Enemy of Mine by Brad Taylor

Author:Brad Taylor
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2013-01-15T06:00:00+00:00

38

Inching toward the desk in the Dubai immigration line, every step forward built a sense of dread within the Ghost. He had had no trouble leaving Yemen, including obtaining the necessary items for his mission, but then again, not many have particular trouble leaving a country. It’s getting in that’s tricky. Now, he was about to find out if his forged Dubai visa, coupled with his Jordanian passport, would withstand scrutiny.

He glanced again at the picture within the passport, mentally comparing it to his own visage. It should be close enough. They were both clean-shaven, and he’d purchased attire that was suitable for someone from Jordan. He closed the passport and studied the immigration desk, the people drawn toward it as if they were being sucked up by a slow vacuum.

Watching two more travelers go through the routine, he noticed each stiffen during the interview, rigidly facing the official behind the counter. He wondered what they were doing. He watched the next man, and it hit him: They were taking a digital photo and conducting a retinal scan. Of every person in line.

He ripped open the passport again, trying to find if it had some means of digital storage. All he saw was a bar code. Surely the Jordanian’s retinal scan wasn’t in that, was it? The Hashemite Kingdom didn’t include biometrics in their passports, did they? If so, he was doomed, because the scan of his eye wouldn’t match the scan in the passport.

He looked to the rear, contemplating moving back into the terminal and claiming he had gone the wrong way. That he had a connecting flight. But he had no connecting flight. No boarding pass to present. The glaring lack of documents would invite scrutiny. Questions he couldn’t answer.

While moving inexorably forward, he studied the immigration officials’ actions and relaxed a little. It didn’t appear as if they were comparing anything. Simply collating data, like what had happened to him yesterday with the Yemeni police.

The thought brought a bolt of adrenaline, causing his face to flush and sweat to pop on his neck. Did the Yemenis share such data? Was there a database on the Arabian Peninsula that was fed by such sweeps? It wouldn’t matter that he had no reason to be suspected of anything. The scan in Yemen was for a Saudi citizen, not the Jordanian passport he held in his hand. The difference alone would get him arrested. Then, when they gave his bags a much more thorough search than normal, they would find the explosives.

He looked up again and saw there was only one more person ahead of him. Too late to run now. He felt queasy, like he’d eaten something rotten. He should have done more research on Dubai immigration. He had thought using the Jordanian passport was the perfect break from all that Hezbollah knew, especially now that they were hunting him out of misplaced vengeance, but he wished he had stuck with the original forged passport.

The traveler behind him gently tapped his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

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