With barely contained rage, Rapp said, "Another bomb just went off."

"Where?"

Rapp told them and then put his hand on Paulson's shoulder and said, "Pull everybody out at the other two scenes, ASAP! Get on the horn and alert all levels, and get the bomb units in there to make sure these areas are cleared! That was supposed to have been taken care of right away." Rapp stared up at the chaos on the big board. They had practiced all this before. He had warned the people at Homeland that the terrorists would try something like this.

"There might be more?" Smith asked.

"We don't know. That's the problem." Almost as an afterthought, Rapp looked up toward the conference room and said, "But I think I know where I could find out."

Smith and Ciresi looked at each other and came to an agreement without exchanging words.

Ciresi looked at his watch and said, "We should go downstairs and get a cup of coffee," Ciresi said.

"Good idea." Smith handed Rapp his business card and said, "My mobile number is on there. Traffic is really bad out there. When the prisoners arrive, please give me a call."

Rapp nodded slowly and then said, "Will do."

CHAPTER 71

KARIM sat in the backseat of the Town Car, directly behind Hakim. It seemed to him that his friend was in a rather glum mood, considering how successful the day had been. He was used to being the one who brooded in an angry-faced silence, and found it rather uncomfortable when the shoe was on the other foot. He did not like his normally upbeat friend casting a pall over their victory. Karim wanted to clear the air, but there were only a few minutes before they got to the facility. There would be plenty of time after the attack, but they would not be alone. Ahmed would be with them.

Ahmed was the only one Karim would let live. They were close enough now to use radios, so Karim toggled the button and said, "Thomas, how does everything look?"

Four seconds later the radio crackled and a voice said, "Good. More people are arriving every minute."

Karim frowned and wondered if security was being increased. He would normally never ask such a question on an open channel, but at this point there wasn't much the Americans could do to stop them. "Has security increased?"

"A few more people are out patrolling the grounds, but nothing I can't handle."

"Good. We will see you shortly." Karim set the radio on the seat next to him and looked at Hakim's reflection in the rearview mirror. "The RV is ready?"

"Yes."

Karim thought of the plan. With any luck they would be in Canada by tomorrow afternoon. An RV loaded with provisions was waiting for them at a pole barn in Ashburn not more than twenty minutes up the road. "And how far can we make it before we have to stop for gas?"

"Iowa." Hakim offered him nothing more.

Karim was sick of his friend's pouting. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. You are like my brother. I know when something is bothering you. Tell me. I want to hear it."

"You have changed." Hakim hit the turn signal and took a left onto Dolley Madison Boulevard.

"We all change as we grow older."

"Not always for the better."

"I am not sure I like your implication," Karim said.

"And I know for a fact that I do not like how you have brainwashed these young men."

"I have brainwashed no one. These men are great warriors who are about to give their lives in the greatest struggle of our time," Karim said with absolute sincerity. "Do not demean them."

"I am not demeaning them. I am demeaning you. You have embraced this cult of death where you gleefully offer up the lives of others. And for what? To satisfy your own..." Hakim shook his head and stopped short of finishing his thought.

"Say it!" Karim demanded.

"I don't want to."

"Say it. I order you to tell me."

Hakim looked back in the mirror at his childhood friend. "We have always been equals. I see that is no longer the case."

"We are equals, but not in the middle of an operation. There can be only one commander."

"There are only two of us in this car. Just two friends who grew up together. One of us seems to have forgotten that."

"And one of us," Karim shot back, "has grown soft with all his travels."

"Soft," Hakim repeated the accusation. "I would rather grow soft than carelessly waste the lives of others."

Karim's jaw tightened. "I care about these men more than you will ever know."

"And you show it by sending them to their deaths."

"You are a fool." Karim grabbed the front passenger headrest and pulled himself forward. "We do not have billion-dollar planes and laser-guided bombs to fight with. This is how we must wage war. This is how we will defeat them. Six brave men are about to give their lives today, and you are too self-absorbed in your own emotions to admire their sacrifice."

"And you are too self-absorbed in your own greatness. If this is such a wonderful idea, then why aren't you going in with them?"

Karim threw himself back into his seat. Under his breath he was cursing his friend, and then himself for being so stupid to bother bringing this up. As they passed over the freeway that went to the airport, Karim saw the woods off to their left and the roofs of several buildings. "Don't miss the turn," he barked.

"I know where it is," Hakim shot back bitterly.

Karim thought about really giving it to him, but they didn't have the time. They were less than a minute from the facility. He grabbed the radio, pressed the transmit button, and said, "Thomas, we will be with you in less than sixty seconds. Do you copy?"

"Copy."

Karim looked behind them and saw the Suburban close on their tail as they took the left turn. They were only five hundred feet from the big looping service road that would take them up the hill. Karim said a quick prayer, and was relieved he had put Ahmed in the woods so he would have some eyes on the target. He imagined, for a second, how unnerving it would be to make this drive with no knowledge of what waited at the security point.

Hakim made the turn and accelerated. The Suburban followed close behind.

"Men," Karim said into the radio, "remember your training. Stay together, do not use the elevator, and go straight to your primary target."

The road swung around to the right, and then there it was. The six-story building looked no different from any of the other office buildings in the area. Even the guard shack up ahead seemed practical. Hakim turned left and stopped at the guard shack. As planned, he rolled down his window and pointed to the backseat. Karim began rolling his window down, and as the guard approached; he looked at him through his sunglasses, smiled, and shot him three times in the face. Before the guard had hit the ground, one of the men was out of the Suburban. He marched straight up to the bulletproof guard shack and stuck a block of C-4 on the door. Two guards sat on the other side of the thick glass, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Hakim gunned the engine, and the car raced forward. He pulled into a parking spur on the left just as they heard the explosion. A moment later, four shots rang out, and then a few seconds after that, the Suburban sped past with four of the men standing on the running boards and holding on to the luggage rack.

