Riders of the Pale Horse by T. Davis Bunn

Thames, docking just opposite Westminster, and igniting a small warhead. Think of what such a bomb and the resulting fallout would do to Manhattan, or Washington, or San Francisco. Terrorists would be able to threaten any of our coastal cities withannihilation. For some time we have had unconfirmed evidence.” Cyril then permitted himself a small smile. “As you are new to the game, my dear, I shall interpret that for you.”
    â€œSome game,” Allison said softly.
    â€œYes, well, better than other names I might use. In any case, what we call unconfirmed evidence normally resides somewhere between bizarre gossip and a bald-faced lie. But this time we have been able to substantiate at least some of the rumors. There is now evidence that a second route has opened. Perhaps not for fissionable materials, but rather for engineers. You see, just as worrisome to us as the transport of material is the transport of people.”
    â€œKnow-how,” she interpreted. “Transfer of brain power.”
    â€œQuite so. In 1994 the West received its first confirmed reports that Iran and Iraq were granting jobs to Soviet nuclear scientists.” Cyril studied the depths of his glass. “It is all so unprecedented, you see. The Soviet Union’s dismantling itself in the space of just a few years. The largest spy network on earth becoming such a laughingstock they couldn’t manage to find their own toes with their shoes off. Terrorists the world over presented with offers to buy fissionable material and hire nuclear scientists as though ordering from Harrods.”
    â€œI still don’t see where I—”
    â€œPermit me to come to that in a moment.” With one finger Cyril began tracing a map on the tablecloth. “On the opposite side of the Caspian Sea from Turkmenistan lies an extremely volatile region shared by the Ukraine, Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia. It appears that the Chechen-Ingush region of southern Russia is now being used as a jumping-off place for this modern-day traffic in people. The product is taken overland through the high passes of the Caucasus Mountains and down into Tbilisi, which is the capital of Georgia.”
    â€œProduct,” she repeated. “It sounds inhuman.”
    â€œNot so inhuman, I would imagine, as calling them the creators of atom bombs. Or the perpetrators of mass destruction.”
    â€œWhere are they headed?”
    â€œAgain we have only rumors to go on,” Cyril replied. “But an increasing amount of evidence suggests that an international smuggling ring, dealing in both fissionable material and nuclear engineers, is operating in Jordan. Jordan is an ally of Iraq, yet at the same time it remains a friend to the West. Quite a feat of political juggling, as you can imagine. Iraq is prohibited by UN sanctions from using its aircraft or from letting foreign flights in or out of the country. Yet Jordan, which borders Iraq, remains open to the outside world. Once the product is there, then further overland transport would be quite feasible.”
    Cyril watched Allison carefully and added, “This group is purported to be located in Aqaba, to be precise.”
    Allison straightened as yet another flood of memories surfaced. “Aqaba! Isn’t that where—”
    â€œExactly,” Cyril interjected. “Ben Shannon has kindly agreed to allow us to place someone within his compound. Unfortunately, we made the error of initially assigning him an agent from our embassy in Amman. Let us simply say that they did not get along. He has now taken the liberty of telling us whom he will work with.” The stare intensified. “He is willing to work with us only if you will go in as our agent in the field.”

3
    Loading the trucks proved to be a dangerous affair, especially after Rogue ignored the guards’ warning.
    They had taken their purchases back to the mission compound later that morning, with Robards driving