traffic from Sidorenko’s hoodlums. They have a code name for you, I guess, but some dipshit referred to you as ‘seryj muzhchina’ on an open line.”
“Gray Man,” Court translated with a frustrated sigh. “Brilliant.”
“Fucking geniuses, these Ivans,” said Zack sarcastically. “They said you’d be coming to see the boss today. NSA sent word to Langley; Langley passed it on to me.”
Court nodded. “It’s shoot on sight, Zack. You drugged me just to bring me here to slap me around first?”
“Nah, the SOS is officially on hold, at least while you and I have a little discussion. The ass-kicking? That’s personal.”
“You call that an ass-kicking?”
“Who says I’m done?”
Court’s brown eyebrows drew together. “Back in Virginia. I shot you, point-blank. Forty-four caliber. I saw you go backwards out a window. Two stories down.”
Zack grinned. Like a hyena, he smiled but did not look happy. “Don’t remind me. My vest caught the round, but I landed pretty fucking hard on an air-conditioning unit. Broke my pelvis in two places. Collarbone and a couple of ribs for good measure.” Zack winced as if he were remembering the event, until something popped into his memory. He added, “Never knew you to carry a Derringer.”
“Never had cause to mention it. Good thing I didn’t.”
Zack shrugged. “Depends on your point of view. To tell you the truth, I’d have loved to have known about it.”
“So why were you guys there? What did I do?”
Zack shrugged, like the answer was obvious. “Termination order from on high. You know how it is.”
“No. Actually, I don’t. What the hell did I do wrong, Zack?” Court’s voice was plaintive.
Hightower shrugged again. “Dunno. I’m just a worker bee. I got the term order on you, and I went to work that day, just like any other.”
“Bullshit. They gave you a reason.”
“Kid, when have I ever needed a reason to follow an order? I’m not like you, all navel-gazing and introspective. I do my shitty day job with a smile on my face.”
Court was certain his former team leader was lying; no one at CIA would order an SAD field team leader to delete his own man without so much as an explanation, but he decided to let it go. “The men, the guys with you who jumped me tonight, they’re your new Goon Squad?”
“More or less. Not Golf Sierra but Whiskey Sierra, so I’m still Sierra One. Bureaucratically we’re set up different than the old gang. Mission and rules of engagement are more restrictive these days. But basically it’s the same idea. My new crew consists of a couple of ex-SEALS, an ex-Delta, two SF guys who crossed over to CIA black ops way back when. Pretty good bunch, but certainly not Court Gentry caliber. You’ll always be my best door kicker.” He smiled. “You fucked Todd up pretty good: busted nose and a dislocated jaw.”
“Sorry,” replied Court, but he didn’t mean it.
“Shit happens.” Zack shrugged. Clearly he didn’t mean it either.
“So why am I here?”
Zack Hightower reached out for the ice bag, took it from Gentry’s face, and wrapped it over his swollen fist. “Abboud. President Bakri Ali Abboud.”
TEN
“What about him?”
“You’re goin’ in to whack him on an op for Sid.”
Court saw no point in playing dumb. If the CIA knew this much, they probably knew more details about Sid’s op at this point than Gentry did himself. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“Yeah, well, you will. We want you to.”
“What makes you think I give a shit what you want?”
“Just listen to my spiel, kid. It’s that or the term order, so why not?”
Court pulled the ice pack back, repositioned it lower, leaving his black eye uncovered but soothing the growing pain in his lip. From behind it he said, “I’m listening.”
Hightower leaned forward. “Here’s the sit rep, kid.” Gentry was thirty-six years old, but Hightower had called him kid since the first day they met, eight years earlier. “We want you to take Sidorenko’s job, use the Ruskies to get into the Sudan. They have a solid op to get you in, better than anything we can orchestrate without using agency transportation and logistical assets, which we’re not allowed to do.”
“And then?”
“Then you make like you’re going to pop Abboud, but at the last second, we want you to snatch him.”
“Kidnap him?”
“Affirmative.”
“And then?”
“Then you pass him off to me and my boys. We’ll be on site, outta sight but close by. You hand him over to us and exfiltrate over water with my team.”