Page 15 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

"We got all the equipment Turner requested," Nadim continued. "Weapons, communications gear, surveillance equipment, C4, remote detonators, and timers."

Kyra looked impressed. "I bet it wasn't easy to get everything on that list."

"We have our sources." Nadim smiled, looking smug.

As they drove deeper into the city, the character of the neighborhoods shifted, the buildings becoming less imposing, the streets narrowing. They were entering a lower-middle-class residential area, where multi-story apartment buildings lined the streets, and small shops and food vendors operated from ground-level floors.

Nadim navigated the van through a series of turns, occasionally checking the rearview mirror to ensure the other two vehicles were still following. Finally, he pulled into a covered parking area behind a three-story apartment building that was indistinguishable from its neighbors.

"We have arrived," he announced, killing the engine. "The entire building is secure. I'll show you in through the back entrance."

They waited for the other two vans to park, andthen their group followed Nadim inside through a service door and up a narrow staircase to the second floor.

The apartment was modest, but spacious and well appointed, with multiple bedrooms, a large living area, and a kitchen that had seen better days but was clean and serviceable. The furnishings were worn out but looked comfortable, and everything smelled of cleaning solution and air freshener.

"Let's sweep the place," Yamanu said. "I want to be certain it's clean."

"I assure you that it is," Nadim said. "But I understand if you want to double-check."

Yamanu pulled out the portable scanner William had designed just for such a purpose and did a walkabout, checking every room and closet. "All clear," he announced once he was satisfied that there were no bugs. "Go ahead and get rid of those outfits."

"Thank God," Kyra said as she ducked into one of the bedrooms.

"Do you need help?" Max called after her.

"Thank you, but I'll manage."

Nadim walked into the kitchen and pulled out the refrigerator, which slid out of its place with surprising ease. "This is where we hide the arsenal." He tapped the wall behind the refrigerator, and a panel popped free, revealing a large niche behind it.

"As requested," Nadim said, stepping aside so Yamanu and Max could inspect the contents.

The weapons cache included several handgunswith silencers, assault rifles broken down into easily concealed components, ammunition, and various tactical gear. On the bottom shelf, securely packed in cushioned cases, were the explosives—enough C4 to create several diversions or, if necessary, bring down a medium-sized building.

"Good job." Yamanu clapped the guy on his back. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Nadim smiled. "I'm handsomely paid for my services, but I'm glad to help regardless of pay."

"What about the neighbors?" Max pointed at the side wall. "What if they hear something?"

"The entire building is yours, and sound doesn't carry to the neighboring houses unless you are very loud."

"Excellent," Yamanu said. "Do you have any other intelligence for us?"

Nadim closed the panel and pushed the refrigerator back with ease as if it was gliding on wheels, which it probably was.

He moved to the kitchen table where a worn leather satchel sat. From it, he withdrew a collection of maps, photographs, and documents. "Detailed layouts of the neighborhoods where each sister lives. Building floor plans where available. And surveillance photos of the sisters themselves, taken over the past week."

Max lifted his head as Kyra entered the kitchensans the fat suit and traditional clothing. "You will want to be here for this."

She nodded, her eyes scanning the photographs.

They showed four women of varying ages, all bearing a striking resemblance to Kyra and Jasmine—the same high cheekbones, the same graceful necks, the same amber-brown eyes. They were dressed in traditional attire, their heads covered with headscarves, but their faces were visible—a sign that they weren't as strictly religious as the ultraconservative elements who insisted women cover every inch of their skin.

Kyra lifted her hand to her pendant, her eyes wide as she gazed upon the faces of siblings she didn't remember.

"Soraya," she whispered, touching one photograph. "Rana. Yasmin. Parisa." She turned to Nadim. "Did I guess correctly?"

The guy nodded. "Indeed."

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