61. Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter sixty-one
“Do it,” Doctor Kadare was saying. “Do it now.”
Kadare sat in the passenger seat, hands curled into fists atop his thighs and his brow furrowed as he watched the American agents sifting through the computers, his life’s work, like vultures picking at a corpse. His mouth worked into a frown.
“What are you waiting for?” he hissed.
“Patience, Doctor.” The Captain held a remote trigger in one hand, and observed the foreigners as they dismantled the computers.
Those hard drives had sensitive intel, but Zeqiri was confident that the Americans would not live long enough to do anything with the information.
Zeqiri thrust his chin at the screen. “These are the scouts.”
With his free hand, Zeqiri cycled through the various cameras hidden around the property, until the screen showed an image of the exterior where a helicopter had just touched down and disgorged a small team of American commandos.
It was impossible to see their faces. They were hidden behind helmets and night vision goggles.
Was Goodman among them? The Captain thought it highly likely.
He hoped Goodman was there. He wanted to pay the American back for the death of his men.
“That’s what I was waiting for, Doctor.” Zeqiri watched with a small satisfied smile as the team of American operators—in his mind Goodman was the faceless man in the lead—hurried along the lane to the door of the factory and went to work cutting the tripwire.