I stepped down off the rock and asked him, “So what do you think, Paul?”
He seemed at a loss for words, but then reminded me, “Yasir told us to take any vehicle.”
“Right. Pick a card. Any card.” At the risk of stating the obvious, I said, “They’re all marked.”
He nodded.
I said to him, “We can wipe the red target off, or since all the Bedouin vehicles are communal, we can swap cars with these gentlemen, and we can proceed to the Marib airstrip, and hopefully not get vaporized on the way. But I don’t think there’s anything or anyone waiting for us at the airstrip. So I suggest we go back to the Crow Fortress and deal with this.” I checked my watch. “We should be there about the time The Panther is in Chet’s sights.”
Brenner, who has seen lots of death, has probably not seen lots of treachery and double crosses, and he still looked a little out of it. Hello, Paul?
Kate and Zamo were out of the Land Cruiser, and Kate glanced at Brenner, then asked me, “What’s happening?”
I said to Brenner, “You tell her.” She never believes me.
The Bedouin were watching us, curious about what the crazy Amriki were talking about, so we didn’t want to go look at the roof again and put ideas into their heads. But Brenner said to Kate and Zamo, “There is a red marking-looks like blood-on the roof of the Land Cruiser.”
Zamo, who’d painted lots of people red with a red laser beam before he sent them to Paradise, got it in a heartbeat, and said, “Holy shit.”
Well said.
Kate is quick, but stubborn, and she reminded us, “But Yasir said-”
“They’re all marked,” I informed her. “They weren’t marked when we were up in the diwan or I’d have seen that, because I was looking for it. But when we went down to burn our civilian passports on the ground level, the Bedouin, at the prior request of Chet, marked all the roofs with goat blood, probably thinking that they were putting some kind of holy protection mark on the SUVs. You know, like the Passover thing with the lamb’s blood.” I added helpfully, “Exodus.”
Well, maybe that was a stretch, but close enough. Or Yasir and his buddies had no idea why Chet gave them a few rials to do something weird. But they did know to keep their mouths shut about it. I further informed my teammates, “Chet also asked Yasir to give us the shiwals, which will be mentioned in the incident report.”
Kate looked at me, and I thought maybe she’d say, “Sorry I doubted you,” but she didn’t. She asked me, and all of us, “What do we do now?”
I explained to Kate and Zamo that a road trip to Marib airstrip might not be productive, and I suggested, “We can let this kind gentleman here take the vehicle marked for death, and absolutely confirm that Chet was planning to whack us.” I asked, “Anyone need to see that?”
No one apparently did.
I suggested, “Let’s go back to the Crow Fortress and talk to Chet and Buck.”
Brenner agreed, but said, “They will deny everything.”
Kate agreed, and so did Zamo.
Indeed, Chet and Buck would deny everything, and we had no proof that I wasn’t totally crazy. And if we disobeyed orders and went back to the Crow Fortress and I accused Chet and Buck of plotting to kill us, that could get very weird, and I’d be the one answering charges back in the States. Not to mention that the Company would definitely see to it that Kate and I met with a fatal accident. So we couldn’t go back to the Crow Fortress without proof, we didn’t want to drive to Marib, and we couldn’t stay here.
Zamo said, “Let the guy drive.”
No one responded to that.
The guy in question, whose name was Emad, said something to Brenner, who didn’t reply.
Okay, someone has to make life-or-death decisions, and like Brenner, I too get paid for that. And yet…
Finally, I said, “Let Emad drive to Marib airstrip.”
Neither Kate nor Brenner seconded that, but neither did they object. Zamo, however, said, “Otherwise, you’ll never know for sure.”
Brenner hesitated, then said something to Emad, who smiled and got into our Land Cruiser. Emad didn’t ask for his money up front, but Brenner pressed a handful of rials on him and said something to him in Arabic.
In truth, we were becoming more callous and more like the bad guys, but at least we had a conscience.
Emad waved and took off down the slope.
