Finally Mohammed pulled over again. Court was surprised to find himself right where he’d been picked up a half hour before. The policeman said, “Tomorrow morning I will be at the agreed upon location at the agreed upon time. I will take you to a house in Khartoum where you can wait until it is safe to go to the airport.”
Gentry reached into his front pocket and pulled out a band-covered roll of euros. It was Sid’s money, of course; the CIA hadn’t given him any cash.
Court made it back to his overnight hide at eleven o’clock. He checked to make sure nothing in his packs had been disturbed, and he opened a tepid bottle of water and drank it down. Then he picked up the Hughes Thuraya and made a call.
Zack answered on the third ring. “Just getting some beauty sleep, Six; this better be good.” Hightower spoke sleepily.
“You need to abort Nocturne Sapphire. The rebels are compromised.”
When Hightower spoke again, he was wide awake. “Says who?”
“Says the FSB informant. He’s a local cop. A crew of NSS and a company of GOS infantry is in town because a dozen SLA were tracked here.”
“A dozen?”
“Roger that.”
“One dozen. One-two rebel fighters?”
“His intel seems solid.”
There was a long break. “Fucking Sudan Station.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. Local CIA either exaggerated the shit out of the SLA’s ability to get men into the theater, or—”
“Or the SLA lied, fudged the numbers to get a pay-check from Uncle Sam. And then they go and get their bush-league asses compromised!”
“Fuckers.”
“Roger that.” Sierra One’s chuckle came out of Court’s phone. “Never thought I’d say this, but thank God for Sidorenko and his local contact.”
“Yeah, right? This could have been messy.”
“Let me call this in to Denny.”
“Tell him you need to abort.”
“Let’s see what he says.”
“Hit me back ASAP, One. I can still do the hit on Oryx; the opposition in the area won’t stop me from that.”
“Let’s see what Denny says,” Zack repeated.
Court’s overnight hide was, from an operational standpoint at least, a near perfect location to store his gear and lay up for the night. With both large rucks opened and the gear sorted and positioned for his fast access, he found a warm boulder large and flat enough for him to lie on. The gentle tickling of the lagoon’s waves against the shoreline rocks was peaceful and would help him rest when the time came.
He’d waited over an hour for the call back from Zack. It came after midnight, just as Gentry’s eyes shut and he nodded off to sleep.
He’d wired the satellite phone into his C4OPS system, so when the earpiece chirped in Court’s ear, he just pressed a button on the phone to send the call directly into the headset.
Gentry answered quickly. “Yeah?”
“Carmichael says go ahead.”
“With Sid’s hit on Abboud, right?”
“Negative. We stick with Nocturne Sapphire. Snatch Oryx and exfil over water.”
“How the hell can I snatch him with all the opposition in the—”
“Sudan Station doesn’t believe it. Thinks either it’s bullshit intel your source is feeding you, or bullshit intel you’re feeding us. And Carmichael is siding with the local station. We go ahead for now, discount this single source of yours, because local CIA says there are thirty-five SLA here, no reports of major NSS or GOS movements. The SLA say they will hit the square at oh six thirty-six tomorrow morning, no problems.”
“I’m not feeding anyone bullshit, Zack.”
“I know you’re not. Listen, Carmichael says I am cleared to make a game-time decision. I can knock it off at any point if it doesn’t look good tomorrow morning. He’s given me the go-ahead to be on site.”
“You’re going to be at the bank with me?”
“No, but we’ll be close by. He’s green-lighted Whiskey Sierra for direct action if the situation requires it.”
Court sucked in the moist air. “Seriously? You guys are going to shoot it out with the bodyguards and GOS troops? What happened to all that deniability bullshit? Why are you even using me in this if you have a green light to—”
“Court, Carmichael has his back to the wall. He’s made some promises that he has to keep by any means necessary. He’s promised the White House that we can hand Oryx over to the Euros. That means, basically, that we have to hand Oryx over to the Euros. The future of the Special Operations Group rests on this op.”
“The future of my ass rests on this op. You promised this would come down to a few