The Teeth of the Tiger - Tom Clancy [106]
Yes.
And he and his friends would make more sacrifices by slaughtering the unbelievers.
Yes.
Then he saw a sign for INTERSTATE HIGHWAY 64-but it was to the west, the wrong one. They had to go east, to cross the eastern mountains. Mustafa closed his eyes and remembered the map he'd looked at so many times. North for about an hour, then east. Yes.
"Brian those shoes are going to come apart in the next few days."
"Hey, Dom, I ran my first four-and-a-half-minute mile in these," the Marine objected. You remembered and treasured such moments.
"Maybe so, but next time you try that, they're going to come apart and beat the shit out of your ankle."
"Think so? Bet you a buck you're wrong."
"You're on," Dominic said at once. They shook hands formally on the wager.
"They look pretty scruffy to me, too," Alexander observed.
"You want me to buy new T-shirts, too, Mom?"
"They'll self-destruct in another month," Dominic thought aloud.
"Oh, yeah! Well, I outshot your ass with my Beretta this morning."
"Luck happens," Enzo sniffed. "See if you can make it two in a row."
"I'll put five bucks on that."
"Deal." Another handshake. "I could get rich this way," Dominic said. Then it was time to think about dinner. Veal Piccata tonight. He had a thing for good veal, and the local stores had nice stuff. Pity about the calf, but he hadn't been the one to cut its throat.
There: I-64, next exit. Mustafa was tired enough that he might have given the driving over to Abdullah, but he wanted to finish himself, and he figured he could handle another hour. They were heading for a pass in the next range of mountains. Traffic was heavy, but in the other direction. They climbed up the highway toward yes, there it was, a shallow mountain pass with a hotel on the south side-and then out onto a vista of a most pleasant valley to the south. A sign proclaimed its name, but the letters were too confusing for him to get them into his head as a coherent word. He did take in the view, off to his right. Paradise itself could scarcely have been more lovely-there was even a place to pull over, get out and take in the sight. But, of course, they had not the time. It was fitting that the drive was gently downhill, and it changed his mood entirely. Less than an hour to go. One more smoke to celebrate the timing. In the back, Rafi and Zuhayr were awake again, taking in the scenery. It would be their last such opportunity.
One day of rest and reconnaissance-time to coordinate via e-mail with their three other teams-and then they could accomplish their mission. That would be followed by Allah's Own Embrace. A very happy thought.
CHAPTER 13-MEETING PLACE
After two thousand-plus miles of driving, the arrival was entirely anticlimactic. Not a kilometer off Interstate 64 was a Holiday Inn Express, which looked satisfactory, especially since there was a Roy Rogers immediately next door and a Dunkin' Donuts not a hundred meters uphill. Mustafa walked in and took two connecting rooms, paying with his Visa card out of the Liechtenstein bank. Tomorrow they'd go exploring, but for now all that beckoned was sleep. Even food was not important at this moment. He moved the car to the first-floor rooms he'd just leased, and switched off the engine. Rafi and Zuhayr unlocked the doors, then came back to open the trunk. They took their few bags in, and under them the four sub-machine guns still wrapped in thick, cheap blankets.
"We are here, comrades," Mustafa announced, entering the room. It was an entirely ordinary motel, not the more luxurious hotels they'd become accustomed