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asked. “Who are you?”
    “It is from Mr. van Assen.”
    “Mr. van Assen? Why did he not bring it himself?”
    “He was injured in one of the explosions,” Kusum said. “He told us to give it to the director personally.”
    The woman sucked in a surprised breath.
    The guards didn’t appear as moved as she was, though. The older one asked, “What section are you with?”
    “Section?” Sanjay said. “We work directly for Mr. van Assen. We have only just arrived. He had just picked us up from our plane and brought us here when all the bombs went off.”
    “IDs, now,” the guard said.
    Sanjay could feel the cold metal of his gun pressing against this back and wanted to pull it out, but knew he’d be dead before it even cleared his side. He needed to stall until he had more of an advantage.
    “IDs?” Kusum said before Sanjay could figure out a reply. “Are you joking? They are in our luggage, still up in the car. Or should we have stopped to grab our bags before running for cover?”
    “Please, we must see Director Mahajan,” Sanjay said.
    The older guard stared at them for a moment before motioning to a couple chairs along the wall. “Sit down.”
    “We have no time to sit down,” Sanjay said. “Do you not know what is going on out there?” He looked at the woman again. “You need to tell the director we are here. You need to let—”
    “I said sit down!” the guard ordered.
    “There is no reason to treat us like—”
    The guard stepped over and shoved Sanjay toward the chairs.
    “Okay, okay,” Kusum said. “We will sit. Just get the director.”
    They lowered themselves into the chairs, Sanjay in the one closest to the guards.
    The older one touched a microphone clipped to his shoulder. “This is Buckner in the director’s office. I need to talk to somebody up top.” There was a pause as he listened. “As soon as someone has a moment, then. I’m looking for Mr. van Assen or anyone who’s seen him…okay, hurry.” He dropped his hand from his mic and looked back at Sanjay and Kusum. “Get comfortable. You’re not going anywhere near the director until we confirm your story.”
    “We understand,” Kusum said. “Whatever is necessary.”
    As she spoke, she moved her hand behind Sanjay and nudged him until he angled his body toward the guards. She then matched his position, her shoulder and left arm hidden behind his back.
    It was all he could do to keep his expression blank as she wrapped her hand around the grip of his gun.

3
     
    CAIRO, EGYPT
    9:29 AM EET (EASTERN EUROPEAN TIME)
     
     
    R AHEEM BAHAR TRAINED his binoculars on the main gate of the Cairo survival station.
    One, two, three, four… the seconds ticked off in his head… seven, eight, nine—
    The explosion rolled down the empty Cairo streets. Though a cloud of dust obscured Raheem’s view, he knew at the very least the gate should’ve been destroyed.
    He shifted the binoculars just in time to catch the second explosion as it punched a hole fifty meters farther down the wall enclosing the facility. Number three was clear over on the other side, and four, five, six, and seven hopped back and forth around the perimeter in no discernible pattern. This was just the beginning. There were still more than two dozen timed explosions waiting their turn.
    He scanned the interior of the station and smiled. Project Eden personnel were scrambling around in chaos. A check of the holding areas where the survivors were imprisoned revealed that several people were outside the huts, trying to see what was going on.
    Raheem picked up his radio. “Insertion teams, status.”
    “Team one moving through east wall, section A.”
    “Team two inside, west wall, section Q.”
    “Team three repositioning. Blast only cracked the wall at section N. Entering through alternate section M.”
    Four more teams reported. Each had either made its way inside the facility or was in the process of doing so.
    Raheem turned his mic on again. “Second