On Target - By Mark Greaney Page 0,91

be DHL’d into Port Sudan. We gave them beer and smokes and made friends.”

Court picked a black cat up off his leg, sent it on its way with a gentle toss towards the stairs.

“You been in town yet?” Zack asked as he tucked his butt closer to Court on the ruined flooring of the old building so he could talk softer. Their voices carried deceptively far in the night.

“Negative. You?”

Zack nodded. Court could just see the tip of his chin rise and lower. “Major hellhole. And I know hellholes. It’s got an Old West vibe to it. The only power in town is from generators. There is one paved surface in the city. All the other streets and alleys are hard-packed earth, donkey shit, goat shit, and camel shit everywhere you step. The buildings are made out of cracking limestone and coral, like this shit here. There isn’t a structure in the city that I couldn’t topple with a brickbat and a half hour. Probably seventy-five percent of the buildings are little huts, made with driftwood and tin and rusted-out fifty-five gallon drums.

“So, no hardened cover when it goes loud,” Gentry said, completing Zack’s obvious point for him.

“Shit, if it goes loud tomorrow morning, buildings are going to fall down on top of you from the sound waves.” Zack shrugged. Court heard the motion in the dark, but he could not see him in the shadows. “Which wouldn’t be so bad for the locals. This joint could do for some urban renewal.”

“Police presence?”

“Negligible during our recon. A few Chinese AKs on dudes in civilian dress patrolling around. Three or four pickup trucks and a couple of hundred-year-old cannon in front of the police station.”

“Cannon?”

“Just for decoration.”

Court nodded.

Zack said, “Just so you know, Sudan Station is still shitting bricks about your actions over in North Darfur. Everybody says Sierra Six has gone rogue; he’s pulling his own op four hundred miles away from his target. You really fucked up. I don’t hear from you for three days, and when I finally do, you don’t offer much explanation for all the bang bang in the desert.” He looked to Gentry for a reply.

“Yeah,” Court admitted with a sigh. “It got weird.”

Zack shrugged. “The White House is up Denny Carmichael’s butt to know what is going on. I share their concern.”

“I told you what happened.”

“This woman from the ICC. The Canadian. She can ID you?”

“She doesn’t know who I am.”

“Is she going to make trouble?”

“Maybe for me, down the road. But not for this op.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Court thought it over and said, “Yeah. I’m sure. She thinks I’m the epitome of evil . . . but she does believe that our interests coincide as far as whatever it is I’m up to here.”

Zack sat there in the dark for a long time. He seemed to let it go, albeit slowly. “Tomorrow at oh six thirty Abboud will leave the house where he’s staying. It’s a ten-mike walk to the mosque. It is five mikes to the square, one mike more to get him right in front of the bank building. The SLA will hit the square from the north at oh six thirty-six exactly.”

“They got watches?”

“Sudan Station says they do.”

“Whiskey Sierra isn’t in direct contact with the rebels?”

“Negative. Sudan Station has a case officer in town; he’s running the SLA.” He shrugged. Kind of a What’cha gonna do? look about the gesture. “I need you to be on your mark in the bank when the shit hits the fan.”

“Roger that.”

“When you snatch Oryx, take him one block south and eight blocks west of the back of the bank. There is a four-door black Skoda Octavia sedan in the parking lot of a brick-making factory. Sudan Station put it there, paid one of the kiln operators to spend the night on the hood to watch over it. Here are the keys.”

Court took them. He asked, “Where are you going to be between now and go time?”

“Me, Brad, Milo, and Dan are staying on the Hannah . We’ll be in place tomorrow morning.”

“Where’s Sierra Five?”

“Spencer is already in town. He and the case officer from Sudan Station are staying at a hotel called the Suakin Palace. Spencer assures me it’s no palace. What it is, though, is a decent third-floor overwatch on the square. The case officer is going to leave tonight to get out of the way, but Spencer will stay there, be the eye for us.”

“That’s good.” Court was pleasantly surprised there

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