Target Zero Page 5

  McGinn shot Hawk a look. “What the hell for? Gotta pick up someone?”

  “I think we’re being followed.”

  McGinn chuckled again and shook his head. “I ask for the best and brightest, and this is what I get.”

  “Two highly-trained and accomplished operatives? I’d say you got exactly what you asked for,” Alex said.

  “The jury’s still out on that,” McGinn said before jerking the steering wheel to the right and rounding the corner.

  They raced along the surface streets for over a minute without seeing another car on the road. McGinn finally broke the awkward silence.

  “You satisfied now that no one is trailing us?”

  Hawk took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder through the back window. A pair of headlights could be seen in the distance.

  “That other car is still back there.”

  McGinn abruptly pulled the car over to the side of the road and shoved the gear into park. The car that had been behind them roared past and kept going.

  “See—what did I tell you?” he said. “Nobody’s tailing us, so chill out, okay?”

  Alex looked through the back window and saw a pair of headlights in the distance.

  McGinn looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Turnaround, toots. I just proved there’s nobody back there tailing us. Now, let’s stay focused on the task at hand.”

  CHAPTER 13

  HASSAN GARAAR WOKE UP EARLY Thursday morning and began another round of quality control checks on his sarin. He donned his hazmat suit and siphoned out a small amount of the liquid onto a petri dish and slid it under the microscope. All the molecules still appeared stable. But he wasn’t satisfied with a simple inspection; he required a demonstration for peace of mind.

  Garaar grabbed one of the mice from the terrarium in his office, placing the feisty animal inside a sealed room where he could vaporize the gas. A couple small puffs later, Garaar peered through the window and watched the animal twitch and turn until it gasped its last breath.

  Everything is working properly.

  Garaar took pride in fighting for the cause he signed up to protect, but it wasn’t the only reason he was excited about seeing the sarin leave his hands. Garaar was also thrilled about what was going to be placed in his hands—money, and plenty of it.

  During his time studying at Caltech, Garaar began to see how Americans could enjoy such a culture. For as long as he could remember, he heard about how morally debased the United States was. His grandfather once told him that the country was full of whores. “Men can’t even walk down the street without a woman throwing herself at him,” Garaar’s grandfather explained. “These women are on every corner with one goal—and that is to take you down.” Those words haunted Garaar, even to the point that he almost reneged at the last moment on his pledge to attend Caltech so he could help out Al-Shabaab. But his commitment to the cause ultimately triumphed.

  While at Caltech, Garaar discovered that his grandfather either didn’t know what he was talking about or things had dramatically changed. Garaar found it nearly impossible to get a woman to talk to him. Despite the fact that the overwhelming majority of his classmates were male, Garaar wondered why women wouldn’t speak to him. He desperately wanted to fit in and wanted to make the best of the next four to five years of his life. But he seemed resigned to the fact that being one of the guys would have to happen without having a girlfriend.

  Before he accepted that reality, Garaar questioned if anything was wrong with him. He asked his friends, classmates, roommates—anyone who would speak with him—if there was anything about him that was keeping women from talking to him. He received a wide array of advice, varying from fashion tips to ways to engage a woman in conversation. He tried it all, and none of it worked.

  However, Garaar watched in amazement as Theodore Holdman seemed to need a security team to keep women away from him. Theodore, who was affectionately called Teddy Bear by those closest to him, quickly became the most desirable man on campus. But his ability to attract women extended beyond the Caltech campus boundaries and reached neighboring UCLA. At one point in the spring of Garaar’s freshman year, Teddy Bear was dating a UCLA cheerleader and became a school legend.

  But Garaar couldn’t figure out why. Teddy Bear wasn’t overweight, but he certainly wasn’t a jock. He wore dark rimmed glasses and rarely combed his hair. His fashion of choice—solid color cardigans—were often accessorized with mustard and ketchup stains. For a few weeks, Teddy Bear even grew a splotchy mustache that seemed to have no effect on the women who flocked to him. Garaar watched in awe until he finally asked one of his roommates about the Theodore Holdman phenomena.

