He quivered with terror. “You are going to kill me?”

  Nolan smiled. “Let him go, Brad. If you help us, soldier, we’ll let you live.”

  He nodded. “I will help you identify them. I know them both, very well.”

  “Okay. Brad, stay here with our friend. If he tries to escape or make any noise, kill him.”

  Brad drew out his combat knife, and the man shivered violently. “Copy that, Chief, it’d be a pleasure.”

  The prisoner didn’t see them exchange winks, as Nolan and Dave Eisner eased back out onto the landing to check out the remainder of the bedrooms.

  There were four more doors to check out. Nolan estimated they were the master bedrooms, and each would have its own bathroom. If either of their targets were up here, it would be in one of them. Dave covered the landing behind them, in case anyone appeared suddenly out of one of the other rooms. He turned the knob and went into the first of the four rooms. Empty. He closed the door behind him and went on to the next. He put his hand on the knob and stopped; there was a voice coming from inside. A girl’s voice. He couldn’t make out what she said. She spoke in Arabic, of course. A man’s voice answered harshly, and he sounded angry. The girl sounded frightened. Probably some local whore imported to satisfy one of the officers. Or all of them. He looked at Dan.

  “We’ve got a couple of live ones in here. Man and a woman. Cover the landing. I’ll take them both.”

  Dan nodded. Nolan gripped the doorknob and opened it gently. The noise was louder; two people were arguing. About the whore’s fee? Yeah, probably. He pushed the door open all the way and went in. The scene that greeted him both sickened and amused him. A girl was tied to the old-fashioned brass bedstead, and her eyes were covered with a blindfold. Kneeling over her was a naked man. He was middle aged, flabby, his paunch hanging down. He held a riding crop, and the wheals on the girl’s body suggested he’d been using it on her. She was obviously pleading with him to stop as beneath the blindfold, tears were running down her face. It seemed the guy was trying to take more than he’d paid for.

  The man looked up and shouted something in Arabic. Then he noticed that Nolan wasn’t wearing the uniform of the Iranian military, and his angry expression faded to a mix of fear and cunning. His eyes flicked over Nolan, checking out the uniform and the weapons.

  “You are an American. What are you doing here?”

  Nolan was about to reply when the guy made a grab for the drawer in the bedside table. He shot him twice with the Sig, one in the head and one in the chest. The guy fell on top of the whore and lay still. She screamed. He ran forward and put his hand over her mouth.

  “Be quiet, I’ll get you out of this. You’re not in any danger. I’m about to untie you.”

  Using one hand, he dragged the body off her and lowered it to the floor. He took his other hand off her mouth slowly, but she didn’t try to cry out, so he removed it completely and took off her blindfold. And did a double take.

  “Mitra!”

  “Kyle! You came for me!”

  He nodded and started to untie her. He couldn’t lie.

  “We came to kill a couple of guys who’re behind the weapons program, the one at Goldiz. Mohammed Saradi and Colonel Radan.”

  “This is Mohammed Saradi. Is he dead?”

  “Yeah, he’s gone.”

  “Good. The pig wanted to take me away with him and make me his third wife. I refused, and this is what happened.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen now. All he has now is widows.”

  “My father, do you know what happened to him?”

  “He’s with us. He’s okay. We’ll take you both out with us.”

  She managed a wan smile. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah. Are there any more people in these bedrooms?”

  She shook her head. When that pig dragged me up here, Colonel Radan was downstairs with two of his officers.”

  “Okay.”

  He touched his mic. “This is Nolan, all clear up here. One target down, Mohammed Saradi. Second target assumed to be on first floor. Prisoner reports three hostiles present in house, Radan is one of them.”

  The reply was a whisper. “Copy that, Chief, three hostiles. We’re outside some kind of a conference room now. We’ve searched the rest of the house. They have to be in there. Bring down that prisoner. We need to identify Radan before we leave.”

  “On the way.”

  He looked at Mitra, and she flushed.

  “You’d better get some clothes on.”

