The Belial Stone(66)

The file contained two large folders. One labeled “Twentieth Century and Later” and the other, “Nineteenth Century and Earlier”. He clicked on the twentieth century folder and over two hundred files listed on the screen in front of him. He quickly read through the names and a number of them jumped out at him: Rasputin, Mengela, Bundy.

Okay. This was stupid. These names were well known. Their guys were not. He was about to shut down the computer when he saw some names that were dated for the latter half of the twentieth century.

He rubbed his eyes. I check these dozen and call it a night.

He clicked on one of the Word files and a bio of a general in the Egyptian army appeared. The .jpeg file with the same name showed a tall man with dark hair, a scar across his cheek, and a look of complete menace in his eyes.

Definitely not a nice-looking man, but also not the man I’m looking for.

He clicked through about eight more files and thought he should just forget it. This was ridiculous. He clicked on the ninth photo and his hand stilled. The man staring back at him had high cheekbones, crystal blue eyes, and soft brown hair. His eyes flew to the photo Laney had sent him. The man in Dom’s picture was a little younger, but undeniably the same man.

He quickly clicked the Word file and read the bio. He scanned past the early history to his more recent involvements. Suspected of being involved with Chechen rebels fifteen years ago, the Syrian government about eight years ago, and now he was believed to work for Senator Kensington.

Now they had a link between the attackers – Russian nationals – and their unknown man.

He scrolled farther down the file. Dom had tracked down some reports on people who’d worked with the man. The reports all differed except for one common trend: the man was a ruthless killer who seemed to have almost supernatural fighting skills. He went by the name Gideon but Dom had made a note about what he believed to be his real identity.

“Azazyel.”





CHAPTER 53



Havre, MT



Jake and Yoni crawled up to the eight-foot chain link fence that surrounded the all of Kensington’s property. They lay still, waiting for the patrol truck to pass. It took all Jake had not to storm the grounds. The idea that Tom was only a short distance away and in trouble was killing him.

He and Yoni had made a loop around the exterior of the fence to check for patrols and any gaps in the fence. There weren’t any.

Tom was in there somewhere. Jake felt it. He wanted to sprint in and grab him, taking out anyone who got in his way. But he knew that would only sign both of their death warrants. So slow and cautious was the approach.

There didn’t appear to be any motion sensors or electronic surveillance. They seemed to be relying solely on human security in the form of one truck, which was responsible for patrolling the entire perimeter, and a guarded entrance on the northern side of the property.

The low-level security was good news for them. It was much easier to slip pass human security than electronic security.

Watching the truck approach, Jake took a breath, trying to calm the rage building within him.

The truck’s headlights rolled over them as their Ghillie suits blended seamlessly into the landscape. It didn’t stop.

Jake gestured to his watch. “Ten minutes.”

Yoni nodded and moved to the fence with a pair of wire clippers already in hand. He made the first cut and waited. No alarms went off and no guards came running. He made quick work of cutting a hole in the fence big enough for them to crawl through. Once they were through, they repositioned it so that it appeared still intact. Heading north, they kept low to the ground.

It was silent, with only a slight wind. Jake strained to hear the sound of anything. If there were men here, shouldn't they be able to hear something?

Doubts flooded his mind and fear crept through him. If they were wrong, then he had absolutely no idea where Tom might be.

They were only five hundred yards in when his watched beeped. He signaled to Yoni to stop. They flattened themselves to the ground. Seconds later, the lights of the patrol returned. It drove slowly past them.

“Hurry up,” he urged, watching the truck. This was taking too long. They needed to move faster.

When the patrol was out of view, Jake jumped to his feet, ready to start back on their path. Yoni grabbed him by the arm and shook his head. He signaled for him to listen.

Straining, Jake could just make out the sound of a plane. As the noise grew louder, he was surprised to hear that it sounded like a military cargo plane, flying low.

Looking up, he saw the lights of the plane and noticed that the landing gear was down. As it passed over them, he exchanged a look with Yoni. Without speaking, they both changed direction, following the path of the plane.