Three weeks later, Tarek entered the tactical command room two levels below his office. The room was filled with some of Jawahir’s best logistic officers, military minds, and intelligence analysts.
His brother, Jameel, an elite MIT graduate and computer genius, lifted his hand in greeting before returning his focus on the bank of monitors on the far wall. High-resolution images of Cold Methods Security Compound were displayed on the center screen.
“What is the team’s ETA?” he demanded.
“They are in position now,” Abdal replied.
Tension rolled off the young tech. Tarek knew that Abdal’s sister, Selima, was part of the team going in.
This was a perilous maneuver. The only reason it had been sanctioned was because of his father and Qadir’s tireless negotiations with the Lithuanian anti-t
