“Sudan Station does. They have a force of one hundred Sudanese Liberation Army rebels who can hit Suakin at six thirty-five a.m. on Sunday, ten April. Exactly when Abboud and his entourage hit the square. The president and some of his close protection detail will enter the bank, which of course will be empty.”
“But it won’t be empty.”
Zack smiled and nodded aggressively, “You got it. You’ll be in there, ready to disable the guard force and snatch Abboud, get him out of town while the SLA blows some shit up and jumps around for a few minutes, distracting the locals and the rest of Abboud’s team. Then you meet up with me for the handoff.” It was clear Hightower was excited by the operation; his hands and his body had not stopped moving since he’d begun his explanation.
Court sat there silently for a moment, then asked, “Is this where I start clapping?”
“This is a good plan, Six. Operation Nocturne Sapphire, we’re calling it.”
“A thrill just went up my leg,” said Court sarcastically, still unfazed by Zack’s vigor.
“But the best part is the deal I’ve been authorized to offer you.”
Gentry looked at his former team leader a long time before speaking. “The CIA has wanted me on a slab for four years. What kind of deal could you offer that would interest me?”
“No slab, for starters. We call off the dogs. Not just CIA, but Interpol, too.”
“Interpol doesn’t scare me.”
“I know they don’t. You don’t scare easy. Never did. But I know what does scare the Gray Man.”
“What scares me, Zack?”
“We scare you. Wouldn’t you like to be free of us? Free of the shoot-on-sight sanction? I know what your life is like, bro. People talk about the Gray Man like you’re some sort of flashy-assed James Bond, jet-setting around the world, partying at the best clubs, and drinking martinis with the beautiful people on the Côte d’Azur. But I know what it’s really like: living on the run, bouncing from one shit splat town to the next, no one loves you, no one likes you, no one fucking knows you. Always looking into the shadows for crazy motherfuckers like me hunting you down. Eating beans out of a can in a stairwell in a roach-infested flophouse while the real tuxedo crowd is around the corner dining on lobster tail at the Four Seasons.”
Truer words had never been spoken, but Court was not about to give Zack the satisfaction of admitting he was right.
“I like beans.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t like any of it, except the job. The job is you. The rest is just your fucked-up temporary predicament. I know the score, Sierra Six. Being the Gray Man sucks.”
“So let me guess. You’re here to take me away from all that?”
“Damn right. I can keep you on the job, but you won’t be hunted anymore, at least by us.”
“On the job? Working for who?”
“The CIA, of course.” Zack reached across and held Court’s face by the chin, turned it from side to side. “I thought we just covered that. What, did I hit you too hard?” He took the ice pack from Gentry and returned it to his hand.
Court said, “I do this gig in Sudan for you, but after that, you’re offering full-time work? Just like the last four years didn’t happen? Everything goes back to the way it was in the old days?”
“Negative. I’m offering contract work. Keeps Langley’s hands clean, and it pays a damn sight better than a real government salary.” He smiled. “We want you back.” Then he shrugged his shoulders. “Well, let me rephrase that. I’m not talking about a desk and a reserved parking space at Langley. That doesn’t happen to guys like you. CIA won’t acknowledge working with the Gray Man. But from time to time we run into situations where I hear people say, ‘Sure wish Sierra Six was still here, instead of out in bumble fuck, doin’ private hits for pimps and drug dealers.’ I swear, we miss you sometimes.”
He paused before saying, “You always were the best. We want you alive, Court. Doing the dirty jobs under a false flag.”
“How do I know you aren’t just going to kill me when the Sudan op is done?”
“Because we need you. We aren’t asking you to go raise daffodils in Iowa in the Witness Protection Program here. We want you to keep doing what you’re doing, living out here in the cold, and we’ll keep up the front