Afraid of the Dark

Chapter Seventy-eight

Behind the gray blanket of winter clouds, the sun was starting to rise over London. The Dark removed his nighttime sunglasses and put on a darker pair. Then he reached for his cell phone. It was the middle of the night in Washington, but he dialed the number anyway, knowing that Littleton would be awake and take his call.

“This is your final update,” said the Dark.

“Tell me,” said Littleton.

He was standing across the street from the exit to the Aldgate East Tube Station. Morning rush hour was at full throttle, and he had to move around to keep from being jostled by commuters.

“For what it’s worth, I spoke with Shada. She admitted that she copied files from my computer. But she swears she didn’t give them to anyone.”

“Do you believe her?”

“In two hours, I’m out of the country with just enough money to make sure no one ever finds me. Which means there’s only one question that matters: Do you believe her?”

“Damn it, Habib! Don’t play games with me! More than just my company is on the line here. The shit that went on at that black site is nothing short of blasphemy to some Muslims. I’ll be al-Qaeda’s poster child for ‘Death to Infidels.’ Do you hear what I’m saying? Some extremist group out there will be pissed off enough to make its own video and cut my head off-literally! So tell me straight: Do you believe her, or don’t you?”

The Dark kept an eye on the tube station exit. Just then, he spotted Shada in the crowd. She was carrying the backpack like a baby in her arms. A smile creased his lips.

“I wish you luck, Mr. Littleton.”

The Dark put the phone away and started across the street.