Once they'd all unpacked their gear, they met in the con- 33.33.ference room. Harley Reno paced the room as he talked, while the others took seats on chairs and couches spread around the room.

"First, we need to set some ground rules for our search for El Farrar and his men," he said.

"Besides shoot first and ask questions later, what do we need to know?"

Coop asked, a lazy grin on his face.

"Rule number one," Harley continued, unfazed by Coop's joking, "is never to go out alone. I want us all to travel in groups of at least two."

When everyone nodded, he continued. "I also want us all to carry our cell phones at all times, and to immediately report any suspicious activities or persons to Corrie, who will be our liaison among the team.

That way, if you get into trouble, we'll know where you are- and can come running if needed." ; "Will we need to talk in code?" Jersey asked. "I know cell phones aren't particularly secure."

Corrie took the question. "Not with these, Jersey. They're keyed to the satellites that the U.S. doesn't have access codes to. However, just to be safe, I'd use a little common sense in what we say. We just don't know what technology this Desert Fox has up his sleeve."

"Third rule, always go armed,'' said Harley. "We don't think Farrar knows we're after hirq, but like Corrie says, we also don't know if he's got any spies in the SUSA that may have gotten wind of our mission, so be careful."

"If we see him or some of his cohorts, are we to take immediate action?"

Coop asked. "Or just report back and keep them under surveillance?"

"I'll leave that up to you. If we could capture one of his men alive, we might be able to interrogate him to find out more about their plans and capabilities, but if we do that, Farrar will suspect someone's on histrail and may go deeper undercover."

34."Do we have any photographs of him or any of his key officers?" Beth asked.

Harley shook his head. "Not since he was much younger, so they won't do us much good. We do think most if not all of his men are of Middle Eastern descent, so they are probably dark-skinned with black or dark brown hair."

"Blondes need not apply in his army, huh?" Jersey said.

"Not from what Intel tells us," Harley replied, "but we do think part of his mission here is to recruit disaffected U.S. citizens, especially military or FPPS personnel, to his cause. If he plans to invade the U.S., he's gonna need some spies on the inside in order for his campaign to do any good."

"From what I've seen of the situation over here," Coop said, "it shouldn't be too hard for him to find people willing to join his forces if it means getting rid of President Oster-man."

"That's Intel's take on it too, Coop."

Harley pinned a map of Indianapolis on the wall next to where he stood.

He put a box of different colored pushpins on a table in front of the map. "We'll mark all the areas we search with a blue pin if we find nothing suspicious. Areas we're not sure of will be marked with a yellow pin. If we find definite evidence of Farrar or any of his men, we'll mark those areas with red pins."

"While we're busy looking for this a.s.shole, are we going to try and do anything to protect Osterman?" Jersey asked.

Harley shook his head. "No, that's been ruled out. Ben had Mike Post contact her security team and tell them he had information that Farrar was a possible threat and asked if they needed any help. Of course they said no, they could handle it."

"So, what's our first move?" Beth asked.

"First, we're gonna scout out our immediate neighborhood and find some decent places to eat," Harley said, "and make sure there's nothing nearby we need to worry about."

35.35."Speaking of possible threats, are we gonna post guards while we sleep?"

Corrie asked.

"Of course," Harley said. "Remember, gang, this is a hot zone, even if it looks a lot like home. We have to consider everyone a potential hostile, so when we leave our quarters, we're always going to have someone here to guard our stuff. I don't want a nosy maid to discover our weapons or gear."

Coop glanced around at the shabby suite. "I don't think we have to worryabout any maids in the near future," he said with a grin. "This place doesn't look like it's been cleaned since the big war."

"I'm not worried about cleaners," Harley said, "but about looters.

Remember, everyone thinks the SUSA people are all rich, so our quarters would be a natural place for thieves to hit looking for goods to steal."

"If I'm so rich, how come I nevqr have any money?" Coop asked.

" 'Cause you spend it all on wine, women, and song!" Jersey said.

"That's a lie!" Coop retorted. "I never sing."