"Thomas, you may engage targets at will." Karim smiled with pride and made a last-minute decision. "Follow them."

Hakim turned around and looked at him with complete surprise. "But that is not part of the plan."

"I know, but I want to see them enter the building."

"This is not wise."

"We are fine. As you can see, they have been caught completely off guard. It is yet another sign of their arrogance."

"I'll drive up and we'll come right back out. You are not going to change your mind and go in with them."

"No," Karim said, patting him on the shoulder. "Go! I want to savor this great moment. I want to watch them enter the building."

Hakim took his foot off the brake and hit the gas. They drove to the corner of the building and took a hard left. Along this side of the building, two wings angled back to form a shallow V. The Suburban had jumped a curb, ran over a flagpole, and come to a halt approximately fifty feet from the front door. The men were in a straight line, weapons up, and heading toward the front door. A man and a woman came out and moved to the side to make room. The lead man in the conga line ignored them, but the second man swung his M-4 over and fired two quick shots, striking each person in the head.

"Look at them," Karim said, full of pride. He watched as the men disappeared into the building, and then he heard a steady stream of shots. His eyes traveled up the facade of the building to the sixth floor. That was where his men were headed. To the heart of America's war against Islam. This wouldn't get the media attention that the blasts would receive, but it would hurt the Americans far more. Karim could barely take the thrill of knowing that America's best and brightest were gathered at this very moment on the top floor of this building - their National Counterterrorism Center. They were gathered to manage this crisis, trying to find the very people who were now on their doorstep. The psychological blow would be devastating. If only he could be there to see the looks on the faces of the smug Americans as his men mowed them down.

"I'm leaving," Hakim announced.

"Wait," Karim said as he looked wild-eyed out the window. He heard the first explosion and felt the pull, the desire to join his men. The car began to move. "Just a little longer."

Hakim jammed his foot onto the break and turned around. "You either get out or we leave."

"Fine," Karim answered in a sad voice. "Go."

CHAPTER 72

RAPP was about to head back upstairs when Lonsdale came walking through the door with two Secret Service agents. The normally put-together and well-styled Lonsdale looked absolutely disheveled. As Rapp approached, he realized that she'd been crying. It dawned on him that she quite likely knew more about who was under that pile of rubble that used to be a favorite haunt of senators than anyone else in the building. A few of those people were also undoubtedly her friends.

Earlier in his career, Rapp would have never felt an ounce of compassion for this woman, but with age he had begun to realize that most of the players in this drama did not intend to do harm. They simply downplayed or ignored the threat. Some were naive and merely thought the terrorists would go away if we understood them better. Others, like Lonsdale, thought the letter of the law was the most important thing. That we as a nation must never lower ourselves to their level. In Rapp's world, where he saw up close the mayhem that these groups caused, the first sentiment was simply naive and the second, while honorable, was not very practical.

Rapp looked at her cheerless, bloodshot eyes and wondered if the murder of her fellow senators would cause her to see things differently now. "Senator Lonsdale," Rapp said in a polite voice, "thank you for coming."

Lonsdale looked nervously around the room, and said, "Where are they?"

"Excuse me?" Rapp said not understanding what she was talking about.

"The men you captured," she said, looking him in the eye for the first time. "I spoke with the president. He told me you have four men in custody."

Rapp wondered if any of these politicians knew how to keep their mouths shut. "Senator, maybe after we handle the video conference with al-Haq, I can..."

"I want to see them now!" Lonsdale said forcefully.

The force of her demand took Rapp aback. "I can assure you, they are being taken care of, ma'am."

Lonsdale clenched her fists and stepped to within a foot of Rapp. Looking up with her bloodshot eyes, she said, "I do not care about their welfare, Mr. Rapp. I want to see them right now."

Rapp was suddenly very curious to see how this would play out. "Fine... follow me."

After a couple steps he turned and told the Secret Service agents that they could stay put. It was bad enough he was bringing Lonsdale up. The last thing they needed was more men with badges. Lonsdale followed him up the spiral staircase in silence. When they reached the door to the conference room, Rapp knocked and said to Lonsdale, "Give me a second."

Rapp opened the door a crack and saw Aabad sitting at the far end of the heavy wooden table, cradling his right hand across his chest. Nash was sitting on the edge of the table, looming over Aabad. When Nash saw Rapp, he got up and walked over to the door. Rapp stepped in and shut the door.

"I'd told him he'd better give me something good before you get back up here or that other arm would get torn out of its socket. Now he's going on and on about these SWAT uniforms. He's admitted that there's nine other guys still out there."

"Nine," Rapp said, surprised by the number.

"Yeah, he says they are going to use these SWAT uniforms to get into and attack a federal facility."

There was a loud knock on the door. "That's Lonsdale. She wants to see him. Let's make this quick, and then we'll get this new info out." Rapp opened the door.

Lonsdale entered the room and looked down the length of the table at the small man who appeared to be grimacing in pain. "Who is he?" she asked in a cold voice.

"Aabad bin Baaz. Saudi national," Rapp said as he closed the door. He decided to leave out the part about the dual citizenship.

"I demand to see my attorney," Aabad said in a pleading voice.

"Is he responsible for the explosions?" Lonsdale asked.

"He's part of the cell."

Lonsdale approached the prisoner and asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"No," Aabad said with wide hopeful eyes.

"I'm Senator Barbara Lonsdale."

"I am an American citizen," he said earnestly.

Lonsdale ignored him. "Do you know where I was supposed to have lunch today?"

"No," he said with a confused face.