The Burial Hour (Lincoln Rhyme 13)

She gasped, and refused the tea Ibrahim offered. He sipped, clearly relishing the beverage.

"Now we come to the second reason you have been selected. You have family in Tunisia and Libya. Three sisters, two brothers, all of whom, praise be to God, have been blessed with children. Your mother too is still upon this earth. We know where they live. You will fulfill your obligation to us, complete these attacks, or they will be killed--every family member of yours from six-month-old Mohammed to your mother, as she returns from the market on the arm of her friend Sonja, who will die too, I should say."

"No, no, no..."

Ignoring the emotion complete

ly, Ibrahim whispered, "And now we come to the third reason you will help us in this mission. Upon completion of the assignment, you--and your husband and daughter--will be given new identities and a large sum of money. You will get British or Dutch passports and can move where you wish. What do you say?"

The only word she could.

"Yes." Sobbing.

Ibrahim smiled and finished the tea. "You and your family will travel to Italy as refugees. A smuggler I work with will give you details tonight. Once you arrive, you will be taken to a refugee camp for processing. A man named Gianni will contact you."

He'd risen and left, with not another word.

They'd no sooner landed in the Capodichino Reception Center than Gianni in fact called her. He explained in a guttural voice, clear and still as ice, that there would be no excuses. If she fell ill and could not detonate the bomb, her family would die. If she were arrested for stealing a loaf of bread and could not detonate the bomb, her family would die. If the bomb did not go off because of mechanical failure, her family would die. If she froze at the last moment...well, she understood.

And what should happen but, of all horrific coincidences, her husband had been snatched by that psychotic American! That in itself had been terrible--she loved him dearly--but the incident had also brought the police. Would they find the explosives and phone and detonator that Gianni had left for her? Would they relocate her and her daughter while they searched for Khaled?

Yet he had been saved.

That was, of course, wonderful. Yet it tore Fatima's heart in two. Because everyone, from Rania to the American police to the Italian officers, had worked so very hard--some even risking their lives--to save Khaled, a man they didn't know, a man who had come to this country uninvited.

Certainly there were those who resented immigrants but, apart from some protestors outside the camp, Fatima had yet to meet them. Why, look at the woman a moment ago.

Your daughter, she has the hair of an angel!

Most Italians were heartbreakingly sympathetic to the asylum-seeker's plight.

Which made what she was about to do, two hours from now, all the more shameful.

But do it she would.

If you fail in any way, your family will die...

But she wouldn't fail. She saw the target ahead of her. Less than two hours remained until the attack.

Fatima found a cluster of unoccupied benches not far from the water. She sat in one that faced the bay. So that no one could see her tears.

Chapter 63

The lead to the Royal Palace had been a bust. Rhyme was sure Gianni had made the call to the Tripoli coffeehouse solely to see how much the police knew and if they were tracking phones. He'd learned that they were and so he'd gone off the grid.

Without any chance of finding him via phones, and no physical leads to Fatima, the team turned to the question of what might the intended target of the bombing be. Speculation, sure, but it was all they had.

Because the refugee camp was near Naples airport, Rhyme and Spiro thought immediately that Fatima was going after an airplane or the terminal.

The prosecutor said, "She can't get a bomb on board an aircraft. But she might cut a hole in the fence, run to a full aircraft about to take off and detonate the device on the runway."

McKenzie said, "These aren't suicide attackers. They're remote detonation devices, using cell phones. I don't see airports. Train station maybe. Less security."

Rossi called security at Trenitalia. After disconnecting he said, "They're sending officers into the stations. We have our history of domestic terrorism too, like you in America. In nineteen eighty a terrorist group left a bomb in the central train station in Bologna--nearly twenty-five kilos. It was placed in the waiting room and because the day was hot--it was August--many people were inside the air-conditioned room. Very few buildings were air-conditioned in Italy then. Over eighty people were killed and more than two hundred wounded."

Spiro said, "And shopping malls, city centers, amusement areas, museums..."

Rhyme's eyes were on the map of Naples.