“When?” she pushed back, unwilling to let the opportunity pass to corner him.
“Once we’ve settled what you came here for,” he said, preempting a protest with a finger against her lips. “When we take the next step, it won’t be amidst a warring country being overrun by terrorists. I’m very demanding. I’ll want all your attention and will not abide with it being split between giving me what I desire and your mind filled with fighting for survival while we’re here.”
“Very well,” she replied as she got off his lap. In usual Jordan fashion, she immediately went into action. “Did you happen to remember to recover my laptops from the platoon leader when you fetched my luggage?” she asked Paxton.
“Over there,” she said, pointing to the computer bags in the corner containing her precious technological hardware.
“Cruz, I hope you’ve come armed to the teeth,” Jordan said as she started setting up.
“Like you, I never go anywhere without my arsenal, little kitty.” He held up his hands as she glared at him. “Sorry. You’re anything but little but come on— you’re all red kitties and— hey, watch where you’re throwin’ those sneakers.” He laughed as he evaded Knox aiming a kick to his knee. He shook his head as he caught her foot. He ignored her hobbling on the other to keep her balance as he examined the offending footwear. “We went hiking and you chose to wear… what do you call these things?”
“They’re wedge sneakers and very comfortable even for a hike.” She yanked her foot loose. ““Suffice it to say, Cruz Parker, my footwear has fuckall to do with you.”
“That cursing jar of yours is almost filled to the brim. Keep it up, snip. I can’t wait for it to get there.” Her sharp retort chased after him as he ran up the stairs to retrieve his laptop.
“Asshole,” Knox grumbled as she sat down next to Jordan. “What’re we looking for?”
Jordan’s fingers raced over the keyboard as she scrolled through satellite images of the remote area where she’d been held captive.
“I want that bastard, Knox. I found him once. I’ll be damned if he eludes me, especially after what he put me through.”
Knox looked at her sharply. “Did he… fuck, Jordan! Don’t tell me he—”
“No, he didn’t rape me,” she replied, setting Knox’s mind at ease. “But if Brock hadn’t arrived when he did…” A shudder tore through her at the thought of what could’ve happened. “That doesn’t make my being starved and tortured any less severe.”
“Well, that’s a relief but know this, if he had, I would personally castrate him when we find him.”
“You’ll have to get in line,” Jordan laughed as she continued her search. “I did find some very interesting intel while I was looking for him. It appears that he’s in cahoots with ISIS. Something’s definitely up.”
“Can you elaborate?” Jared asked as he sat down beside Paxton who was watching the screen images with Jordan and Knox.
“It’s on a need-to-know basis only and…” her voice drifted off as she looked up and noticed the dark warning flash in Brock’s eyes also reflected in the faces of Jared and Tanner as they settled around the dining room table. “I guess you all need to know,” she ended lamely.
“Indeed we do, Jordan. We didn’t only come to save you. We came here knowing you won’t leave until you achieved what you signed up for,” Kezlin interjected behind her. “Better fill us in or we’ll be like a blind man in a dark room looking for a black cat.
“Eloquent as ever,” Tanner muttered. The two of them had always been at loggerheads.
“No one asked your opinion,” Kezlin snapped. “There! Who is that?” She pointed at the screen.
“What do you need from me, Jordan?” Cruz asked as he sat down with his laptop powered up.
“Pack up. We’re leaving,” Jordan said with a curse as she zoomed in on the figure leaving the compound where she had been kept prisoner.
“You just said you’re not going to let him slip through your fingers. Now you want to leave?” Knox stared at her in confusion.
“That’s Abu Mohammed al-Hashisi al-Lurayshi, caliph of ISIS since October 2019 after Asad Bakir al-Baghdadi was killed,” Jordan explained as she typed in a command and scanned the images that flashed on the screen.
“What does he have to do with Fadhil?” Brock said dolefully.
“We know that ISIS and their followers reject peace as a matter of principle; they hunger for jihad. Their religious views make it constitutionally incapable of certain types of change, even if that change might ensure their survival. They consider the movement as a harbinger of the imminent end of the world.” She turned the laptop so everyone could see the enlarged photo of Abu shaking hands with Fadhil in front of a regiment of soldiers. “That’s how I found Fadhil. I didn’t think much of it at the time since it was during an honorary gathering of the death of Osama Bin Laden, where every Islamist fascist associate was present. Abu leaving Fadhil’s compound without his usual armed bodyguards on the other hand… that points to an entirely different scenario.” Her fingers rattled on the table. “Fadhil isn’t at that compound anymore.”
“Hold on, Jordan,” Jared said as he stared at the images. “Even when the United States began its counter-insurgency war, and at the peak of ISIS' territorial holdings, the group never demonstrated a clear capability to strike the United States homeland. They were never openly operational in the States and since their final stronghold had been liberated in March last year, the U.S. briefly suspended anti-ISIS operations in the region after the Soleimani strike. We heard rumors of a resurgence, but— ah, I see. That's why you’re here— there’s a connection between Fadhil’s terrorist group and ISIS. I suppose the tension between the U.S. and Iran is beneficial to ISIS and the significant threat they pose in the Middle East?”
“Correct. Except it’s more than that. They might not have had an interest to infiltrate the U.S. in the past but our intel says differently. ISIS now poses a direct threat to America, which is the only reason why I agreed to help. I found a suppressed interview with Maaz Bishara, the Prime Minister of Iraqi Kurdistan wherein he stated that ISIS not only exists but is even more capable to fight now than years ago.” She opened the article and read out loud: ““ISIS is still very much intact. Yes, they have lost much of their leadership. They have lost many of their capable men. But they’ve also managed to gain more experience and to recruit more people around them. So they should not be taken lightly.”” One hand fluttered in the air. “What’s important is that he mentioned two very alarming figures, one of twenty-thousand, which refers to the current number of ISIS fighters, and the second is sixty, meaning monthly ISIS attacks.” She looked around the table. “And that’s in Iraq alone.”
“So ISIS and the terrorists have formed a coalition to launch an attack on the U.S.?” Paxton asked.
“Try the world.” Jordan closed her laptop. “Don’t forget their main commitment is and has always been to return civilization to a seventh-century caliphate, and ultimately bring about the apocalypse.”