  “Thank you. Please, could I have a couple of minutes?”

  “No more, we have to make this fast.”

  “I will be quick.”

  He went out of the bedroom. Dan was waiting for him, and he explained about Mitra.

  “The bastard. You finished him?”

  “He was one of the targets, Mohammed Saradi. Yeah, he’s done.”

  And then Mitra came out of the bedroom. She was dressed in her own clothes, a long, flowing skirt and high-necked blouse covered by a shawl. She was barefooted. Her face was bruised, one eye was closed, and she limped slightly. But she was alive.

  “We need to go downstairs. Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Dan, bring up the rear. Mitra, you’ll be right behind me. Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.”

  “Thank you, Kyle.”

  “Yeah.” He poked his head through the bathroom door. “Brad, we’re moving. You can come on down. We found Mitra, and she’s going to identify the Colonel for us.”

  Brad gave him a meaningful look. “Is she okay?”

  “A bit knocked about, but she’ll be fine.”

  “That’s good news. What about this guy?”

  Nolan knew what he meant. He no longer had a use, so they could kill him, so there’d be no need worrying about him raising the alarm. But they’d done a deal. He had a sudden idea.

  “There’s a bedroom opposite. They were holding Mitra in there, tied to the bed. He can take her place. Give him a taste of their own medicine, and make sure you tie and gag him tight.”

  Brad chuckled. “You’re serious?”

  “If he complains, tell him he’s lucky you’re not using the riding crop on him, like they did on her. Join us downstairs, as soon as you’re done.”

  Brad nodded and pushed the prisoner across the landing.

  “Let’s move out.”

  They went down the staircase along a narrow hallway and found Talley and the rest of the men waiting at the end, in front of a heavy, leather padded door.

  “All secure up there, Chief?”

  “Affirmative. What’s the situation?”

  “The door’s locked from the inside. We can’t hear anything. It’s heavily soundproofed, but we’re certain they’re in there. As soon as we’re ready, Will is going to shoulder the door, and we’ll go in and take ‘em. It has to be our last action. If one of those guys in there gets a shot off, it’ll rouse the whole barracks.”

  He caught sight of Mitra behind him; saw her bruises and her eye shut tight. He kept his expression neutral and nodded at Will. “You ready?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m ready. Stand clear.”

  He walked ten paces away from the door, down the hallway, and motioned for the men to stand clear. They cocked their weapons and waited. And then he charged. The big, black man weighed almost two hundred and fifty pounds, unusual for a Seal. But it was all solid, dynamic, trained muscle. Wearing the flak vest over his uniform increased his body mass, and when he hit the door, it was like a charging rhino had run into it, unstoppable, irresistible. The door smashed open, and Will went hurtling inside. The Seals charged after him. The three soldiers inside looked up, startled. They were all in uniform, sat around a table, on which there was a map, in large scale. Nolan looked at it and whistled.

  “Jesus Christ, it’s the United States!”

  And then the shooting started. The man at the head of the table, a Colonel, presumably Radan, moved like lighting, snatching out a pistol and raising it to take aim. Two of the Seals shot him down, and before the other two officers could snatch out their pistols, they were riddled with pistol shots from the Sigs.

  “Call in Mitra, fast,” Talley shouted. “We need to confirm this guy, and then get out of here.”

  Seconds later, she walked into the room and shuddered at the sight of the bodies.

  “Is that him?” Talley asked, pointing at the Colonel’s corpse.

  She nodded. “Yes, I’d know…”

  “Infidels!” The man came out of a side door, partially hidden behind a row of filing cabinets. He was some kind of a servant. But he was also a soldier, a member of the Pasdaran. He held an AKM, and he screamed at the Americans as he pulled the trigger. Nolan dived for Mitra, dragging her down out of the line of fire. The Seals ripped the man to shreds with a dozen shots from the suppressed Sigs. But the damage was done. The AKM had got off nine or ten shots that echoed through the house. And couldn’t have been missed in the barracks.

