It was built for concealment, not speed, and worked fairly well when the weather was cold or rainy, when we could cover the bulk with coats, but sort of sucked in the summertime. Luckily, Albania was still a pretty formal place, with nobody wearing shorts and most men sporting leather coats or cheap woolen blazers. Brett was no monster in height, but he was built like a fireplug of solid muscle. Given his size, the harness worked for him. He could pull it off, but I wasn’t sure Jennifer’s jacket would cut the mustard.

I said, “Leave it. Rashid’s definitely up to something, but I don’t think it’s an attack. Take a Glock. The last thing we need is you getting busted by some stranger because you’ve got a suppressor hanging out of your hem.”

She slid a suppressed Glock 30 compact into a concealed sleeve on the side of the duffel bag she called a purse. It looked like someone had skinned a water buffalo to make it, and she packed it with all manner of feminine bullshit and Taskforce kit. I swear, I had no idea how she lugged it around everywhere.

She rearranged some things in the bag—probably making sure she could get to her lipstick—snapped it closed, then pecked me on the check. “See you soon.”

“Get a radio check with Knuckles.”

She nodded, slid out of the vehicle, and jogged across the road. She reached the fence next to the café and found a break the locals used. She scampered past the goat pen and I heard, “Knuckles, Knuckles, this is Koko, I’m about two minutes out.”

58

After twenty minutes of instruction on the weird detonation devices, Omar was growing impatient. He wanted to test one.

He said, “Look, I don’t care about what type of chemicals are in the vials or why they react the way they do when mixed together. I’m not going to be building my own, and I left school at the age of ten. All I care about is that it will set off explosives. Will it or not?”

The gap-toothed man said, “Yes, of course it will. I’m sorry. I was told to give you all the information that I was given.”

He removed one of the detonators from the table and held it up. About the size of a pack of cigarettes, it had no metal that Omar could see, with a black rubber button that protruded on one side, a tiny lever on the other, and twin nozzles on the bottom that looked like they’d come from an aquarium pump.

He said, “The device is completely immune to any current metal or explosives detection capability known today. Everything is rubber, glass, or plastic, with the exception of a single piece of steel inside, much too small to alert anything.”

He waved to his partner, who picked up the smartphone. “On the surface, this replicates an ordinary cell phone. You can swipe left and right and pull up applications. The difference is that the applications are only shells and the phone cannot call anything. It should pass a cursory inspection, but if someone spends more than a minute inspecting it, they’ll know it’s a fake.”

Omar said, “What’s it for?”

Gap-tooth stuck a toothpick into what appeared to be the headphone jack, then levered upward. The front of the shell rotated out, exposing wires, circuit boards, and the battery—five triple-A-size cylinders encased in a plastic sleeve, a double strand of wire running out of the end. He popped the sleeve, exposing two glass cylinders, two metal blasting caps, and a true battery. He said, “The phone holds the chemicals and blasting caps. It’s padded for travel and protection, and will reflect like ordinary batteries on an X-ray scan.”

He palmed it, showing the cylinders. They each held a colorless fluid inside. He set the phone on the table and returned to the plastic device. He popped off the top and leaned it forward, showing what looked like a receptacle for holding batteries in a television remote control, two parallel to each other.

He said, “Before you put them inside, you have to cock the device. That’s the only drawback, really. Once they’re in, the thing is armed, and it really hasn’t been drop tested or anything. By cocking it, you’re basically drawing back that little section of steel with rubber bands, which is held by a dual check.”

He moved the lever on the side from top to bottom. He let go, and it flew back to the top. He shook his head and said, “That’s what I mean. Sometimes it doesn’t catch.” He did it again, more forcefully, and the lever stayed down. “Be sure you lock it in.”

He then slid the vials into the tube and closed the lid. Omar said, “Does it matter which one goes in what tube?”

“No. You’re going to smash the tubes and mix up the chemicals. It doesn’t matter the order.”

He closed the lid and said, “Now it’s armed. All you need to do is connect the nonelectric firing tubes to the bottom, then press this button. It will release the metal breaker, and the chemicals will mix.”

“How soon? How long does it take?”

“It’s not instant. Maybe a second before the chemicals react, but when they do, it’s a miniature explosion, with the jet of flame directed down the valves at the bottom. The man holding it will lose his hand.”

Omar said, “That’s of no consequence. What about the explosives? And I was supposed to get three detonators.”

“Yes, yes. First, there’s one more thing you need to know. The button is a dead man’s switch. You push it in, and the breaker releases from one catch, but is still held by another. That catch releases when the button is released.”

Omar smiled, “Dead man’s switch. So once it’s pressed, the only thing keeping it from going off is the man holding the device. Killing him does no good.”

Gap-tooth flashed his tobacco-stained molars in what passed for a smile and said, “Precisely.”

“And the explosives?”

The other man came forward and handed Omar what looked like a luggage retrieval receipt. “All of it is packed and ready to go at the Tirana airport, in the lost luggage section. It’s safeguarded, and the men watching it have been paid handsomely, don’t worry. They have no idea what it is, but we’ve done business with them many, many times. You present this, along with your flight information, and the bags will be loaded with the appropriate luggage tags for your final destination.”

Omar felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Having purchased it this morning, only two people knew the number. The two he had for security outside.

He held up a finger and said, “I must take this.”

He turned away from the men, jamming his hand into the pocket with the pistol. He said, “Yes?”

“Omar, there are people outside of the amphitheater. We’ve watched them for a while, and they’re not acting like they’re here for the sunshine. One, a woman, has passed back and forth three times.”

He glanced at the men in the room and said, “You are positive?”

“Yes. She’s not Albanian. She’s foreign. Her dress is off, and she’s constantly talking into a cell phone. What do you want to do?”

He withdrew the gun and pointed it at the men. They took a step back in shock, raising their hands. He said, “Take her out of play, but I want her alive. Get her to your place. Do not go to mine. I’ll meet you there.”

He hung up and said, “I was told to come here alone, as were you. Who is outside of this building? Who’s the woman?”

As if he’d been in such situations many times, Gap-tooth calmly said, “Yes, you were told to come alone, and clearly you didn’t. We have done the same. We only have some security. You must understand. But we have no women. It’s not us.”

There was a crack from outside. It could have been a car backfiring, or maybe some children playing with fireworks, but nobody in the room believed it.

The other man jammed his hand into his leather jacket, got a pistol halfway out, and Omar fired, catching him in the right cheek, the left half of his face exploding outward. He fell, and Omar dove at Gap-tooth, preventing him from drawing his own weapon. He slammed the man into the concrete, ripping the detonator from Gap-tooth’s hand and twisting his arm ferociously. He felt the tendons snap, and the man screamed, his fetid dental work wide-open. Omar jammed the end of the detonator in his mouth and punched the button.