Free Clandestine-IsaacHooke-FreeFollowup by Isaac Hooke Page A

intel-wise, and the emir's laptop—his target—was nowhere in sight.  
    He heard restful breathing in the next room but, deciding not to tempt fate, he turned back. The potential intelligence he could glean from the laptop was of limited value: he would probably find nothing more than the recruits' travel documentation. True, the data would help foreign governments arrest them when and if they returned home, but the DIA had plenty of operatives working on fighter identification already: a favorite tactic was to pose as Muslim women online and get into Skype conversations with Islamic State militants. The operatives would claim to be looking for husbands, and once they determined whether the victim was on a laptop or a phone, they'd send a photo with the appropriate viral payload—a variant of Regin, incidentally—that gave complete access to the device. They'd keep the militant talking while sifting through their storage for identifying documents and pictures. On the rare occasion they even found battle plans.  
    The Islamic State minibus arrived a few days later, dropping off camp supplies and picking up Ethan and the other graduates of part two. On the side was written, in Arabic, Dawlah Islamiyah al Iraq wa Shaam . The Islamic State of Iraq and Syria.  
    Three women cloistered together in the back of the bus. Wearing niqabs , or full black veils, none of the black ghosts said anything, nor would they during the whole trip. That was the first time Ethan had seen any women since leaving Syria, and he suspected they were foreigners on their own hegira. Ethan had heard rumors that women were billeted on the north side of the village, in an all-sisters house. The minibus must have made a stop there beforehand, giving the women a chance to board secretly.  
    The minibus drove to the Islamic State stronghold of Al-Ra'i, where the passengers transferred onto a bigger bus, joining graduates from other border camps. There wasn't enough room for everyone, so the group was split. Ethan bid farewell to Ibrahim and those other graduates who were separated.  
    Ethan, William and Aaron overnighted with the remaining recruits in a mosque guesthouse, then set out again in the morning. They headed southeast across land that alternated between dry steppe and desert, passing other Islamic State-controlled cities on their journey, including Al Bab and Manbij. The bus stopped several times to traverse mujahadeen checkpoints. At least the roads were decent, with only the occasional pothole. Highway traffic was minimal.
    At one point during the ride, a recruit excitedly announced that he'd connected with the phone network. Ethan turned on his Android and sure enough obtained a signal, albeit a very weak one. After dismissing the MTNSyria welcome message, which encouraged him to "feel at home while he roamed on the MTN network," Ethan emailed Sam an encrypted update. The weak signal faded shortly thereafter.
    The dry grassland became more prominent as they neared the Euphrates, and the scenery soon turned green, at least for a while. The bus crossed the river via the Tishrin Dam, passing another checkpoint, and then the desert consumed the countryside once more.
    The sandy landscape eventually gave way to bedrock, and bedrock to farmland as they approached the Euphrates again. The occasional abandoned village came into view—white-washed homes with blast-damaged walls and bullet-riddled windows. Burnt out pickup trucks and other vehicles sometimes strewed the roads. The small mosques Ethan saw weren't immune to the damage, and many were partially collapsed.  
    Roughly four hours from Al-Ra'i the bus approached a city whose stooping buildings covered the landscape from horizon to horizon. Road traffic had picked up, though Ethan thought it was less than what it should have been, that close to a major city.
    When the bus reached the outskirts it slowed down, coming to a rolling stop as it neared another checkpoint.
    The two young mujahadeen