  “You think Theodore Holdman has some secret trick to getting babes?” Garaar’s roommate asked as he started to chuckle. “There are two billion tricks he has, if you know what I mean.”

  Garaar cocked his head to one side. “Two billion tricks?”

  “Tricks equal dollars, dope. Ever heard of Holdman Financial Holdings?”

  Garaar shook his head.

  “That’s the company where the elite in this country go when they want to invest. And Theodore is set to inherit his father’s business when he retires.”

  “But he’s studying engineering here.”

  “Yes, computer engineering, which he’s doing so he can better research the industry for his father’s company. He already has a business degree that he got from USC when he was eighteen.”

  Garaar nodded slowly. “I see. So, it’s all about the money?”

  His roommate laughed. “That’s an understatement. Chicks would dig you too if you had money.”

  It was an off-handed comment, but one that stuck with Garaar. He desperately wanted a woman—or a whole bunch of them like Holdman. It didn’t matter. Garaar was convinced it’d help him fit in better.

  However, it didn’t seem to matter as Garaar failed time after time in his attempts to lure women to going on more than one date with him. He only got two first dates, which both ended abruptly before the evening was finished. It left Garaar more determined than ever to win over the heart of a woman—and it had to be an American woman. His family could pick a Muslim for him to marry at any point. But Garaar wanted to woo one on his own.

  When Garaar entered the world of online dating, he found it easy to be someone else. The profile he created made outlandish claims. He was a business mogul from the Middle East who’d amassed a fortune in oil. He took pictures of himself next to yachts with a drink in his hand to enhance the illusion. Then he began his search. It wasn’t long until he found a sucker, a woman who lapped up every outrageous story he fabricated and shared with her as if it were the truth. However, something troubling happened along the way: Garaar started to actually like the woman.

  Cindy Freeman from Miami, Florida, wasn’t just another American woman whose heart he wanted to conquer; Garaar wanted to share his heart with hers. He knew it sounded insane, but it was how he felt. He went from simply getting a woman to like him online to wanting her in real life—and he couldn’t do it without being a fraud … unless he could find a way to become rich.

  After months and months of talk, Cindy told Garaar that if he didn’t come over and meet her—because if he was that rich, what could stop him, she said—she was going to move on. She expressed his desire to connect in person and see if a future was possible. Then Garaar said he’d meet her on his yacht once he was able to work out the details.

  She gave him a month at the time and extended it two weeks when Garaar asked for it. When he asked again, she refused and gave him the ultimatum. Garaar wasn’t sure he could pull it off, but when the opportunity to make a ton of money by selling the sarin to the Al Hasib, he began to believe it was possible. That’s when he started talking up his wealth more than he should have. He swallowed hard with every new lie that he told. Instead of tamping down the lies, he ramped them up, justifying it all by convincing himself that it would all be true once he sold the Sarin.


  Almost there.

  Garaar smiled as he scrolled through the list of yachts for sale on a used boat website. He’d already picked out the one he wanted and contacted the owner. In a few short days, he’d be standing on the dock in the picture and waiting for Cindy to join him on board.

  He logged into the dating website where he’d connected with Cindy and noticed he had a message from her.

  I’m starting to think you’re making this all up. I want to see you ASAP.

  He stared at the computer screen for a moment and took a deep breath.

  Saturday can’t get here soon enough. But maybe it doesn’t have to.

  Garaar dialed the number of Rashid Qureshi, the Al Hasib agent who was supposed to collect the Sarin.

  “It’s not a good idea to be calling me,” Qureshi said.

  “I know, but I was wondering if you wanted to accelerate our timetable by one day,” Garaar said.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I just thought—”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, but I just—”

  “I’ll see you at the time and place we originally scheduled. Do not contact me again under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Garaar mumbled as he hung up.

