Feeling dread, Jack scanned the perimeter, searching for Maxine. With relief that brought tears to his eyes, he saw her climbing to her feet, staring down at her battered video camera in limp shock.
As if suddenly remembering she had a coworker, she froze halfway to her feet, turned suddenly, and peered along the street. She made eye contact with Jack and, as though she had completed a minichecklist-camera, partner-she collapsed.
Dodging flaming pieces of fabric and paper that were floating carelessly from above, Jack made his way toward ground zero.
3
The line was picked up after three rings. The cell phones were encrypted using a Twofish algorithm and a 4096-bit Diffie-Hellman key exchange.
No one would be listening in.
“We have a problem,” the caller said. “There was an incident downtown.”
A pause. “The carjacking?”
“You heard about it.”
“It’s all over the news. Don’t tell me that was us.”
“The car was stolen from one of our assets, Abdal al-Fida. He decided to take a little trip off the reservation.”
“What’s our exposure?”
“He’s alive but he isn’t in custody, so I think we’re in the clear. He outsourced the supplies he used, but that’ll be taken care of by morning.”
“Where is he?”
“Still in the city. He’s been in contact and, to his credit, he seems remorseful. What would you like me to do with him?”
“What I’d like and what’s prudent are very different things. Can we rely on his cooperation?”
“I think so.”
“Good. I’d rather we not do this here. Wipe all trace of him and send him home. We’ll deal with him later.”
“Why not deal with him now?”
“He’s one of Zuabi’s recruits. Things could get sticky.”
“What about the investigation? The scrutiny could compromise our operation.”