One of the Whiplash team members took a truck out to meet him, and guided him to the maintenance area — a lone fuel truck standing in the middle of an open space.
The Tigershark had been designed to operate from forward bases, and the aircraft’s engine intakes had special screens designed to lessen the possibility that they would ingest engine debris. This base was rough even by Whiplash standards, however; he’d need some help checking the runway before takeoff.
Turk popped the canopy, secured the aircraft, then clambered down to the ground. His muscles felt as if they’d atrophied after his long stint in the air.
“Captain Mako, welcome to Shangri-La,” said Boston, hopping from the truck that had escorted him in.
“Hey, Boston.” Turk stuck out his hand. “Long time no see. Call me Turk.”
“Yes, sir, Turk.”
“Where can I get some food and a bunk?” he asked.
“Empty beds in either that little building over there, next to the two big ones,” said Boston, pointing. “Or else one of the tents. We have prisoners in the ones with guards outside them.”
“I’ll stay out of those.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“Where’s Colonel Freah?”
“That would be the big building on the left.”
“Wash the windows and check the oil,” said Turk as he started for the building.
“Jeez, very funny, sir. I never heard that one. Har-har.”
Turk cracked up. Corny jokes always put him into a good mood.
He walked up the slight rise toward the buildings, warmed by the sun as it poked between the nearby peaks. He was just pulling open the door to the large building when someone on the other side yanked it from his hand. A furious cloud flew out of the door, knocking him back.
It was the most beautiful cloud he’d ever seen.
“Wow, aren’t you pretty,” said Turk.
“And aren’t you an asshole,” said Melissa, practically spitting at him.
“Come on,” laughed Turk. “You must have seen bigger ones.”
“Asshole.”
Turk watched her walk away. He had never seen a pair of fatigues move with such sexual energy before.
“Enjoy the show?” asked Danny Freah when he turned back around.
“I would have landed hours ago if I knew the sights were so pretty,” said Turk.
“Watch yourself, Captain.”
“I will, Colonel. Definitely. Say, you got a minute? I may need a little help inspecting the runway to make sure we don’t have debris before takeoff. Plus, I have a couple of ideas about where the bad guys may be.”
Danny frowned at him. “I have to go into town. Talk to me while I walk.”
Nuri waited impatiently by the Mercedes for Danny to finish talking to the pilot. They should have been in Duka already. It was important to show that he had no connection with the raid; so important that he was willing to go in even without a connection to MY-PID.
Of course, this might be a wild-goose chase. The rest of the aircraft could be hundreds of miles away by now.
“Sorry that took so long,” said Danny, finally coming over. “I wanted to make sure we have some more people and gear in case you can’t work out a deal.”
“How long before it gets here?” asked Nuri.
“It’s en route. It may be a while.”
Nuri walked to the driver’s side door. “I’ll drive.”
“Hold up,” said Danny.
“What?”
“I thought we were taking Melissa.”
“She’s not here, that’s her problem.”
“What is it with you and her, Nuri?” said Danny. “What do you have against her?”
“She’s not telling us the whole story,” said Nuri. “And I don’t trust her.”
“You have to keep the Whiplash people cut out of the picture.”
Harker was practically shouting. Melissa started to raise her right arm to rub her forehead, but a shock of pain stopped her. Sugar probably had been right — she almost certainly had torn a ligament.
“Look, the only way to get the UAV back is with their help,” Melissa told her boss.
“That’s not a question — get it back.”
“Then I have to work with them. You sent them.”
“I didn’t send them. The director sent them. Not the same thing.”
She glanced at her watch. She was ten minutes late. Nuri would have a fit.
Hell, he’d probably left without her. It would be just like him.
“I have to go,” she told Harker.
“Melissa. Get this done. Take out Mao Man. If you—”
She killed the line, turned off the phone, and shoved the sat phone back into the safe box in her footlocker. Her other phone was already in her pocket.
Melissa locked up everything, then paused at the door. She didn’t have a mirror; all she could do was glance down at her clothes.
Frumpy. But that was the best she was going to manage. She pulled open the door, locked it behind her, and started down toward the Mercedes. No one was standing near it, and her first thought was that she wasn’t late at all. Then she realized that both Danny and Nuri were inside.
She started to run.
“About time you got here,” said Nuri as she pulled open the door. He started the car and put it in gear, not waiting for her to buckle her seat belt.
“Gonna be a long drive folks,” said Danny. “Let’s all relax. Where you from?”
“San Francisco,” Melissa said.
Nuri felt his cheeks burning as the two began a trivial conversation about their backgrounds.
The problem was that she was good-looking. If she’d been ugly — or better, if she’d been a guy — Danny would have played it entirely straight. He’d have kept her at arm’s length, trusted everything Nuri said. She’d be back at the base, or even in Alexandria, where she couldn’t screw anything up.
Granted, she might be useful at the clinic. Maybe.
Nuri’s foul mood settled over him as he drove. About two miles from the border, he went off the main road to bypass the guards at the main crossing, using a trail he’d spotted from the satellite photos. It was clearly well traveled — though dirt, it was hard packed, and even doing fifty, the Mercedes raised little dust. Within an hour, they were approaching Duka.
“We’re going to switch, right?” asked Danny. “I’m your driver.”
“Right,” said Nuri, feeling a little foolish. He took his foot off the gas and coasted to a stop. “Thanks. I forgot.”
Chapter 21
If the Agency was running a deeply dangerous and illegal operation, how far would it go to keep the secret to itself?
The ends of the earth, and beyond.
