had a feeling that T’ing was trying to warn her, was actually making a good faith effort to reciprocate her earlier candor. But coming right out and saying something was too foreign to his culture and to the way of doing business in the UN that had enabled him to survive for so long. It might not be much, but she suspected that it was the best he could do.
The enemy of my enemy — well, who would the enemy be? Macedonia? China? Probably the former, she decided, since she could see no immediate reason for China to be an open enemy at this time. Or maybe he was explaining China’s position? Then who was China’s enemy? Greece? But why?
The first strike was due to launch in two hours or so, given the time difference between Greece and D.C. Maybe she should let JCS know, tell them to… to what? To be careful? To expect treachery? They would be taking all necessary precautions anyway, and she had nothing definite to be factored in to their decision-making process. The cryptic words of a man who’d stood too often on the opposite side — what would they make of that?
Yet there was a kernel of meaning in T’ing’s words, she was certain. The only question now was whether she was smart enough to figure it out. And if he’d had the guts to give her a warning of some sort, then she would have to find a way to decipher it.
Pamela Drake put her hands on her hips and glared at Colonel Xerxes. “I’m not going anywhere,” she announced. She pointed at the all-terrain vehicle waiting for her. “You can forget it.”
“You don’t understand the danger,” he began.
Her temper erupted. “I’ve been in more wars in the last two years than you’ve seen in your entire lifetime,” she snapped. “I didn’t run when the Cubans took me hostage, and I’m not running now.”
“If you were a hostage, then by definition you couldn’t run,” he pointed out. “This is a different situation entirely.”
“Not as far as I’m concerned.” She took a step closer and laid one hand on his biceps. “This is what I do for a living. Don’t you understand that?”
“Crash in helicopters?”
“When required. Listen, if I’m not here, someone else is going to get the story. Someone who may not be as open-minded as I am. You need me here if your side of this thing is going to get a fair airing in the international news.”
Xerxes was silent for a moment, seemingly fascinated by a small patch of dirt next to his shoe. Finally he looked up, and she was shocked by the anger she saw in his eyes. “Do you think that this is what this is about? Sides, stories, photo opportunities? Have you learned nothing about war in this oh-so-glorious career of yours?”
“I’ve learned plenty about it.”
“But not the most important thing.” He pulled away from her and headed for the vehicle. “And until you do, you’re a danger to me and my men.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve seen dead bodies before, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He turned to face her, sadness crowding out the anger. “I’m sure you have. But the one thing you haven’t seen yet is dead friends. And until you understand that, until you’re capable of leaving your precious objectivity aside long enough to understand the human cost of this, you don’t understand anything other than the facts.”
“I have to be objective. That’s what makes it reporting.”
He shook his head, and turned away again. “That’s what makes it sad. You know, you’ve never even asked me what happened to the bodies of the other people on the helicopter.”
Pamela watched him go, confusion raging in her mind. How dare he — did he have any idea who he was talking to?
Of course he did. He knew from the moment she was brought to his camp who she was. Other than not being permitted to leave — not that she’d have gone if offered the opportunity — she’d been treated well, in accordance with her standing in the international community. So he understood who she was, what she did. Why then these comments about dead friends, about the other people on the helicopter? They all knew the risks when they’d gotten on board.
He probably had a family somewhere, maybe a wife and kids. Did they know what had happened to him? The news had reported the helicopter as lost, but there’d been no discussion on the disposition of the bodies. Surely his family had been notified privately and they knew the awful truth — that he wasn’t coming back in one piece.
Tombstone. His face flashed into her mind as she thought about the cameraman’s family. She knew what Tombstone had suffered over the years, not knowing the fate of his own father, and that had lasted for decades. It had finally driven him into Vietnam and Russia in search of answers.
Would it bring the cameraman’s family to Macedonia? And if they came, would she see them? How would she answer their questions about his final moments?
Xerxes vaulted into the vehicle and tapped the driver on the shoulder. He pulled away, did a U-turn, and headed back toward the camp.
She watched him go, a tall, passionate man, one who asked questions that disturbed her certain world immeasurably. Another chilling question crossed her mind, one that bothered her more than she would have liked.
TWELVE
Bird Dog ran through the prelaunch checklist, calling out the steps as he went. From the backseat, Gator double-checked him at every step. It seemed to Bird Dog that his RIO was moving slower that usual. Was Gator pissed at him? He ran back through the last few days, trying to see if there was a reason for it.
Nothing as far as he could remember, and neither of them had had enough time off to get drunk enough to forget something truly significant.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” Bird Dog asked. “You on the rag or something?”
Gator snorted. “Right. And I suppose you’ve been doing your usual sterling job of paying attention at briefings?” He read off the next step in the checklist and waited for Bird Dog’s response.
“I was there. And I took notes, too.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And you’re entirely satisfied with the mission planning?”
Bird Dog could tell from Gator’s tone of voice that there was a right answer to the question, and it wasn’t “yes.” “Maybe,” he said. “I might have done it a little differently, but I’m not on staff anymore. I’ve got an ingress route and a place to drop ordnance — what’s not to like?”
“And what did you think about Tombstone’s concern over those SAM sites?” Gator pressed. “Bothered you a little?”
“Ah. I see. You’re willing to risk your ass — and mine as well, I might point out — based on the word of a