36 Five Beth said she wasn't particularly hungry, so she'd stand the first watch in their hotel rooms while the rest of the team went searching for a nearby restaurant where they could eat.

Less than two blocks from the Hilton they found an eating establishment called Marinaro's.

"I could use some good Italian food," Coop said, pointing at the restaurant's sign.

"I've never seen you turn down food of any kind," Jersey said, "though Italian is all right with me."

Harley Reno shrugged. "Italian it is then."

They entered the doors and stood in a group, looking around at the room.

There were about fifteen tables, all covered with the requisite red checkered tablecloths, with old bottles of wine fitted with candles as centerpieces.

A short, rather fat man with a dark handlebar mustache and graying black hair hustled up to greet them.

"Welcome to Marinaro's," he said with a thick Italian accent.

Harley glanced around, noticing only one other table was occupied, by a well-to-do-appearing man and woman.

"Not too busy tonight, huh?" Harley asked.

The man shrugged. "Well, you know, with the recent cutbacks in salaries and such, not too many people can afford to eat out."

37.37.He adjusted the ap.r.o.n around his waist and gave the team an appraising look. "I am Marinaro, the owner of this restaurant."

He looked over his shoulder at the window to the kitchen, visible against a back wall. "I am also the head waiter, cook, and dishwasher,"

he said with a small smile.

"Table for six, please," Harley said.Marinaro pursed his lips. "We have no tables for six, but I can push two together if that suits you."

"That's fine."

"We'll look at your menus while you get the tables ready," Coop said, licking his lips.

Marinaro raised his eyebrows. "Oh, we have no menus. Our selections of late have been . . . rather limited due to the shortage of food in the city."

"Oh?" Harley said.

"Yes. But tonight, we are serving spaghetti and meat sauce, with garlic bread and salad."

Harley looked around at the team, all of whom nodded their agreement. : "That'll be all right," Harley said. "Do you have any wine to go with that?" he asked the owner as the man pushed chairs and tables together in the center of the room.

Marinaro gave another shrug. "Only a rather pedantic Chi-anti, I'm afraid."

"Bring us three bottles of that and some water, please," Harley asked.

"Aren't you going to ask how much the meals will cost?" Marinaro asked, a worried look on his face.

Harley stared at him for a moment, then pulled a wallet from his pocket and opened it to show the man a thick bundle of bills inside.

"I'm sure you'll be reasonable," he said.

Marinaro's eyes widened at the sight of so much money; then he grinned widely. "Certainly, sir," he said, and hustled off toward the kitchen.

38.* * *

As they ate their salads, which consisted of rather anemic and wilted iceberg lettuce with slices of almost spoiled tomatoes and some small pieces of cuc.u.mber, Jersey turned to Harley.

"Do you think it wise to show him how much money we have?"

Harley leaned across the table and whispered. "Yes. I want him to know we are rich. It may help loosen his tongue when I ask him some questions about the area."

After Marinaro delivered the main course of spaghetti with a sauce that was mainly tomato sauce with very little actual meat in it, Harley asked him to join them for a gla.s.s of wine.

"Thank you, sir. Don't mind if I do," Marinaro said, after glancing at the front of the restaurant to make sure there were no other customers.As the owner poured himself a gla.s.s of Chianti, Harley said, "We're a medical team, sent here from the SUSA to help with inoculations against the plague."

Marinaro nodded. "I suspected as much. There are very few citizens who have the amount of money you do, and even fewer who are willing to spend it on eating out."

"I was wondering," Harley said, leaning back in his chair and sipping his wine, "if you might be able to help us."

Marinaro smacked his lips over his wine and stared at Harley, a slightly suspicious glint in his eyes. "In what way?"

"We have heard that there are some Arabs who have recently come to the U.S. who might have been exposed to the plague and who haven't been inoculated yet."

Marinaro shrugged. "I don't know. As you can imagine, I get very few Arabic customers here."

"Would you be able to help us locate the part of town favored by foreign visitors?" Harley asked.

