CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Reid’s phone chimed as the Gulfstream descended from the sky toward Athens.
It was Langley.
“You’re cutting it awfully close,” Reid answered. “We’re about to set down.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy to find,” Cartwright replied somberly. “Outside of the Syrian refugee registry, there wasn’t a single mention of a Muhammad al-Mahdi.” Reid’s heart sank for a moment, thinking Greece a dead end, until the deputy director added, “But we did locate an M. Mahdi. He’s had a suite reserved at the Athens Grand for eleven days now.”
Reid frowned. The Athens Grand is a five-star hotel, his brain told him. He had been there; he had a sudden and keen recollection of marble floors, vaulted ceilings, white columns, and suited bellboys. The way his memory was coming back was interesting, differ
