Chapter Twenty-One
Qom, Iran
Through the visor of his XM50 mask, Denton observed the rocky mountain peaks south of Qom. Behind him, boots crunched over debris. He turned to see the team leader approach.
‘We’ve swept the factory for the third time,’ the team leader said, his tinny voice amplified through his mask’s voicemitter. ‘There’s nothing to recover here, Colonel.’
Denton went to fold his arms, but the nuclear, biological and chemical warfare suit he was wearing made the movement too uncomfortable. He settled for hands on hips instead.
‘You’ve spent the entire afternoon in this factory and you haven’t even found a goddamn finger?’ he said.
‘I’m afraid not. The only bodies we’ve recovered are in the surrounding streets. No evidence inside the factory at all.’
Denton grunted. ‘An
