Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Europe. I wasn’t sure about Rahim, but from experience I know that all prisoners are sorry for what they’ve done. Once freed, however, they’re only sorry they got caught.
Maybe Rahim was different. But even if he was, he didn’t join Al Qaeda to promote world peace. And he didn’t go to the American oil installation looking for a job; he went there knowing he was going to kill people. And if his jihadists had overrun the facility, they’d have killed everyone in it-American and European civilians, security people, Yemeni workers, and anyone else who lived or worked there. It didn’t turn out that way, but it could have. And now Rahim was sorry.
“Please to help me. I help you.”
I turned and left.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
In the better air outside the prison, Brenner said to Colonel Hakim, “Thank you for your time and assistance.”
Hakim didn’t reply to Brenner, but he did say to me, “Your visa, and that of your wife, remains a problem.”
“Sorry. Hey, maybe I need a tourist visa like all the Al Qaeda guys have who come through Sana’a Airport.”
Colonel Hakim didn’t have much to say about that, but he did advise both of us, “Be very careful here.”
If Ghumdan had a soundtrack, this is when I’d hear an ominous organ chord.
Brenner said to Hakim, “We can find our way back to our vehicle.” Then Brenner did a nice thing and saluted, and Colonel Hakim returned the salute. Military guys do that, even when they hate each other. Good bonding.
As Brenner and I walked back to the Land Cruiser, he said to me, “You shouldn’t piss him off.”
“Me? How about you?”
“He’s got some power, and we may need him at some point.”
“He and his government actually need us more than we need them.”
“True. But they don’t get that yet.”
“They will.”
It was good to be out of that prison. The place was rotting, and everyone in it was rotting. In fact, this whole country was rotting.
Brenner asked me, “What did you think of all that?”
“Let me speak to my spiritual advisor and I’ll get back to you. Meanwhile, I did get some insight into Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula.”
“Right. The Yemenis don’t know what they’re in for, or that they have a small window to snuff out Al Qaeda before these guys get their game on.”
“Well,” I pointed out, “if the Yemenis don’t know what’s coming, it’s no one’s fault but their own.”
“Correct. But the Yemeni Army and government are obsessed with their tribal problems, and their ongoing fight with South Yemen.” He added, “They think Al Qaeda is an American obsession.”
“Well, it is. But with good reason.”
“Correct.” Brenner said to me, “Good question about Aden.”
Actually, all my questions were good, but I replied, “I’m surprised the Sheraton in Aden hasn’t been attacked yet.” I pointed out, “Aside from the embassy, that’s where to find the most Americans in one place. And it’s not that secure.”
He nodded. “I’ve been there.”
“Me, too, and we’re going there again.”
We made our way through a cluster of decrepit buildings that looked like barracks. I could smell food cooking somewhere, and at the end of the barracks I saw the minarets of a small mosque. Soldiers lounged around, smoking and chewing whatever, and giving us the eye. Garrison life is no treat, but I’m sure the Yemeni Army liked it better than mounting field operations against a tough and motivated enemy. Same with the National Security police, who apparently sat out the attack on the Hunt Oil installation.
Brenner asked me, “Do you think The Panther is still in the Marib area?”
“I think he’s found a tribal sheik who’s giving him a secure base-a sanctuary.”
“Sounds that way.” He added, “But Marib may get hot for him after that attack.”
I motioned toward the crack troops sitting around and asked, “Will it?”
“Well, maybe not.”
On another subject, Brenner said to me, “The PSO always knew we were looking for The Panther. Now they know that a guy named John Corey has arrived to join the search.” He reminded me, “Assuming this information gets to Al Qaeda, then we have to hope that the name John Corey has some meaning to The Panther.”
Right. Like, “Hey, isn’t John Corey the guy who killed Asad Khalil? Let’s kill John Corey.” I said, as I’d already said, “God, I hope so.”
We were now crossing the dusty parade ground and I could see the Land Cruiser where we’d left it. I thought I saw Kate’s head in the rear seat. I really didn’t think there’d be a problem, but anything was possible in Yemen.
I asked Brenner, “So what’s with this tribal sheik who helped Al Qaeda?”
“Don’t know. But it happens. Either for money, or because a sheik wants to poke the government in the eye.” He assured me, “Next week, this sheik could be helping us.”
“Maybe he already did.”
“Right-Rahim thinks someone betrayed them. But that was Rahim’s first introduction to the battlefield, and what looked to him like a setup could just have been Hunt’s hired mercenaries doing what they get paid for.” He also informed me, “Our military attache and the CIA are doing an analysis and report of the attack.”
“Can’t wait to read it.” I reminded him, “The CIA was here before us.”
“Correct. They’re looking at the bigger picture. We’re looking for The Panther.”
“That
“Good point.”
I returned to the subject of this tribal sheik and said, “If we go out to the Badlands, are we supposed to trust the sheiks of Araby?”
Brenner assured me, “They’re good for their word-until someone makes them a better offer.”
“You can’t buy that kind of loyalty.”
Brenner said, “At least the Montagnards-the hill tribes-stayed loyal to the Americans right until the end.”
“That’ll teach them.”
“Well, we projected great power. No one bets on a loser. Right now in Yemen, no one can say who has the power, and who the winner is going to be. But if Al Qaeda starts to look like a winner, they’ll be able to recruit young Yemenis in great numbers. Then we have a problem, and we either have to cut and run, or get involved in a third land war.”
“Nuke ’em. It’s cheaper.”
He ignored my suggestion and said to me, “We can buy some time if we kill or capture Bulus ibn al-Darwish. He’s the driving force behind recruiting, training, and motivating this small but growing movement. Also, he apparently has some access to big money and he’s a hero to the jihadists because of the Cole attack. So if we get him, that will be a strategic and psychological blow to Al Qaeda here and around the world.”
“Right. And don’t forget that The Panther is an American. So maybe he thinks more clearly and logically than most of these whacked-out jihadists.”
“Maybe.”
We were closer to the Land Cruiser now, and I could definitely see Kate in the rear. Sometimes I forget how much I love my wife, and maybe I don’t always say it or show it, but then when a situation becomes dangerous, I realize I could lose her. I try to picture a life without her, living alone in New York in a big apartment on the fashionable Upper East Side, surrounded by trendy bars and restaurants bursting with single women… Is this