Well, part of me hoped I was wrong, but the blood on the roof said I was right. In fact, everything said I was right.
One of the Bedouin said something to Brenner, and Brenner said to me, “He wants to know if we need a ride back to the Crow Fortress.”
I looked at my watch and said, “Ask him if we can borrow his vehicle.”
Brenner asked, and it was no problem, and I tipped them with the last of my rials.
I drove this time, and Zamo rode shotgun. Kate and Brenner sat silently in the rear.
After a few minutes we could see the Crow Fortress ahead, and I spotted a pile of rocks on the left. I pulled over and said, “We can watch from here.”
We got out of the Land Cruiser and climbed onto the rocks, which gave us a clear view of the flatlands below.
Zamo put his sniper rifle to his shoulder, adjusted his scope to full power, and said, “I got him.”
Brenner, Kate, and I did the same with the weaker-powered scopes on our M4s.
I could see the white Land Cruiser driven by Emad kicking up dust about a mile away, heading north toward the Marib road.
There wasn’t much vehicle traffic on the dirt roads that cut through the dry fields, and it was easy to follow the lone dust trail even as the Land Cruiser grew smaller.
The more time that went by without the SUV erupting into a ball of flames, the more I began to think that maybe I was missing my flight out of here.
No one spoke, but I could imagine what Kate and Brenner were thinking: Poor John has gone gaga. Zamo, however, was looking through his scope like he was tracking a Taliban general. He was as still as a statue and his breathing was so controlled that I thought he’d gone into a trance.
I was half hoping that I hadn’t sent an innocent man to his death, but as the seconds ticked by, I also hoped that a Predator pilot had the Land Cruiser in its crosshairs and was waiting for Chet to say, “Engage the target.”
After three or four minutes I lost sight of the SUV in my scope, and so did Kate and Brenner, and they put their rifles down. But Zamo still had him and kept looking through his scope.
I said, “Maybe this will happen later.”
No one replied.
Zamo said, “Lost him,” and put his rifle down.
Brenner asked me, “What do you want to do now?”
I replied, “Sit here and wait for the streak of white smoke.”
Again, no one replied, but Zamo was staring out at the distant horizon without his scope, so we did the same.
Kate said to everyone, “Let’s ask one of the Bedouin back there to drive us to the Marib airstrip.”
Brenner suggested, “Or let’s walk back to the Crow Fortress and say our car broke down and we need another one.”
Did I detect a note of sarcasm in his voice?
I said, “We can see the smoke trail for over twenty miles from up here.”
Brenner informed me, “I’m not waiting half an hour for that.” He said to Kate, “Please talk to your husband. We need to make a decision.”
“John.”
“Quiet.”
So we sat on the rocks and stared out at the blue sky. The crazy guy was in charge. Or he needed to be humored until he came to his senses-or until they could get the drop on me.
So we continued to wait, but only Zamo and I were giving the sky our undivided attention. Kate and Brenner were exchanging glances.
Please, God, let me be right about the CIA wanting to kill me and my wife. That’s not too much to ask.
Less than two minutes after we’d lost sight of the dust cloud, a white trail of th
in white smoke cut across the blue sky. An instant later, there was a flash of orange light on the horizon, but no sound.
Zamo said, “Target killed.” He added, “Holy shit.”
Brenner stood, but said nothing.
Kate, too, stood, and stared as a column of black smoke began rising above the horizon. She said, “Oh my God…” I didn’t know if she was addressing me, but she looked at me and said, “I can’t believe this…”
Birds in the fields below suddenly took flight, then a muffled sound like distant thunder reached us and died away, leaving a stillness in the air.
Brenner was still staring at the rising smoke, and he said, “Those bastards.”
Zamo said, “I guess John was right.”
I guess so.
Kate said softly, “That poor man… he’s dead.”
No one responded to that.
Brenner said, “Okay, let’s go back and talk to Buck and Chet.”
I said, “They’ll think they’re seeing ghosts.”
