Read Online Fog of War (Justin Hall # 3) by Ethan Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Ethan Jones
Tags: General Fiction
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the traffic. Look, I’m giving you all I know. Those shooters told me there’s a bounty on your head because of a fatwa. ”
Suleyman’s words caught Justin completely off guard. “Huh? What? A bounty?” he asked. Perhaps that’s why Suleyman was so eager to pull the trigger.
“Yes. A million dollars if someone kills you. Not dead or alive. Just dead.”
“Al-Shabaab put a million-dollar bounty on me?”
Suleyman nodded. “They did, or at least that’s what they told me.”
Justin eased on the gas pedal. They had come to a red light.
“What did these shooters look—”
His words were interrupted by Suleyman pushing open the door on his side. Nathan raised his pistol, but Suleyman had already slipped out of the car.
“Stay in,” Justin shouted at Nathan. “We’ll get him.”
Justin jumped the curb, driving on the sidewalk, attempting to cut him off. Suleyman broke into a fast sprint, cutting across the two-lane street, through the fast moving traffic.
Nathan said, “No, stop—”
Suleyman never saw the school bus that ended his life. It zoomed from the opposite direction, hitting him in the back. Suleyman splattered against the windshield. His body fell underneath the bus, while the driver struggled to bring the huge vehicle to a wavering, screeching stop.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Justin said. “This place will be teeming with police in minutes.”
They got out of the Nissan and left it parked on the sidewalk. Nathan wiped his fingerprints off Suleyman’s pistol and tossed it back into the car. Justin cleaned the steering wheel and the door handles.
Justin said, “Let’s take our luggage and fly out before the police connect the dots. We learned everything we could from Suleyman. It’s time to say goodbye to Ashgabat.”
Chapter Five
Washington Dulles International Airport
Virginia, United States of America
September 22, 4:05 p.m. local time
Justin swirled his tall cup and took the last big sip from his Starbucks dark espresso roast. He stood and tossed the cup at a small garbage can about five feet away. The cup bounced over the edge of the can, then fell in. Justin smiled. A three-pointer from downtown.
It was his second cup since he arrived from Frankfurt, where he had parted ways with Nathan, sending him back to Cairo. Justin had spent last night at the Sheraton Frankfurt Congress Hotel before catching the next available flight to the States. It was a nice but short break after the events in Iran and Turkmenistan. He had briefed McClain about the incident in Ashgabat and the information obtained from Suleyman about the fatwa—an Islamic legal ruling, in this case, a death sentence ruling—against him. Justin had not allowed that information to unnerve him. His life was in danger at all times. It was a professional hazard. And most of the time, the fatwas remained just a warning, issued by powerless clerics who could not mobilize anyone to carry out their threats.
But, this death sentence had come with a bounty, a million-dollar prize on his head. The hefty sum would attract a few goons of the most dangerous kind. Justin needed a pair of eyes to watch his back. Here’s where Carrie came into play.
Carrie O’Connor was Justin’s partner in almost all operations. After two tours of duty in Afghanistan—where she served with Joint Task Force Two—Carrie joined the CIS. She took to heart the motto of her unit: Facta non verba. Deeds, not words. According to Carrie, the most efficient solution to a problem was often also the most extreme. The one she always favored. In this case, the solution would be to storm into al-Shabaab’s home base of operations and kill them all.
Justin had arrived forty-five minutes ago and was waiting for Carrie in Concourse B. She was taking Lufthansa too, but her flight had been delayed. He sat next to his Samsonite suitcase and briefcase and looked at the men and women rushing by. He
Suleyman’s words caught Justin completely off guard. “Huh? What? A bounty?” he asked. Perhaps that’s why Suleyman was so eager to pull the trigger.
“Yes. A million dollars if someone kills you. Not dead or alive. Just dead.”
“Al-Shabaab put a million-dollar bounty on me?”
Suleyman nodded. “They did, or at least that’s what they told me.”
Justin eased on the gas pedal. They had come to a red light.
“What did these shooters look—”
His words were interrupted by Suleyman pushing open the door on his side. Nathan raised his pistol, but Suleyman had already slipped out of the car.
“Stay in,” Justin shouted at Nathan. “We’ll get him.”
Justin jumped the curb, driving on the sidewalk, attempting to cut him off. Suleyman broke into a fast sprint, cutting across the two-lane street, through the fast moving traffic.
Nathan said, “No, stop—”
Suleyman never saw the school bus that ended his life. It zoomed from the opposite direction, hitting him in the back. Suleyman splattered against the windshield. His body fell underneath the bus, while the driver struggled to bring the huge vehicle to a wavering, screeching stop.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Justin said. “This place will be teeming with police in minutes.”
They got out of the Nissan and left it parked on the sidewalk. Nathan wiped his fingerprints off Suleyman’s pistol and tossed it back into the car. Justin cleaned the steering wheel and the door handles.
Justin said, “Let’s take our luggage and fly out before the police connect the dots. We learned everything we could from Suleyman. It’s time to say goodbye to Ashgabat.”
Chapter Five
Washington Dulles International Airport
Virginia, United States of America
September 22, 4:05 p.m. local time
Justin swirled his tall cup and took the last big sip from his Starbucks dark espresso roast. He stood and tossed the cup at a small garbage can about five feet away. The cup bounced over the edge of the can, then fell in. Justin smiled. A three-pointer from downtown.
It was his second cup since he arrived from Frankfurt, where he had parted ways with Nathan, sending him back to Cairo. Justin had spent last night at the Sheraton Frankfurt Congress Hotel before catching the next available flight to the States. It was a nice but short break after the events in Iran and Turkmenistan. He had briefed McClain about the incident in Ashgabat and the information obtained from Suleyman about the fatwa—an Islamic legal ruling, in this case, a death sentence ruling—against him. Justin had not allowed that information to unnerve him. His life was in danger at all times. It was a professional hazard. And most of the time, the fatwas remained just a warning, issued by powerless clerics who could not mobilize anyone to carry out their threats.
But, this death sentence had come with a bounty, a million-dollar prize on his head. The hefty sum would attract a few goons of the most dangerous kind. Justin needed a pair of eyes to watch his back. Here’s where Carrie came into play.
Carrie O’Connor was Justin’s partner in almost all operations. After two tours of duty in Afghanistan—where she served with Joint Task Force Two—Carrie joined the CIS. She took to heart the motto of her unit: Facta non verba. Deeds, not words. According to Carrie, the most efficient solution to a problem was often also the most extreme. The one she always favored. In this case, the solution would be to storm into al-Shabaab’s home base of operations and kill them all.
Justin had arrived forty-five minutes ago and was waiting for Carrie in Concourse B. She was taking Lufthansa too, but her flight had been delayed. He sat next to his Samsonite suitcase and briefcase and looked at the men and women rushing by. He
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