Dark Waters Read Free Page A

this out.” Tom Daugherty gestured with the remote toward a TV mounted on the back wall of his office. “Can you believe this shit?”
    Jordan frowned at the images. An amateur video flashed across the screen. It showed a Middle Eastern square, dust billowing in the wake of panic. The voice-over wasn’t loud enough to drown out the screams. Most people were running or ducking for cover. A man and child had plastered themselves against the concrete wall that surrounded a fountain erupting in fire and water. To the right, two bodies lay on the ground. The photographer zoomed in.
    “What’s the newscaster saying?” Daugherty turned up the volume, as though decibels were synonymous with understanding.
    Jordan was surprised he didn’t speak Hebrew. She’d had to take a six-week immersion course in the language before being assigned to her post, and Daugherty had been here nearly two years. “There’s been a shooting,” she translated. “In Zinah Dizengoff Square. This feed is from a bystander’s cell phone.”
    “How many dead?”
    “She hasn’t said. Soldiers returned fire and have surrounded the building where they believe the sniper is hiding.”
    “They have the shooter pinned down?”
    “It’s unclear.” Jordan looked at Daugherty. With the secretary of state due to arrive in five days to oversee peace talks, the embassy was on maximum alert. “How far away is the square? Do we need to do something to protect the embassy?”
    “No.” His gaze never left the screen. “Dizengoff’s two clicks away. The Marines are ready in the event of an attack.”
    Jordan nodded and turned her attention back to the video. The female newscaster spoke again.
    “What’s she saying now?”
    “The shooting has stopped. Two confirmed dead.”
    “Then either the gunman is a very bad shot or he only wanted to kill certain people.”
    Jordan agreed.
    The photographer zoomed in and showed a close-up of a soldier turning over one of the bodies. Blood seeped from a gash on his neck, making his white shirt look as if it were tie-dyed red.
    “ That doesn’t look like a gunshot.” Jordan took note of his clothes and the cut of his hair. “Is he an American?” The State Department had recently issued a traveler’s warning. She looked to her RSO for direction. His face had gone slack.
    “What is it, sir?”
    “That’s Steven Cline.”
    It took her a moment to process the name. “The ARSO I’m replacing? Isn’t he supposed to be in Washington?”
    Daugherty picked up the phone. “Patsy, get Ambassador Linwood on the line, stat!” Then he turned to Jordan. “You wanted your first assignment? Well, here it is. Get your butt out there and figure out why my former ARSO is lying dead on a street in Tel Aviv instead of at home with his family in D.C.”

Chapter 5
    N ajm Tibi sat inside a cafe one block from Dizengoff Square and whispered a silent prayer to Allah that his own life had been spared. Muatab had not been so lucky, and Tibi grieved for his friend. They had accomplished the mission, but at what cost?
    Moments after hearing the first shot, Tibi had yanked the USB drive with the plans out of the American’s computer. He remembered staring down at his friend. Muatab never twitched. His eyes were open. Realizing there was nothing he could do, Tibi had turned to run, stumbled over the girl, and dropped the drives. Then, scooping them up, he had fled to safety nearby.
    He patted the zippered compartment of his computer sleeve, where he’d transferred the drives once he was out of range and positive he hadn’t been followed. Watching the drama unfold on the mounted television, his guilt over Muatab’s death grew. How could he have known they were walking into an ambush?
    The footage on the screen showed the shooting was over. Soldiers and police were gathering at the scene. He watched as the bodies were turned over. While gentle with the American, the soldiers flopped Muatab on the concrete like a fish on a rock.