years old. In his land, history lived in all of them. History never died.
Everything in these cities looked merely decades old and already they were unkempt and rotting. The people in America were weak. Their lives were aimless. They did not accept Allah.
Soon many would die under the withering light of the sun Rafael and his brothers would unleash on them.
Rafael spotted the beige Toyota off to the side of the parking lot of the convenience store. Because the building they owned where they would assemble the bomb was remote and difficult to find, Miguel had suggested they meet at the convenience store and then he would guide them to the building just outside town.
Rafael pulled his used cargo van into the lot and tapped the horn once. The cars that were escorting the van and protecting its cargo were spread out all around them. Some waited out on the street. Some were behind. Some were out ahead making sure they would not encounter any problems.
A hand extended up in recognition from the front passenger window. The four-door Toyota Camry turned on its headlights and pulled out in front of Rafael to lead the way.
As they left the lights of the city behind, the countryside became dark and forbidding. Rafael had never seen so many trees in all his life as he saw driving across the country. They came right up to the road all around. It was claustrophobic.
As was typical, Cassiel hadn’t spoken for hours. He silently watched the American landscape go by out his window.
“So,” Rafael said, “what do you think of America so far?”
Cassiel continued looking out the passenger window as he spoke. “I have been to America before.”
Rafael briefly glanced over as he turned a corner, following the Toyota onto a different road. “You have?”
Cassiel nodded. “As a matter of fact, I came to this very city, Milford Falls, several years back. It looks the same.”
Rafael was surprised to hear it. “Why were you here?”
Cassiel was still looking out the side window. “I came here to kill some people.”
Rafael glanced over to meet Cassiel’s gaze. “You should rejoice, then. You are about to have the chance to be part of killing many more people.”
Hasan had told him that Cassiel was a killer. In fact, he had been about to be put to death for killing a family in Iran, but Hasan thought that a man like that would be useful for their mission. Rafael didn’t agree. Every detail of their mission had been painstakingly planned and every need supplied. He didn’t see what Cassiel could add to their mission.
It felt more like he was babysitting a moody child than having the fellowship of a brother-in-arms.
The Toyota led them through a dark countryside until they entered what appeared to be an industrial area, but it looked long deserted. Rafael saw no cars, no people, no signs of life. The buildings were decaying and looked to have been abandoned for many, many years. Windows were broken out. Many of the walls had spray-painted words or symbols that made no sense. Where Rafael came from, people who did this kind of thing would be put in jail, or in work camps, or might even be put to death. But America was a land devoid of morality.
As they made their way through a maze of crumbling buildings, he saw sprawling areas surrounded by chain-link fencing and barbed wire. The whole place was a maze of ruins. Rafael realized that Miguel was right to suggest leading them in. He would never have been able to navigate the concrete labyrinth of American industrial decay on his own.
As they pulled up to the end of a large building with a curved roof and almost no windows, one of their men waiting outside jumped up and rolled a big door to the side. He waved the Toyota, Rafael’s van, and all the escort of vehicles inside. Because the building was so large, it swallowed all the cars and trucks, so that no one going past would have any idea that there was any activity inside.
There were only a few battery-powered work lights on, leaving most of the cavernous building dark. One of their men motioned to Rafael where to park to be in position for unloading. The Toyota parked off to the side.
When Rafael climbed out of the van, Miguel rushed up to greet him. The smiling man gripped Rafael by the sides of his arms, leaned in, and ceremonially kissed each cheek.
“We are so relieved that you have made it here safely, brother,” Emilio said. “We followed with great interest the glory you brought to us at the border crossing. It was a tremendous strike against the infidels.”
Rafael nodded. “It was everything we have planned for all these years. Esteban and Javier brought great glory to themselves and are now with Allah.”
A cheer went up for their martyred comrades.
Miguel regarded the stranger suspiciously. “Who is this?”
Rafael held out a hand. “This is Cassiel. Hasan assigned him to come with me. Cassiel has special talents that may be useful. He is an expert in a variety of weapons. I have been assured that he is lethal with all of them.”
Cassiel bowed his head to the men.
“You can all introduce yourselves later,” Rafael said. “For now, I would like to see your work.”
Miguel held out a hand in invitation. “I am sure you will be pleased to find everything ready for you. Here, on the floor, as you can see, we have the lead sections prepared.”
They looked just like the ones they had practiced making many times back in Iran under the watchful eyes of their technical trainers. Miguel moved on to a row of shelves.
“Once we completed the machining we moved everything here to be ready for final assembly.”
He handed Rafael one of the geometrically shaped pieces of Semtex. Assembled in a sphere around the outside of the lead tamper, they would form the explosive lens that would implode the plutonium pit to critical mass.
Rafael noted that they were as well made as those they practiced making many times.
“And here are the brass chimney sleeves. As you can see, the connectors for the detonators are already installed and awaiting the attachment of the EBW.”
“The exploding bridgewire arrived safely by courier?”
“Yes, of course,” Miguel said. “We laid it into the wiring loom. It is ready now for the final connections.”
Rafael caught Miguel’s brief sideways glance to Juan, Emilio, and Pedro, who were standing not far off to the side.
Rafael leaned in a little. “You did follow my instructions, didn’t you? Hasan wanted the courier eliminated. You followed the orders included with the EBW and killed the courier?”
“Well,” Miguel said as he fidgeted with the brass sleeve he was holding, “we certainly did follow your instructions. The courier was a woman who works for herself.” He gestured offhandedly. “We hanged her.”
“You hanged her.” Rafael looked to the sheepish faces of the other three. “But you didn’t say if you killed her, as instructed.”
“We beat her so she was hardly conscious and then we put a rope around her neck. We hanged her up by her neck”—Miguel gestured off to his right—“over at the other place where we did the machining. We had things we needed to do over here, so we left her hanging there by her neck to choke to death.”