  “Out, get out now!” Talley shouted. They surged out of the room into the passageway. Nolan dragged Mitra along with him as he ran. The Lieutenant keyed the mic and pelted for the front door.

  “Bravo Four, Zeke, you have any luck with the transport?”

  The reply was immediate. “Yeah, no sweat. I’m in the cab of one of their vehicles. It’s about the size of our deuce and a half, big enough for all of us. The engine’s still warm, so it’s ready to go when you are.”

  “Pick us up outside the front door of the commander’s house, right away. We’re leaving.”

  “Yeah, I heard the shots and kinda figured that out. I’ll be right there.”

  They ran out of the door, just as Zeke pulled up in the truck. Nolan recognized the type, a Kraz, built in the Ukraine, part of the former Soviet Union. This one was a six-wheeler, with drive to all six wheels. They may well need that kind of capability if they were to get out of here and across the border into Afghanistan. Talley jumped into the passenger side of the cab, and the vehicle started to move. Nolan threw Mitra over the tailboard into the back as one of the Seals grabbed her and pulled her inside. A hand came down and helped him up and over the tailboard. Nolan looked around quickly, noting they were already leveling their rifles ready to fight their way out. He keyed his mic.

  “Boss, stop for Vince. He’s on top of another vehicle by the gas pumps.”

  “Copy that.”

  The truck tilted violently as Zeke spun the wheel, and they headed for the pumps. Vince was already climbing down. He jumped on the back of the truck as it slowed, and they hauled him on board. Lights were coming on in the barracks, and already soldiers were running to their stations. Zeke hit the gas pedal and drove out of the gate, keeping the vehicle lights off. He drove the short distance across the street and turned into the old film studios. They went to the ruined sound stage where they’d left Kareem and the wounded David Meir. The mullah had dragged the Israeli to the side of the building, out of sight of the doors. When the truck stopped, and the Seals dropped out and called for him, he ran forward.

  “I thought I’d never see you again. This man needs to get to a hospital. His wounds have started bleeding again.”

  “We’ll put him in back,” Nolan replied. “Let’s help you up, first. There’s a surprise waiting for you inside.”

  “A surprise?”

  They almost threw him over the tailgate, and Nolan followed.

  “Mitra! By all the stars, I thought I would never see you again.”

  “Father!” She threw herself into his arms. He gave her a quick hug and detached himself.

  “This man is wounded, and he needs attention. His wounds are bleeding. Can you help him?”

  “You know I have been trained in emergency procedures. I will do my best. What dressings do you have?”

  Nolan heard engines starting up and looked out of the door. Headlights were coming on across the road.

  The Pasdaran are getting ready to follow, but did they see us turn into the film studios?

  He used his night vision scope to get a better look, and immediately a soldier came into focus, pointing across the road in their direction. He keyed his mic.

  “Boss, they know we’re here. We have to move, now!”

  Zeke had kept the motor running. He gave a final look around to make sure they were all loaded, and then he revved the engine and headed for the gate. He swerved out onto the street and then threw a left, heading out of the city and into the desert. Nolan kept watch on the Pasdaran barracks. They had one slight advantage. The Iranians were leaderless, and it would take them some time to piece together what had happened and make decisions about what action to take. So far, they were milling around, dragging the men out of bed and warming up the engines. It would give them a few minutes start. Not a huge amount, but maybe enough to lose their pursuers. Maybe. He keyed his mic.

  “Boss, tell Zeke to stay well clear of that fallout. My guess is we need to head southeast and skirt the Turkmenistan border into Afghanistan. It’s the quickest route. I recall there’s a town called Torbat Jam. It’s about twenty-five miles from the border. If we pass to the south of the town, we should be able to find a crossing point.”

  A few seconds later, Zeke’s voice came on the commo. “I can see a road ahead of us, heading south east, Chief. What do you want me to do?”

  “If we take that road, we’ll be sitting ducks. Leave the road as soon as you can, and we’ll go across country. This baby shouldn’t have any problems handling the terrain.”

  “Copy that.”

