tailgate doors. The entire cargo body was packed with oxygen and acetylene tanks, bags of aluminum nitrate and ammonium nitrate fertilizer, and truck batteries. Nestled in the center of it all was a small detonation device. The bomb was nearly identical to the two used to destroy the American embassies in Dar es Salaam and Nairobi exactly ten years ago, which killed 224 people, blinded 150, and injured thousands more.
Jahja nodded his approval. “Everybody else is ready?”
“Everybody is ready.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait until tomorrow,” Qasim said, smiling.
Chapter 12
Wednesday, December 25, 7:33 p.m.
Serengeti National Park, Tanzania
As soon as Scarlett stepped inside the tent she whirled on Sal. “Are you going to explain yourself?”
“Depends,” he said, doing the lip-shrug thing.
“That’s not the right answer.”
“What’s gotten you so worked up?”
“You know damn well. But if that’s how you want to play it, fine. ‘I wanted him in a talking mood,’” she said, repeating what he’d said on the phone word for word. “Or how about, ‘Tell him if we find out he’s lying, we’re going to—’” The words still made her skin crawl.
Had Sal threatened to kill someone?
It was unreal. And Danny would do it too, she thought. Whatever Sal told him to do, he would do. She was positive about that. He would kill someone’s grandmother if Sal told him to.
“Going to what, Sal?” she demanded.
He met her glare evenly. “Don Xi is a stubborn old mule. I had Danny smack him around a little. If he was lying, Danny was to smack him around some more. It’s as simple as that.”
She shook her head. “No, what you said, the way you said it, was worse than that.”
“You make it sound like a big conspiracy, Scarlett. Christ. If I sounded clandestine, it was because I didn’t want you or Cooper to overhear. Because one, it’s none of Cooper’s bloody business. And two, I knew it would only get you all worked up, like you are now.”
“I know what I heard,” she said stubbornly.
“You’re going way overboard here.”
“What did Don Xi tell Danny?”
“The name of the man who set the Prince Tower on fire.”
“And you wanted this information so you could . . . ?”
“What are you implying?”
“Danny’s going to kill him, isn’t he?”
“Don Xi?”
“Someone!” Scarlett blurted. “Don Xi. The man who set the fire. I don’t know! Don’t play dumb with me.”
Sal stared at her for a long moment. Then he turned away. He shrugged out of his jacket and micro fleece pullover. He messed leisurely through the clothes in his suitcase, chose a cashmere sweater, and pulled it on over his white undershirt. Finally he looked at her again. “I’m going to the other tent,” he said in an all-too-reasonable tone that infuriated her.
She stepped in front of his path. “You’re not walking away.”
“I’m not discussing this with you right now. You’re not thinking straight. Why don’t you go and lie down for a while?”
“Don’t patronize me, Sal,” she said icily. “Who are you?”
“Who am I?” he snapped, and something dangerous sparkled in his eyes, something she had only seen in their darkest fights. “You want my street name? My secret identity? Maybe you want to see the costume I wear at night when I go around having affairs and killing people? Because that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? The affair? You won’t drop it, will you? You’ll never drop it. You’ll never trust me again. Anytime something comes up—a late night at the office, a business trip, a phone conversation with Danny—you’re going to automatically think the worst. Well, fuck that. I don’t think I can deal with that.”
He shoved past her. Scarlett didn’t turn around. She heard him unzip the tent door and walk outside. Then she heard him stop.
“The reason I wanted the name of the man Don Xi hired to kill me,” he said over his shoulder, tersely,
Jahja nodded his approval. “Everybody else is ready?”
“Everybody is ready.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait until tomorrow,” Qasim said, smiling.
Chapter 12
Wednesday, December 25, 7:33 p.m.
Serengeti National Park, Tanzania
As soon as Scarlett stepped inside the tent she whirled on Sal. “Are you going to explain yourself?”
“Depends,” he said, doing the lip-shrug thing.
“That’s not the right answer.”
“What’s gotten you so worked up?”
“You know damn well. But if that’s how you want to play it, fine. ‘I wanted him in a talking mood,’” she said, repeating what he’d said on the phone word for word. “Or how about, ‘Tell him if we find out he’s lying, we’re going to—’” The words still made her skin crawl.
Had Sal threatened to kill someone?
It was unreal. And Danny would do it too, she thought. Whatever Sal told him to do, he would do. She was positive about that. He would kill someone’s grandmother if Sal told him to.
“Going to what, Sal?” she demanded.
He met her glare evenly. “Don Xi is a stubborn old mule. I had Danny smack him around a little. If he was lying, Danny was to smack him around some more. It’s as simple as that.”
She shook her head. “No, what you said, the way you said it, was worse than that.”
“You make it sound like a big conspiracy, Scarlett. Christ. If I sounded clandestine, it was because I didn’t want you or Cooper to overhear. Because one, it’s none of Cooper’s bloody business. And two, I knew it would only get you all worked up, like you are now.”
“I know what I heard,” she said stubbornly.
“You’re going way overboard here.”
“What did Don Xi tell Danny?”
“The name of the man who set the Prince Tower on fire.”
“And you wanted this information so you could . . . ?”
“What are you implying?”
“Danny’s going to kill him, isn’t he?”
“Don Xi?”
“Someone!” Scarlett blurted. “Don Xi. The man who set the fire. I don’t know! Don’t play dumb with me.”
Sal stared at her for a long moment. Then he turned away. He shrugged out of his jacket and micro fleece pullover. He messed leisurely through the clothes in his suitcase, chose a cashmere sweater, and pulled it on over his white undershirt. Finally he looked at her again. “I’m going to the other tent,” he said in an all-too-reasonable tone that infuriated her.
She stepped in front of his path. “You’re not walking away.”
“I’m not discussing this with you right now. You’re not thinking straight. Why don’t you go and lie down for a while?”
“Don’t patronize me, Sal,” she said icily. “Who are you?”
“Who am I?” he snapped, and something dangerous sparkled in his eyes, something she had only seen in their darkest fights. “You want my street name? My secret identity? Maybe you want to see the costume I wear at night when I go around having affairs and killing people? Because that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? The affair? You won’t drop it, will you? You’ll never drop it. You’ll never trust me again. Anytime something comes up—a late night at the office, a business trip, a phone conversation with Danny—you’re going to automatically think the worst. Well, fuck that. I don’t think I can deal with that.”
He shoved past her. Scarlett didn’t turn around. She heard him unzip the tent door and walk outside. Then she heard him stop.
“The reason I wanted the name of the man Don Xi hired to kill me,” he said over his shoulder, tersely,
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