CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Awad bin Saddam stood on the bow of the small freighter, peering out over the dark water. In the distance, no more than two to three miles away, he could see the bright lights of the Chemical Coast, the New Jersey industrial port at which they would make their first stop.
He turned to the two men behind him. Both were dressed in the same gray jumpsuit as Awad was, zipped up the front from crotch to throat and emblazoned on the back with the orange logo of the freight company they were disguised as.
“Anil. Dilshad. You two will disembark here.” He handed Anil a slip of paper, folded in half, on which he had written their instructions. “Go to the parking lot beyond the docks. There you will find a white truck bearing the license plate that is written on that paper. The
