Avenged (Hostage Rescue Team Series) (Volume 5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

with their constant meddling.
    Something had to be done, and Ayman was determined to be a part of the answer. Though he hated to cause shame for his parents, he wouldn’t back out now. This was his chance to make something of himself and even the score against the country that had given him and his fellow Muslims nothing but misery. He stood to make a good bit of coin, too. If he pulled off this job he’d get a hundred thousand dollars deposited into his account, from an offshore company filled by donations from supporters of The Brethren around the world.
    The hot, cramped apartment smelled musty and of last night’s fish dinner that Jaleel had cooked on the hotplate. All the threadbare blinds were pulled over the windows, creating deceptively cooling shadows. He shut the door and strode to where the ancient TV sat in the corner of the main room. The tattered, stained couch cushions sagged beneath his weight as he sank onto them and turned on the news. They couldn’t afford cable but using his tech skills Jaleel had been able to piggyback a connection from the apartment below them.
    The breaking news headline was at the bottom of the screen, and he recognized Dulles airport in the background.
    Gunman killed in apparent suicide attack at Dulles International , it read.
    Ayman shoved upright and stared at the screen, heart pounding as the reporter detailed what had happened. FBI agents were on scene to investigate and the airport was still on lockdown. The lone gunman had been killed by security agents.
    Lone gunman? There should have been others. At least three more, from what Ayman had heard. Even though Ayman hadn’t known the dead man personally, he felt a pang of sadness and said a silent prayer for him. Peace be upon you, my brother. May Allah welcome you into paradise with your fellow warriors.
    The reporter droned on and on about what was happening at the airport. All outgoing flights had been suspended, and all incoming ones grounded until further notice. Ayman shook his head in annoyance. Who cared? What about the woman the gunman had gone there to kill?
    After five more minutes and no mention whatsoever of any other casualties besides one security agent, Ayman got his answer. She was still alive.
    He shut off the TV and rubbed a hand over his face. Now what? Ayman had memorized everything from the file The Brethren had assembled about her. His network had been plotting Taya Kostas’s death for weeks now, and even with the help of an insider their attempt had failed. They’d held off on targeting her until she arrived in D.C. for the trial, wanting to coordinate the attack as close to the others as possible.
    We should have killed her when she was vulnerable at home.
    The burner phone he’d picked up two days ago rang in his pocket, startling him. He was surprised to see the number on his display. The elders had never contacted him directly before. “Hello?”
    “Did you hear?” the man, an elder at his mosque, asked in Arabic.
    “Yes. Just.” He pushed out a frustrated breath. “What do you want to do now?”
    Mahmoud gave an impatient grunt. “Find her and the others. We already know where both men and one of the women are. Now that the whore is in the city it will be even easier to find her.”
    “But now they’ll have more security on her,” Ayman pointed out. Federal agents.
    “That doesn’t matter. Our people aren’t afraid to do what must be done, regardless of the threat. Unless… you’re afraid?”
    Ayman frowned at the man’s tone, the threatening edge to it. Mahmoud was not a man who took disappointment well. Ayman was fully prepared to take this on and had no intention of crossing him. “I’m not afraid.”
    “Good. Find her. Let me know when you do.”
    The line went dead. Ayman set the phone down on the battered table in front of the sofa. So The Brethren had already located both male witnesses—both former mujahedin who had fought with and then for Qureshi before betraying