We got into the Land Cruiser and headed back to the Crow Fortress.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
I drove fast, but not so fast as to attract the attention of the Predator pilot whose job it was to watch the immediate vicinity of the Crow Fortress. But even if he saw us as we approached the fortress, all he’d see was the Bedouin Land Cruiser from the rock pile, so no reason to call Chet.
As for Chet and Buck, both their monitors would now be tuned in to the two Predators flying above the goat herder’s hut. One of their screens would have been split to direct another Predator to follow the suspected target in the Land Cruiser-us-and Chet had just given the order to destroy the target. I wonder if Chet had a lump in his throat when he saw his teammates getting blown up.
We were now a few hundred meters from the Crow Fortress, and as I’d noticed since we’d been here, the Bedouin rarely posted a lookout on the walls of the courtyard-guard duty was the job of the Amriki in the tower-and I didn’t see anyone as I looked at the wall in front of us.
When I got within fifty meters of the fortress, I retraced my route to come around to the gate on the east side.
Brenner asked, “Do we have a plan?”
I replied, “There is no plan possible for this situation. Sometimes you just have to shoot from the hip.” Literally.
Zamo suggested, “They need to die for what they did.”
Good plan.
Brenner reminded Zamo and all of us, “I give the order to fire-but you can fire if fired upon.”
Or if I feel like emptying a full magazine into those two bastards. But first we had to make sure that Chet had completed his mission and killed The Panther.
I pulled up near the gate, which was closed, and I turned the vehicle around, pointing it toward the edge of the plateau that we’d driven up on the night we landed in this shithole. I kept the engine running, and we all got out quickly, leaving the doors open.
Kate pulled off her balto for better mobility and access to her spare magazines, and Brenner said, “Rock and roll,” meaning move your selector switches to full automatic.
I insisted on going in first and alone, and I lifted the latch handle, swung the gate in, and slipped into the courtyard.
The Bedouin were still where we’d left them, sitting along the shade of the west wall, chatting and chewing. I noticed also that all the vehicles were still there, so Chet and Buck had not yet left here to drive to the scene of the attack, meaning it hadn’t happened yet. I checked my watch: 6:15 P.M., so apparently The Panther was late-or he wasn’t showing up at all.
The Bedouin noticed me, but none of them looked surprised, though a few of them seemed to be discussing my return.
The doors of the van with the Predator monitors were closed, and the engine wasn’t running, but I could hear the hum of the gasoline-powered generator.
I motioned to Kate, Brenner, and Zamo to come in, and I said, “Act normal,” which meant walking casually across the courtyard to the van. The Bedouin were looking at us, and maybe they were unhappy that Kate was dressed like a man.
We stopped at the closed doors of Moses’ Red Sea fish van and I saw that the padlock was not there, meaning someone was inside, which I expected. Hopefully it was both of them.
Well, I didn’t want to interrupt Chet while he was in his stealthy assassination mode, but we couldn’t stand here smiling at the Bedouin.
Brenner nodded toward the door and whispered, “Let’s go.”
Right. Chet and Buck would be unhappily surprised to see us, but they had a job to do and they’d do it, and then we could discuss other matters.
I leveled my M4 as Brenner and Zamo swung both doors open, and I jumped into the van.
Unfortunately, no one was there.
Brenner and Kate came into the van, and Zamo stayed outside to keep an eye on the Bedouin.
Kate asked, “Where are they?”
Definitely not here. But the consoles were fully lit and the monitors were both on, as though they’d just stepped out for a minute.
We moved to the front of the van and looked at the screens. The left-hand screen-Chet’s screen-showed the close view of the goat herder’s hut, and the right screen had a split view, a higher and wider shot of the area around the hut, and another high shot showing a white SUV traveling on a dirt road.
As we watched, an electronic crosshair came onto the split screen over the SUV, and a few seconds later the white SUV was gone, replaced by a bright orange flash, followed by swirling black smoke and debris. A message came on the screen that said, “Target engaged.”