  * * *

  The Kraz bumped and lurched as Zeke hauled the wheel over, heading out into the rough, desert country that marked the eastern part of Iran. The journey was interminable as they hit rocks and potholes, while Zeke fought to keep the Kraz in a straight line. They hit a particularly deep hole. Nolan figured it was probably a drainage ditch, and David groaned. Mitra held his head close to her soft breasts, trying to ease his pain. Nolan looked across at her, remembering when he’d been close her. A lifetime ago.

  “How is he?”

  “I think he’s stabilizing. The bleeding has stopped, and the morphine has reduced the pain. He should be okay.”

  “I’ll be okay,” David said as he opened his eyes. “It’ll take more than that treacherous Arab bastard to kill me. What happened to him?”

  “He got away.”

  “Damn. He’s responsible for a lot of deaths. How did you find out?”

  “We saw that photo they faxed, of the real Abdul Hussein.”

  “Yeah, he fooled me, for a while at least.”

  “Who is he?” Nolan asked.

  “I don’t know his real name. I believe he works for Oghab 2, the counter-intelligence agency responsible for protecting their nuclear facilities.”

  “And who are you, David? Who do you work for?”

  The Israeli winced. “I guess you have a right to know. Several years ago, our Prime Minister Ehud Olmert was unhappy with the performance of Mossad. They’d made a hash of more than one mission that was vital to the security of the State of Israel, and the Lebanon operation was a disaster. A number of murderers escaped long prison sentences, so he set up a new unit to undertake some of the more sensitive missions. I guess you’d call us troubleshooters.”

  “So you’re spies and assassins.”

  He smiled. “It’s not exactly how I would describe my work.” He winced as the truck hit another bad pothole. Then he smiled again, trying to cover his moment of weakness. “But yes, that’s part of what we do. Hunting down traitors, scientists who’ve sold their knowledge to our enemies to build weapons of mass destruction, infiltrators.”

  “And killing them.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. Isn’t that the kind of work you Navy Seals do?”

  “I guess so, at least sometimes. We go where they send us.”

  Mitra gave him another injection of morphine to ease the pain, and the Israeli lapsed into unconsciousness again. Nolan heard Talley’s voice through his earpiece.

  “How’s it looking, Chief? Any sign of them?”

  “Nothing so far, but they’ll be out looking for us. Can we get to the border before dawn?”

  “That’s a negative. We’ve lost a lot of time. Zeke’s taken a detour to avoid the fallout area, and to keep off the highway. I estimate we’ll be a few miles short of Torbat Jam by dawn.”

  “Copy that. We’ll need to find somewhere to hole up. What’s the terrain look like up front?”

  “Sand and rocks. Nothing that helps us so far, but there’s a range of low hills before we reach the town. We should be able to find somewhere there to hide out. Keep a sharp eye out. Their aircraft have their own night vision systems. They could still find us before we can get out of sight.”

  “Understood, I’ll pass it on.”

  Nolan spoke to the men, and Vince switched on his night vision scope and began to sweep the sky around them. There was little they could do but plow on and hope they weren’t detected. They carried on bumping over the rough, desert floor for another hour, and Nolan began to hope they might make it without being seen. There was no sign of pursuit, and no evidence of aircraft out looking for them. David woke up, and Mitra spent a lot of time talking quietly to him. It seemed an odd combination, a Muslim Iranian, daughter of a Mullah, and an Israeli special operations man, dedicated to killing the Muslim enemies of his country. Which included most Iranians.

  At least they’re talking, he mused. Maybe if their respective nations did more of that, there might be less violence in the Middle East. Probably not, though. Some Muslims seemed to gravitate towards violence, like, well, flies to a turd.

  “This is not good, traveling in this direction,” Mitra said, looking up at him.

  He returned her gaze. “What’s the problem? This is the only way we can travel, other than the main highway, and that would be suicide.”

  “And you think they don’t know that?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, they’ll soon work it out. But we can’t invent a route that doesn’t exist. It’s either cross-country or the highway. There aren’t any other choices.”