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In sum, the warehouse was an overwhelming maze of drilling and oil refining equipment, each aisle a labyrinth of rubber, copper, steel, and aluminum. Without knowing exactly where the recent pipe and drill shipment had been stored, it could take them an eternity just to get near it. Moreover, it was after hours, and the warehouse foremen had gone home for the evening.
“The most recent large shipment,” Fisher told one of the sergeants in Arabic, reciting the invoice number he’d memorized. “Delivered today.”
The troop had a schematic of the warehouse and delivery schedule displayed on an iPad mini. He called up the route, pointed toward a long row between racks on their right, and once more, the group took off jogging, with the prince bringing up the rear.
They rounded a corner, and the sergeant called for a halt to once more consult his tablet. He glanced up at the storage racks, numbered 329, 330, 331 . . . then his gaze pa
“Grim, are you seeing this?” Fisher muttered.
“Got everything. I don’t see anything that looks like a generator there.”
Fisher turned back to the troops. “Who’s got the radiation equipment? We need this sca
Two soldiers dropped their packs and fished out their portable radiation survey detection meters and wands.
Prince Shammari lumbered up behind the group and said, “What do you think of our warehouse?”
Fisher wasn’t sure how to answer. “Nice.”
“And this is the delivery you’re so worried about?”
“Yes, it is.” Fisher called for some more light, and the troops directed their flashlights onto the pipes and within them.
“I can assure you,” said the prince, parading up to Fisher and getting in his face. “This delivery has been thoroughly inspected by three of my engineers, by my radiological teams, and by anyone else we deemed necessary to ensure it is not, and I repeat, not some kind of explosive device that you and your people suggest may be en route here. These items were ordered months ago, and the company verifies the shipment and invoices through their own security perso
Fisher stood there.
Part of him felt deeply embarrassed, the other part ready to commit murder.
Shammari bared his teeth, but his lips curled into a grin.
Fisher averted his gaze. “We’ll be leaving now.”
33
BEFORE climbing into the Humvee, Fisher stole a moment to have a word with Grim, who’d been monitoring the conversation he’d had with Prince Shammari.
The wind was begi
“They still are.”
“Maybe Abqaiq’s not the target.”
“Then why are those Russians in Dammam?”
“Maybe it’s been the port all along. Or maybe the capital. Maybe it’s Riyadh. That’s only two hundred miles southwest.”
Fisher mouthed a curse and said, “We’re heading over to Dammam. We’ll see what we can pick up there. You keep working with Kasperov and his right-hand guy. I’ll be in touch.”
As they drove away from the warehouse, Prince Shammari glanced up from his surfboard-sized smartphone and a
“Haboob” was an amusing word for a very deadly and intense sandstorm common on the Arabian peninsula.
“Where are you headed now?” Shammari asked Fisher.
“Dammam.”
“Then you’d best hurry.”
“We will. I’m sorry we wasted your time. Your security is impressive.”
“As I’ve demonstrated.”
“Your deliveries here, they all come in by truck?”
“And by rail. With a few small ones by helicopter.”
“The oil is shipped by pipeline up to Dammam.”
“That’s correct.”
Fisher sat there, considering that.
“I hope for our sakes that you’re wrong,” said Shammari. “There is no plot. There is no bomb. I know we’ve been talking about terrorists with nuclear weapons for years, but the world ca
“I agree. But I’ve been doing this for a long time.” Fisher glanced out the window. “There’s a bomb out there. And we’re going to find it.”
* * *
BY the time they hit the helipad, the chopper was already warm since Fisher had called ahead to the pilot. They bid their tense and somewhat awkward good-byes to the prince and his troops, then started for the helicopter.
While stars shimmered directly overhead, the western sky was no more than a churning brown wave that consumed the entire horizon. Briggs pointed, and they both gasped.
This could be the largest and most formidable haboob Fisher had ever seen, and that was saying something because he’d spent enough time in Arab countries to ride out his share of storms. This bad weather could buy them some time. If the storm extended all the way up to the port it could shut down operations, perhaps delaying the oligarchs’ plan.
They climbed into the chopper, Briggs taking one of the backseats, Fisher up front with the pilot. They rolled shut the door, and just as they were lifting off, Grim called.
“Sam, I’ve got new intel from Kasperov. He called one of the oligarchs directly. Kargin, the guy who was talking to Chern. Kasperov threatened to unleash the Calamity Jane virus on the man’s company and holdings if he didn’t call off the attack.”
“Then it’s over?”
“Kasperov thinks Kargin killed himself while he was on the line. The guy said it’s too late. There’s nothing that can stop them now.”
“Aw, shit. Did he get anything else?”
“He didn’t, but his partner Ka
Fisher’s OPSAT flashed as Grim sent him a satellite map of the desert between Dammam and Abqaiq, with a flashing red line between the two. Fisher zoomed in on that line to expose a set of railroad tracks, noting how the railway left Dammam, ran right through Abqaiq between the Saudi Aramco compound and the processing plant, then arrowed farther south to Riyadh.
“Grim, what if they—”
“I’m ahead of you. The Saudis have GID agents at the port, and I confirmed with them that one of the Iranian ships offloaded an HEP car.”
“A what?”
“An HEP car. These are high-end power cars that sit directly behind the locomotives. They look like engines sitting backward and they generate extra power needed for refrigerator cars and tractor trailer cooling units. The Saudis have some older diesel locomotives and still use some of these power cars on their lines. There was nothing unusual about this shipment, and all the paperwork checked out with the railway.”
“So why are we interested?”
“Because that HEP car was attached to a locomotive carrying oil containers, twenty-one in all, and it’s the only shipment scheduled to run through Abqaiq this evening. It’s number 116.”