W. E. B. Griffin Rogue Asset by Andrews & Wilson by Brian Andrews & Jeffrey Wilson

Author:Brian Andrews & Jeffrey Wilson [Andrews, Brian & Wilson, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-12-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Toyota Land Cruiser

Westbound on Morada Road

Khartoum, Sudan

March 20, 5:20 p.m.

From where he sat in the Toyota Land Cruiser’s rear captain’s seat, McCoy leaned in so he could see out the windshield. He kept his gaze fixed on the taillights of the black sedan three cars ahead as they crossed the White Nile on Victory Bridge heading west.

Shaker continued to impress McCoy with his considerable aptitude for tailing the target vehicle. Not only did he maintain a proper standoff distance, he didn’t panic if he lost sight of the target for brief periods when interfering vehicles changed lanes or maneuvered in disadvantageous ways. Tailing a vehicle without aerial backup—satellite or drone support overhead—was a stressful and difficult operation. Most people, even pros, eventually got flustered and screwed up. With Shaker, so far so good.

“We’re leaving Khartoum and heading into Umm Durmān,” Shaker said, changing lanes and accelerating slightly to close the range to the sedan, which he’d let open up on the bridge. “Umm Durmān is a very large city, over two and half million people, that is growing very fast. Khartoum expansion is limited to the east by the Blue Nile and the west by the White Nile, so all of the growth is either west in Umm Durmān into the desert or north of the confluence in North Khartoum.”

“Any guesses where this guy might be going?” Castillo asked.

“No. Umm Durmān is a huge, sprawling place. The farther west you travel the lower the economic status. Much of the city is what we call third-class residential—very poor areas and slums. This place has become a mecca for refugees, especially from South Sudan and Darfur, but at its heart Umm Durmān is an Arab city, which sometimes leads to conflict.”

McCoy resisted the urge to look out the side windows as they continued west into the heart of the city on the main east–west thoroughfare—a four-lane paved highway that seemed to be increasingly populated by buses on this side of the Nile.

“When do we get eyes, Junior?” McCoy asked.

“Soon, bro,” Junior promised in his ear. “I just checked back and we’ll have Ani up on the satellite feed in thirty or forty-five minutes.”

McCoy clenched his jaw. Just exactly too late.

“He just cut in front of that bus,” Castillo said, urgency in his voice.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Shaker said. “Don’t worry.”

“Watch that van. He’s gonna cut us off and we’ll lose the target.”

Shaker accelerated and blasted his horn just as a dilapidated van attempted to cut them off and pass a bus in front of them. The van jerked violently right, back into its lane a split second before what would have been a collision with their Land Cruiser.

McCoy scanned the traffic ahead, looking for the taillights they’d been following.

“Got him,” he said, locking his gaze on the target vehicle just before it maneuvered again. “He just moved back into the passing lane—the third car ahead of us.”

Back at the safe house in Khartoum, Ani was still working as their coordinator. Without eyes in the sky, there wasn’t much she could do.

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