At the back, there are bars blocking what looks to be a tunnel or another room. Atlas does a full circle, but there’s no one else down there. Only the three bodies. “All clear.”
Zeus joins him in the small room that’s bare of any signs of life. It must have been a last-minute decision to hide out in there because there aren’t even any rations.
Atlas approaches one of the bodies and holds his camera up to their face.
I gasp. “That’s Aziz Farouk. Farouk’s brother.”
Atlas moves to the next one.
“Hassan Khalid. Farouk’s right-hand man,” I say.
I hold my breath as Atlas goes to the last body. If this isn’t Farouk himself, we’ve failed, and he was never really there. Or he was part of the group of men who fled. They haven’t come back, and Alphabet’s, Scout’s, and Kevlar’s bodycams showed they never picked them up or took them out before they reached the helo. So the bad guys are still out there, either too scared to do something or planning to blow the whole palace to smithereens.
“This one looks like him,” Atlas says. “But I can’t be sure.”
For some reason, I slam my eyes shut. I don’t think I’m ready to face the possibility that it might not be him. But I know I need to do this.
Slowly, I open one eye and then the other.
I stare at the screen, at the lifeless face of a man who held so much power over the world. Over me. And in one quick swoop, relief I’ve never known washes over me.
“That’s him,” I say. “That’s Sabri Farouk.”
“Let’s roll out,” Atlas says, but then he stands upright and turns.
The image is shaky as he steps toward the gate at the back.
“We’re on the roof,” Trav says. “Alphabet and Kevlar are on their way to get Iris. Atlas and Zeus, you bring Farouk’s body. We need proof it’s him.”
It was the same situation with Osama Bin Laden when he was killed. Even with his body, there were claims the guy the US government killed wasn’t the real Bin Laden. But I know without a doubt in my mind, the man Atlas and Zeus killed is Farouk.
I studied this man and his entire family. It’s him. And not just because I want it to be with every bone in my body.
I want to ask if Iris is okay because he’s been quiet for a while, but I’m too scared. I also don’t want to interrupt their efforts to get everyone to the roof and safely on that Hawk.
I watch with bated breath as Scout helps Atlas and Decaf load Iris onto the helo while the others load Farouk’s body.
“Let’s get out of this hellhole,” Trav says.
“The mission’s not finished,” Atlas says.
“Huh?” Trav asks.
“I saw something down there. That wasn’t a typical bunker for hiding. I think … I think it was a jail cell.”
“And what did you see down there?”
“People. It might be more of Farouk’s men. It might not be.”
“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Trav says. “We can’t wait for you.”
“Go take Iris back to base and then turn around and come get me.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone.”
Zeus, Kevlar, and Alphabet volunteer to stay behind with Atlas.
“Round trip is fifteen minutes,” Trav says. “That’s all you get.”
They take off running back toward the palace while Trav lifts into the air.
“ETA seven minutes,” Trav says.
“I have to get back to the base.” I stand.
“You go,” Ghost says. “I’ve got the other guys.” He throws me the keys to the truck we took from the base. “Just don’t leave me here.”
“Someone will be back to pick you up.”
“Yeah, that’s what you guys said about Santa Monica. Yet, somehow, the next day, I found myself lugging all the equipment into an Uber by myself. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure Uber doesn’t cover this area.”
I actually manage a laugh as I leave, but my mood quickly turns somber.
I’m no longer connected to comms. I have no idea what’s going on, how Iris is doing, or how many minutes have gone by. All I know is I need to get back to the base, and I need to be there when Iris touches down.
My brain tells me if his femoral artery was nicked, there’s no way he’s still alive up there. Too much time has passed no matter how much pressure they’re putting on his leg.
But I’m not ready to give up yet. Iris is going to make it.
He has to.
Because if he doesn’t, I don’t think I’ll survive it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Iris
Ahh. There’s the sweet sound of relief.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
I’m freezing cold, but my thigh burns. It feels like there’s no end in sight for my pain.
But hearing that noise—the continual sound of the blades turning and turning, I know I’m still here. I’m still alive. I’m holding on.