  With just under sixty hours until the exchange was scheduled to go down, Garaar wondered if he could last that long. He wanted to lock himself into a room and come out when it was time to make the deal.

  Garaar hoped Cindy would understand.

  CHAPTER 14

  HAWK HAD SLEPT IN WORSE CONDITIONS, but he didn’t expect to be confined to such rudimentary lodging for so long. The attack on McGinn’s compound forced them underground and understandably so. McGinn lost several men in the attack, while the ones who survived had mostly fled into hiding. It was anybody’s guess if or when Al-Shabaab might strike again, and considering the damage their initial assault inflicted, nobody wanted to be around for a second one.

  The threadbare blanket Hawk pulled tight against his body provided little protection from the constant draft in the basement. If it hadn’t been against mission protocol, he would’ve considered inviting Alex to join him; yet with McGinn in the room, it would’ve made an awkward sleeping arrangement even more so. The first rays of sunlight trickled through the cracks in the wooden floor above them and signaled to Hawk that it was time to get up.

  He rolled off the cot and pressed his feet firmly against the cold floor. He shivered and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

  “Chilly in the basement, ain’t it, cowboy?” McGinn said.

  Hawk glanced in the direction of McGinn and nodded.

  “In about an hour, you’ll probably be able to fry an egg on the concrete,” McGinn said. “But down here? It’ll make you question that you’re in one of the warmest cities in the world.”

  Hawk shook his head. “Is there an air conditioner that I’m not aware of?”

  “You’re funny. You know that? This is Somalia. As far as these people know, air conditioning hasn’t even been invented yet.”

  Hawk sniffed the air and then zeroed in on the cup in McGinn’s hand.

  “Where’d you get that?” Hawk asked.

  McGinn grinned. “Coffee isn’t easy to come by this early in the morning, but I slipped out and got some equipment for Alex to make sure she’ll have everything she needs for Saturday night. And while I did, I grabbed some coffee too. Want some?”

  Hawk nodded.

  “Too bad,” McGinn said, laughing. “I didn’t have enough hands to carry more than one cup.”

  Alex sat up and pushed the hair out of her eyes. “You’re an asshole, McGinn.”

  “And good morning to you too, buttercup,” McGinn shot back. “I come bearing gifts that would make Santa Claus blush in shame, yet the first words out of your mouth are disparaging toward me. What gives?”

  “I’m gonna give you a piece of my mind if you continue your pretentious act,” she said. “I want my equipment and a cup of coffee.”

  “Will it make you behave more civilly?”

  Alex glared at McGinn.

  He threw his hands in the air. “Okay, okay. You win. I brought cups of coffee for both of you.” He distributed a cup each to Hawk and Alex. “You could be a little nicer, you know?”

  Alex glared at McGinn and took a swig of the coffee. She immediately doubled over, pretending as if she was about to vomit.

  “What’d you use to filter this with? A dirty sock that had been tucked away in a locker for years?”

  McGinn smiled. “Must’ve finally switched out that filter.” He put his hand up to the side of his face as if he were about to tell a secret. “You should’ve had some coffee from the last batch.”

  “Forget it,” she said. “Just give me the equipment.”

  “Fine,” McGinn said, gesturing toward the corner of the room, where a stack of electronic gadgets sat. “Everything you need for Saturday night.”

  Hawk watched as Alex flung off her covers and shuffled across the room.

  “What about the muscle?” Hawk asked.

  “The muscle? You’re it, cowboy,” McGinn said.

  “I’m talking about the guns. This isn’t likely to be the picnic you think it’s going to be. When the bad guys have guns, they shoot back.”

  McGinn rolled his eyes and stood up. “Look, you’ll have everything you need. I promise.”

  “That’s not a satisfactory answer. I need to see what I’m dealing with and make sure every weapon I have is going to operate the way it’s supposed to if you expect me to assist you.”

