Marauder (Oregon Files 15)

“That’s where they think we will attack, which is exactly why I have chosen a more suitable target.”

“Which is?”

Instead of answering, Sinduk paused as he peered at her. Finally, he said, “What do you think happened to our brothers who were caught hijacking the Dahar?”

Raven didn’t hesitate to answer. “How should I know?”

However, she knew exactly what happened. Raven was the one who had warned the Oregon about the impending assault. In her dealings with the group, she’d come across a single cryptic text message on a phone that mentioned the Dahar and Malacca. The Oregon had been able to set sail and intercept the tanker barely in time to foil the attack.

“I think someone new to our group was either careless or was spying on us,” Sinduk said.

The two men on either side of him stared at her, stone-faced.

“And you think it’s me?” Raven replied.

“No, not at all. In fact, we believe it was the boat driver. A man named Tanjung. We’ve since learned that his credentials claiming that he fought for ISIS in Syria were falsified.”

That was fake information planted by the CIA after the hijackers were apprehended. The intent was to cast blame on someone besides Raven, and it should have worked. Before joining the Corporation, she had been a U.S. Army Military Police investigator and then an executive protection specialist. As a Native American, her reddish brown complexion and jet-black hair had regularly caused her to be mistaken for an East Indian, Arab, or Latina, allowing her to take on many different roles during missions. For this operation, her backstory was as a jihadist originally from Saudi Arabia now living in Jakarta. Her credentials were airtight.

Nonetheless, Sinduk seemed skeptical about her.

“You still suspect me?” Raven asked. “Even after all the money I’ve secured for the cause?”

“I’m a careful man.”

Raven tensed, ready to fight if she had to. It would take time for the rest of her team to extricate her in an emergency.

“We’re two cars behind you,” came a honey-thickened Louisiana drawl in her ear. It was Marion MacDougal “MacD” Lawless, who’d been listening to her through the molar mic. “Be aware traffic back into the capital is moving slower than a Mardi Gras parade. If this is a fake-out, it’ll take us an hour to get back to the conference center.”

“So why bring me along?” Raven asked Sinduk.

“Because I want you to prove yourself. You need to show me that you’re really invested in our cause.”

“How?”

It couldn’

t be a suicide bombing. She would have felt a bomb in the backpack.

“The Americans sent two Senators to the summit. Certainly, those are the kind of highly priced targets that would get attention in the United States.”

“But we’re nowhere near the conference center,” Raven said.

“The security around Denpasar is impenetrable. We wouldn’t get within a half mile of the conference hotel before we were stopped.”

“But you want the attack to happen while they’re here.”

“It has to happen while they’re here. The Americans are arrogant. They think they are invulnerable. But we will show them that they are not safe anywhere.”

Sinduk picked up the backpack and unzipped it. He pulled out some clothes and tossed them to Raven.

“You’ll wear that,” he said.

She held up two small pieces of cloth. It was a blue and green bikini.

“You must be joking,” she said.

“You’re tall, but it should fit. You have to blend in with the tourists. Don’t worry, I have a sarong for you as well.” He handed her the sheer wrap.