Free The Edge of Armageddon by David Leadbeater Page B

Secretary watched her go. Hayden locked him inside and then turned to Mano. “Any ideas?”
    “I’m wondering if Webb is involved in this. He’s been the figurehead all along.”
    “Not this time, Mano. Webb isn’t even stalking us anymore. This is all Ramses and Marsh, I’m sure.”
    “So what’s next?”
    “I don’t know how else we can help Drake and the guys,” Hayden said. “The team is already at the very core of this. Homeland have everything else managed, from cops kicking in doors to spies pulling their hard-earned covers, to army build-up and the arrival of NEST, the Nuclear Emergency Support Team. FDNY are everywhere, with all they’ve got. The bomb squad is at the highest alert. We have to find a way to break Ramses.”
    “You saw him. How do you break a man who doesn’t care if he lives or dies?”
    Hayden stopped angrily. “We have to try. Or would you rather just give up? Everyone has a trigger. That worm cares for something. His fortune, his lifestyle, a concealed family? There has to be something we can do to help.”
    Kinimaka wished they could call on Karin Blake’s computer expertise, but the woman was still embroiled in her Fort Bragg regime. “Let’s go find a workstation.”
    “And pray we have time.”
    “They’re waiting for Ramses’ go ahead. We have some time.”
    “You heard him as well as I, Mano. Sooner or later, they’re gonna kill Marsh and detonate.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
     
     
    Dahl listened to the conflicting comms reports as Smyth guided their vehicle through the congested streets of Manhattan. Luckily, they didn’t have far to go and not every concrete artery was fully clogged. The entire cast of informers had been dragged out for this one, it seemed, from the lowliest gutter snitch to the richest, dishonest billionaire and everything in between. This made for a clutter of conflicting reports, but Homeland were doing their very best to sort the reliable from the polluted.
    “Two of the known cells have strong links to a nearby mosque,” Moore was telling Dahl over the earpiece. He reeled off an address. “We have an undercover there, though he’s pretty new. Says the place has been on lockdown all day.”
    Dahl was never a man to assume anything. “What does that actually mean in mosque terminology?”
    “What does it mean? It means get the hell in there and flush out at least one of Ramses’ cells.”
    “Civilian activity?”
    “Nothing much to speak of. But whoever is in there ain’t likely saying prayers. Search all the back rooms and underground chambers. And gear up. My guy’s not often wrong, and I trust his gut on this one.”
    Dahl relayed the information and punched the coordinates into the GPS. As luck had it they were almost on top of the mosque and Smyth wrenched the wheel towards the curb.
    “Providence,” Lauren said.
    “The name I gave my old katana.” Kenzie sighed in memory.
    Dahl tightened the buckles of his vest. “We ready? Same formation. We hit hard and fast, people. No quarter.”
    Smyth switched the engine off. “No problem with me.”
    Morning still greeted them as they climbed out and studied the mosque across the road. A red and white vent stood nearby, billowing steam. Situated at a junction, the building ran along the sides of both streets, its colorful windows and extended frontage a part of the community. Atop the building sat a small minaret, odd and almost flashy against the surrounding concrete facades. The off-street entry was through a pair of glass doors.
    “We walk in,” Dahl said. “Now move.”
    They headed across the road with hard purpose, stopping traffic with outstretched hands. A pause now could cost them everything.
    “Big place,” Smyth commented. “Hard to find a determined group inside there.”
    Dahl contacted Moore. “We’re on site. Do you have anything else for us?”
    “Yeah. My man assures me the cell meets underground. He’s close to being accepted, but not close enough to help us