Then I saw another, smaller message in the left-hand corner of the screen that said, “Replay.” Then the original image appeared again and our SUV with the blood mark on the roof and Emad driving was vaporized again by the Hellfire missile. Ouch.
Brenner said, “Those bastards.”
Kate said, “Look.”
We focused on Chet’s screen, which was also on replay, and watched silently as Sheik Musa, surrounded by about half of his fifteen men, walked from left to right toward another group of men who were moving from right to left.
Both groups stopped in the middle of the carpet, and after a hesitation, Sheik Musa took the hand of The Panther and kissed it. The Panther then did the same to Sheik Musa.
I don’t know if they embraced or not, because the crosshair on the screen brightened, then an electronic message flashed “Fire,” and the screen brightened again in an orange glow, followed by black swirling debris, then smoke and fire. The words “Target engaged” flashed on the screen.
Everyone, I was sure, including Sheik Musa and all the men around him, were dead or mortally wounded. Same for Mr. Bulus ibn al-Darwish-The Panther was dead.
I said, “Mission accomplished.”
Brenner said, “Chet killed the sheik, too.”
Kate pointed to the electronic clock counter and said, “At six-ten… seven minutes ago.”
Right. And these images had been broadcast to people in Washington-to the mission planners in Langley, and maybe even to the White House. And everyone was celebrating. The Panther was dead. Congratulations, Chet and Buck. And then Chet and Buck left the van. But where did they go? Maybe to gather some things in the diwan, then they’d jump in an SUV and get out of here.
I looked at Buck’s screen and I saw the replay again, but from a higher and wider perspective, which showed all the vehicles that had arrived-Bedouin and Al Qaeda-parked away from the hut. Two more Hellfires hit almost simultaneously, blowing up the two groups of men and vehicles. The secondary explosions of the fuel tanks sent fiery wreckage and burning gasoline into the air. A third Hellfire hit the roof of the goat herder’s hut, just in case anyone was inside, and the stone walls of the hut collapsed.
Kate asked again, “Where are Chet and Buck?”
I didn’t know, but I knew that they got out of here quickly, in case there were any Bedouin survivors at the scene of the attack who would call the Bedouin here sayi
ng that the Americans had killed their sheik. But where did our teammates go? I pointed out, “All the vehicles are here.”
Kate concluded, “So they have to be in the tower.”
“Maybe… but we need to get out of here in case the Bedouin here get those calls…” And then I remembered how Chet was going to get rid of this million-dollar van and I said, “The Predator over the Crow Fortress is about to vaporize this van.”
We quickly exited the target, but we didn’t want to spook the Bedouin so we didn’t run. Brenner turned toward the gate, but I grabbed his arm and said, “We need to see if Chet and Buck are in the tower.”
He hesitated for half a second, then nodded, and we began walking quickly toward the tower. Indeed, hate and revenge cloud your judgment. We should have been in the Land Cruiser now, tear-assing down the ravine to get away from here. But first we needed to settle up with our two teammates.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
As we got within thirty feet of the door of the tower, I noticed that two of the Bedouin were on their cell phones, and I knew what those calls were about; some of the Bedouin had indeed survived the Hellfire attack and were now telling their buddies in the Crow Fortress that the Amriki missiles had fried their sheik and everyone around him.
A few of the Bedouin started looking at us, then they all began standing. There was absolutely no reason now to act normal, so we began running toward the tower.
We let Kate in first through the narrow doorway, followed by Zamo, then Brenner. I took a quick look over my shoulder and saw the Bedouin running toward us, and a few of them were shouting and pointing their AK-47s at me.
Just as I slipped into the doorway, a deafening explosion filled the air, followed by the secondary explosion of the fish van’s fuel tank, and the shockwave knocked me down. I could feel the earth shake under me as I got to my feet, and without anyone saying anything, we all ran for the staircase.
I don’t remember hitting any of the stone steps, but within a few seconds we passed through the windowless storage level and we were all in the diwan, weapons at the ready.
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