“You,” Justin called at the younger of the two, barely in his twenties, who had no weapons in his hands or on his body. “You speak English?”
The man gave no reply while the other one opened his mouth and said, “I speak English.”
“I will take you safely to the Egyptian border—” Nassir said.
Justin interrupted him with a stern glance and a strong headshake.
“Carrie, kill this man.” Justin pointed with his hand to the silent young man.
She nodded and swung her rifle away from Nassir, who blinked rapidly in shock. The young man kept staring at Justin, then asked in Arabic the other man, who was slowly backing away from the Land Rover, “What is he saying? What are they doing?”
“Don’t talk to him,” Justin shouted. “Carrie, kill this man,” he repeated his order.
She moved closer to the young man with her gun pointing down. The young man, still oblivious to the threat against his life, eyed her curiously. It seemed he was wondering about the agents’ sudden interest in him.
Justin was using a CIS trick to find out if the man really understood their language. If he remained calm in the face of mounting danger, the man either knew no English or knew no fear. In both cases, these were qualities Justin was looking for at this moment.
“What do you want?” the man asked finally, again in Arabic, as Carrie stood right in front of him.
“Do you know the roads to northern Chad?” Justin asked him in Arabic.
The man nodded. “I can get you to Agoza by sunset,” he replied with confidence.
“That’s in the Ennedi region, right?” Justin asked, to check if the man was telling the truth and knew how to get them to Sudan’s western neighbor.
“Right,” the man replied. “Very secluded and remote.”
Justin smiled. He is telling the truth. “Yes, it’s a great hiding place.”
He could not care less whether Agoza was secluded or whether it was a safe place. They were not going west to Agoza. Cairo, their destination, was northeast. But if the Mossad, the Alliance or anyone else asked about the agents, Justin wanted to lead them after false trails in the deserts of northern Chad.
“Fantastic,” Justin said. “We’ve got a deal. What’s your name?”
“Mus’ad”
“Well, Mus’ad, today’s your lucky day,” Justin said, emphasizing the young man’s name, which in Arabic meant favored by fortune. He pulled out a wad of American dollars from his knapsack. “Five thousand.” He waved the money in the air. “If we’re in Agoza by sunset.”
Mus’ad’s eyebrows jumped up at the lucrative proposal. The amount was a remarkable payoff even among gunrunners. Justin could see the man was already thinking how he was going to spend the promised cash.
“I’ll get you there in plenty of time for dinner and drinks,” Mus’ad said.
Nassir was observing their exchange in silence.
“We part ways here,” Justin said, turning toward Nassir and stretching out his hand.
Nassir hesitated for a moment. He holstered his pistol inside his belt and gave Justin’s hand a firm grip.
“Watch out for rebels,” he whispered, “the road to Chad is full of traps. Starving refugees, militia, bandits, kidnappers… Without proper protection, you’re in grave danger.”
“I appreciate your concern, but we’re going to be just fine,” Justin replied. “So long.”
Carrie followed him as Justin approached the other gunman. He was still standing at a distance from Nassir and the Land Rover.
“We need a favor,” Justin whispered and shoved a few hundred dollar bills in the man’s left hand, “give Ali and Khalid a proper burial. They died fighting and they deserve to leave his world in an honorable way.”
The gunman nodded and quickly hid his money underneath his robe.
“Thank you and so long,” Justin said, loud enough for Nassir to hear, if he was eavesdropping. “Mus’ad, it’s time to go.”
Chapter Eight
Ten minutes later, Justin ordered Mus’ad, the driver, to stop the sheikh’s BMW by the burning helicopter’s wreckage. Carrie stood guard to ensure Mus’ad did not steal a glance at their precious package. The four-seater had only two rows, and Justin and Carrie debated whether their package should be stowed away in the trunk or should stay in the backseat.
At the end, they decided the first option provided more discretion. Justin led the suspected Israeli agent inside the BMW’s trunk. He made sure the captive had sufficient oxygen and the air circulation inside the car kept a reasonably cool temperature in the trunk. Justin left the lid of the trunk inside the BMW slightly open, to provide for a greater visibility when checking the package’s conditions. Wounded, tied, and gagged, the Israeli agent presented no real threat of escape. At least in theory. But Justin had witnessed numerous cases of incredible disappearances. He was leaving nothing to chance, convinced that everything was possible for a man of Mossad.
Half an hour into the drive, Justin took out his satellite phone from his knapsack.
“You ready for this call?” Carrie asked.
“Not really. But I’ve got to do it.”
“She’s not gonna like it.”
“I know,” Justin replied with a deep sigh.
The satellite phone grew heavy in his hand as Justin considered his options. Realizing he had none, he forced his fingers to dial Anna’s number.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said softly after hearing Anna’s voice, “how are things there?”
“Great. You’re OK?”
“Yes, yes. I’m fine.”
“You didn’t call me yesterday. I waited by the phone for an hour.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Justin replied with a wince as Carrie shook her head. “I just didn’t have a chance.”
“I understand. Now tell me you’re calling from the airport.”
“Hmmm… No, I’m not at the airport. There has been a change of plans.”
Dead silence followed. Justin thought the connection was interrupted, but a second later he heard Anna’s weak breath.
“So you’re not flying home tonight?” she asked.
“No, not tonight.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Sweetie, I don’t know when I’ll come home.”
Another few dead moments.
“Should I cancel our trip?”
“Yes, please.”
“Will you at least make it for my birthday, and… and our anniversary?”
It was now Justin’s turn to hold his tongue.
“I take that as a no, Justin.”
“Sorry, it doesn’t always depend on me.”
“Where is Johnson sending you now?”
Justin hesitated before answering. “I can’t… can’t really explain that… I’m not alone at the moment.”
Although they had sealed the Israeli’s ears with rough and ready earplugs, and Mus’ad understood no English, Justin was not willing to take any unnecessary risks. Besides, agents were expected not to reveal the nature or the location of their missions. Justin preferred to give Anna any another explanation than the standard reference to the agency’s operatives manual.
“So what can you tell me?” Anna asked.
“That I love you,” Justin replied.
“Are you going to be safe? Promise me you’re going to be safe.”
“You know I don’t like making promises I can’t keep.”
“Exactly. So make it and keep it.”
“I’ll do my best to be safe. And I want you to take care of yourself as well.”
“Oh, what will happen to me? A legal briefing will fall on my lap?”
“You know what I mean.”