Whiplash

“Make him a martyr?”

“It would be ironic. His death would surely serve a purpose. We could use it to rally the country. To return to purity, as we have always proposed.”

Banh

“The plane would be the best place to strike,” said Aberhadji. “It would be easy, and it would be a symbol. Or we could arrange it so it appeared that the Americans did it. Perhaps that would be better.”

“What if they retaliate?”

“They wouldn’t dare. How? What would they do? Invade? Then we use the warhead.”

Banh

“You told me the project was several months to completion, if not a year,” said the general.

“It is very close. It can be pushed closer,” said Aberhadji. “And—I will make contingencies.”

Aberhadji had, in fact, already prepared a contingency, and had a full warhead, though as Banh

“You lied to me?” said Banh

“Of course not. We can strike if necessary. Just not in the exact way, in the best way, we pla

“We will not kill our president,” said the general.

“We must.”

“I have to think about this,” said General Banh

“We can’t let this sin stain our nation.”

“Take the long view, Bani,” said the general. “Compromise at the moment may be the right way.”

“My long view ends in Paradise,” countered Aberhadji. “Where does yours end?”

37

Base Camp Alpha

OBJECTIVELY SPEAKING, THE GOAL OF THE OPERATION against the Sudan prison camp had been a success: Tarid was free, and heading toward Khartoum. Not only was he being tracked via satellite, thanks to the biomarker Da

But the operation had cost considerably more lives than Da

In war, sacrifice was inevitable, and even the best leader has to make decisions that led to deaths. But Da

There were many small changes he might have made, and yet they might not have led to a different result. The ferocity of the Sudanese defenders had been surprising. In general, they were not considered either effective or fierce. They had proven to be both. With a more aggressive leader, they might have cost the Whiplash team even more casualties.

On the whole, the Americans had performed well. The small group was starting to bond; Da

There was one glaring exception: Hera. She was the sand in the Vaseline. Or as Boston put it, “The only word to describe her rhymes with witch. And it ain’t rich.”

Da

“I can bust on her ass,” said Boston, reviewing the situation after they got back to Base Camp Alpha. “Pound a little respect into her pointy head.”

“I’ll handle it,” said Da

“You going to bag her?” Boston asked.

“I can’t while the mission is continuing. We’re short as it is. And she speaks Farsi better than Nuri. If this guy’s Iranian, that’s a big plus.”

“Your earphone thing doesn’t translate for you?”

“It does. But it’s not the same. Anyway, I can’t bag her now.”

“You can do anything you want, Chief. You de boss.”

Boston had been struggling to find a title other than colonel that fit. Boss, chief, skipper—nothing felt good on the tongue. He was just so used to calling Da

Nuri, meanwhile, was trying to figure out a next step.

“The good news is, Tarid’s in Khartoum,” he told Da

“What’s the bad?” said Da

“Besides the coffee?”

“From now on we operate only in places with Dunkin’ Donuts,” said Da

“The tag didn’t take properly. The signal is deteriorating. The rain must have diluted the marker before you got it on him.”

He’d also lost some marking Tilia. Nuri wasn’t sure whether that had been an accident or not, and didn’t mention it.

“Can we track him?” asked Da

“For a while.” Nuri got up and poured himself some more coffee. “Starbucks would be acceptable, if we could get it into the budget.”

“Yeah, but you can’t beat the doughnuts at Dunky.”

“True.” Nuri took a sip. As bad as the coffee might be, he was addicted. “The signal will be gone inside a week. I want to tag him again. I’ll go over to Khartoum. We’re going to have pull the plug here. Our cover is toast, we have to get rid of the mercs, and I have to believe the army’s going to be out for blood after this. So we’re best off recycling.”

“How?”

“Well, I think we have enough sensors at the milk barn down there to hold us for a bit. So we concentrate on our Mr. Tarid. Follow him. Find out where he’s going. We play civilian for a while. We can base ourselves in Khartoum. There are plenty of westerners there. We go to the backup covers. Restock.”

“Agreed,” said Da

“Yeah, I know. That sucks.”

Nuri had never lost a fellow officer on a mission before. He really didn’t feel as if he’d lost one now, either—he still divided the team up mentally, separating himself from Da

“We can’t take everybody into the capital anyway,” said Nuri. “You oughta stay away anyway.”

“Why me?”

“Because he’s seen you. You and Hera. And Boston.”

“And Flash.”

“Right.”

“I’m going with you,” said Da

“All right.” Nuri pulled over the chair and sat down. “We’re going to need more people eventually.”

“True. You think we would have done better last night with more people?”

“I think we did OK last night,” said Nuri.

“It was a hell of a bloodbath.”

“That’s Sudan these days. Sucks. I’m sorry we lost McGowan,” Nuri added.

“So am I.”

“But we did all right. We’re not—we don’t have all the firepower you guys used to have at Dreamland,” Nuri said, thinking Da

“We had some troubles in ops there, too,” said Da

He meant accepting the losses, but didn’t explain.

“The next batch of people we get should be heavier on the Agency side,” said Nuri, getting back to his point. “Your spec ops guys are OK shooters, but they’re not really spies. We’re going to need more spies, I think. Be useful following Tarid.”