The Burial Hour (Lincoln Rhyme 13)

She asked Rania about the layout of the interior of the tent. The woman replied from memory: clothes neatly folded in cardboard boxes against the right wall, a dining area to the left. Prayer rugs rolled and put away. Three beds--one for the adults, one for their daughter, and a spare. Separated by sheet-like dividers.

Hell, good cover.

And the daughter, Muna, had a number of toys given to the family by volunteers. Rania remembered them scattered on the floor. "Be careful not to trip."

"Suitcases or trunks that someone might hide behind?"

Rania gave a sad laugh. "Plastic bags and backpacks are the only luggage these people bring with them."

Sachs touched Ercole's arm and he looked down into her eyes. She was pleased to see his own were confident, balanced. He was ready. She whispered, "You go right."

"Destra, yes."

Drawing her pistol, Sachs held her left index finger up in the air then pointed it forward. He too drew his Beretta and then she gestured to the door and, with a nod, pushed inside, moving very quickly.

Khaled Jabril gasped and dropped his glass of tea, which bounced on the Tyvek floor, scattering the steaming contents everywhere. Sachs stepped over the toys--and the boxes they had come in--and quickly swept aside the divider. He was the only occupant.

Khaled recognized Sachs, of course, but he was still groggy and disoriented from the drugs. "Aiiii. What is this?"

Sachs motioned Rania inside, then said to Khaled, "Your wife. Where is she?"

"I don't know. What is going on here? Is she all right?"

"Where did she go? And when?"

"Please tell me! I'm frightened."

It was clear he hadn't known about his wife's mission when he'd been interrogated, though Fatima might have explained later. But, after Sachs gave him a synopsis of Ibrahim and Gianni's plan of using her as an apparent terrorist, it was clear he was taken completely aback.

His initial response was a gasp of horror. But then he was nodding. "Yes, yes, she has not been herself. She has not been acting in a normal manner. Someone forced her to do this!"

"Yes, probably." Sachs crouched across from him and said in a firm tone, "Still she's going to hurt people, Khaled. Help us. We need to find her. Is she in the camp?"

"No. She left an hour ago. She was going to be buying some things for Muna. At the shop here in the camp or maybe at one of the vendors outside. I don't know if she said more. She might have. After my incident, after what happened to me, my mind is very, you would say, uncertain. Confused."

"Does she have her phone?"

"I suppose she does."

"Give me the number."

He did and Charlotte McKenzie, listening over speaker, said, "Got it. I'll send it to Fort Meade, see if they can track it."

Sachs asked the refugee, "Do you remember if she'd met with anyone recently? Did anyone give her anything?"

He frowned. "Perhaps...Let me think." He actually tapped his forehead. "Yes. She got a package. It was tea from her family."

Rania's stern but pretty face tightened in a grimace. "Yes, I remember."

He pointed to a locker. "I think she put it in there."

Ercole opened the lid and handed Sachs a brown cardboard carton.

Sachs held the box to her nose.

A sigh.

"This too," Ercole said. He'd found plastic wrapping for a cheap mobile phone, but not the label that gave the phone's number or details of the SIM card; Fatima had taken that with her.