39.39."Wouldn't it be better to ask the government?" Marinaro asked.

Harley smiled. "I'm afraid the government people spend very little time in the center city," he said, spreading his arms. "They seem to know as little as we do about the various neighborhoods."

Marinaro nodded. "That's true. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds refuse to spend any of our tax dollars here in the city where we need it. Instead, they do all their shopping and eating on the Army base, where they don't have to pay taxes on their goods."

"So," Jersey said, smiling sweetly at the man. "Could you help us?"

Marinaro poured himself another gla.s.s of wine and thought for a moment.

"Most of our foreign visitors, especially those who are not citizens, settle on the west side of town. It is a very poor section, even worse than the center city, and the rents are cheap and no one asks too many questions or requires papers showing citizenship."

"Is it safe to go there and search for persons needing then-shots?"

Corrie asked.

Marinaro shrugged. "As safe as any other place... which is to say, not safe at all if you flash your money around. The people of Indianapolis have been hit very hard by the recent cutbacks due to the war. Hunger will make savages of the most law-abiding citizen at times," he said apologetically.

Harley asked what the charges for the meal were, and Marinaro told him, a worried look on his face as if he thought Harley might complain.

Harley grinned and gave him his money, adding a twenty-percent tip.Marinaro's face lit up in a wide smile. "Thank you, sir. You are most generous."

"We are going to be here for some time, and the hotel has no facilities for eating," Harley said. He peeled off a few more bills. "If you would be so kind as to restock your 40.kitchen, we would like to make this our main dining facility for the duration of our stay."

Marinaro counted the money and nodded rapidly. "With this, I will get you some veal and some beef for meatb.a.l.l.s. You will eat like kings while you are here."

"Good," Harley said, "but if you would, please keep it quiet. We don't want to be bothered by beggars or thieves while we go about our business."

Marinaro grinned and put his finger against his lips. "It will be our little secret."

In a well-used apartment building on the city's west side, Abdullah El Farrar was meeting with his second in command, Mustafa Kareem.

"Mustafa," Farrar asked, sipping orange juice at a kitchen table, "have you been able to find out the arrangements for President Osterman's upcoming speech?"

"Yes," the big man answered quickly. "I found a member of her advisory staff who enjoys the company of young men. Akim was much to his liking, it seems, and was able to get him to talk without much difficulty."

Farrar nodded and gestured for Mustafa to continue.

"I have located the caterer that is to provide waiters and serving staff for the dinner next week. I already have two of our group hired by them.

When the time comes for the delivery, we will have little trouble stopping the trucks on their way and subst.i.tuting our men for all of the other waiters and cook staff."

"Then all is in readiness?" Farrar asked.

Kareem nodded. "It should pose no problem when it comes time to exact our vengeance for what has been done to our families."

Farrar nodded, his gaze wandering to look out the window as he recalled his first meeting with Kareem. . . .

41.41.The desert sun baked the streets of Baghdad, and the heat waves dancing upward through the sand haze in the air made the whole world seem to quiver. The teenagers playing in the streets seemed as insubstantial as ghosts outlined by the 110-degree glare in the haze. They were playing their usual game of taunting the UN. soldiers, calling them names and throwing garbage and rocks at them as they rode by in theirSUSA-supplied jeeps.

Farrar, although a couple of years younger than the others, joined in and gleefully hurled a rock in the general direction of one of the jeeps. He was fully as surprised and scared as the soldiers riding in the jeep were when the rock struck the front windshield and shattered it. The jeep screeched to a halt and the soldier in the pa.s.senger seat jumped out, and began to chase the suddenly scattering boys.

As he rounded a corner at full tilt, Farrar felt himself grabbed by the scruff of the neck and lifted off the ground. Screaming, shouting, and flailing out with his arms and legs, he was silenced by a ringing blow to the side of his head. With the world suddenly darkened, and as things began to shrink and swell in his vision, Farrar saw the grinning soldier draw back his fist for another blow to his face. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.