Larnaca, CyprusF
atima Osman barged into Rich Groscost’s office without knocking. The MNIE Chief of Mission looked up from the intercept he was reading. There had been a bombing at the Hezbollah headquarters in Beirut, and early reports were speculating that boss-man Hassan Nasrallah might have been injured or killed. He eyed the cell phone Fatima was waving in his direction and decided there was about to be a shift in mission priorities.
“There’s been a problem.” She slammed the phone down on his desk and pointed at the screen which showed 666 in a text message on the Horiya net. “That’s the code I told the courier to send if there was trouble.”
“That’s all you got?” Groscost scrolled through the messages. There was nothing he hadn’t seen before. “Nothing else? No indication of what ha
