Lady Death

view” didn’t change. The two Toyotas continued traveling Route 90. They were long past the cement plant. Another three miles to the gas station and the Route 53 junction. No other traffic in the way. No last-minute abort order.
Ten seconds...
Five...
Three...
The first missile tore into the pavement in front of the lead Toyota. The black-and-white footage registered the explosion. The bright plume filled the scope despite the drone’s high altitude.
The follow-up missile struck directly on the second Toyota’s roof. The explosion grew, flaring once more, before settling into a growing plume of smoke and fire.
“Targets destroyed,” the drone pilot radioed. “Have a nice day.”
The drone footage swung away as the pilot steered the Predator for home.
Hayden switched to the dashcam of Bravo Team.
“Get the firefighting rigs and get in there! We need bodies or teeth!”
“I don’t think we’ll get bodies, Chief.”
“We need something to identify this woman. Move!”
The Bravo vehicle stopped. The camera showed the wreckage ahead. The Alpha crew radioed their arrival and readiness to extinguish the flames.
They didn’t have much time. The CIA crew had to confirm the dead, and get out, before Syrian authorities responded. The desolate area worked in their favor, but the employees at the cement plant would see the smoke. An emergency phone call would be all it took to ruin the party.
Hayden wiped his eyes. The glare from the monitors always gave him a headache.
Lymann returned. He dropped into the seat beside Hayden. “Did I miss the touchdown?”
“Touchdown and the extra point,” Hayden said. “Both Toyotas obliterated.”
“I feel bad for the cars,” Lymann said. “They never hurt anybody.”
A telephone on the table rang. Hayden pressed the speaker button.
“Go, boss,” he said.
Clark Wilson’s voice came over the line. “You watching?”
“Yup. Good shooting.”
“Tell the team in Sukkariyeh to hit the building.”
“Building’s empty,” Hayden said.
“What?”
“Look at the pictures, boss. Ain’t nobody there.”
“Wait one.”
The line clicked. Hayden and Lymann watched the Alpha and Bravo teams attack the blaze with fire suppression tanks. The white foam covered the destroyed vehicles. The smoke was lessening by the minute.
Wilson came back. “Hit it anyway. The team can tell us what’s there or what isn’t.”
“Waste of money.”
“I have a feeling you’re right, Joe,” Wilson said. “I’ll be damned if I can explain it.”
“She wasn’t going there.”
“Our informant says—”
“They know she’s in custody by now. They changed their plans.”
“Puts us behind the eight-ball.”
“Yup.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay.” Hayden ended the call.
Colleen leaned over his right shoulder. When she spoke, he smelled the cardamom coffee on her breath.
“I love hunky firemen,” she said.
“Take your pick,” Hayden told her.
“They’re all gay,” Lymann said.
“You wish,” Colleen told him.
The trio remained glued to their screens.
A nagging doubt remained in the back of Hayden’s mind.
If the Islamic Union had evacuated the Sukkariyeh location, why had Francesca Sloan kept her travel plans?
Had they killed a decoy?

16
Raven chewed a grape from the fruit plate.
He and Tanya sat in the conference room once again, a uniformed guard at the door. Wilson was on his way.
The CIA man had been correct. The accommodations weren’t terrible. Raven’s quarters were small but comfortable.
But he was getting antsy.
It wasn’t in his nature to stay in one place for long. He wanted to stay because of Tanya. She needed a friend close by. He was willing to be such a friend, for now.
He’d spent the previous evening answering Wilson’s questions about his involvement. The questions had been routine, and he explained how she’d contacted him and their meeting at the casino.
He took a deep breath. Another day or two and he could go home. In the meantime—
“What do you think he wants?” Tanya asked.
“No sense in speculating,” Raven said. “I’m sure everything is fine. They probably need you to see pictures of the drone strike.”
She remained silent. He watched her pick at a fingernail.
The door swung open. Wilson rushed in. He excused the guard, who closed the door behind her.
Wilson set a laptop in front of him and raised the lid. He pressed the power button.
“Good news and bad news,” he said.
Raven sat up.
“Good news, we have two of Francesca Sloan’s teeth, and it’s her. Confirmed kill.”
“The bad news?” Tanya said.
“The Sukkariyeh base was empty. Cleared out.”
Color drained from her face.
“They changed the meeting,” Raven said.
“We think so,” Wilson said. He typed a short password.
“Why didn’t Sloan change her route?” Raven said.
“We’re asking the same thing, Sam.”
Raven glanced at Tanya for an answer. She shrugged. Her wide eyes told him she had no answer either.
Wilson waved her over. “We need you to check the picture.”
“If you already know—”
“We’d like the confirmation, Ms. Jafari.” He stepped back as she came over. “Are those her remains?” he asked.
She leaned close to see the screen. “Body is charred.”
“Part of her hijab survived the fire.”
“I see it. She wore the tiger stripes because they matched our training uniforms.”
“She wore it in the photo you gave us.”
“Yes.” Tanya stepped back. “You pulled two teeth out?”
“With pliers, yeah. Nasty work.”
Wilson pressed a button. Tanya winced.
“Close up,” Wilson told Raven. To Tanya, “Well?”
“It’s her. There’s enough of her face left. I can tell it’s her.”
“The CIA thanks you for your service, Ms. Jafari.” Wilson closed the laptop.
Tanya appeared sullen as she dropped into a chair. Raven went over to her. He sat next to her and put an arm around her. She touched his hand.
It took a lot to betray friends. Whatever her disgust of the Islamic Union’s actions, bonds had been forged.
“We’re going to need more information,” Wilson said, “about other active Union operatives.”
She nodded. “The second- and third-in-command will take over now,” she said. “You want their names?”
“It will help.”
She named two men. Wilson scribbled their names on a pocket notebook.
“They’ll scatter to safe houses,” she said. “I don’t know where.”
“You know of at least one, right.”
She nodded. “The one I would have used in an emergency, yes. It’s in Damascus.” She gave the address. Wilson made another note.
“What else?” she asked.
“No more tonight,” he said. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, Sam, why don’t you take her out and get some