Page 39 of Red Line

Then Nomad picked it up and looked inside.

The banded stacks of Lebanese pounds had to be worth thousands of dollars.

Nomad slid that strap over his arm along with his other pack.

The other thing that had caught his eye was the table leaning on top of the debris turned to the side, exposing the man with the blue suit. Though the top and sides of the heavy wooden table were destroyed, the underside had withstood and was in pretty good shape. It seemed to have shielded the suited man’s head and chest, but that didn’t make him any less dead.

He was definitely in decomp.

Some flies were in the area, but with the cold desert night temperatures and the steady breeze, this scene was in better shape than he’d expected.

T-Rex moved over to Nomad’s side.

Nomad pointed down at the man in the robes. “I know this guy. That’s Imraan el-Jafri.” Nomad used the man’s sleeve to lift his hand and look at his fingers. “Might be able to get a print.”

“On it,” T-Rex said, moving forward. “Get photos. What was he known for?”

“Contraband funded terror activity. I thought he’d met his maker. I guess I was wrong.”

“You’re sure of his identification?” Using a gloved hand, T-Rex pressed el-Jafri’s fingers one at a time onto the phone screen to be read by the Intelligence app.

“See the Big Dipper?” Nomad pointed to the man’s brow. “How many guys have eyebrows like hisanda big dipper of moles perfectly positioned to frame his eye?” Nomad crouched to get a picture of the left side of the man’s face. “He worked with ISIS to move their goods along trade routes to the Mediterranean for the European market.”

“A true believer?” T-Rex asked.

“My take was that it was financial, plus they offered him a consistently refreshed choice of slave women. Girls. He preferred girls. May he rot in hell.” Nomad snapped pictures of the right side of el-Jafri’s face.

“I have what I need.” T-Rex swiped his phone down his pants leg. “What have you got in that bag?”

“Looks like an asset payout.” Nomad pointed to the man in the blue suit. “He’s not going to be spending it now.”

“Hopeful sign. If he was paid, maybe Red was already gone.” From his squatted position, T-Rex looked over to where Havoc clambered over debris toward the front of the building.

“Nothing back here. The bathroom and kitchen were destroyed but survivable. The back door goes out to an enclosed yard with an open gate door. It’s where they dump their trash. Unless she was upstairs—and upstairs doesn’t look affected. No sign of her here?” He glanced around.

“If she’s in here, it’s going to take heavy equipment to find her.” Nomad’s gut clenched.

“After we check the hotel up the street,” Havoc moved toward the sidewalk, “we can start down the list of hospitals where they’ve sent the wounded. When the crew starts putting the victims in body bags, we can check them.”

“The guard’s signing for us to clear out.” T-Rex raised a hand, then brought it to his chest to signal gratitude, and the team moved clear of the bombsite. “Let’s get back to the vehicle and make our way over to her hotel. Look for a back exit we can avail ourselves of.”

Havoc took the black bag from Nomad and looked in, letting out a whistle under his breath. “Whatever information she was given must have been significant.” He opened the van door and threw the money bag in before sliding the door shut with the tiniest click.

They continued up the street, running parallel to the main drag.

“I mean, that’s a ton of money,” Havoc said, “Maybe not life-changing, but it certainly would be life-enhancing. What do you think he was handing her? Could that be part of the reason she disappeared?”

“My guess is she didn’t know what she was getting and had a bag to mete out the appropriate payment.” As a Green Beret, Nomad had been involved in similar scenarios.

T-Rex turned his head, keeping an eye on the surroundings as they moved. “Fact is, we don’t know that it had any connection to Red.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nomad pulled his brow together. “I found it at the pinned location. It was hers. And from here, Damascus is only an hour away,” Nomad reminded them. “Poole’s farm host is even closer.”

“But was it a payment for Poole?” T- Rex asked, lengthening his stride. “That time frame’s too short. When this happened, we were getting a phone call to head out. She would have been involved with this event at the same time we were getting rerouted.”

“The farmhouse is waking up now and checking on him,” Havoc said, turning into the alley.

“He’s an American; they probably think he’s tired, so let him sleep in.” T-Rex stopped and looked at the building in front of them. “Here it is, room six, second floor. Let’s go knock on the door.”

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