Pandora's grave полностью

“As did every fashionably liberal law firm in the country,” Lay responded with forced humor. “We knew that when Sarami entered training. If you have nothing more to offer, director, I believe we will bring this conversation to a close.”

“I want my agent. Under the provisions of the CIA’s charter, your detention of him is illegal, and I want him released immediately unless you want action to be taken.”

The DCIA seemed unperturbed. “He was processed out five minutes ago. Sorry, Eric, but you need to get your act together before you start making threats. Good day.”

The screen went black and a heavy, awkward silence fell over the conference room. Lay sighed heavily. “What do we have, Ron?”

The analyst’s face was pained as he looked up from his computer. “It’s not good, boss. The Israelis have fingered al-Farouk as being responsible for the attack on our field team at Eilat, based on security footage showing him in the hotel forty-five minutes before the blast.”

Harry sat there in stunned disbelief. It wasn’t possible. That Davood had betrayed the team, betrayed their brotherhood…

He heard Lay ask, “Was Sarami cleared for the Eilat mission?”

“Yes,” Carter replied. “He was fully aware of operational details.”

Through the swirling fog of emotion, Harry heard his name called and looked up to see Lay staring at him. “I will need you to contact Hamid Zakiri and alert him to the new intelligence.”

“Sir,” Harry began, “with all due respect, I would like to protest this. I have served with Davood, I’ve fought side by side with him, for heaven’s sake! I don’t want to see him hung out to dry on evidence this circumstantial.”

The DCIA seemed to ponder his words. “Not before TALON, right?”

“Sir?”

“You had not served with Sarami prior to TALON, had you?”

“That is correct.”

“Your loyalty to your men is commendable,” Lay began slowly. “And I believe we need to work circumspectly here. We have thousands of dollars of training invested in Sarami. Should he be in fact innocent of the suspicion now fixed upon him, we do not want that money to go to waste. But we need to be careful. Sarami will continue to serve in the field-but I will be counting on you to keep an eye on him. You and your team, so I want you to contact Zakiri ASAP. Are we running the same play?”

“Yes, sir.”

5:35 P.M. Baghdad Time

Station Baghdad

Iraq

Memories. Hot water cascaded down Thomas’s body as he stood beneath the pulsating showerhead, his thoughts wandering unbidden.

I’m never gonna leave you. In his mind’s eye, he could still see her shattered body, lying there crumpled on the ground. Abandoned. He had lied. Even as he had held her in his arms, he had lied, knowing she was dying, knowing he must leave her.

He pushed the knob to turn the water off and slowly sank to the rough tile of the shower floor, feeling sick, like someone was twisting a knife inside him.

Her face rose before him, eyes full of recrimination and unanswered pleas. Calling out his name, a haunting entreaty. There was no help for it. How long he sat there, the water dripping down upon him from the showerhead, he would never know.

At long last, the silence was broken by the sound of his name being called. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming, then it came again. “Parker? Are you still in here?”

He hadn’t heard the door to the showers open or close, but it was Davood’s voice. “Yeah?”

“Petras is setting up for mission debrief. Are you ready?”

“Is there such a thing?” Thomas asked. Pain shot through his side as he rose and staggered to the door of the shower, peering through the evaporating steam. “Hand me a towel, will you?”

Davood handed him an old towel, averting his eyes as Thomas dried off, the body modesty characteristic of his Middle Eastern background coming to the fore.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“The death of your guide-the Kurdish woman. Such a waste.”

Thomas looked away, his face stiff and drawn. “Yeah. Could you throw my pants over here?”

“Sure thing. Petras is going to start wondering where we are.”

“Let’s go back to the events of the morning,” Rebecca Petras instructed, typing something into her laptop. Hamid shifted in his chair, the TACSAT buzzing suddenly in his ribs.

“Excuse me,” he said, smiling across the table at the assistant station chief. “I need to take this.”

“Can’t it wait?”

He rose from his seat, the TACSAT in his hand. “Afraid not.”

“I owe you one, Harry,” he announced with a laugh as the door closed behind him. “You just got me out of debrief with Petras.”

Harry wasn’t laughing. When he spoke, his voice was low and urgent. “Other business, Hamid. What went wrong?”

“The Iranians were tracking Parker-how I don’t know. Finding him in those mountains would have been like picking the proverbial needle out of the haystack.”

“Unless they had a source,” Harry replied.

“That could explain it, I suppose. Last I heard Langley hadn’t found the leak that blew TALON.”

“As of this morning they did.”

“Who?”

“Davood.”