the crest of a low foothill that fronted the ranch. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Allah was surely watching over them.
“It appears as if one of the lambs is on the loose,” he said, keeping his voice low.
A helmeted officer wearing a desert camouflage uniform adorned with a full combat kit lay beside him. He had his own night vision lenses pressed to his eyes.
“Your orders?” he asked.
Abbas considered this. The woman had wandered directly toward them. She was only a couple hundred meters from their position. It appeared as though her chest was hitching with sobs. Her hands clutched her underbelly, as if she had stomach cramps. He panned the glasses back toward the structure. The big man and the dark man were heading back to the house. The children and the other man were still outside, but they posed no threat.
“I want her alive,” he said. “Quickly. Silently. Her friends must not be alerted.”
A twelve-man squad of elite Iranian shock commandos blended into the dark landscape behind the two men. An open-air jeep and old panel truck were parked behind them. Abbas had rented the vehicles while waiting for the team’s plane to land at the distant Puerto Peñasco airport.
The officer issued an order in Dari. Two of the men snapped on night vision combat goggles before disappearing like wraiths into the darkness. A third man crawled up the rise beside the officer. He tracked his two comrades through the high-powered scope of his sniper rifle.
While he waited, Abbas marveled at his leader’s ability to garner resources on the heels of the disaster at their mountain fortress. The sheikh was a master strategist whose multilayered plans contained a web of deception and ingenuity. Less than twelve hours after the American and his friends had disappeared over the vast Sonoran Desert, the sheikh had identified their exact location. Abbas swelled with pride.
He sucked in the sweet aromas of the dry desert air. They reminded him of his home in the foothills of the Hindu Kush. He thought of his younger brother who’d walked the land with him as a child, and who later fought beside him against the infidels. Carlo had idolized Abbas. When their father had been killed by an American mortar attack, Abbas had stepped up to fill the parental role. He’d taught his brother the way of the knife and the two of them struck back at the infidels at every opportunity. They had earned a lethal reputation among their peers and risen quickly in the sheikh ’s ranks.
Hatred surged within Abbas as he thought of the American killing Carlo by his own blade. Anger blurred his vision. He lowered the binoculars and rubbed his eyes. Though he knew he would eventually avenge his brother, he must resist doing so tonight. He would follow his orders from the sheikh to capture the American alive. Bronson would serve them well in the next few days as an integral part of the sheikh’s plan, but after that, Abbas thought with a smile, he will be made to watch as the woman is slowly tortured to death before him. Afterward, the American shall smell the reek of his own disembowelment.
Turning to the officer at his side, Abbas said, “We shall use the woman to lure out the American. I want them both alive.”
“And the rest?”
The sheikh had asked that they be kept alive, if possible, to use as a lever against the American’s cooperation. But Abbas knew in his heart that the woman would be enough.
“Kill them all.”
Chapter 22
The Sonoran Desert, Mexico
T he children, Max, and Bradley hurried in through the front door, ushered by an anxious Becker.
“I didn’t see Francesca outside,” Becker said. “Is she in here?”
“No,” Jake said. He slid another water bottle into the backpack he was stuffing.
“I called out to her,” Becker added, “but she didn’t answer.” He turned to go back out the door.
“Hold on. I’ll take care of it,” Jake said, handing the backpack to Lacey and
“It appears as if one of the lambs is on the loose,” he said, keeping his voice low.
A helmeted officer wearing a desert camouflage uniform adorned with a full combat kit lay beside him. He had his own night vision lenses pressed to his eyes.
“Your orders?” he asked.
Abbas considered this. The woman had wandered directly toward them. She was only a couple hundred meters from their position. It appeared as though her chest was hitching with sobs. Her hands clutched her underbelly, as if she had stomach cramps. He panned the glasses back toward the structure. The big man and the dark man were heading back to the house. The children and the other man were still outside, but they posed no threat.
“I want her alive,” he said. “Quickly. Silently. Her friends must not be alerted.”
A twelve-man squad of elite Iranian shock commandos blended into the dark landscape behind the two men. An open-air jeep and old panel truck were parked behind them. Abbas had rented the vehicles while waiting for the team’s plane to land at the distant Puerto Peñasco airport.
The officer issued an order in Dari. Two of the men snapped on night vision combat goggles before disappearing like wraiths into the darkness. A third man crawled up the rise beside the officer. He tracked his two comrades through the high-powered scope of his sniper rifle.
While he waited, Abbas marveled at his leader’s ability to garner resources on the heels of the disaster at their mountain fortress. The sheikh was a master strategist whose multilayered plans contained a web of deception and ingenuity. Less than twelve hours after the American and his friends had disappeared over the vast Sonoran Desert, the sheikh had identified their exact location. Abbas swelled with pride.
He sucked in the sweet aromas of the dry desert air. They reminded him of his home in the foothills of the Hindu Kush. He thought of his younger brother who’d walked the land with him as a child, and who later fought beside him against the infidels. Carlo had idolized Abbas. When their father had been killed by an American mortar attack, Abbas had stepped up to fill the parental role. He’d taught his brother the way of the knife and the two of them struck back at the infidels at every opportunity. They had earned a lethal reputation among their peers and risen quickly in the sheikh ’s ranks.
Hatred surged within Abbas as he thought of the American killing Carlo by his own blade. Anger blurred his vision. He lowered the binoculars and rubbed his eyes. Though he knew he would eventually avenge his brother, he must resist doing so tonight. He would follow his orders from the sheikh to capture the American alive. Bronson would serve them well in the next few days as an integral part of the sheikh’s plan, but after that, Abbas thought with a smile, he will be made to watch as the woman is slowly tortured to death before him. Afterward, the American shall smell the reek of his own disembowelment.
Turning to the officer at his side, Abbas said, “We shall use the woman to lure out the American. I want them both alive.”
“And the rest?”
The sheikh had asked that they be kept alive, if possible, to use as a lever against the American’s cooperation. But Abbas knew in his heart that the woman would be enough.
“Kill them all.”
Chapter 22
The Sonoran Desert, Mexico
T he children, Max, and Bradley hurried in through the front door, ushered by an anxious Becker.
“I didn’t see Francesca outside,” Becker said. “Is she in here?”
“No,” Jake said. He slid another water bottle into the backpack he was stuffing.
“I called out to her,” Becker added, “but she didn’t answer.” He turned to go back out the door.
“Hold on. I’ll take care of it,” Jake said, handing the backpack to Lacey and
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