Dead Six

The Coup

LORENZO

May 10

The news was grim. There had been an explosion at the palace. The emir was dead. Until further notice, a curfew was in effect at eight o’clock every evening. The radio’s volume had been turned up, and the crowd of foreign workers, mostly Pakistani and Sri Lankan, gathered at the cafe were all listening carefully, many of them surely wondering just how bad it was going to get, but too poor to leave their relatively good-paying jobs to fly home. The news report ended on the high note that the heroic General Sabah had personally assured the destruction of the Zionist backed criminals, and all the workers went back to their cheap food.

“Tomorrow’s the big day. Are you nervous?” Jill asked.

“Of course not,” I lied. “I eat commando death squads for breakfast.”

The two of us were not that far from our apartment. Tired of waiting for the Fat Man, and feeling the need to keep busy, we had continued our search for Dead Six. It had been just as fruitless as before. Zubara was a big city, and nobody we talked to recognized the Americans of Dead Six. I don’t know where they bought their food, or who did their laundry, and apparently none of them had ever taken a taxi, and it was really pissing me off.

Jill Del Toro’s education was coming along. She’d been my shadow for the last few days. She no longer walked like an American in public, and I was pretty sure I’d gotten her to the point that she was street-smart enough to not just get randomly murdered on her own. Today she was playing a relatively convincing imported Filipina. I’d helped her with her makeup so she’d look more forgettable. She looked like a cleaning lady and I looked like I should be unclogging drains.

It turned out that both of us were fluent in Spanish. Jill’s paternal grandparents had been Mexican immigrants, and her dad had met and married her mom while stationed in Subic Bay. So we could converse freely here, as hardly anybody except for the occasional Filipino or European spoke Spanish in the Zoob and it didn’t stick out in public like English did.

She’d come along pretty well. If she had the inclination, I thought she could actually have a future as a criminal. She was certainly a good liar. “I’m not worried, either,” Jill said with confidence.

The last few days had been kind of awkward. Neither one of us talked about what had happened between us, which was good, I think, because that would have just needlessly complicated things. I had to keep my mind on business. “There’s something important I need to talk to you about.”

“Yes?” Jill responded quickly.

“It’s about tomorrow’s job,” I said.

“Oh.” She went back to her food, stabbing an olive with her fork.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. This could be something simple and I can just walk right in and grab the box, or it could be crazy. I just don’t know. We’re going to have to come up with a plan on the fly. So I might need your help, I might not.”

“I’m ready. Dead Six ruined my life, Lorenzo. I’ll do whatever I have to do. I already showed you I’m willing to shoot them. What more do you need me to prove?”

I smiled. She was aggressive. “That’s not what I meant. Tomorrow, we either succeed or fail. After that, it’s on to Phase Three, and that’s my problem, not yours.”

“When will you tell me what that even is?”

“You really don’t want to know. Let’s just say that it’s stupid and dangerous. But that’s not what I’m talking about. What I’m trying to say is that after tomorrow, you’re done.”

She looked up from her lunch. “What do you mean?”

“I told you that if you helped me, I’d help you. I’ve had Reaper working on fake papers for you. I’ve got contacts I can refer you through. Basically, after tomorrow, you can go back to the US if you want.” I would need to walk her through all the details of setting up a new life, but she didn’t belong here, in this disintegrating shit hole, not anymore.

“Home?” Jill seemed shocked. Not upset, just surprised. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“We’ll worry about tomorrow first.” I noticed some blue uniforms coming down the street. The security forces were randomly rousting people off the streets for questioning. It would be best to avoid that. I pulled out my wallet and threw down some riyals. “We’ll talk about it later.”

VALENTINE

Fort Saradia National Historical Site

May 10

1400

Following Sarah, I stepped out into the harsh desert heat. We made our way down the stairs of the dorm, followed by everyone else who’d been inside. Sarah and Anita had gone around banging on doors, telling everyone to follow them to the chow hall. She’d come to my room last.

Everyone kept asking her what was going on. She would only tell them she didn’t know why, but Colonel Hunter had ordered an all-hands meeting. Something big had gone down. We hadn’t had a meeting like this since our first night in-country.

For my part, I could guess what was happening. Gordon had told me that Project Heartbreaker was winding down. I wondered if, hell, hoped that the Project had been canceled and that we’d all be going home.

We all filed into the chow hall, and people began to sit down. Several of Hunter’s security people were standing around, looking just as confused as the rest of us. My old buddy Conrad was there, too, looking as dickish as usual.

Aside from the support staff, only fifteen members of Dead Six were present. I knew another ten or so were still out at safe houses throughout the city. Even still, a lot of faces were missing, and almost a third of the guys present had been wounded.

Even our support staff hadn’t been untouched. Sarah, Anita King, and another controller whose name I couldn’t recall were there. But the fourth controller, a woman named Evelyn Majors, had been killed in action. She’d been sent in to a captured enemy safe house to help gather intelligence. The whole place had been wired. It blew up, killing her and all of Hansen’s chalk. A couple of the logistics guys had been killed by a suicide bomber downtown.

We sat around talking for a few minutes. The dull roar of conversation quickly dropped away when Colonel Hunter came purposefully striding into the room. He stopped at the front of the chow hall, near the carts where the food was served.

“Listen up, everyone,” he said, his raspy voice echoing through the now-quiet cafeteria. “Two hours ago there was an explosion at the Royal Palace. The emir is dead. It’s been confirmed. General Al Sabah has declared martial law and has effected a nationwide curfew. He’s deploying half the Zubaran Army throughout the city in order to lock everything down.

“Not all of the Army is on his side. According to our information, one of the emir’s sons is still alive and is trying to rally support. General Al Sabah claims that the emir’s son assassinated his father in a coup attempt. We have every reason to believe that General Al Sabah was the one behind the bombing. Either way, a civil war is about to break out in this country, and our support network is gone.”

“What does this mean, sir?” someone asked.

Hunter looked thoughtful for a second. “Without Zubaran support, we can’t function. We can’t get supplies in and out of the country, and half of our best intelligence came from the emir’s secret police. This is a crippling blow to our operations. Project Heartbreaker has failed.” Hunter let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “I’ve been in contact with higher authority. I spoke with Gordon Willis half an hour ago. Project Heartbreaker has been