"We need to save this one," she said. "He might know something useful."

Samuel Clements, who doubled as a medic, took his medical pack and began to apply field dressings to the wound in Atwa's back, then gave him a shot of morphine to help ward off shock and some antibiotics to prevent infection.

300.

After a few moments, Atwa's eyes opened and he glanced around at the Scouts standing over him.

"Am I going to live?" he asked, his voice slurring from the morphine.

Jackie glanced at Clements, who shrugged and nodded. "I think so," she said.

"Then, perhaps a gla.s.s of scotch would be in order," Atwa groaned. "It's in the next room."

Jackie laughed. The man had b.a.l.l.s. She glanced up at Coop. "Get him his scotch," she said. "It's the least we can do."

301.

Ben jogged down the dark street, carrying his H&P MP-10 cradled in his arms. Up ahead, he could see a man wearing the flowing white robes of a Saudi citizen walking at a fast pace and carrying a suitcase in his right hand.

Ben slowed and moved in behind the man, making sure he made no sounds as he trailed the man. Waiting until there were no other people around, Ben called softly, "Abdullah El Farrar."

The man jerked as if he'd received an electric shock, and then he stoodstock still, not looking behind him.

"I am afraid you're mistaken," the man said as he slowly turned around.

"My name is Ahmed Ressam and I am a citizen of Saudi Arabia."

Ben laughed out loud, letting the barrel of his MP-10 drop toward the ground. "Bulls.h.i.t!" he said. "Your name is Abdullah El Farrar, and you are not only a scoundrel, you are a coward who deserted the men who'd followed him into battle."

El Farrar's eyes narrowed, and Ben saw his hand move toward a fold in his robes.

Ben raised the barrel of the MP-10 and clicked the safety off with a metallic sound. "If that's a gun in your robes, you'd better not pull it or I'll cut you to pieces."

El Farrar slowly let his hand fall to his side. Ben moved 302.

in close, reached into his robes, and pulled out the automatic pistol El Farrar had hidden there.

"You must be the infamous Ben Raines," El Farrar said scornfully.

"One and the same," Ben replied, stepping back a few paces.

"I a.s.sume I am under arrest?" El Farrar asked, setting the suitcase down on the street.

Ben pursed his lips. "No, not tonight, El Farrar. You are much too dangerous a man to leave alive, even in captivity."

"So, you plan to shoot me down in cold blood?" El Farrar asked, his eyes wide.

Ben shook his head. "Nope, not my style," he replied, laying the MP-10 down on the ground.

El Farrar nodded and smiled evilly, his hand going to the curved knife on his belt that all male Saudis wore with their robes.

Ben grinned back and pulled his K-Bar a.s.sault knife from his scabbard.

"I'm going to give you a chance, El Farrar," he said. "Defeat me, and you go free."

"You are a fool, Ben Raines," El Farrar said, "To try and best an Arab in a knife fight is to lose your life."

Ben crouched, holding his K-Bar in the underhanded manner of the experienced knife-fighter.

"We'll see," he said, and moved from side to side as he closed the s.p.a.ce between them.

El Farrar also crouched, waving his curved stiletto back and forth, its blade gleaming in the starlight.

Suddenly he lunged forward, the knife flashing toward Ben in a sweeping arc.Ben leaned back just enough so the knife missed him by inches, and slashed horizontally with his own blade. The K-Bar slashed through muscles and tendons of El 303.

303.

Farrar's right arm, opening a deep gash and causing him to drop his knife.

He grabbed his arm and doubled over, groaning in pain.

"Pick it up," Ben growled. "I'm not through with you yet."

Tucking his right arm tight against his side, El Farrar bent and retrieved his knife.

He bared his teeth in a savage grimace and lunged at Ben once again, slashing back and forth with his knife held in front of him.

Ben leaned to the side, kicked sideways with his combat boot, and caught El Farrar in the right knee, caving it in and snapping the cartilage in two.

El Farrar went down on one knee, hissing between his teeth at the searing pain in his leg. He held the knife out before him. "I give up, Raines. You are too much for me."

Ben shook his head. "Like I said, El Farrar, a coward to the end."

As Ben moved to take the knife, El Farrar jumped to his feet and stabbed overhand at Ben's chest.

Ben blocked the movement with his left arm and swung upward with his right hand, burying the K-Bar to its hilt in El Farrar's abdomen.

El Farrar grunted and sagged, all of his weight on Ben's knife hand.

With a grunt of effort, Ben jerked the knife upward, severing all of El Farrar's abdominal muscles and slicing up to his rib cage.

El Farrar opened his mouth in a gasp of pain and fell against Ben, who whispered in his ear, "I'm going to leave your body here, El Farrar, to be buried in a pauper's grave, unknown to your family and followers."

El Farrar's eyes stared up at Ben, full of hatred and fear, until the pupils finally dilated in the long stare of eternity.

304.