  “I couldn’t bring everything back here,” McGinn said. “At least, I couldn’t do it in broad daylight.”

  “This isn’t an option for me,” Hawk said. “I need to see what’s at my disposal.”

  McGinn dug a keychain out of his pants pocket and tossed it at Hawk. “Why don’t you go get it yourself?”

  Hawk glared at him. “I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.”

  “I’ll give you directions and the combination to the safe. It’ll be like an early Christmas for you. I promise.”

  “And you’ll stay here and take care of Alex?”

  McGinn rolled his eyes. “Geez, man, she’s a grown woman. I think she can handle pretty much anything that’s thrown her way.”

  “I don’t want her left alone. We’re a team.”

  “Oh, God, just go, will you? I promise I won’t leave. Just promise me you will.”

  Hawk nodded.

  McGinn drew up directions for how to find the compound and where the weapons were located.

  “Why can’t we just use the tunnels?” Hawk finally asked.

  “What if someone sees you? We’re all dead then. Use the truck. It’s all clear at the compound for now. Nobody is watching the place.”

  “Yet, we’re still here, hiding out,” Hawk snapped.

  “Only to be cautious. Trust me, nobody is there now.”

  Hawk sighed and shook his head. “I hope you’re right. I’d hate to leave more carnage at your compound.”

  “Do what you must.”

  Hawk walked upstairs, intruding upon the startled old woman’s morning routine. Her eyes widened as she looked at Hawk.

  “It’s okay,” Hawk said. “I’m a guest of Mr. McGinn.”

  She forced a smile and nodded.

  Hawk figured the mention of McGinn’s name put her at ease, though he was far from it. Once he stepped into the warm Berera air, he started to wonder if McGinn was the worst operative the CIA had ever commissioned into the field.

  The drive back to the compound took no more than five minutes. When Hawk arrived at the gate, he stepped out of the truck and looked around. It was just as McGinn had promised. Stillness in the morning. Nobody was walking along the walls of the compound. There wasn’t a soul left to guard anything inside. The only thing between a weapons cache and the outside world were a pair of doors that were tenuously held together by a se
curity system. Hawk had the keys to unlock the gate, but he imagined that anyone determined enough could break inside. And it was only a matter of time before someone actually did that.

  Hawk typed in a code on the keypad, and the gate swung open. Returning to his vehicle, he slid into the driver’s side and eased onto the gas. Once inside, the doors shut behind him.

  Jamming the car into park, Hawk drove toward the area McGinn had marked on his map. All the weapons they’d ever need were allegedly inside a hidden room at the end of the barracks. Hawk didn’t want to waste any time getting a peek inside them either.

  Hawk parked and sprinted toward the door to the barracks. He entered another code that McGinn had given and wasted no time finding the door to the room he had mentioned. Inside, it was a literal treasure trove of weapons. Plenty of bullets that matched the types of guns harbored inside. Handguns and sniper rifles and everything else in between.

  I need you and you and you and …

  Hawk smiled as he snatched everything he could hold in his hands before shoveling the weapons and ammo into the back of McGinn’s SUV. He scanned the area, which was devoid of any activity, and got inside the truck.

  After some time to reflect on McGinn’s plan, Hawk concluded it was solid, but not perfect. If it were up to him, he would have a better escape route. No matter how committed he was to the mission, staying alive was always the component he considered first if the threat to thousands of lives was imminent. And danger was lurking at some point in the near future. He preferred to live to die another day, as cliché as that approach was to his work. But having enough weapons to fend off a small army for several hours eased Hawk’s concerns. He knew he could fight his way out of any situation if properly supplied. He glanced at the weapons in the back and smiled as he nodded.

  That’s enough to get me and Alex out alive if McGinn’s plan falls apart.

  When Hawk whipped his head back around, he almost didn’t see the vehicle stopped in front of him. Hawk stomped on the brakes as the SUV slid to a stop. As he started to pull around the car, a woman got out and gestured for him to halt.