The Enemy Within

“I’d like to move in after midnight,” she said calmly. “We’ll have a better chance of catching these people asleep, or at least at a low ebb, then.”

Flynn nodded his understanding and approval. “I can buy that much time from the Director.”

“Good.” Helen paused briefly, thinking again, and then went on. “That should also allow us to covertly evacuate the nearest neighbors. I don’t like increasing the chances that we’ll be spotted, but I think it’s imperative. If there are terrorists inside, we have to accept that they have heavy weapons and that they’ll use them if they get the chance. I don’t want civilians caught in the cross fire if we can help it.”

“Agreed. Anything else for now?”

When Helen shook her head, Flynn checked his watch and stood up.

“Okay, then let’s start moving things into place. The clock is running fast on this one.”

Determined not to be left wholly on the sidelines, Thorn leaned forward. “I have one request, Mike. With your permission, I want to ride along as an observer.”

The senior FBI agent stared hard at him for a moment before replying. Then Flynn glanced at Helen, obviously making sure she had no objections. Finally, he nodded abruptly. “Okay, Pete. I guess you’ve earned the right to be in on the kill. We’ll find you a place in the command van.”

Thorn sat back, partially satisfied. He couldn’t do anything to reduce the risks she’d be running, but he knew he’d feel better if he were at least close by.

Much as he longed to lead the planned raid himself, he couldn’t think of anyone better qualified for the assignment than Helen. She had more tactical ability, fighting skill, and sheer guts than anyone else in the FBI or even in the Delta Force for that matter.

Amazing. Six months ago, he would never have imagined himself thinking that of a woman any woman. And now he couldn’t imagine being left without her.

DECEMBER 5

Arlington, Virginia

Somewhere off in the distance, a church bell chimed once and fell silent.

Despite her Nomex-coveralls and body armor, Helen Gray shivered. It was well below freezing outside and the need to stay motionless only intensified the cold. She lay burrowed in a hedge bordering the street and sidewalk across from the suspected terrorist hideout. Her post offered her a good view of the front of the house.

She studied it carefully, looking for the slightest evidence of anything wrong anything that might indicate they had been spotted. Even with her night vision goggles down, she couldn’t see anything out of place. From the outside at least, the house appeared a perfectly ordinary suburban dwelling, identical to thousands of others throughout northern Virginia all the way from its sloping shingle roof to its redbrick walls and the white trim around its curtained windows. There were no lights showing behind those curtains.

Well, Helen thought coolly, it was time to find out exactly what was hidden inside that quiet house.

She keyed her mike and whispered, “All Sierra units, this is Sierra One. Everybody set?”

Voices ghosted through her earphones as her teams checked in, one right after the other. Sierra Three and Four, Paul Frazer and Tim Brett, were around the back, poised to enter through the rear door on her signal. Five and Six, Frank Jackson and Gary Ricks, were crouched behind the rear of the Ford minivan parked in the driveway. They would take the front door. Sierra Two, Felipe DeGarza, lay prone beside her as a reserve. Her own two-man sniper teams, Byrne and Voss, and Horowitz and Emery, occupied positions in the surrounding homes.

She would have preferred to lead the assault teams herself, but with the situation still so murky, Flynn wanted her in a position to exercise tighter tactical control over her sections if things didn’t go according to plan. Leading from the rear wasn’t her style, but orders were orders.

The head of the FBI task force wasn’t taking many chances. As a safeguard against an attempted breakout by the suspects, he had deployed a cordon of local police and other special agents in a wide net around the neighborhood. He even had a Blackhawk helicopter standing by on the local elementary school’s playground prepped for immediate flight if a pursuit became necessary. From the absence of any media nearby, she guessed that Flynn had also stomped hard on the Attorney General’s notorious tendency to curry favorable publicity.

Helen took a deep breath. Her next signal would open the ball. “Hotel One, this is Sierra One. We’re ready. Initiate shutdown sequence,” she said softly.

“Roger, Sierra,” she heard Flynn say.

Helen clicked her mike again. “All Sierra units, stand by. Wait for my mark.”

She waited without moving for the next reports to be repeated over the command circuit. It was crucial to take the suspected terrorists out while they were deaf, dumb, and blind. CompuNet already had instructions to block incoming and outgoing E-mail from the target address. Now it was time to take more direct measures.

“Landlines down.”