Ben decided to take the wounded Muhammad Atwa back to Kuwait City with him and his troops in hopes the man might have some useful information about El Farrar's organization.

After his surgery to remove the bullet from his right lung, Ben visited him in the hospital ward where he was being held under tight security.

"h.e.l.lo, sir," Ben said, standing next to the bed. "My name is Ben Raines."

"Ah," Atwa said, "the leader of the Great Satan's troops in person."Ben smiled. "And what is your name?"

"Muhammad Atwa."

"You know why I'm here, Mr. Atwa?" Ben asked.

Atwa sighed. "I suppose you want me to give you information about Abdullah El Farrar." He hesitated. "He is dead, is he not?"

Ben nodded.

"I thought so," Atwa said. He glanced at a nurse standing in the corner, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't suppose you could arrange for some cigars, or a bottle of scotch whiskey, could you?"

Ben laughed. "I'm afraid the cigars are out of the ques- 305.

305.

tion. You've just had a significant portion of your right lung removed."

When Atwa's face fell, Ben leaned down and also whispered, "But I think a small bottle of scotch could be arranged."

Atwa smiled. "You are a scholar and a gentleman, sir."

Ben looked puzzled. "Mr. Atwa, you seem to be an educated man, and since you asked for whiskey and tobacco, you aren't exactly a Muslim fundamentalist. Why on earth did you elect to follow and work with a man such as El Farrar?"

Atwa turned his head to stare out of the window. "You probably won't believe this, but it was to help my people."

"Oh?"

He turned back to look into Ben's eyes. "The people in my region in, Pakistan live in the most dreadful poverty, without even the most basic of human needs; there is little food and even less potable water. I thought that if El Farrar succeeded, perhaps some of the money and power he achieved would be used to better the lives of our people back home."

Ben thought for a moment. "Mr. Atwa, where did El Farrar obtain the plutonium he used to blackmail the entire world by threatening its oil supply?"

"That was my doing, I'm afraid," Atwa answered. "I traveled to the United States and asked President Oster-man for it."

Ben wasn't all that surprised. "And what was President Osterman to get for giving you the plutonium?"

Atwa smiled. "Actually, she was to get nothing, according to El Farrar, but she thought she would get a larger supply of oil than she presently is allowed."

"I see," Ben said. "Mr. Atwa, did you know that El306 Farrar had in his possession a suitcase with over five million dollars in it?"

"No, but I suspected as much. El Farrar was not above lining his own pockets at the expense of his people."

"And you were not a partner in this theft of funds meant to be used to help the Middle East's poorer peoples?"

Atwa looked offended. "Of course not."

"Could much good be done with five million dollars in your country?" Ben asked.

"An enormous amount of good, sir."

"Then, I'm going to take a chance on you, Mr. Atwa. As soon as you've recovered from your wounds, I'm going to see to it that you are released and sent back to Pakistan, with the five million dollars in El Farrar's suitcase."

Atwa looked astounded.

"But," Ben added, pointing his finger at him, "I will be checking up on you to see that you spend the money wisely, to help your people. If you don't, you will wake up one night and I will be at your bedside, and it won't be a happy reunion."

Atwa's face sobered. He stuck out his hand. "Thank you, sir, I will not disappoint you."

Two weeks later, Ben Raines got on a long-range transport helicopter and flew north. Harley Reno, Jackie Malone, Coop, and Jersey, who had refused to be left behind, accompanied him.

President Claire Osterman finished her dinner, which she'd had served in her quarters, and looked across the 307.

307.

table at her personal bodyguard, Herb Knoff. "I hope you didn't eat too much, Herb," she said, her eyes bright and shining.

"Oh?" he asked. "Why?"

"I've heard it's not good to exert yourself too much after a heavy meal."

He smiled. "And am I going to be exerting myself tonight?"

She stood up and began unb.u.t.toning her blouse. "I certainly hope so."

Two hours later, they were sound asleep, both exhausted after some vigorous post-dinner activities.

Claire blinked and opened her eyes. Something had awakened her from a deep sleep. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she saw adark shape leaning over her and felt a sudden stinging in her left ear.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, sitting up abruptly in bed. "G.o.dd.a.m.nit, that hurt."

"What'd you say, dear?" Herb asked sleepily from next to her in the bed.

Suddenly, the lights came on and Claire saw a group of men and women standing around her bed. They were dressed all in black and had black greasepaint on their faces.

She punched Herb in the shoulder, waking him up. As he scooted up in bed and sat up, Claire said, "I'm really getting tired of waking up and having strange people in my bedroom."

Herb glanced at her, noticing blood was running out from between the fingers of her left hand, which was cupping her left ear.

"Claire," he said, "You've been hurt!"

308.

She took her hand away and saw the blood on it, and then her eyes went to a female face next to her bed. She recognized Jackie Malone from their previous meeting when Jackie had cut a notch in her right ear.

"s.h.i.t! Not again?" Claire said.