Luciano’s patience had run out. These men weren’t going to divulge anything. They were bound by their loyalty to their terror cell.
“Haqazzii,” Luciano said. “You going to blow up these buildings? Who do you work for?”
“The Bomb Maker,” said the second one. “We work for him.”
“Tell us his name,” Luciano rasped.
Gabriel walked over to the man on the floor, pointed his Glock at the man’s head. “Someone tells us or this one goes.”
The third one shoved out of his chair and lunged for Gabriel.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Luciano opened fire and the man dropped, blood pouring from his wounds.
The one on the floor started crawling toward Luciano. “You die! You die!”
BANG!
Gabriel shot him in the head and he stilled.
“Last chance,” Luciano said to the second one. “Who is The Bomb Maker?”
“He is in America and he will kill you all,” said the thug. “I die to honor him.”
Movement caught Luciano’s eye. From the back of the building, a man dressed in blackran toward them, a rifle cradled in his arms. He eyed the man on the floor, shouted in Arabic, and pulled to an abrupt stop, hatred spewing from his every pore.
The second man jumped up. “Kill them!”
“Death to Americans!” screamed the armed terrorist.
Luciano and Gabriel opened fire on both men.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The terrorist dropped, his body riddled with bullets, and the second slumped forward on the table, blood oozing from his head.
“Who the hell is The Bomb Maker?” Gabriel asked, as he holstered his weapon.
“I don’t know,” Luciano replied, doing the same with his Glock. “But I know someone who will.”
Moving swiftly, they exited the warehouse. The waiting limo had moved down the street. It flashed its lights, drove toward them. Luciano texted the pilots that he was returning to Heathrow and received confirmation they were ready to depart.
“Where are you headed?” Luciano asked.
“Back to Italy,” Gabriel replied. “I need a ride to the airport.”
“How did you get here?”
“My contact. The one who drove the van of prisoners.”
“Someone you can trust?” Luciano asked as the driver exited the vehicle, opened the door for him.
“Trust?” Gabriel shook his head. “What the hell is that?”
Luciano tossed a nod toward the limo driver. Gabriel pulled out his Glock, and the driver flicked her gaze to the weapon.
“This isn’t going to get ugly, is it?” she asked.
