Countdown to Midnight by Dale Brown

Author:Dale Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-05-17T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Two

Almas Tower, Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Several Hours Later

Sixty-eight stories high, the shining steel-and-glass Almas Tower soared nearly twelve hundred feet into the air. Even then, it was only the eighth tallest of the more than two hundred high-rises that crowded Dubai’s skyline. Almas was the Arabic word for “diamond” and, seen from above, the tower’s shape resembled an enormous cut gemstone. It had been purpose-built to house firms linked to the UAE’s prosperous diamond, precious gemstones, and pearl trade—including Dubai’s Diamond Exchange. As a result, security was extremely tight. That factor alone had attracted the Quartet Directorate’s favorable attention back when the office tower opened. Now one of Four’s front organizations, Sykes-Fairbairn Strategic Investments, maintained a small office on one of the highest floors. Most of the time it was empty, serving only as a useful accommodation address that helped maintain the illusion that Sykes-Fairbairn was a legitimate investment firm with worldwide connections. Tonight, however, it provided a convenient place for a secure meeting only a hundred and sixty air miles from Bandar Abbas.

Nick Flynn stood at one of the office’s large windows, looking out across a sea of dazzling light. Dubai’s highways, skyscrapers, and extravagant, palm-shaped artificial islands were all brightly illuminated—turning night into near-day for miles along the coast. Life in this oasis of commerce and luxury ran around the clock.

Stifling a yawn, he rubbed hard at his tired eyes. Sleep had been scarce over the past seventy-two hours. He’d spent most of those hours arranging the safe departure of his Quartet Directorate ops team from Afghanistan—along with their gear, including the BushCat light plane and the Predator. Once that was done, and everything was on its way to storage in various warehouses Four owned in the United States, Middle East, and Europe, he’d flown directly here to confer with Fox and Gideon Ayish about possible next moves.

Just at the moment, however, they were all waiting to hear back from Fox’s contact inside the CIA. At a muttered “damn” from Fox, Flynn turned away from the windows in time to see the other man put his smartphone down with a frustrated expression on his thin face. “No joy from Langley?” he guessed.

Fox shook his head. “None.”

“As we expected,” Ayish reminded him with a shrug.

“Low expectations are one thing,” Fox said wryly. “Having them met in reality is another.” He tapped the phone. “I did pick up one piece of fresh information from my source, but it’s not good news either. The Gulf Venture has moved from the shipyards to a berth at the Bandar Abbas oil terminal.”

Flynn frowned. “So whatever the Iranians and their Raven Syndicate allies are planning must be about to kick off.”

“That is the most logical assumption,” Ayish agreed.

“And even knowing that, the CIA is really just going to sit by on its high and mighty ass and do damn-all?” Flynn asked.

“Langley won’t step on White House toes,” Fox explained quietly. “Not when the threat seems so low.”

“Low?” Flynn retorted. “That rocket I saw on the move is bigger than some of our ICBMs.

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