“I understand, but this could still play out in your favor.”
“Meaning?”
“According to our source, McQueen is in a coma. He may never regain consciousness. And at least one of his team members was also injured in the blast.”
“Not good enough,” Sadiq growled. “This man was responsible for my brother’s arrest. Because of him, Asad is rotting away in some American hole instead of sitting in his rightful place as head of the Syrian people.”
It had been less than three months since the video of his brother discussing how he’d ordered the initiation of deadly riots in the streets of Djibouti. Asad had also been caught bragging about how he was behind several other attacks on surrounding countries.
An American reporter had happened upon the scene. He’d overheard the conversation and recorded it. But instead of turning it over to authorities, he’d stupidly used it to blackmail Asad.
But Asad was no fool. He and his men had designed the perfect plan to kill the greedy reporter, using one of their very own riots to cover it up.
Unfortunately, that plan was disrupted by an American civilian operative working for Homeland Security.
That man was Jake McQueen.
According to Sadiq’s source—an American agent willing to sell out his country and his soul for money—McQueen was the man who’d turned over the damning video that led to Asad’s arrest.
At first, Sadiq had been suspicious when this source made his initial contact. He was fearful it was all an elaborate set-up by the Americans.
But then the traitorous agent passed along information only Asad and Sadiq could know. Personal information that would have meant Sadiq’s immediate arrest, had the agent been playing some sort of undercover game.
Once trust had been established, it was only a matter of time before Sadiq had all the intel needed to form a plan. One that would allow him to not only extract revenge for his brother’s disgusting treatment by the Americans, but also the opportunity to bring himself forward as part of the Al-Karim lineage.
“Asad wasthisclose to finally gaining the power and status that is rightfully his,” Sadiq told the man on the phone. “Power that will eventually be passed on tome. It is still possible, but only if we show the world what happens to those who dare bring harm to my family. And that means killing McQueen. It is your job to make sure that happens.”
“Not possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“The hospital he’s in is owned by Homeland. The security there is impenetrable, and they’re watching McQueen’s room much too closely.”
“You work for Homeland.”
“Which means I could be recognized. That’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”
Sadiq opened his mouth, ready to make his feelings on the man’s pessimistic attitude known, when the other man spoke up again.
“But there may be another way.”
“Go on.”
“I understand what McQueen’s execution would have meant for your cause. And may I remind you, his demise may very well still be imminent.”
“My patience is wearing thin,” Sadiq remindedhim. “Get to your point.”
“We can still accomplish the same goal as before. Show the world, what sort of consequence they face should they choose to interfere with your family business in the future.”
“Explain. And do it quickly.”
“McQueen destroyed the empire your brother spent his whole life building. I say we destroy his.”
Sadiq thought for a moment. “You’re talking about going after his team.”
“I am,” the man stated.
His pulse began to race. Though he refused to admit it to the man on the other end of the phone, this idea was even better than singling out McQueen.