Chet also reminded us, “Stick your head in here before you leave.”
I promised him, “We wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye, Chet.”
He smiled.
I said to Buck, “See you later.”
He nodded, sort of smiled, and said to us, “See you later.”
The now-unemployed members of the A-team left the fish van, mission completed.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
We returned to the tower, and Brenner called Zamo down from the mafraj and told him what was happening.
Brenner said, “It’s your decision if you want to stay here and cover Buck and Chet or come with us to Marib.”
Zamo didn’t agonize much over his decision and replied, “I work for you.” He also reminded Brenner, “I don’t get paid to make decisions.”
Brenner did get paid to make decisions, and he said to Zamo, “You’ll come with us.”
I suggested, “Let’s get moving.”
We gathered up what we needed, which all fit into our overnight bags, and we left everything else for the Bedouin, including my socks and underwear.
Kate slipped her balto over her clothes, and we went down to the livestock and excrement level and built a small bonfire of passports and crumpled magazine pages, which Zamo lit with a match from his field survival kit. We made sure everything burned, then we went out into the fading sunlight of the courtyard.
The Bedouin were still sitting and squatting along the wall, probably thinking about their approaching sundown prayers, and a new recipe for goat.
Kate covered her face with her hijab, and Brenner, in his limited Arabic, seemed to be thanking our hosts for their hospitality. The Bedouin remained sitting as they all said, “As-salaam alaikum.”
Brenner responded with, “Wa alaikum as-salaam.”
And arrivederci.
Brenner said something to Yasir, who stood and waved his arm toward the parked SUVs, and Brenner told us, “He says take any one we want.”
“Which one has the bag of khat?”
Brenner didn’t ask, but Yasir did give us three shiwals, one off his own head and two from his buddies, and Brenner said to us, “This is a gift to remember them by.”
And they have my underwear to remember me.
Brenner told them that everything we’d left behind, which was mostly luggage, clothing, and one can of mixed vegetables, was theirs to keep. And, no, they couldn’t have Zamo’s sniper rifle.
I said to Yasir, “See you in New York. Ben’s Deli.” I also said, “Shuqran,” which means “thanks.”
We threw our overnight bags into the rear of one of the Land Cruisers, and carrying our weapons, we all walked to the fish van.
Chet and Buck were still watching the screens, and Chet was on the radio speaking to someone. As we entered, he said into the mic, “I’ll call you back. Out.”
He and Buck stood, and Chet said, “So, you’re taking Zamo.”
Brenner replied, without explanation, “We are.”
It was Buck who said, “The Bedouin in the courtyard are all the security we need, and some of them will accompany us to the scene.”
So we said our good-byes without getting too teary-eyed, and we all agreed that the A-team had performed admirably.
Chet said to us, “Thank you for your very professional performance.” He admitted, “It hasn’t always been easy to work together, but we’ve put our differences aside in the service of our country.” He looked at me and said, smiling, “You have been a challenge, Mr. Corey, but I’d rather work with a man like you than someone who never questions authority.”
“Thank you.” I think. Why do I always get singled out? This started in grade school.
Anyway, Buck added, “You can all be proud of your work here. Thank you for volunteering and for putting your lives at risk.” He reminded us, “The homeland will be a little safer after Bulus ibn al-Darwish is dead.”
I reminded Buck, “We have a rendezvous under the clock at Grand Central Station.”
“I’ll be there,” Buck promised. “We’ll stay in touch.”
Chet said, “I’ll try to be there, too.”
You weren’t invited, Chet. But, hey, anyone who’s alive at the end of today is invited.
Buck, and even Chet, hugged Kate, we all shook hands, and we wished each other good luck and Godspeed.
Buck said, “As-salaam alaikum.”
To relive our first meeting a million years ago, I smiled and said, “That’s easy for you to say.”
He smiled.
We left the van and piled into the Land Cruiser. Brenner was behind the wheel, Zamo was riding shotgun, and Kate and I were in the rear. The gentlemen had their shiwals with them, but no one saw any need to wear them at this time.
Yasir got off his butt and ran across the courtyard to open the gate as we approached it. We all waved to Yasir, who seemed delighted to see us go. But not as delighted as we were.
Brenner drove around the courtyard walls of the Crow Fortress, our home away from home, and we headed across the rocky plateau, toward the rock pile where the Bedouin guarded the northern approach to the fortress.
Brenner was following the dusty tracks of the other vehicles that had been to the Crow Fortress, and I asked him, “Do you know where you’re going?”
He hesitated, then replied, “Down the north slope… to pick up the Marib road.” He assured us, “I’ve been to the airstrip and I can find it.”
“Good.” We continued on toward the north edge of the plateau.
Kate said, “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Brenner assured her, “It is, and within an hour we’ll be on board a Company aircraft lifting off and heading for Saudi Arabia.” He added, “Probably Najran airfield.”
Kate asked, “Does anyone feel… sorry or disappointed that we didn’t stay until the end?”
Brenner and I, who are really in touch with our feelings, agreed that we would have liked to be there for the grand finale. Zamo, probably not into his feelings, said, “Tactically, this makes sense.” He added, “But it sucks.”
We continued on, and up ahead I could see the big rock formations and the SUV at the edge of the plateau where Musa’s men sat in the shadows of the rocks.
I said to Brenner, “Slow down.”
He reduced his speed and asked me, “What’s up?”
I replied, “Here’s what’s up, Paul. Not too long ago, Kate killed a CIA officer-in self-defense.” I asked him, “Did you know that?”
He hesitated, then replied, “I heard.”
“Good.” And you still have the hots for her? Brave man. I sleep with one eye open. Just kidding. I continued, “I think the Company is looking for some rough justice on that.”
Kate said, “John, we are not supposed to discuss this-”
“This is really important, Kate. Do not interrupt.” I continued, “As if Kate killing this guy wasn’t bad enough, we had also inadvertently messed up a CIA plan to turn most of the Mideast into a nuclear wasteland.”
It was quiet in the Land Cruiser, and I continued, “So, Kate and I know this big secret, and we’re sworn to silence forever-in exchange for the Company giving Kate a pass on the firearm incident. But the CIA doesn’t really work that way.”
Brenner, happily, agreed with me and said, “No, they don’t.”
“Right. They might let the gun incident go, but they are not comfortable with two witnesses walking around with that knowledge about the nuclear Armageddon that they’d planned for Sandland.”
Brenner was driving even slower now, and he seemed to be thinking. Finally, he realized I’d said my piece, and asked, “So what… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Kate and I, and anyone who happens to be with us, are not getting out of Yemen alive.”
No one had a response to that, and I explained, “That’s why Kate and I are here-this is the perfect killing zone. No one answers to anyone for anything here. It’s a black hole.” I added, “And this is Operation Clean Sweep.”