The Enemy Within

Halovic had exactly the right mix of cool calculation and daring required to conduct the covert war Taleh envisioned. Training and preparation could only carry one so far, the general thought. They had to be built on God-given talents…

Taleh brought himself up short. He sounded more like a proud father than a military commander. Halovic and his men were weapons to be saved if possible, to be expended if necessary. They existed only to serve God and Islam. To serve as he himself served and to lay down their lives for the greater good of all the Faithful.

He rubbed briskly at weary eyes. Too many days spent away from the sun and fresh air were exacting a toll on his endurance. Perhaps he should pay heed to Kazemi’s nagging suggestions that he take more rest.

With an impatient snort at the weak longings of his own mind, Taleh thrust the thought away. He flipped through another report and then another, searching as always for signs of trouble that he had not anticipated. There were none. At least none of any consequence. No matter how hard he looked, he could see no indication that his plans had been discovered. The Americans seemed utterly unaware of the invaders hidden in their midst.

When he had finished, the Iranian general sat in silence at his desk, feeling again the sheer exultation of the great power he tad harnessed. The arrow he had fitted to his bow was drawn tight, straining to be free, to fly toward the heart of his foes.

The Americans were rich. Then Taleh would strike at their wealth. The Americans had pushed their God aside in favor of a life of ease and materialism. So be it. He would strip them of ease and turn their goods into the instruments of their own destruction.

He closed his eyes, savoring the prospect. It would be as God willed.

CHAPTER 9 MISFIRE

SEPTEMBER 27

HRT headquarters, Quantico, Virginia.

Helen Gray lay alone under her covers in that warm, comfortable zone halfway between drowsy wakefulness and true sleep. After the focused intensity of every day on duty, the chance to let her thoughts and feelings run free at night was a luxury she prized. In the peaceful darkness she had nothing to prove and no one to impress.

The clean, crisp smell of pine drifted in through the window she had left cracked open, caught and carried by a cool breeze blowing off the nearby Potomac. She burrowed deeper under the blankets. Autumn was on the way, and though the days were still warm, the nights were growing steadily colder. Helicopters clattered somewhere off to the north, muffled by the distance and the forests crowding both sides of the river. The familiar sounds meant the marines based at Quantico were practicing night flying again.

The FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team had its headquarters on the edge of the Bureau’s wooded Quantico academy campus. Firing ranges, an old airliner, and a smaller version of the Delta Force killing house gave team members a chance to hone their specialised skills. Beyond the ranges, a central building provided administrative offices, conference rooms, and temporary living quarters for HRT sections rotating through for refresher training or on routine alert.

As a section leader and one of the HRT’s only women agents, Helen had a room all to herself. It wasn’t fancy. Just a place to wash up and bunk in some privacy during the days and nights when she and her men took their turn as the team’s ready-response force. A duffel bag beside the single bed held her gear, sidearm, and a change of clothes. Nothing else.

Not that she would mind having Peter Thorn here beside her right now, she realised. They’d known each other for only a few months, but Helen was already growing used to having him with her at night. She smiled drowsily at the thought of sneaking him into her room past her fellow agents. That would certainly shatter her Bureau reputation as an “ice maiden” once and for all!

Thoughts of Peter spun away in a dozen different directions.

She loved the way his face lit up when he smiled at her a sunburst of joy on a face normally so serious and reserved. Or the catch in his voice when he shared memories of his childhood and his father with her, revealing a vulnerability he kept hidden from others. Their time together had been a revelation for both of them as each learned to lower carefully constructed defences, discovering the intense pleasure two people could find in shared laughter and comfortable silence, and the touch of hand on hand, body on body.

But it was also confusing. She was having to face questions she’d been avoiding ever since leaving the Academy for her first assignment. What did she really want? A husband? Or something less? She had sacrificed much for her career. Could she risk all she had won for the love of a man? Even this man?