Suicide Mission Read Free

didn’t have to make the call. Someone called him less than a minute later. He took out a similar sat phone and spoke into it in Russian. A pleased smile broke out on his face. He pocketed his phone and told Tariq, “The funds are in the Swiss account, as arranged. Our business is done.”
    â€œAs soon as I take possession of the device.”
    Dolgunov made an expansive gesture.
    Assad and the other man lifted the case from the truck and carried it toward the ridge. They disappeared over it.
    Still smiling, Dolgunov said, “As the Americans say, a pleasure doing business with you.”
    Tariq replied, “As the Americans say, go to hell, you Russian bastard.”
    Dolgunov’s smile vanished. He opened his mouth to say something, but before any words could emerge Tariq’s knife flashed in his hand as a blindingly fast stroke opened Dolgunov’s throat almost to the spine. Blood spurted several feet from the gaping wound and splashed onto the sand. Dolgunov collapsed.
    Tariq threw himself to the ground as the rocket fired from a nearby hilltop streaked through the air and slammed into the truck, engulfing it in a ball of fire. Tariq felt the heat and the concussion and knew he should have been farther away, but he had wanted to be close enough to Dolgunov to see the horror in the man’s eyes as death claimed him.
    The force of the blast knocked the other Russians to the ground. Tariq’s men opened fire on them before they could gather their wits about them. The streams of lead shredded them, chopping them into bloody heaps of flesh that barely looked human. Tariq didn’t raise his head until it was all over.
    Then he stood up, brushed himself off, and turned away from the carnage. The men Dolgunov worked for would be upset about this, but they had gotten their money, after all. That ought to be enough to mollify them. In the end, they would consider the deaths of Dolgunov and the other men as just part of their overhead, another cost of doing business.
    A few minutes later, with the suitcase nuke secure in one of the jeeps, Tariq and his fellow warriors drove away, leaving a column of black smoke from the burning truck climbing into the sky behind them.

C HAPTER 3
    Ciudad Acuña, Coahuila, Mexico
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    Alfredo Sanchez pushed the steel-framed glasses he wore back up his nose. They had a habit of sliding down, and he had thought more than once about getting contacts.
    He liked the glasses, though. He liked being able to take them off and have the world go soft and blurry around him for a moment. It was harder to see the ugly things that way. Life was reduced to a collage of bright colors, at least temporarily.
    But then he had to put the glasses back on and see the truth again.
    At the moment, the truth was that Pablo Estancia was a stupid fool.
    â€œYou brought them here?” Alfredo asked. His voice was cool and flat, revealing none of the inner turmoil he felt. He never revealed his true feelings unless it was absolutely necessary.
    Pablo’s heavy shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.
    â€œI thought you would like to question them yourself, amigo,” he said. “With so many important things coming up . . .”
    Alfredo ignored that. He knew that Pablo was just fishing for information. He considered himself an important man in the cartel and resented it whenever anything was kept from him.
    Pablo was important. Through a combination of brute force and animal cunning, he kept the pipelines of drugs and illegals moving smoothly in this area. But his abilities were limited to that. He had nothing to do with strategy and planning. Certainly not when it involved an operation as large and important as the one that Alfredo had put together.
    â€œSince they’re here, I’ll talk to them,” Alfredo said. “Bring them in.”
    Pablo nodded and left the room, which was large and well-furnished, like all the other rooms in this villa. An enormous