69
The dock looked like something out of a movie, only the smell was worse—dead fish, stale beer, and sea gull crap. Jarrah stepped onto the Egyptian cargo ship, MV Red Glory. From the top of the gangplank, he turned and saw the white cargo van pulling away.
“Allah be with you,” he said, then disappeared into a cargo hold on the port side.
Uncle Bill was viewing three different computer monitors and talking to NSA headquarters, known to insiders as The Box, at the same time. He pulled Cade’s thumb drive out of the USB port and looked at it; 8GB was stamped onto the side.
“Cade, where did you get this thumb drive?” said Bill.
“Ah, I don’t know. Wal-Mart maybe.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Wal-Mart sells thumb drives that can hold this much data.”
“What do you mean?” said Cade.
“We’ve got a
