Page 91 of Steel Vengeance
Blade turned around. “But first, we gotta make a stop. I need a gun.”
The Clifton wasa four-star hotel just a stone’s throw from the port. Definitely a step up from what they were used to, but no one was complaining.
After a quick breakfast of eggs and naan, they checked into two adjoining rooms. Stitch left the box of supplies he’d picked up from his contact in the trunk.
“Wow, this is nice,” Sloane said, grinning as she flopped down on the king-size bed.
Pat called to give them an update. Stitch put the phone on speaker.
“The Pakistani police haven’t ID’d Jeremy Vale yet. They’re looking for the Pakistani guy who reserved the room, but he used a fake name. You’re in the clear.”
Blade chuckled. “Smart taxi driver.”
“Matthew Sullivan is under 24-hour surveillance, according to my contact. CIA Inspector General Robert McCarthy has been fully briefed on the upcoming shipment and is launching an investigation into Ghost Company, both during the war and after.”
“That’s good news,” Sloane said after they hung up. “If they’re watching him, he can’t come after me.”
Stitch wasn’t so sure it was good news. Matthew Sullivan had risen to the top of his list, and he wanted the mastermind for himself. An investigation, a deal, and a few years in minimum-security prison wouldn’t be enough for the man who’d ordered the attack on his village and ruined his life.
But there’d be time to settle that later.
First things first: Omari.
CHAPTER 34
The 1,150-footArabian Princesssat low in the water. Bright yellow cranes loomed above her, their job complete. She was fully loaded and ready to set sail.
“I don’t see Omari,” Stitch muttered, scanning the loading dock and surrounding area. “He should be here by now. The ship leaves in less than one hour.”
“Maybe he’s not coming,” Blade suggested.
Stitch frowned. “I was sure he’d want to see it off.”
Blade grunted in agreement.
A few minutes later, three black SUVs rolled onto the loading dock. Stitch heaved a sigh of relief. “They’re here.”
Blade eyed out the entourage. “That’s some heavy security detail.”
Stitch nodded. “He’s paranoid. Can’t blame him—he’s on the CIA watchlist.”
“While in cahoots with the CIA,” Blake murmured, under his breath.
The convoy rolled to a stop, and a bunch of big, heavy hitters piled out. They didn’t bother hiding their weapons—AKs and M16s gripped tight, ready to fire. The message was clear:Don’t even think about it.
“You sure about this?” Blade asked, voice low.
Stitch nodded grimly. “Omari’s not getting away this time.”
“Then, we’re going to need a distraction.” Blade glanced around.
“Only after they set sail,” Stitch reminded him. The shipment had to get underway first, then they could go after Omari.
“What about the exit road?” Blade suggested. “If we blow that, they’ll have to stop.”
Stitch thought about it. “We don’t have enough ammo for a full-on firefight.” Two against nine armed mercenaries weren’t the best odds.
“We won’t need it if things go to plan. We’ll blow the first car, the rest will scatter, and we’ll pick them off one by one. Easy.”